Ray was perfectly calm.
“And may I ask, sir, on what ground that charge is brought against me?”
Dr. Drayton held up a small silver object which had been resting on his table, and which had escaped my notice.
“This is your match box, I believe,” said the president. “Your name is upon it.”
Ray started as he recognized the box, but recovered himself almost immediately.
“Yes, sir. It is my match box,” he answered quietly.
“It is, no doubt, from this box that the matches were taken to light the cannons last night,” continued Dr. Drayton, looking Ray steadily in the face.
Ray said nothing.
“Answer me, Mr. Wendell,” said Dr. Drayton after a pause. “Were you one of that party of students who created the disorder last night?”