Will you slip there softly, and listen,
too? I don't ask this as a matter of friendship, but of honor!
Will you go---and softly?"
Slowly Durville turned and looked into Prescott's eyes. Then he
did not speak, but he nodded.
"Thank you, Durville! Be quick---and stealthy! Let me guide you."
Class President Douglass stood in the shadow. He heard Jordan's
own tongue telling the stranger the familiar story of how he,
Jordan, had been reported for indolence in the bridge construction
work.
"I had to get square," Jordan was continuing, just as Dick piloted
Durville within hearing.
"And you think you did it slickly, I suppose?" jeered the stranger.
Though Jordan did not seem to suspect it, the stranger was seeking
this information as another blackmailing club to hold over Jordan's
head.
"Slick?" queried Jordan, with a sneer. "Well, it wasn't altogether
that. There was a good bit of luck in the whole job, too, but
Prescott is in Coventry, and there he'll stick, too. He'll be
away from here inside of two or three days more."
"How did you manage to do it?" asked the stranger, concealing
his anxiety to have Jordan tell the story.
CHAPTER XIV
THE STORY CARRIED ON THE WIND
"Oh, I fixed it all right," insisted Jordan confidently.
He was speaking in a rather low tone, but the breeze carried every
word to the ears of the listeners.
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