then, taking
Frank by the hand, he added, "Frank, I trust you absolutely."

"Then I am ready for anything, Father."

Gibney now came up rather sheepishly, saying "Mulvy, I hope you'll
pardon me."

"Nothing to pardon, old man, you did what any fellow would do," answered
Frank. Then he swung around to the crowd quickly. "Fellows, I feel I'm
'in bad.' Everything is against me as things go ordinarily. You have
nothing but my word for my defence. I hardly deserve such trust. But I
hope you won't regret it."

"Frank, take that notice off the bulletin board and put it on my desk
upstairs." As Frank left the room, Father Boone turned to the crowd.

"Boys, a good character is the best thing in life. Frank Mulvy's
character alone stands between him and your condemnation. If this
matter has no other issue than the present, it is worth while. I could
talk on uprightness a month, and it would not impress you as much as
what has happened before us."

At this point Frank returned and Tommy spoke up: "Will you tell us,
Father, what it is that you are so much worked up over? We don't know
what has happened, you know, about breakage and wanton destruction."

"I hope," said the priest, "that every boy here is as you are, Tommy,
wholly ignorant of the matter. That only adds to the mystery, for you
may as well expect a man to walk without legs as to have a lot of things
broken and smashed without arms. Whose were the arms, if not yours of
the Club, I'd like to know? I shall describe to you what occurred, and
leave the mystery to you."

Then in a few words he told them how he had come to the Club a few
mornings ago, and found it all upset, chairs broken, tables overturned,
pictures torn down, ink spilled on the floor, and the rest of it. As the
narration went on, the eyes of the boys got as big as saucers. If looks
and gestures were significant, they told of surprise, disgust,
condemnation. As he finished, Dick spoke:

"Father, that solves one mystery. We could not understand why you
withdrew the McCormack treat, and took on so dreadfully. We know, now,
and I for one want to beg your pardon for any feeling I had against
you."

"Me, too!", "Me, too!", came from different parts of the room.

"That is one cloud rolled away, boys," said the priest. "May it be an
augury that the others and bigger ones will vanish also. We are like
travelers in the desert who often see things where they do not exist.
Weary and exhausted caravans fre