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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17535-0.txt b/17535-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a48f445 --- /dev/null +++ b/17535-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5125 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Jester of St. Timothy's, by Arthur Stanwood Pier + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Jester of St. Timothy's + +Author: Arthur Stanwood Pier + +Release Date: January 16, 2006 [EBook #17535] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER OF ST. TIMOTHY'S *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Niehof, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +OFFICERS OF THE NATIONAL COUNCIL. + +Honorary President, THE HON. WOODROW WILSON +Honorary Vice-President, HON. WILLIAM H. TAFT +Honorary Vice-President, COLONEL THEODORE ROOSEVELT +President, COLIN H. LIVINGSTONE, Washington, D. C. +Vice-President, B. L. DULANEY, Bristol, Tenn. + +Vice-President, MILTON A. McRAE, Detroit, Mich. +Vice-President, DAVID STARK JORDAN, Stanford University, Cal. +Vice-President, F. L. SEELY, Asheville, N. C. +Vice-President, A. STAMFORD WHITE, Chicago, Ill. +Chief Scout, ERNEST THOMPSON SETON, Greenwich, Connecticut +National Scout Commissioner, DANIEL CARTER BEARD, Flushing, N. Y. + + +NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS +BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA + +THE FIFTH AVENUE BUILDING, 200 FIFTH AVENUE +TELEPHONE GRAMERCY 546 +NEW YORK CITY + + +FINANCE COMMITTEE +John Sherman Hoyt, + Chairman +August Belmont +George D. Pratt +Mortimer L. Schiff +H. Rogers Winthrop + + +GEORGE D. PRATT, + Treasurer +JAMES E. WEST, + Chief Scout Executive + + +ADDITIONAL MEMBERS OF THE EXECUTIVE BOARD + +Ernest P. Bidwell +Robert Garrett +Lee F. Hanmer +John Sherman Hoyt +Charles C. Jackson + +Prof. Jeremiah W. Jenks +William D. Murray +Dr. Charles P. Neill +George D. Porter +Frank Presbrey + +Edgar M. Robinson +Mortimer L. Schiff +Lorillard Spencer +Seth Sprague Terry + +July 31st, 1913. + +TO THE PUBLIC:— + +In the execution of its purpose to give educational value and moral +worth to the recreational activities of the boyhood of America, the +leaders of the Boy Scout Movement quickly learned that to effectively +carry out its program, the boy must be influenced not only in his +out-of-door life but also in the diversions of his other leisure +moments. It is at such times that the boy is captured by the tales of +daring enterprises and adventurous good times. What now is needful is +not that his taste should be thwarted but trained. There should +constantly be presented to him the books the boy likes best, yet always +the books that will be best for the boy. As a matter of fact, however, +the boy’s taste is being constantly vitiated and exploited by the great +mass of cheap juvenile literature. + +[Footer: “DO A GOOD TURN DAILY.” «over»] + +To help anxiously concerned parents and educators to meet this grave +peril, the Library Commission of the Boy Scouts of America has been +organised. EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY is the result of their labors. All the +books chosen have been approved by them. The Commission is composed of +the following members: George F. Bowerman, Librarian, Public Library of +the District of Columbia, Washington, D. C.; Harrison W. Graver, +Librarian, Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, Pa.; Claude G. Leland, +Superintendent, Bureau of Libraries, Board of Education, New York City; +Edward F. Stevens, Librarian, Pratt Institute Free Library, Brooklyn, +New York; together with the Editorial Board of our Movement, William D. +Murray, George D. Pratt and Frank Presbrey, with Franklin K. Mathiews, +Chief Scout Librarian, as Secretary. + +In selecting the books, the Commission has chosen only such as are of +interest to boys, the first twenty-five being either works of fiction or +stirring stories of adventurous experiences. In later lists, books of a +more serious sort will be included. It is hoped that as many as +twenty-five may be added to the Library each year. + +Thanks are due the several publishers who have helped to inaugurate this +new department of our work. Without their co-operation in making +available for popular priced editions some of the best books ever +published for boys, the promotion of EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY would have been +impossible. + +We wish, too, to express our heartiest gratitude to the Library +Commission, who, without compensation, have placed their vast experience +and immense resources at the service of our Movement. + +The Commission invites suggestions as to future books to be included in +the Library. Librarians, teachers, parents, and all others interested in +welfare work for boys, can render a unique service by forwarding to +National Headquarters lists of such books as in their judgment would be +suitable for EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY. + +Signed + +[Signature: James E. West] + +Chief Scout Executive. + +[Illustration: LAWRENCE LAUNCHED HIMSELF AND HURLED THE RUNNER BACKWARD +(p. 194)] + +EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY—BOY SCOUT EDITION + +THE JESTER OF +ST. TIMOTHY’S + +By +ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER + +AUTHOR OF +BOYS OF ST. TIMOTHY’S, +HARDING OF ST. TIMOTHY’S. ETC. + +ILLUSTRATED + +NEW YORK +GROSSET & DUNLAP +PUBLISHERS +COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +_Published September 1911_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. Irving sets forth on his Adventure 1 + + II. He achieves a Name for Himself 26 + + III. Westby’s Amusements 53 + + IV. The Baiting of a Master 75 + + V. Master turns Pupil 96 + + VI. The Penalty for a Foul 120 + + VII. The Worm begins to turn 142 + +VIII. The Harvard Freshman 166 + + IX. Westby in the Game 183 + + X. Master and Boy 205 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +Lawrence launched himself and hurled the +runner backward (p. 194) _Frontispiece_ + +The canoes swung about and made for Each Other 52 + +As to who had won, Irving had not the Slightest Idea 140 + +A Shadow crossed Westby’s Face 220 + +_From drawings by B. L. Bates_ + + + + +THE JESTER OF ST. TIMOTHY’S + + + + +CHAPTER I + +IRVING SETS FORTH ON HIS ADVENTURE + + +In the post-office of Beasley’s general store Irving Upton was eagerly +sorting the mail. His eagerness at that task had not been abated by the +repeated, the daily disappointments which it had caused him. During the +whole summer month for which he had now been in attendance as Mr. +Beasley’s clerk, the arrival of the mail had constituted his chief +interest. And because that for which he had been hoping had failed to +come, his thin face had grown more worried, and the brooding look was +more constantly in his eyes. + +This afternoon his hand paused; he looked at the superscription on an +envelope unbelievingly. The letter came from St. Timothy’s School and +was addressed to him. He finished distributing the other letters among +the boxes, for people were waiting outside the partition; then he opened +the envelope and read the type-written enclosure. A flush crept up over +his cheeks, over his forehead; when he raised his eyes, the brooding +look was no longer in them, but a quiet happiness instead, and his lips, +which had so long been troubled, were smoothed out in a faint, contented +smile. He read the letter a second time, then put it in his pocket, and +stepped round behind the counter to sell five cents’ worth of pink +gumdrops to little Abby Lawson. + +When she had gone and the callers after mail had been satisfied, Irving +sat down at the table in the back of the store. He read the letter again +and mused over it for a few moments contentedly; then, with it lying +open before him, he proceeded to write an answer. + +After finishing that, he drew from his pocket some papers—French +exercises, done in a scrawling, unformed hand. + +It was the noon hour, when the people of the village were all eating +their dinners; Mr. Beasley had gone home, and Irving was undisturbed. +He helped himself to the crackers and dried beef which were his luncheon +perquisites, and with these at his elbow and nibbling them from time to +time he set about correcting his brother’s French. + +He sighed in spite of the happiness which was pervading him; would +Lawrence always go on confusing some of the forms of _être_ and _avoir_? +Would he never learn to know the difference between _ils ont_ and _ils +sont_? + +Irving made his corrections in a neat, pretty little hand, which of +itself seemed to reprove the student’s awkward scrawl. He turned then to +his own studies, which he was pursuing in a tattered volume of +Blackstone’s Commentaries on the English Common Law. He did not get on +very fast with this book, and sometimes he wondered what bearing it +could have on the practice of the law in Ohio at the present time. But +he had been advised to familiarize himself with the work in the interval +before he should enter a law school—an interval of such doubtful +length! + +Mr. Beasley’s entrance caused him to look up. + +“I shall be leaving you in less than a month now, Mr. Beasley,” he said. + +“Got a job to teach, have you?” asked the storekeeper. + +“Yes—at St. Timothy’s School.” + +“Where may that be?” + +“Up in New Hampshire.” + +“Quite a ways off. But I suppose you don’t mind that much—having been +away to college.” + +“No, I think I’ll like it. Besides,—now Lawrence will be able to go to +college this fall, and he and I will be pretty near each other. We’ll be +able to spend our holidays together. I think it’s fine.” + +“It does sound so,” agreed Mr. Beasley. “Well, I’ll be sorry to lose +you, Irving. The folks all like to have you wait on ’em; you’re so +polite and tidy. But I know clerking in a country store ain’t much of a +job for a college graduate, and I’m glad you’ve found something better.” + +“I’m glad if I’ve been of any use to you,” replied Irving. “I know you +didn’t expect I would be when you took me in. And your giving me this +chance has meant that I could stay on here and tutor Lawrence this +summer and at the same time pay all my living expenses. It’s been more +of a help than you know—to Lawrence as well as to me.” + +“You’re both good boys,” said Mr. Beasley. “But it seems like you’re too +shy and quiet ever to make much of a lawyer, Irving—or a teacher,” he +added, in candid criticism. + +Irving blushed. “Maybe I’ll get over that in time, Mr. Beasley.” + +“You had better,” observed the storekeeper. “It’s of no manner of use to +anybody—not a particle. Lawrence, now, is different.” + +Yes, Lawrence was different; the fact impressed itself that evening on +Irving when his brother came home from the haying field with his uncle. +Lawrence was big and ruddy and laughing; Irving was slight and delicate +and grave. The two boys went together to their room to make themselves +ready for supper. + +“We finished the north meadow to-day,” said Lawrence,—“the whole of it. +So don’t blame me if I go to sleep over French verbs this evening.” + +“I’ll tell you something that will wake you up,” Irving replied. “I’m +going to teach at St. Timothy’s School—in New Hampshire. So your going +to college is sure, and we’ll be only a couple of hours apart.” + +“Oh, Irv!” In Lawrence’s exclamation there was more expressiveness, more +joy, than in all his brother’s carefully restrained statement. “Oh, Irv! +Isn’t it splendid! I think you’re the finest thing—!” Lawrence grasped +Irving’s hand and at the same time began thumping him on the back. Then +he opened the door and shouted down the stairs. + +“Uncle Bob! Aunt Ann! Irv has some great news to-night.” + +Mrs. Upton put her head out into the hall; she was setting the table and +held a plate of bread. + +“What is it, Irv? Have you—have you had a letter?” + +There was an anxious, almost a regretful note in her voice. + +“Yes,” said Irving. “I’ll tell you about it when I come down.” + +At the supper table he expounded all the details. Like Mr. Beasley, his +uncle and his