He passed his hand with infinite tenderness over the tiny, still
form on the bed.
"Is he much hurt, sir?" questioned Van eagerly.
"I can't tell yet. He is hurt enough so that he doesn't come to his
senses, poor little chap! Here, Jackson, ring for a couple of
nurses. We'll get the child up-stairs."
Van tagged behind them more because he was anxious to hear of the
lad's condition than because he could be of any real use.
As the sad procession left the elevator, emerging into the corridor
on the second floor, a tall man who was coming down the stairway
confronted them.
It was Dr. Maitland, the principal of the school!
"What's this?" he asked, advancing with swift stride.
The doctor hurriedly explained the circumstances.
"A motor accident on the Claybrook Road, you say? Well, well! Poor
little chap! Who brought him in?"
"This lad--one of the schoolboys. You showed good judgment, Blake,
and it was a mighty fortunate thing that you were there," observed
the surgeon, passing on.
"The Claybrook Road?" repeated the puzzled principal. "You were on
the Claybrook Road, Blake? And what were you doing there at this
time of day?"
With throbbing heart Van suddenly came to himself.
Up to that instant no thought of his own peculiar plight had crossed
his mind. Now the reality of his dilemma rushed upon him with
pitiless force.
"May I ask," repeated the principal in measured tone, "what were you
doing on the Claybrook Road at this hour, Blake?"
CHAPTER IX
VAN'S GREAT DEED
Dr Maitland, who was a man of unswerving justice, was influenced in
his judgments neither by pity nor explanations, and thus it came
about that when Van had answered his questions, putting before him
the facts about his runaway, the principal sent the boy to his own
room to there await sentence Van was in the lowest of spirits.
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