He had just entered and was seated on the edge of the bed whereon Joel
lay propped up eating his Thanksgiving dinner from a tray. It was seven
o'clock in the evening, and Dickey Sproule was not yet back. The yard
was noisy with the shouts of lads returning from the dining hall, and an
occasional cheer floated up, an echo of the afternoon's event. Joel
moved a dish of pudding away from Outfield's elbow as he answered
between mouthfuls of turkey:
"I was up here studying at the table there when I heard some one coming
up stairs two steps at a time. It was Clausen. He threw open the door
and cried: 'They're winning, March, they're winning! Come quick! Remsen
says we can tie them if you play. It's all right, March. We'll go to the
office and I'll tell everything. Only come, hurry!' Well, of course I
thought first he was crazy. Then I guessed what was up, because I knew
that Eustace had scored--"
"You couldn't have known; you were studying."
"Well, I--I wasn't studying all the time, Out. So up I jumped, and we
raced over to the office and found Professor Wheeler there asleep on the
leather couch under the window. 'It was Cloud and I, sir, that cut the
rope!' said Clausen. 'I'm very sorry, sir, and I'll take the punishment
and glad to. But March hadn't anything to do with it, sir; he didn't
even know anything about it, sir!' Professor Wheeler was about half
awake, and he thought something terrible was the matter, and it took the
longest time to explain what Clausen was talking about.
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