“And why do you tell me this, Holden?” asked the Doctor gently.
“It didn’t seem fair, sir, for Bryant to take the blame and the punishment. He said it was his for fear you wouldn’t let me play in to-morrow’s game. You see, there isn’t any one else to hold Waters—”
“To hold water?”
“No, sir, to hold Waters—George Waters; that is, to catch him?”
“Oh, I see. And Bryant was afraid you’d get beaten. Is that it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And so he told a lie.”
Ben was silent. The Doctor swung about and looked through the open window for a minute. At last, “Well, Holden, I’m sorry about this,” he said, facing the culprit again. “But what was mete for Bryant is none too severe for you. In fact, as you are an older boy, the punishment in your case ought of right to be more severe. But as you have done an honest, manly thing in coming and telling me, my boy, I’ll be as lenient as I may. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can let you take part to-morrow.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Ben mournfully. “And Bert, sir? You’ll let him off, won’t you? He’s just a kid yet, and——”
“I’m afraid that is not possible, Holden. His lie was, perhaps, told impulsively and with the desire to shield you, but a lie is a lie, Holden, and I cannot condone untruthfulness. Bryant’s sentence must stand. I’m sorry for you both. I realize that it will be a great disappointment to you not to be able to play to-morrow.”