“Well, I think it was rotten of him to take away your letter, Gerald,” Alf said, indignantly. “I never heard of that being done before. And, by Jove, I don’t believe he has any right to do it!”
“I guess it’s a case of might makes right,” said Tom. “Well, we’re all agreed, then, are we, that we’re to keep mum? I don’t think I’ve heard your dulcet voice lately, Dan.”
“I don’t like it,” replied Dan, explosively. “I think it’s cowardly, Tom. We are all in it, and we all had more to do with it than Gerald. I’m going to own up and take my punishment.”
There was a silence. Then,
“That means we all will,” said Alf, quietly. “Only—what’s the use, Dan? What good’s it going to do?”
“It’s the—the manly thing to do,” declared Dan.
“Now, look here,” said little Durfee, earnestly. “Here’s the thing in a nutshell. We’ve gone and made a lot of fools of ourselves. We all ought to have known better. We hadn’t any right to risk the success of the school Track Team and Baseball Nine for the sake of a silly prank. And Dan and I are worse than the rest of you, for we are both captains, and our first duty is to the school. I fess up that I was wrong, mighty wrong, and you can just bet that I’m not going to do any such thing again while I owe my—my ability and efforts to my school or college. I’ve learned my lesson just as well as though Collins had sent me home. I guess we all have.”
He looked around and read affirmation in the faces of the others.
“Now, then, I say that if you’ve learned your lesson it isn’t going to do you any good to be punished. Maybe it would give faculty satisfaction to make an example of us, but I don’t propose to get punished just for that. I’m no blooming philanthropist. The thing’s over with, and our stunt now is to behave ourselves and work like the dickens to win from Broadwood on the track and diamond. Isn’t that about it?”
“Right-o,” agreed Alf.