"The chief said I was to take your instructions, Dr. Thornton,"
hinted Hemingway.
"Yes; I heard the order given," nodded the now gloomy High
School principal.
"Shall I arrest young Prescott?"
At that paralyzing question Dick's mother did not cry out. She
kissed her son, then went just past the open doorway, where she
halted again.
"I hesitate about seeing any boy start from his first offense with
a criminal record," replied the principal, slowly. "If I were
convinced that this would be the last offense I certainly would
not favor any prosecution. Prescott, could you promise-----"
"Then you believe, sir, that I stole the things that you hold
in your hand?" demanded the young freshman, steadily.
"I don't want to believe it," protested Dr. Thornton. "It seems
wicked---monstrous---to believe that any fine, bright, capable
boy like you can be-----"
Dr. Thornton all but broke down. Then he added, in a hoarse whisper:
"---a thief."
"I'm not one," rejoined Dick. "And, not very far into the future
lies the day when I'm going to prove it to you."
"If you can," replied Dr. Thornton, "you'll make me as happy as
you do yourself and your parents."
"Let me have the watch and pin to turn over to the chief, doctor,"
requested Hemingway, and took the articles. "Now, for the boy-----?"
"I'm not going to have him arrested," replied the principal, "unless
the superintendent or the Board of Education so direct me."
From the other side of the doorway could be heard a stifled cry
of delight.
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