aunt had never heard of St. Timothy’s School. Irving was +able to enlighten them. At college he had become familiar with its +reputation; it was one of the big preparatory schools in which the +position of teacher had seemed to him desirable almost beyond the hope +of attainment. + +He recited the terms which had been offered and which he had accepted: +nine hundred dollars salary the first year, with lodging, board, washing +all provided—so that really it was the equivalent of fourteen or fifteen +hundred dollars a year. And then there would be the three months’ +vacation, in which he could prosecute his law studies and earn +additional money. + +“Sounds good,” said Mr. Upton. + +“Of course I’m very glad,” said Mrs. Upton. “But how we shall miss you +boys! I’ve got used to having Irving away,—but to be without Lawrence, +too—” + +“Yes,” said her husband with a twinkle in his eyes, “we certainly shall +miss Lawrence—especially in haying time. I’m glad you didn’t get this +news till most of the hay crop was in. No more farming for you this +year, Lawrence.” + +“Why, but there’s all the south meadow uncut—” + +“I’ll handle that. As long as there was so much doubt as to whether +you’d be able to go to college or not, I felt that you might be making +yourself useful first of all and studying only in the odd moments. Now +it’s different; you’ve got to settle down to hard study and nothing +else. And Irving had better devote himself entirely to you, and leave +Mr. Beasley to struggle along without any college help.” + +“I don’t believe he’ll miss me very much,” Irving admitted. “And you’re +right, Uncle Bob; I can accomplish a great deal more working with +Lawrence this next month. I ought to be able to get him entered in +regular standing.” + +“If I can do that,” cried Lawrence, “perhaps I’ll be able to earn my way +as Irv did—tutoring and so on—and not have to call on you or him for any +help.” + +“What on earth should I do with nine hundred a year?” Irving exclaimed. + +“Save it for your law school fund,” said Lawrence. + +Irving shrugged his shoulders grandly. “Oh, I can earn money.” + +Lawrence gave him an affectionate push. “Tut!” he said. “Be good to +yourself once in a while.” + +It was a happy family that evening. The uncle and the aunt rejoiced in +the good news, even while regretting the separation. + +Mr. Upton, the younger brother of the boys’ father, who had been the +village clergyman, shared his brother’s tastes; he read good books, he +would travel to hear a celebrated man speak, he had ideas which were not +bounded by his farm. He had encouraged Irving as well as Lawrence to +seek a university education. The two boys were proud, eager to free +themselves from dependence on the uncle and aunt who, after their +father’s death, had given them a home. Irving had worked his way through +college, hardly ever asking for help; he had been a capable scholar and +the faculty had found for him backward students in need of tutoring. + +Meanwhile, Mr. Upton had been busily engaged in developing and +increasing his farm; that he was beginning to be prosperous Irving was +aware; that he did not more earnestly insist upon helping his nephews +stimulated their spirit of independence. They knew that they had been +left penniless; Irving sometimes suspected his uncle of parsimony, yet +this was a trait so incongruous with Mr. Upton’s genial nature that +Irving never communicated the suspicion to his brother. Irving felt, +too, that his uncle cared less for him than for Lawrence. Well, that +was natural; Irving was humble there. + +When the dean of the college had said that it would be inadvisable for +Lawrence to make a start unless he had at least three hundred dollars at +command, it had seemed to Irving a little narrow on his uncle’s part not +to have come forward at once with that sum. Instead he had merely given +Lawrence the opportunity to work harder in the hay-field and so increase +his small bank account. And it had soon become apparent to Irving that +unless he and Lawrence could between them raise the money, they need not +look to their uncle for help beyond that which he was already giving. +Therefore Irving went into Mr. Beasley’s store, and hoped daily for the +letter which at last had come. + +Day after day the two brothers worked together. Irving, quick, +impatient, sometimes losing his temper; Lawrence, slow, calm, turning +the edge of the teacher’s sarcasm sometimes with a laugh, sometimes with +a quiet appeal. Irving always felt ashamed after these outbreaks and +uneasily conscious that Lawrence conducted himself with greater +dignity. And Lawrence forgot Irving’s irritations in gratitude to him +for his help. “It must be a trial to teach such a numskull,” Lawrence +thought; and at the end of one particularly hard day he undertook to +console his brother by saying, “Never mind, Irv; it won’t be long now +before you have pupils who aren’t country bumpkins and don’t need to +have things pounded into their heads with an axe.” + +It had been a rather savage remark that had called this out; Irving +threw down his book and perching on the arm of his brother’s chair, put +his arm around his neck and begged his forgiveness. + +“As if I could ever like to teach anybody else as much as I like to +teach you!” he exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Lawrence; I’ll try to keep a +little better grip on myself.” + +Sometimes it seemed to Irving odd that Lawrence should be so slow at his +books; Irving did not fail to realize that with the neighbors or with +strangers, in any gathering whatsoever, Lawrence was always quick, +sympathetic, interested; he himself was the one who seemed dull and +immature. + +It had been so with him at college; he had been merely the student of +books. Social life he had had none, and only now, with the difference +between his brother and himself enforcing a clearer vision, had he +become aware of some deficiency in his education. In silence he envied +Lawrence and wished that he too possessed such winning and engaging +traits. + +He realized the