"So I see," said the president of Brill, and if anything his face grew a trifle more stern. "Then you admit your guilt, Rover?" he questioned.
"What! That I defaced the photograph?"
"Yes."
"No, sir! Didn't I say I had never seen the picture before?"
"This photograph was in Professor Sharp's room, on the mantel. The room was locked up, and the professor carried the key. This box was found on the table, beside some books. You had some difficulty with the professor a day or two ago in the cla.s.sroom."
"I didn't touch the picture, and I haven't been near Professor Sharp's room," answered Tom stoutly. "If I was there, would I be fool enough to leave that box behind, with my name engraved on it? And if the door was locked how would I get in?"
"Did you lend the box to anybody?"
"No. The fact is, I--er--I thought I had left the box home. I--Oh!"
"Well?"
"I think maybe the box was in my dress-suit case, the case I lost. But it wasn't in the case when it was left at my door that morning."
"Oh, nonsense!" muttered Professor Sharp. "He is guilty, sir, and he might as well own up to it first as last."
"I have told the strict truth!" cried Tom hotly. "I am not in the habit of telling falsehoods."
"Have you any other proof against Rover, Professor Sharp?"
"Not now, but I may be able to pick up more later."
"Hum! This is certainly a serious matter. Rover, you will go to your room and remain there until I send for you again."
"Can't I go down to town?" asked Tom.
"Not for the present. I intend to get to the bottom of this affair, if I possibly can. If you are innocent you shall not suffer. But at present it looks to me as if you were guilty. You may go."
"But, sir--"
"Not another word at present. I have other matters to attend to. I shall call on you later. But remain in your room until I send somebody for you."
An angry answer arose to Tom's lips, but he checked it. In the college Doctor Wellington's word was law, and he knew he would only make matters worse by attempting to argue. With a heavy heart he turned, gazed coldly at Professor Sharp, and left the office.
CHAPTER X
SONGBIRD MAKES A DISCOVERY
"It's all up with me," said Tom to his brothers when he met them in the hall. "I can't go to town."
"Why not?" asked Sam.
"Got to remain in my room until Doctor Wallington sends for me."
"What have you been doing, Tom?" came from d.i.c.k.
"Nothing." And then Tom told of what had occurred in the office. His brothers listened with much interest.
"This is the work of some enemy," said Sam quickly.
"And the one who got hold of the dress-suit case," added d.i.c.k. "Tom, do you suspect any one?"
"Only in a general way--Koswell, Flockley, Larkspur, and that crowd."
"It's too bad."
"Say, but that picture was a sight!" cried the fun-loving Rover, and gunned broadly. "No wonder old Sharp was mad. I'd be mad myself, especially if it was a photo of my best girl."
"I hope the doctor doesn't keep you in the room all day," said Sam.
"You and d.i.c.k might as well go to town without me," returned Tom with a sigh that he endeavored to suppress. "Your staying here won't do me any good."
"What will you do?"
"Oh, read or study. It will give me a chance to catch up in my Latin.
I was a bit rocky in that yesterday. I can bone away until the president sends a special message for me."
"Want us to get anything for you?" questioned d.i.c.k.
"Yes, a good fat letter from--well, a fat letter, that's all."
"Postmarked Cedarville, and in Nellie Laning's handwriting," came from Sam slyly.
"I didn't know they postmarked letters in handwriting," answered Tom innocently.
"Oh, you know what I mean."
"Sure, Sam, for I know you're looking for a letter, too. Well, run along, children, and play," said Tom, and a minute later Sam and d.i.c.k set off for Ashton.
Tom did not feel as lighthearted as his words would seem to indicate.
He knew that the charge against him was a serious one, and he saw no way of clearing himself. The finding of the box with his name on it seemed to be proof positive against him.
"No use of talking, the minute I get to school I seem to get into trouble," he soliloquized. "Wonder if they'll put me in a cell, like old Crabtree did at Putnam Hall? If they do I'll raise a kick, sure as eggs are unhatched chickens!"
Tom sat down to study, but he could not fix his mind on his lessons.
Then he heard somebody come along the hallway and turn into the next room.
"Must be Songbird, or else one of the servants," he thought. "Guess I'll take a look." If it was Songbird, he could chat with his friend for a while.
He went to the next room. As he opened the door he saw Songbird, with his back toward him. The so-styled poet was waving his arms in the air and declaiming: