“Of course not; you can’t do much of anything if you’re on probation—except study!”
“I don’t believe he ever did it!”
“But he’s acknowledged it. It—” Tubby looked at Gerald intently—“was Sunday night.”
“Why, he was with me Sunday night! He came over in the afternoon and stayed until almost ten o’clock! He couldn’t have done it, Jones!” Tubby shrugged his shoulders.
“Well, he says he did! I guess he knows.”
He looked at his watch again, arose and wandered somewhat restlessly about the room, glancing at Gerald now and then and pausing to listen to the sounds in the corridor. Finally,
“I guess he isn’t coming up here,” he said carelessly. “Maybe he’s gone over to the library or somewhere.”
“Can’t he see the game?” asked Gerald anxiously.
“Not he! He can’t go off the grounds. He might watch it from the hill, though. I guess he will do that.”
“I—I’ll wait a few minutes longer, I think, if you don’t mind,” said Gerald troubledly. Tubby shrugged his shoulders.