If the college officials detected his plagiarism, it would mean the end of all his hopes. Professor Mayne would no longer distinguish him by his commendation and friendly attentions; he would have no chance of becoming an interne at the Ophthalmic Hospital and thus of pursuing immediately his longed-for work; he would have to accept the position at Chestnut Ridge and bid good-bye to his proud hopes.
It might be that he would have to suffer actual punishment. The prize, which was to add a hundred dollars to his income, might be taken from him and public mention might be made of his disgrace. It would not be greatly to be wondered at if the Faculty chose to assume that all his carefully wrought papers, all his well-prepared examinations, were accompanied by a similar dishonesty.
In the midst of his distress, he realized that the superintendent had waited a long time for an answer.
"I'll have to think it over, Harry. It's time for me to start now."
Kinter rose lazily and lifted Stephen's satchel.
"You let me hear from you in the course of the next few weeks; and in the meantime we'll engage the old man for a year at least. You won't find it so dreadfully dull here, believe me. It's possible to get down to Wilkes-Barre on the evening train and back in the caboose of the freight; gives you a nice long evening. I know some girls and I'll introduce you to them. They have dances once in a while. You'll get accustomed to it. I have. I guess diseases are pretty much the same as mines, alike everywhere."
In the train Stephen sat close to the window, a forbidding shoulder turned toward a possibly loquacious seat-mate. His very heart was sick, but he fancied that it was his body, made so by the motion of the car. Usually he enjoyed the ride, first through the region of breakers and culm banks which took on a weird picturesqueness on a bright day, then along the upper reaches of the Susquehanna and the narrow defile through which the Lehigh passes at Mauch Chunk, and into the farm lands farther down. He liked also to note the changing speech, the foreign tongues in his own neighborhood, the broad Pennsylvania German at Allentown, the less accented speech near Philadelphia. But to-day nothing engaged his attention but his own misery.