Captain Vallery took up the football and examined it.
“The dog did not do this,” he said, pointing to the slit in the leather. “This was done by a sharp knife; we must not wrongfully accuse the dog, he must have found it in this condition; somebody else cut the hole.”
Norman grew very red; his papa looked at him.
“I suspect somebody wanted to see the wind which I told him was within it,” he observed.
Norman grew redder still.
“I thought so,” said Captain Vallery. “Did you cut the hole in your ball, Norman?” he asked sternly.
“I wanted to see the wind in it,” murmured Norman.
Now Captain Vallery, though he held some wrong ideas about education, was a highly honourable man, and as every honourable man must do, he hated a falsehood, or any approach to a falsehood. He considered that what some people call white lies are black notwithstanding, and he knew in his heart that God hates them.
“Why did you say, then, that the dog had torn your ball, when you knew that you yourself cut it?” he asked. “I have never before punished you, but I intend to do so. I will not have a son of mine become a liar.”
“My dear,” he said, turning to his wife, “take Norman in and put him to bed. I cannot look at him any more to-night.”