contrast with especial keenness on the afternoon when he +and Lawrence began their eastward journey. There was a party assembled +at the station to see them off,—to see Lawrence off, as Irving +reflected, for never on his own previous departures had he occasioned +any such demonstration. + +Lawrence was presented on the platform with various farewell gifts—a +pair of knit slippers from Sally Buxton, who was the prettiest girl in +the valley and who tried to slip them into his hand when no one else was +looking, and blushed when Nora Carson unfeelingly called attention to +her shy attempt; a pair of mittens from old Mrs. Fitch; a pocket comb +and mirror from the Uptons’ hired man; a paper bag of doughnuts from +Mrs. Brumby. + +There were no gifts for Irving; indeed, he had never cared or thought +much, one way or the other, about any of these people clustered on the +platform. Only this summer, seeing them so frequently in Mr. Beasley’s +store, he had felt the first stirrings of interest in them; now for the +first time he was aware of a wistfulness because they did not care for +him as they did for Lawrence. + +Mr. Beasley came up to him. “So you’re off—both of you. Funny thing—I +guess from the looks of you two, if a stranger was to come along, he’d +pick Lawrence out for the teacher and you for the schoolboy. Lawrence +looks as old as you, and handles himself more grown up, somehow.” + +“He’s bigger,” Irving sighed. + +“Yes, ’t ain’t only that,” drawled Mr. Beasley. “Though ’t is a pity +you’re so spindling; good thing for a teacher to be able to lay on the +switch good and hard when needed.” + +“I don’t believe they punish with the switch at St. Timothy’s.” + +“Then I guess they don’t learn the boys much. How you going to keep +order among boys if you don’t use the switch?” + +At that moment the train came whistling round the bend. Irving caught up +his bag, turned and grasped Mr. Beasley’s hand, then plunged into the +crowd which had closed about his brother. His aunt turned and flung her +arms about him and kissed him; his uncle gave him a good-natured pat on +the back and then stooped and said in his ear, “Irv, if you ever get +into trouble,—go to Lawrence.” + +There was the merry, kindly twinkle in his eyes, the quizzical, humorous +smile on his lips that made Irving know his uncle meant always, deep in +his heart, to do the right thing. + +In the train he pondered for a few moments that last word of advice, +wondering if it had been sincere. It rather hurt his dignity, to be +referred to his younger brother in that way—and yet it pleased him too; +he was glad to have Lawrence appreciated. + +Irving spent a day in Cambridge, helping his brother to get settled in +the rooms which he himself had occupied for four years. Then he bade +Lawrence good-by and resumed his journey to New Hampshire. + +It was a pleasant September morning when he presented himself, a sallow, +thin-cheeked, narrow-shouldered, bespectacled youth, before Dr. +Davenport, the rector of St. Timothy’s School. The sunlight streamed in +through the southern windows of the spacious library, throwing mellow +tints on the bindings of the books which lined the opposite wall from +floor to ceiling. It was all so bright that Irving, who was troubled +with weak eyes, advanced into it blinking; and perhaps that was one +reason for the disappointment which flitted across the rector’s face—and +which Irving, who was acutely sensitive, perceived in his blinking +glance. He flushed, aware that somehow his appearance was too timorous. + +But Dr. Davenport chatted with him pleasantly, told him how highly the +college authorities had recommended him, and only laughingly intimated +a surprise at finding him so young-looking. + +“I hope that teaching won’t age you prematurely,” he added. “You will +probably have some trying times with the boys—we all do. But it oughtn’t +to be hard for you—especially as you will be thrown most of all with the +older boys. Mr. Williams, who has had charge of the Sixth Form dormitory +at the Upper School, is ill with typhoid fever and will probably not +come back this term. So I’m going to put you in charge there. You will +have under you twenty fellows, some of them the best in the school. But +just because they are in some ways pretty mature, don’t be—don’t be +self-effacing.” + +“I understand,” said Irving. He sat on the edge of his chair, and +crumpled his handkerchief nervously in his hands. And all the time—with +his singular clearness of intuition—he was aware of the doubt and +distrust passing through Dr. Davenport’s mind. + +“Don’t be afraid of the boys or show embarrassment or discomfort before +them,” continued Dr. Davenport, “and on the other hand don’t try to +cultivate dignity by being cold and austere. Be natural with them—but +always be the master.—There!” he broke off, smiling, for he saw that +Irving looked worried and seemed to be taking all this as personal +criticism—“that’s the talk that I always give to a new master; and now +I’m done. Here is a printed copy of the rules and regulations which I +advise you to study; you must try to familiarize yourself with our +customs before any of the boys arrive. To-morrow the new boys will come, +and you will report for duty at the Gymnasium, where the entrance +examinations will be held. You will find your room in the Sixth Form +dormitory, at the Upper School. I hope you will like the life here, Mr. +Upton—and I wish you every possible success in it.” + +The rector gave him an encouraging handshake and another friendly smile. +But Irving departed feeling depressed and afraid. He had seen that the +rector was disappointed in him—in his appearance, in his manner. And +the rector’s little speech had given him the clue. Until now, he had not +much considered how large a part of his work would be in the management +and the discipline of the boys; the mere teaching of them was what had +been in his mind, and for that he felt perfectly competent. In college, +that was all that the tutoring, in which he had been so successful, +meant. But, confronted