doing substantial good is in danger of being destroyed; under such
circumstances it is not only not dishonorable to speak out, but it is
highly honorable to do so. I know a boy's code of honor, and how he
regards a 'squealer.' But it is not squealing to denounce a criminal.
And in this case nothing short of a crime has been committed. Wilful
damage has been done to property, and consequent damage has been done to
reputation. If you saw a boy break into your home, and destroy valuable
things, you would not consider it squealing to denounce him to the
authorities. That very thing has occurred here. And you are in duty
bound to stop sin or crime if it is in your power to do so.

"If you know those who are guilty in this matter, it is your duty to see
to it that they declare themselves, in order that the good name of the
Club may not suffer further, and that the damage done to property may be
made good.

"With this explanation, I again ask those concerned to declare
themselves." Not a boy moved.

"Frank Mulvy, after what I have said, do you still find you are not
justified in speaking out?"

"I do, Father."

"I respect your conscience, Frank, but I am hard put to find a
justification for it. If you were a lawyer or a doctor or a priest, and
had got your information in your capacity of adviser, I could see your
point of view. But you are a boy of fourteen, and hardly of the age that
invites confidence. If I did not know you as well as I do, I should
consider you a party to the affair. As it is, you seem to be the only
boy who knows anything about the matter, or--the only one who has the
courage to say so."

Here Dick spoke up. "Father, the whole thing has us puzzled. We do not
know yet just what you refer to. You speak of damage and rowdyism. We
have not seen any. It was only by report that we heard about it and
we've got into lots of trouble denying and resenting it. Until your
notice was put up today, we treated the entire matter as a calumny. The
only row we know of was that scrap between Frank and Bill Daly. That was
nothing. Frank himself went up to tell you about that. We were all at
sea when we saw you so indignant. We formed a committee to wait on you.
As things are it looks bad for Frank. But we all know him and I--I--want
to go on record now as standing by him, if he says he can't tell, in
honor."

Frank seized his hand. "Dick, you're true blue."

"That's all right, Richard," said Father Boone slowly, and