“Oh!” Jack stared wonderingly at Tidball. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“’Tisn’t too late.”
“N—no,” answered Jack doubtfully. “You—think I ought to stay?”
“Yes, I honestly do, Weatherby. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of; ’twouldn’t have done any good if you’d gone into the river; guess you’d been drowned—’tother chap, too. White jumped at conclusions and landed wrong. Can’t much blame him, though. You see, the fellows here at Erskine come from the country, or the coast, or some small town, and swimming’s as natural as eating, and I guess it didn’t occur to them that maybe you couldn’t swim. But when they learn the truth of the matter——”
“But they won’t know,” said Jack.
“Bound to. I’ll see White myself, and I’ll tell all the chaps I know; ’twon’t take long for the facts to get around.”
“I’d rather you didn’t, if you don’t mind,” said Jack. “It’s awfully kind of you——”
“Didn’t what?”
“See Professor White.”
“Well—of course, I know you’re feeling kind of sore at him, Weatherby, and I don’t much blame you; still, there’s no use in allowing the misunderstanding to continue when a word or two will set things right.”