hall met Praska and some of the football fellows on their way to the home room. In the office, what with some scholars presenting excuses for having been absent that morning and others handing in requests to be dismissed before their time that afternoon, there was some delay. The study period had started in Room 13 when Perry returned.
And then, all in an instant, the crowning disaster of the day happened. He was holding out the bottle to Mr. Banning, and the teacher's hand was outstretched to take it. He released the bottle, saw too late that Mr. Banning did not have it, grabbed frantically—and missed. The bottle crashed in pieces on the floor. A pool of red ink spread over the varnish. Some one out in the room among the desks gave an exclamation of despair.
The voice was Praska's.
All through the study period Perry's white face was before Mr. Banning's eyes. At the words of regret that had faltered from the boy's lips the teacher had merely nodded as a sign that he had heard and had sent him back to his seat. But the evidence of that white face could not be denied. Perry had not deliberately slipped the bottle from his grasp. And so, as the period
