stopped the boy at the door and drew him to one side.
"What's the matter, Fry?" he asked.
Big Jim did not answer.
Mr. Banning made a shrewd guess. "That story in the Breeze get under your skin?"
The boy nodded. "I deserved it, I guess. I'm not kicking. Only . . . only . . ."
"Only it seems cruel to publish it where everybody can read it, and carry it around with them, and read it again. Jim, there was never a man with a bad record made public who didn't feel the same way. The Breeze couldn't harm you if you had not first harmed the school. What you're thinking now is that this thing may hang over you all through high school. It may—it may not. It all depends upon you. There's a way to live it down."
"How?" The boy was eager.
"By playing the game the Northfield way and with the Northfield spirit."
Big Jim squared his shoulders; then, with no further words, walked out of the civics classroom with his head up.