by the necessity of establishing and maintaining +friendly human relations with a lot of strange boys, Irving for the +first time questioned his qualifications, realizing that the rector too +was questioning them. + +He became more cheerful the next day, when the new boys began to arrive +and he found himself at once with work to do. He had mastered pretty +thoroughly the names of the buildings and the geography of the place, +and it was rather pleasant to be able to give information and directions +to those younger and more ignorant than himself. + +It was pleasant, too, to have one mother who was wandering round vaguely +with her small son and to whom he shyly proffered assistance, show such +appreciation of his courtesy and end by appealing to him to keep always +a friendly eye on her little forlorn Walter. As it turned out, Irving +never afterwards came much into contact with the boy, who lived in a +different building and was not in any of his classes; he asked about him +from time to time, and discovered that Walter was a mischievous person, +not troubled by homesickness. + +But most agreeable and reassuring was it to take charge of the +examination-room, where the new boys were undergoing the tests of their +scholarship. Most of them were candidates for the Second, Third, and +Fourth Forms, and their ages ranged from twelve to fifteen; Irving sat +at a desk on the platform and surveyed them while they worked, or +tiptoed down the aisle in response to an appeal from some uplifted hand. + +He had come so recently from examination-rooms where he had been one of +the pupils that this experience exhilarated him; it conferred upon him +an authority that he enjoyed. He liked to be addressed by these +nice-mannered young boys as “sir,” and to be recognized by them so +unquestioningly as a person to whom deference must be shown. Altogether +this first day with the new boys inspired him with confidence, and at +the end of it he attacked the pile of examination books +enthusiastically. + +Mr. Barclay aided him in that task; Mr. Barclay was a young master also, +comparatively, though he had had several years’ experience. Irving was +attracted to him at once, and was grateful for the way in which he made +suggestions when there was some uncertainty as to how a boy should be +graded. + +Irving liked, too, the genial chuckle which preceded an invitation to +inspect some candidate’s egregious blunder; Irving would read and smile +quietly, unaware that Barclay was watching him and wondering how +appreciative he might be of the ludicrous. + +Two nights Irving spent all alone in the Sixth Form dormitory; it amused +him to walk up and down the corridors with the list of those to whom +rooms there had been assigned. “Collingwood, Westby, Scarborough, +Morrill, Anderson, Baldersnaith, Hill”—some of them had occupied these +rooms as Fifth Formers, and Irving had asked Mr. Barclay about them. + +Louis Collingwood was captain of the school football team; Scarborough +was captain of the school crew. + +“Neither of them will give you any trouble,” said Barclay. “Scarborough +used to be a cub, but he has developed very much in the last year or +two, and now he and Collingwood are the best-liked fellows in the +school. They have a proper sense of their responsibility as leaders of +the school, and are more likely to help you than to make trouble. +Morrill is their faithful follower, though a little harum-scarum at +times. Westby—” the master hesitated over that name and looked at Irving +with a measuring glance—“Westby is what you might call the school +jester. He’s very popular with the boys—not equally so with all the +masters. Personally I’m rather fond of him. He’s almost too quick-witted +sometimes.” + +That evening Barclay took the new master home to dine with him. Mrs. +Barclay was as cordial and as kind as her husband; Irving began to feel +more than satisfied with his surroundings. + +“Pity you’re not married, Upton,” Barclay said, half jokingly. “You’d +escape keeping dormitory if you were—which you’ll find the meanest of +all possible jobs. And then if your wife’s the right kind—the boys have +to be pretty decent to you in order to keep on her good side.” + +Mrs. Barclay laughed. “I suppose that’s the only reason they’re pretty +decent to you, William!—You’ll find it easy, Mr. Upton,—for the reason +that they’re a pretty decent lot of boys.” + +The next day at noon the old boys began to arrive. Irving was coming out +of the auditorium, where he had been correcting the last set of +examination papers, when a barge drew up before the study building and +boys clutching hand-bags tumbled out and hurried into the building to +greet the rector. + +Irving stood for a few moments looking on with interest: other barges +kept coming over the hill, interspersed with carriages, in which a few +arrived more magnificently. + +It occurred to Irving that perhaps he had better hasten to his dormitory +in order to be on hand when his charges should begin to appear; he was +just starting away when three boys arm in arm rushed out of the study +building. They came prancing up to him, all smiles and twinkles; they +were boys of seventeen or eighteen. They confronted him, blocking his +path; and the one in the middle, a slim, straight fellow in a blue suit, +said,— + +“Hello, new kid! What name?” + +A blush of embarrassment mounted in Irving’s cheeks; feeling it, he +conceived it all the more advisable to assert his dignity. So he said +without a smile, in a constrained voice,— + +“I am not a new kid. I am a master.” + +The three boys who had been beaming on him with good humor in their +eyes stared blankly. Then the one in the middle, with a sudden whoop of +laughter, swung the two others round and led them off at a run; and as +they went, their delighted laughter floated back to Irving’s ears. + +His cheeks were tingling, almost as if they had been slapped. He +followed the boys at a distance; they moved towards the Upper School. +His heart sank; what if they were in his dormitory? + +He entered the building just as the