“March, I have learned the truth of that affair.  Bartlett Cloud, it appears, cut the bell rope simply in order to throw suspicion on you.  He managed to secure a letter of yours through—­hem!—­through your roommate, who, it seems, also bears you a grudge for some real or fancied slight.  Clausen, while a party to the affair, appears to have taken no active part in it, and only remained silent because threatened with bodily punishment by Cloud.  These boys will be dealt with as they deserve.

“But I wish to say to you that all along it has been the belief of the faculty, the entire faculty, that you had no hand in the matter, and we are all glad to have our judgments vindicated.  An announcement will be made to-morrow which will set you right again before the school.  And now, in regard to Richard Sproule; do you know of any reason why he should wish you harm?” “No, sir.  We don’t get along very well, but—­”

“I see.  Now, it will be best for you to change either your room or your roommate.  Have you any preference which you do?”

“I should like to change my room, sir.  I should like to go in with West.  He has a room to himself in Hampton, and wants to have me join him.”

“But do you realize that the rent will be very much greater, March?”

“Yes, sir, but West wants me to pay only what I have paid for this room, sir.  He says he’d have to pay for the whole room if I didn’t go in with him, and so it’s fair that way.  Do you think it is, sir?”

“What would your father say, West?”

“I’ve asked him, sir.  He says to go ahead and do as I please.”  The principal smiled as he replied: 

“Well, March, then move over to West’s room to-morrow.  It will be all fair enough.  And I shall be rather glad to have you in Hampton House.  Digbee is an example of splendid isolation there; it will be well to have some one help him maintain the dignity of study amid such a number of—­er—­well, say lilies of the field, West; they toil not, if you remember, and neither do they spin.  Don’t get up in the morning if your head still hurts, March; we don’t want you to get sick.—­Keep a watch on him, West; and, by the way, if he wants more tea, run over to the dining hall and tell the steward I said he was to have it.  Good-night, boys.”

“Good-night, sir.”  Remsen shook hands with Joel.

“March, I hope I shall be able to repay you some day for what you did this afternoon.  It meant more to me, I believe, than it did to even you fellows.  I’m going Thursday next.  Come and see me before then if you can.  Good-night.”

When the door had closed Outfield shouted, “Hurrah!” in three different keys and pirouetted about the room.  “It’s all fixed, Joel.  Welcome to Hampton, my lad!  Welcome to the classic shades of Donothing Hall!  We will live on pickles and comb-honey, and feast like the Romans of old!  We—­” He paused.  “Say, Joel, I guess Cloud will be expelled, eh?” Joel considered thoughtfully with a spoonful of rice pudding midway between saucer and mouth.  Then he swallowed the delicacy.  “Yes,” he replied, “and I’m awful glad of it.”