“Now tell me what the trouble was on Monday. You missed chapel that morning, I believe?”
“Yes, sir,” Toby hesitated. “I didn’t know how late—” He paused again and then added desperately: “I forgot about it, sir.”
“That’s what this report says, Tucker, but I can’t quite understand how you could forget a thing that happens every morning, as regularly as breakfast. I see that you missed chapel only once before, early in October, on which occasion you were excused from attendance. That is right?”
“Yes, sir, the doctor excused me. I had a sore throat.”
“But nothing of the sort Monday last? It was just forgetfulness, Tucker?”
“Yes, sir,” muttered Toby.
“I wish you had a better excuse,” said the Doctor, after a moment, tapping the card against a thumb-nail and studying Toby frowningly. “Your record is so clean otherwise—” He broke off and tossed the card on the desk. “Are you forgetful by nature, my boy?”
“No, sir, I—I have a pretty good memory, I guess.”
“Then how do you account for your mental lapse in this case?”
Toby studied his hands for an instant in silence. Then he glanced up and saw something in the Principal’s face that prompted him to attempt an explanation. “I guess I’d better try to explain, sir,” he said, smiling appealingly. The Doctor nodded.