Kid groaned. Fortune had deserted him utterly. Mr. Folsom, sternest of disciplinarians, would find the story-paper, would ask who had left it there and Kid would have to confess. Of course, as long as the instructor merely asked who he could maintain a discreet silence; a fellow didn’t have to incriminate himself; but Mr. Folsom wouldn’t stop there. He would begin with Ben Holden and ask each boy in turn and when it came Kid’s time to answer he would have to own up. After that the deluge! Mr. Folsom was notoriously opposed to the sort of literature represented by “Hairbreadth Harry.”
Hoping against hope, Kid ran feverishly through the remaining volumes of the encyclopedia, but the paper was not there. He seated himself on the window-seat, burrowed in the cushions and tried to think calmly. Perhaps it was not yet too late. Perhaps “Hairbreadth Harry” was still reposing between the pages. If only he might get at the book before Mr. Folsom! He would try it! Fortune is said to favor the brave. Kid determined to make a bid for favor.
Mr. Folsom’s door was closed, but Kid’s knock elicited a genial “Come in!” and he entered to find Mr. Folsom, looking comfortable and informal in his shirt-sleeves, in the act of lighting his pipe.
“Hello, Fairchild,” he greeted. “Come in, my boy. What can I do for you?”
Mr. Folsom held the match to the bowl, emitted a huge cloud of smoke and sighed contentedly. Kid’s eyes surreptitiously searched the table. There lay the fifth volume unopened. Kid sighed, too, but with relief rather than contentment.
“I saw you had Volume V of the encyclopedia, sir,” he said. “I wanted to look up something and so I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it a minute if you’re not using it.”
“Certainly, certainly.” The instructor waved his pipe at the book. “Help yourself, Fairchild, help yourself. I’m glad to see this thirst for information.”
“Thank you, sir.” Kid gripped the book tightly under his arm. “I won’t keep it but a minute, sir.”
“Oh, don’t bother to lug it out. Sit right down there and use it. There’s paper beside you and pen and ink in front there. No use carrying a heavy book like that out just for a minute, you know.”
“No, sir; thank you, sir,” murmured Kid, depositing the volume in its place again and sinking into the swivel chair. “I just thought maybe you wouldn’t want me to bother you. It may take me a while to find what I want.”