last of the three was going up the +Sixth Form dormitory stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +HE ACHIEVES A NAME FOR HIMSELF + + +At the foot of the staircase Irving hesitated until the sound of the +voices and footsteps had ceased. The three boys had not seen him when he +had entered; he was wondering whether he had better be courageous, go +right up after them, and introduce himself,—just as if they had not +caught him off his guard and put him into a ridiculous position,—or +delay a little while in the hope that their memory of it would be less +keen. + +He decided that he had better be courageous. When he reached the top +floor, he went into his room; he was feeling nervous over the prospect +of confronting his charges, and he wished to be sure that his hair and +his necktie looked right. While he was examining himself in the mirror, +he heard a door open on the corridor and a boy call, “Lou! Did you know +that Mr. Williams won’t be back this term?” + +Farther down the corridor a voice answered, “No! What’s the matter?” + +“Typhoid. Mr. Randolph told me.” + +“Who’s taken his place?” It was another voice that asked this question. + +“A new man—named Upton. I haven’t laid eyes on him yet.” + +“Wouldn’t it be a joke—!” The speaker paused to laugh. “Suppose it +should turn out to be the new kid!” + +“‘I am not a new kid; I am a master.’” + +The mimicry was so accurate that Irving winced and then flushed to the +temples. In the laughter that it produced he closed his door quietly and +sat down to think. He couldn’t be courageous now; he felt that he could +not step out and face those fellows who were laughing at him. Of course +they were the ones who ought to be embarrassed by his appearance, not +he; but Irving felt they would lend one another support and brazen it +through, and that he would be the one to exhibit weakness. He decided +that he must wait and try to make himself known to each one of them +separately—that only by such a beginning would he be likely to engage +their respect. + +It was the first time that he had been brought face to face with his +pitiable diffidence. He was ashamed; he thought of how differently +Lawrence would have met the situation—how much more directly he would +have dealt with it. Irving resolved that hereafter he would not be +afraid of any multitude of boys. But he refrained from making his +presence known in the dormitory that afternoon. + +At half past five o’clock he went downstairs to the rooms of Mr. +Randolph, who had charge of the Upper School. Mr. Marcy, the Fifth Form +dormitory master, and Mr. Wythe, the Fourth Form dormitory master, were +also there. They were veterans, comparatively, and it was to meet them +and benefit by what they could tell him that Irving had been invited. +All three congratulated him on his good fortune in obtaining the Sixth +Form dormitory. + +“The older they are, the less trouble they are,” said Wythe. “My first +year I was over at the Lower School, looking after the little kids. Half +the time they’re sick and whimpering and have to be coddled, and the +rest of the time they have to be spanked.” + +“It hardly matters what age they are,” lamented Marcy, pessimistically. +“There’s bound to be a dormitory disorder once in so often.” + +“What do you do in that case?” asked Irving. + +“Jump hard on some one,” answered Wythe. “Try to get the leader of it, +but if you can’t get him, get somebody. Report him,—give him three +sheets.” + +“That means writing Latin lines for three hours on half-holidays?” + +“Yes, and six marks off in Decorum for the week. Of course they’ll come +wheedling round you, wanting to be excused; you have to use your own +discretion about that.” + +“Do you have any Sixth Form classes?” asked Marcy. + +“Yes,” Irving answered. “In Geometry.” + +“That means you’ll have to take the upper hand and hold it, right from +the start. If you have one crowd in dormitory to look after and another +crowd in class, you can afford to relax a little now and then; but when +it’s the same boys in both—they watch for any sign of weakening.” + +“There will be only two of them at your table, any way, Mr. Upton,” said +Randolph. He passed over a list. “The others are all Fourth and Fifth +Formers—only Westby and Carroll from the Sixth!” + +“Westby!” Wythe sighed. “Maybe we were premature in congratulating you. +I’d forgotten about Westby.” + +“What is the matter with him?” asked Irving. + +“His cleverness, and his attractiveness. He smiles and smiles and is a +villain still. He was in my dormitory year before last and kept it in a +constant turmoil. And yet if you have any sense of humor at all you +can’t help being amused by him—even sympathizing with him—though it’s +apt to be at your own expense.” + +“He’s perfectly conscienceless,” declared Marcy. + +“And yet there’s no real harm in him,” said Randolph. + +“He seems to be something of a puzzle.” Irving spoke uneasily. “And he’s +to be at my table—I’m to have a table?” + +“Oh, yes. In fact, one or two of the Sixth Formers—Scarborough, for +instance—have tables. But we don’t let all the Sixth Formers eat +together; we try to scatter them. And Westby and Carroll have fallen to +your lot.” + +“If you happen to see either of them before supper, I should like to +meet them,” Irving said. + +He felt that if he could make their acquaintance separately and without +witnesses, he could produce a better impression than if he waited and +confronted them before a whole table of strange faces. + +But as it happened, that was just the way that he did meet Westby and +Carroll. When the supper bell sounded, the hallway of the Upper School +was crowded with boys, examining the schedule which had been posted and +which assigned them to their seats in the dining-room. Irving, after +waiting nervously until more than half the number had entered the +dining-room and deriving no help from any of the other masters, went in +and stood at the head of the third table, as he had been instructed to +do. Four or five boys were already standing there at their places; they +looked