“Very well, we will note your denial, Fairfield, but about this sweater.  It is rather damaging evidence, since you yourself admit that it is yours.”

“I do, but, as I said, I had disposed of it some time before.”

“And you do not care to state to whom?”

“No, sir, except to say that it was not to any one connected in the most remote way with Elmwood Hall.”

Again there came a murmur, quickly hushed.

“Is there anyone who can throw any light on this rather important subject?” asked the head master.  “I must not conceal from you that this is a serious matter.  Mr. Appleby threatens to go to the police with it, unless the guilty one confesses, and unless reparation is made.  Even then, it will be in the nature of compounding a felony unless certain legal action is taken.  Is there anyone who wishes to say something?”

For a moment there was silence, and then Sam Heller slowly arose again.

“Since this matter has assumed a certain phase,” he said, speaking calmly, “and since it is a question of the identification of a certain garment, of which I own one, I wish to state that I was not at the farm, nor have I ever been there as far as I can recollect.  At the same time, in justice to myself, I must state that I saw a certain student from this school on the lane leading to the farm, night before last.”

“I will not ask you to state now who that was,” said the head master, quickly, “as it would not be fair, and you may be called on, in a court of justice, to give evidence.”

“But I prefer to state now!” almost shouted Sam.  “I have a right to clear my own name.  I saw Tom Fairfield, wearing that sweater, leave his dormitory on the night the horses were poisoned, and, a little later, I saw him heading for the lane leading to the farm!”

“That’s not true!” cried Tom, leaping to his feet.

CHAPTER XV

TOM’S SILENCE

There were subdued murmurings from every student in the chapel.  Never, in the history of Elmwood Hall, had there been such an occurrence.  An implied charge against one of the school lads—­a serious charge; the denial on the part of one to whom suspicion might point, and the retort direct from another.  It was unheard of.

Silence followed Tom’s dramatic announcement.  He remained on his feet, looking at Sam Heller, who also stood, and then the gaze of our hero wandered to the troubled, but still serene, countenance of Doctor Meredith.

“Young gentlemen,” began the head of the School gently, “I must ask you to be calm.”

“But, Doctor,” said Tom respectfully, “I must deny the charge that has been brought against me.  I never had the most remote connection with setting the hay stacks afire, nor in poisoning the horses.  I cannot make my denial too strong.”

“No one has accused you of either crime, my dear boy,” said the doctor.  “You are a bit too hasty, I fear.”