“And then let Trojan stand the blame?”
“I—I, somehow, couldn’t help letting him stand it.”
“But one word from you——”
“I know, I know! Only I—I couldn’t manage to say it, because—because——”
“Because I wouldn’t let him,” Zorn put in. “That’s my part of the business; I shoulder the responsibility.”
There was a stir among the club members. Tom Orkney edged nearer Zorn, but Sam spoke quickly:
“Let Jack tell the story—his end of it, anyway.”
Zorn shrugged his shoulders. “All right! Let him go ahead. I won’t try to stop him.”
“Here’s what happened,” Hagle went on. “Every fellow in the class knew the bully, good notes written in the Trojan’s Cicero. Out in the hall, before we went into the room, I saw Sam borrow the book, and give it back to Trojan. Then I saw him put it against the wall. Now, there was one special passage—I just had to have a look at it. So I slipped over and grabbed the book. But then the crowd started into the room, and I—well, before I knew it I was going in, too. And there was the book! I couldn’t let it be seen. So I slipped it under my coat. I’ll be honest—maybe I had a notion of getting a peek at it after we received the question paper. Anyway, I shifted it to the desk as soon as I could. And I left it there. I—I got frightened. The teacher seemed to be keeping a close watch, and when the hour was over and we were dismissed, I didn’t dare risk getting it out of the desk and back under my coat. And I didn’t think—didn’t dream—there’d be trouble for anybody. And I meant to go back for it after school, when nobody was around. I did go back, but the door of the room was locked. And then—then—well, then, I sort of let things slide. But I didn’t mean to bring harm to anybody.”
His voice rose shrilly as he repeated this claim of lack of malicious intention. He waited a moment, as if in hope that some of the club would express acceptance of this view, but none of them spoke. Then he went on, hurriedly and not too coherently: