“Yes—on condition the other requirement is met.”
“That we prove he didn’t take the Cicero into the room, and supposed the book was with the rest of his lot?”
The principal smiled. “Proof of the second proposition, Parker, might be beyond even the efforts of the strongest friendship. I fear evidence of his mental processes cannot be secured. But if you can establish the fact that he did not have his text with him that day, while he was working on his paper, it will be quite enough. Convince me of so much, and you’ll have no cause to complain—nor will he.”
“Hurrah!” cried Sam, delightedly.
There might have been doubt in the principal’s expression, but there was surely a trace of sympathy.
“Parker, I wish you success in your efforts, though I am not oversanguine. But you can be assured of this: if we are in error in punishing Walker, we’ll make every effort to make amends.”
“I understand, sir. And all we want is a square deal.”
“Precisely,” said the principal, and there was the suspicion of a twinkle in his eye. “Precisely. The trouble, though, is that on the face of the returns, that is just what Walker is getting now.”
“Then we’ll change the returns!” Sam declared valiantly.
“’Pon my word, Parker, I shall be very glad to see you do it—if you can!” said the head of the school.