There was a medley of exclamations and questions. The Trojan made answer in general:
“I don’t know just how it will work out. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“But you can’t drop out!” cried Step hotly.
The Trojan smiled, but the smile had no mirth in it.
“You can’t tell what you can do, Step, till you try,” he said.
“But it would break up the crowd—the club! We’ve been together, and we’ve stuck together since I don’t remember when. And we’ve been in the same class, and we’ve all kept traveling along together through school and——”
“I know all that,” the Trojan interrupted.
The Shark was moved to speech. “Look here, Trojan! Tell me something. They say they found your Cicero where it had no business to be—who found it?”
“One of the Freshmen, I think.”
“Which one?”