I had a lot of work to do in my study that morning before afternoon school, and so had very little time to think of Odger junior, or any one else. As it was, I was only just in time to take my usual place in the Greek class when Mr Draven sailed into the room and the lesson began.
I had been so flurried by my hasty arrival that I did not at first observe that the desk on my right, usually occupied by a boy called Potter, was vacant.
“Where’s Potter?” I asked of my neighbour on the left. “Is he—why, there he is at Browne’s old desk!” I added, catching sight of the deserter across the room.
Browne’s desk had always been left empty since its late owner went. None of us had cared to appropriate it, and the sight of it day after day had fed our sorrow over his loss. It seemed to me, therefore, an act almost of disloyalty on Potter’s part towards the memory of my old chum to install himself coolly at his desk without saying a word to anybody.
“What’s he gone there for?” I inquired of Sadgrove on my left. “He’s got no—”
“Don’t talk to me!” said Sadgrove.
Sadgrove was in a temper, and I wasn’t surprised. So was I, lazy as I was. We had all stuck to Browne through the term, and it was a little too much now to find a fellow like Potter, who professed to be Browne’s friend too, stepping in this cold-blooded way into his place. Sadgrove was put up to construe, so there was no opportunity for further conversation, had we desired it.
I wasn’t surprised that Potter avoided me in the playground after school. He guessed, I supposed, what I had to say to him, and had the decency to be ashamed of himself. However, I was determined to have it out, and that evening, after preparation, went up to his study. He was there, and looked guilty enough when he saw me.
“Look here, Potter,” I began, trying to be friendly in spite of all. I got no further, for Potter, without a word, walked out of the door, leaving me standing alone in the middle of his study.
I had seen the working of a guilty conscience once or twice before at Draven’s, but never knew it to work in quite so strange a manner as it did with Potter that evening.