For some moments the young man acted as though in danger of collapse.
Then he staggered over to the tap at his washbowl, and gulped
down a glass of water. He paced the room restlessly for a long
time, and finally went over and stood looking out of the window.

"Young man," he said to himself severely, "you've got to brace,
and brace hard. If you haven't any nerve, then getting square
is too strenuous a game for you? Now, what can that gang prove?
They can suspect, and they can charge, but my denial is fully
as good as any other man's affirmation. Go before the Board of
Education? Of course I will. And I'll make any accuser of mine
look mighty small before that august board of local duffers!"

Brave words! They cheered the young miscreant, anyway. Phin
ate his supper with something like relish. Afterwards he set
out for the High School building, in which the Board had its offices.
Nor did his courage fail him until he had turned in through the
gate.

A young man, whistling blithely, came in behind him. It was Dick
Prescott, erect of carriage, and brisk and strong of stride, as
becomes a young athlete whose conscience is clear and wholesome.

"Hullo, Prescott, what are you doing around here to-night?" hailed
Drayne.

But Dick seemed not to have heard. Not a note did he drop in
the tune that he was whistling. Springing up the steps ahead,
Dick vanished behind the big door.