A murmur answered the teacher’s question, and he continued, “You all know that the rule was broken several times, and I told you the next offender would be publicly reprimanded, as private punishments had no effect. I am sorry to say that the time has come, and the offender is a boy whom I trusted entirely. It grieves me to do this, but I must keep my promise, and hope the example will have a good effect.”
Mr. Acton paused, as if he found it hard to go on, and the boys looked at one another with inquiring eyes, for their teacher seldom punished, and when he did, it was a very solemn thing. Several of these anxious glances fell upon Joe, who was very red and sat whittling a pencil as if he dared not lift his eyes.
“He’s the chap. Won’t he catch it?” whispered Gus to Frank, for both owed him a grudge.
“The boy who broke the rule last Friday, at afternoon recess, will come to the desk,” said Mr. Acton in his most impressive manner.
If a thunderbolt had fallen through the roof it would hardly have caused a greater surprise than the sight of Jack Minot walking slowly down the aisle, with a wrathful flash in the eyes he turned on Joe as he passed him.
“Now, Minot, let us have this over as soon as possible, for I do not like it any better than you do, and I am sure there is some mistake. I’m told you went to the shop on Friday. Is it true?” asked Mr. Acton very gently, for he liked Jack and seldom had to correct him in any way.
“Yes, sir;” and Jack looked up as if proud to show that he was not afraid to tell the truth as far as he could.
“To buy something?”
“No, sir.”
“To meet someone?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was it Jerry Shannon?”
No answer, but Jack’s fists doubled up of themselves as he shot another fiery glance at Joe, whose face burned as if it scorched him.
“I am told it was; also that you were seen to go into the saloon with him. Did you?” and Mr. Acton looked so sure that it was a mistake that it cost Jack a great effort to say, slowly,—
“Yes, sir.”
Quite a thrill pervaded the school at this confession, for Jerry was one of the wild fellows the boys all shunned, and to have any dealings with him was considered a very disgraceful thing.
“Did you play?”
“No, sir. I can’t.”
“Drink beer?”
“I belong to the Lodge;” and Jack stood as erect as any little soldier who ever marched under a temperance banner, and fought for the cause none are too young nor too old to help along.
“I was sure of that. Then what took you there, my boy?”
The question was so kindly put that Jack forgot himself an instant, and blurted out,—
“I only went to pay him some money, sir.”
“Ah, how much?”
“Two seventy-five,” muttered Jack, as red as a cherry at not being able to keep a secret better.