[CHAPTER XXIV]
DAN WONDERS
By ten o’clock the news was all over school. Loring and Dyer were on probation!
Consternation reigned. Without Loring at quarter against Broadwood the game was already as good as lost! Dyer would be missed, too, for he was first substitute at right half, but his loss was nothing to that of Alf Loring. Consternation had given place to indignation by dinner time, and commons hummed and buzzed like a mammoth bee-hive.
“I don’t believe Loring ever did it!” That was the general sentiment. Loring himself had denied it up and down, and so had Dyer. Each declared to Mr. Collins that he had never set eyes on the paint can until he had seen it in Dr. Hewitt’s hand. Unfortunately, however, neither was able to prove his innocence. No one could say for certain that they had been in their room from ten o’clock until morning, and it would have been a simple matter for them to have walked boldly out of the front door, daubed on the letters and walked boldly in again. Mr. Austin, whose room on the first floor in the second well was near the entrance, was well known to be a heavy sleeper, and it is likely that a herd of elephants could have entered and departed without disturbing his slumbers. Neither Dyer nor Loring could prove an alibi even for the hours between daylight and ten o’clock, for, as it happened, they had visited various rooms in different dormitories during the evening and were very uncertain as to when they had left one fellow’s room or reached another’s. And so, much as Mr. Collins disliked doing it, the penalty of probation was inflicted. Probation at Yardley was no joke. It meant that a fellow must remain on school grounds, stay in his room from after supper until time for Chapel the next morning, must have all lessons perfect and, worse yet, must abstain from all sports.
“You declare that you know nothing about this affair,” said Mr. Collins, “and I am inclined to believe you. Your records are of the best, and the trick was such a silly, unnecessary thing that I can’t imagine you doing it. But the Doctor is very much put out and there is only one duty before me, and that is to put you both on probation. I am sorry, for in your case the punishment is a very heavy one, since it will disbar you from further football; unless—” Mr. Collins paused and looked intently at Loring—“unless you can prove your innocence by discovering the guilty ones. Somebody must have done it; you say you did not; therefore, it is possible that between you you may be able to discover the person or persons who are guilty. I will do all that I can to clear the matter up, fellows.”
“Thank you, sir,” muttered Loring.
“Now, tell me, can you think of anyone who could have done it?” Both shook their heads.
“You say you returned to your room shortly before ten. Therefore if someone else placed that can of paint under your bed, Loring, they must have done it before ten o’clock.”
“Yes, sir, unless they sneaked into the room after we were asleep.”
“Hm; not likely,” pondered Mr. Collins. “Still, possible, since your door was unlocked. Have either of you purchased any paint lately?”