at him with curiosity and bowed to him politely. The crowd as it +entered thinned; Irving was beginning to hope that Westby and Carroll +had gone elsewhere,—and then, just as Mr. Randolph was mounting to the +head table on the dais, two boys slipped in and stood at the seats at +Irving’s right. He recognized them as having been two of the three who +had laughed when he had proclaimed himself a master. One was the slim, +tall fellow who had called him “new kid.” + +For a moment at Irving’s table, after the boys had rattled into their +seats, there was silence. In front of Irving were a platter of cold +tongue and a dish of beans, and he began to put portions of each on the +plates piled before him. Then as he passed the first plate along the +line he looked up and said, “I think we’d better find out who everybody +is. So each fellow, as he gets his plate, will please sing out his +name.” + +That was not such a bad beginning; there was a general grin which +broadened into a laugh when the first boy blushingly owned to the name +of Walnut. Then came Lacy and Norris, and then Westby. + +“Oh,” said Irving. “I think you’re to be in my dormitory, aren’t you?” + +“I believe so.” Westby looked at him quizzically, as if expecting him to +make some reference to their encounter; but Irving passed on to his next +neighbor, Carroll, and then began with the other side of the table. + +He liked the appearance of the boys; they were quiet-looking and +respectful, and they had been responsive enough to his suggestion about +announcing their names. A happy inspiration told him that so long as he +could keep on taking the initiative with boys, he would have no serious +trouble. But it was one thing to recognize an effective mode of conduct, +and another to have the resourcefulness for carrying it out. Irving was +just thinking what next he should say, when Westby fell upon him. + +“Mr. Upton,”—Westby’s voice was curiously distinct, in spite of its +quietness,—“wasn’t it funny, our taking you for a new kid this +afternoon?” + +Because the question was so obviously asked in a lull to embarrass him, +Irving was embarrassed. The interest of all the boys at the table had +been skillfully excited, and Westby leaned forward in front of Carroll, +with mischievous eyes and smile. Irving felt his color rising; he felt +both abashed and annoyed. + +“Why, yes,” he said hesitatingly. “I—I was a little startled.” + +“Did they take you for a new kid, Mr. Upton?” asked Blake, the Fifth +Former, who sat on Irving’s left. + +“For a moment, yes,” admitted Irving, anxious not to pursue the subject. + +But Westby proceeded to explain with gusto, while the whole table +listened. “Lou Collingwood and Carrie here and I were in front of the +Study, and out came Mr. Upton. And Lou wanted to nail him for the +Pythians, so we all pranced up to him, and I said, ‘Hello, new kid; what +name, please?’—just like that; didn’t I, Mr. Upton?” + +“Yes,” said Irving grudgingly. He had an uneasy feeling that he was +being made an object of general entertainment; certainly the eyes of all +the boys at the table were fixed upon him smilingly. + +“What happened then?” asked the blunt Blake. + +“Why, then,” continued Westby, “Mr. Upton told us that he wasn’t a new +kid at all, but a new master. You may imagine we were surprised—weren’t +we, Mr. Upton?” + +“Oh, I could hardly tell—” + +“The joke was certainly on us. As the French say, it was a +_contretemps_. To think that after all the years we’d been here, we +couldn’t tell a new kid from a new master!” + +Irving was mildly bewildered. He could not quite determine whether +Westby was telling the story more as a joke on himself or on him. +Anyway, in spite of the temporary embarrassment which they had caused +him, there seemed to be nothing offensive in the remarks. He liked +Westby’s face; it was alert and good-humored, and the cajoling quality +in the boy’s voice and the twinkle in his eyes were quite attractive. In +fact, his manner during supper was so agreeable that Irving quite forgot +it was this youth whom he had overheard mimicking him: “I am not a new +kid; I am a master.” + +After supper there were prayers in the Common Room; then all the boys +except the Sixth Formers went to the Study building to sit for an hour +under the eyes of a master, to read or write letters. On subsequent +evenings they would have to employ this period in studying, but as yet +no lessons had been assigned; the classroom work had not begun. The +Sixth Form were exempt from the necessity of attending Study, and had +the privilege of preparing their lessons in their own rooms. Irving +found, on going up to his dormitory, that the boys were visiting one +another, helping one another unpack, darting up and down the corridor +and carrying on loud conversations. He decided, as there were no lessons +for them to prepare, not to interfere; their sociability seemed harmless +enough. + +So, leaving the door of his room open that he might hear and suppress +any incipient disorder, he began a letter to Lawrence. He thought at +first that he would confide to his brother the little troubles which +were annoying him. But when he set about it, they seemed really too +petty to transcribe; surely he was man enough to bear such worries +without appealing to a younger brother for advice. + +There was a loud burst of laughter from a room in which several boys had +gathered. It was followed by the remark in Westby’s pleasant, +persuasive voice,— + +“Look out, fellows, or we’ll have Kiddy Upton down on us.” + +“Kiddy Upton!” another voice exclaimed in delight, and there was more +laughter. + +Kiddy Upton! So that was to be his name. Of course boys gave nicknames +to their teachers,—Irving remembered some appellations that had +prevailed even at college. But none of them seemed so slighting or so +jeering as this of Kiddy; and Irving flushed as he had done when he had +been taken for a “new kid.” But now his sensitiveness was even more +hurt; it wounded him that Westby, that pleasant, humorous person, should +have been the one to apply the