"Dr. Armstrong sent me home--and told me to give you that," he said, in a low but clear voice. Something of a sneer lurked on his father's lips as he took it, then, as he read the contents, his brow contracted with a heavy frown. Fear, deadly fear, came to Margaret as she heard his voice, of, it seemed, concentrated wrath as, with a wave of his hand, he said: "Get out of the room--go upstairs! I'll come to you." The boy turned white and hopeless, but Margaret, with real terror in her heart, sprang forward: "Mr. Medhurst, please--_please_ excuse me speaking in Bob's behalf, but I am sure, if you knew all the circumstances in this trouble, you would find it in your heart to forgive him," she pleaded. Mr. Medhurst was too much of a gentleman not to be courteous to a woman, though he could scarcely brook interference. "You are the counsel for the defence, I perceive, Miss Woodford, but I'm afraid you have no case; perhaps you don't understand my son--_my_ son in blind passion has struck a schoolfellow with a cricket stump and injured him, apparently without provocation, as far as the Headmaster has been able to ascertain." "And do you believe that, Mr. Medhurst--believe it of _your_ son? You don't know Bob fully yet. Your son could never behave like that; to him, a schoolboy, it would not be cricket, would it?" "That's the gist of the matter, perhaps," he answered; "he is my son, and I expect a decent spirit from him." "Then let him explain the circumstances, Mr. Medhurst; don't punish him until you have heard _everything_--it is only justice." "Quite true. Can you deny these facts?" asked Mr. Medhurst, tapping the Headmaster's statement, and now addressing Bob, who, at Margaret's intervention, had paused near the door. "It's true--but--but I was provoked, sir." "So I suppose; but to what extent?" "I would rather not say," answered the boy. "There you are, Miss Woodford, I have followed your advice," said Mr. Medhurst, with a short sarcastic laugh. "You see, the boy has no excuse worthy of consideration; he's ashamed to bring it forward." "Yes--I am--that's true," broke in Bob. "Don't bother, Miss Woodford; I know I can't escape." "Bob, you can--you must," Margaret insisted. "Whatever it is, tell your father; trust him, trust him with the full story, and he will understand--I know he will," she said eagerly. Even Gordon Medhurst was moved by the girl's confidence. Was it possible she was right, and this son of his was not the wastrel he feared and believed? There was tense silence for a moment, then the boy spoke again: "I struck the boy Johnson in a passion because--because he said, I ought to be turned out of the eleven because--because---- "Yes--because?" encouraged Margaret. "Because my father was a--a _gaol bird_; then--I hit him--I hit him hard--and I didn't care how hard."