Now Jerry hesitated: he could take the blame of his own going, but it would be mean in him to tell the names of his companions.
“Mr.—Uncle John (the principal smiled grimly as he heard this familiar name), I mean Dr. Arkwright,” said Jerry, the color browning, instead of reddening 124 his sea-tanned face, “I am very sorry, sir; I thought they had leave; I would not have gone.”
“Don’t think again; know, Jerry Downer: that is the only way for a boy that wants to do right. You will tell me, if you please, the names of your companions.”
“Would that be honorable in me, sir?” asked Jerry, now looking the doctor straight in the eye.
A look of doubt passed over the principal’s face before he answered, then he said with less austerity,—
“I must find out in some way who among my boys have broken my rules; you can help me more directly than any one else.”
“Would it be honorable in me?” repeated Jerry.
“You are not here to ask questions, but to answer them. Are you going to refuse to help me by giving me the names of the boys?”
“I cannot, indeed I cannot; it would be so mean in me. You must punish me any way I deserve, sir; I am willing to bear it; but I cannot tell on the boys.”
“Very well, Jerry Downer; you are dismissed,” and he waved Jerry out of the room.