“Yes, Bessick and Ogdenburg are put on in your places. The rest of us are trembling in our shoes, though I don’t know why we need to; you and Charley won’t give us away, and Van Loan can’t. Say, Fred! is there any doubt but what Van Loan broke his promise? Everybody thinks so.” “Oh, I don’t know, and I don’t care now,” replied Parmenter, impatiently. Robinson rattled on: “I hear he denies it; but there was no other way for it to get out, and he’s such an all-round liar you can’t believe him. Say, Fred, when you’re sure of it just let us know; and if that Freshman don’t suffer for his perfidy, then--Oh, excuse me! There’s the last bell.” Robinson, who was an expert runner, shot across the campus, and entered the chapel on the heels of the last group of attendants. Parmenter passed on wearily to his room. And so Charley had confessed--and had been cut! Parmenter wondered what motive had prompted the confession. Was it weakness or bravery? Well, there was some satisfaction in knowing that he himself was not the only one to suffer. He did not know that he had much sympathy to waste on Charley, after all. He was sure he had none for Charley’s father. He picked up a book and tried to study; but he read the pages over and over again without remembering a word that was printed on them. Deep in his breast a voice kept saying, “Poor Charley! poor Charley!” It aggravated him. He threw the book aside, put on his hat, and started for the city. At the college gate he came suddenly upon Lee, who was walking up alone. His hands were deep in his pockets, his gait was slow, his gaze was on the ground. When he looked up, Parmenter noticed that his face was pale and haggard, and his eyes were bloodshot. Charley’s appearance indicated that he had passed a sleepless night. He stopped, when he saw Parmenter, and seemed about to speak; but in a moment he changed his mind, for when Parmenter stopped in his turn, ready to reply to any friendly word, Lee passed on without a nod or smile, or any kindly look. After that, whenever the two young men met, in the class-room, on the campus, or the street, they had for each other nothing beyond the merest look of indifference, the merest nod of recognition. CHAPTER V. A COWARDLY REVENGE. It is hard to say whether Parmenter or Charley Lee suffered more from their estrangement, and impossible to declare which felt more keenly the disgrace of his punishment. Certainly Lee’s appearance indicated the greater grief, but people said that was because he was at home. There he had every day to meet the sympathetic kindness of his mother, which was worse than any reproach could be; and there he had every day to see in his father’s face the pained look which spoke more eloquently than words. Charley had not the firmness nor the mental and moral strength of Parmenter. He was kinder, more impulsive, more unselfish; but he depended more on circumstances to keep him at his best.