“And Groom was just ahead of us all the time, and he knows I didn’t cut and he won’t say so,” wailed Gerald.
“Groom never says anything if he can help it,” responded Alf. “Andy will fix it all right; he’s nobody’s fool. And he knows Jake, too. Has he got any—er—foundation for his malicious libel, Gerald? Did you wander away from the beaten path, my boy?”
“Not once,” replied Gerald indignantly.
“Well, I didn’t suppose you had, unless by accident,” said Alf soothingly. “I suppose Jake got mad because you beat him at the finish and made up the yarn out of whole cloth. I wouldn’t pay any attention to it, Gerald.”
“But it’s all over school!”
“Never mind. Your word is as good as Jake’s; better, for that matter; fellows will know what to believe. Did you—er—encounter the gentleman?”
“Yes, he was in the gym. I told him he was a liar.”
“The dickens you did! And what did he say?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He tried to hit me, but Arthur Thompson got in the way, and after that Durfee came along.”
“Durfee always was a kill-sport,” grieved Alf.