"But won't you come back again?"

"I don't know. I am all in the dark. I think something must have
happened to my father."

Dr. Crabb was at his desk in his library--it was Saturday afternoon, and
school was not in session--when Andy knocked at the door.

"Come in!" said the doctor, in a deep voice.

Andy opened the door and entered. Dr. Crabb smiled, for Andy was his
favorite pupil.

"Come in, Grant!" he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Give me permission to go home. I have just had a telegram. I will show
it to you."

The doctor was a man of fifty-five, with a high forehead and an
intellectual face. He wore glasses, and had done so for ten years. They
gave him the appearance of a learned scholar, as he was.

"Dear me!" he said. "How unfortunate! Only two weeks to the end of the
term, and you are our _primus_!"

"I am very sorry, sir; but perhaps I may be able to come back."

"Do so, by all means, if you can. There is hardly a pupil I could not
better spare."