s
office after a few minutes stay with the boys, Frank was determined to
go to him and take the consequence.

Meanwhile, Father Boone had come to a decision. There had been some
rowdyism in the Club. Furniture was broken, serious damage was done. It
certainly was the work of more than one or two. By their very attitude,
the boys showed their guilt. Yet no one, not even the secretary, had
explained. Taking down a large sheet of paper, the director wrote on it
in big letters,

"The McCormack treat is off,
JEROME BOONE."

Pressing a button, he summoned Frank. As Frank heard the bell, a lump
formed in his throat. He felt sure that every fellow in the room could
see how his knees shook. But he was glad, in a way, that matters were
coming to a head. He expected that Father Boone would give him a good
scolding and that that would settle it. He was all prepared for the
interview, but was not admitting, even to himself, how near the tears
were to flowing.

As Frank approached the desk, Father Boone was writing. Frank hoped he
would not look up, and as he stood there for a second, it seemed an
hour. Then, without pausing or turning toward Frank, Father Boone said
in a low, measured voice: "Take that notice, Mulvy, and put it up on the
board below." That was all. Frank stood perfectly still for a moment,
clutching the jamb of the door while Father Boone went on writing. If
the director had turned but a little, he would have seen agony and
anguish in Frank's face, and he would have understood. But he kept on
writing and Frank remained standing, unable to move a step.

Then a hard feeling crept into the boy's heart. He felt that he was
being dealt with unjustly, that he was condemned unheard. Every bit of
his pride came to the top and the boy who, a few seconds before, was
ready to blame himself for Father Boone's disappointment, now would not
have yielded an inch. Father Boone was Frank's ideal. He thought more of
him than of anyone outside his own family. But suddenly he saw the
priest as a hard-hearted and unjust man. For the moment he was glad to
find that he was in an out-and-out struggle. "No explanations now," he
reflected, "time for all that is past." The director had not given him a
chance to do the right thing and now he, too, would show his mettle.

There was an air of defiance about Frank as he walked down the stairs
and posted the notice on the board.

The crowd gathered quic