epithet. + +Westby began singing “The Wearing of the Green,” to an accompaniment on +a banjo. Presently four or five voices, with extravagant brogues, were +uplifted in the chorus:— + + “’Tis the most disthressful counthry + That ever there was seen; + For they’re hanging men and women too + For wearin’ of the green.” + +There was much applause; boys from other rooms went hurrying down the +corridor. The banjo-player struck up “The Road to Mandalay;” again +Irving recognized Westby’s voice. + +Irving decided that he must not be thin-skinned; it was his part to step +up, be genial, make himself known to all these boys who were to be under +his care, and show them that he wished to be friendly. He did not wait +to debate with himself the wisdom of this resolve or to consider how he +should proceed; he acted on the impulse. He walked down the corridor to +the third room on the left—the door of Westby’s room, from which the +sounds of joviality proceeded. He knocked; some one called “Come in;” +and Irving opened the door. + +Three boys sat in chairs, three sat on the bed; Westby himself was +squatting cross-legged on the window seat, with the banjo across his +knees. They all rose politely when Irving entered. + +“I thought I would drop in and make your acquaintance,” said Irving. +“We’re bound to know one another some time.” + +“My name’s Collingwood,” said the boy nearest him, offering his hand. He +was a healthy, light-haired, solidly put together youth, with a genial +smile. “This is Scarborough, Mr. Upton.” + +The biggest of them all came forward at that and shook hands. Irving +thought that his deep-set dark eyes were disconcertingly direct in their +gaze; and a lock of black hair overhung his brow in a far from +propitiating manner. Yet his bearing was dignified and manly; Irving +felt that he might be trusted to show magnanimity. + +“Here’s Carroll,” continued Collingwood; and Irving said, “Oh, I know +Carroll; we sat together at supper.” Carroll said nothing, merely smiled +in an agreeable, non-committal manner; so far it was all that Irving had +discovered he could do. + +“That fellow with the angel face is Morrill,” Collingwood went on, “and +the one next to him, with the aristocratic features, is Baldersnaith, +and this red-head here is Dennison,—and that’s Westby.” + +Irving, shaking hands round the circle, said, “Oh, I know Westby.” + +“Sit down, won’t you, Mr. Upton?” Westby pushed his armchair forward. + +“Thank you; don’t let me interrupt the singing.” + +“Maybe you’ll join us?” + +Irving shook his head. “I wish I could. But please go on.” + +Westby squatted again on the window-seat and plucked undecidedly at the +banjo-strings. Then he cleared his throat and launched upon a negro +melody; he sang it with the unctuous abandon of the darkey, and Irving +listened and looked on enviously, admiring the display of talent. Westby +sang another song, and then turned and pushed up the window. + +“Awfully hot for this time of year, isn’t it?” he said. “Fine moonlight +night; wouldn’t it be great to go for a swim?” + +“Um!” said Morrill, appreciatively. + +“Will you let us go, Mr. Upton?” Westby asked the question pleadingly. +“Won’t you please let us go? It’s such a fine warm moonlight night—and +it isn’t as if school had really begun, you know.” + +“But I think the rules don’t permit your being out at this time of +night, do they?” said Irving. + +“Well, but as I say, school hasn’t really begun yet. And besides, Scabby +here is almost as good as a master—and so is Lou Collingwood; I’m the +only really irresponsible one in the bunch—” + +“Where do you go to swim?” + +“In the pond, just beyond the isthmus—only about a quarter of a mile +from here. Come on, fellows, Mr. Upton’s going to let us go.” + +Irving laughed uneasily. “Oh, I didn’t say that. If Mr. Randolph is +willing that you should go, I wouldn’t object.” + +“You’re in charge of this dormitory,” argued Westby. “And if you gave us +permission, Mr. Randolph wouldn’t say anything.” + +“I don’t feel that I can make an exception to the rules,” said Irving. + +“But school hasn’t really begun yet,” persisted Westby. + +“I think it really has, so far as observing the rules is concerned,” +replied Irving. + +“You might go with us, sir—and that would make it all right.” + +“But I don’t believe I want to go in swimming this evening.” + +“I’m awfully afraid you’re going to be just like granite, Mr. Upton,” +sighed Westby,—“the man with the iron jaw.” He turned on the others a +humorous look; they all were smiling. Irving felt uncomfortable again, +suspecting that Westby was making game of him, yet not knowing in what +way to meet it—except by silence. + +“I’ll tell you what I will do with you to-morrow, Wes,” said +Collingwood. “I’ll challenge you to that water duel that we were to have +pulled off last June.” + +“All right, Lou,” said Westby. “Carrie here will be my trusty squire and +will paddle my canoe.” + +Carroll grinned his assent. + +“I’ll pick Ned Morrill for my second,” said Collingwood. “And Scabby can +be referee.” + +“What’s a water duel?” asked Irving. + +“They go out in canoes, two in each canoe,” answered Scarborough. “One +fellow paddles, and the other stands up in the bow with a long pole and +a big fat sponge tied to the end of it. Then the two canoes manœuvre, +and try to get within striking distance, and the fellow or canoe that +gets upset first loses. We had a tournament last spring, and these two +pairs came through to the finals, but never fought it out—baseball or +tennis or something always interfered.” + +“It must be quite an amusing game,” said Irving. + +“Come up to the swimming hole to-morrow afternoon if you want to see +it,” said Collingwood, hospitably. “I’ll just about drown Westby. It +will be a good show.” + +“Thank you; I’d like to—” + +“But don’t you think, Mr. Upton,”—again it was Westby, with his cajoling +voice and his wheedling smile,—“that I might have just one evening’s +moonlight practice for it?” + +“Oh, I don’t believe you need any practice.” + +“But you said I might if Mr. Randolph would consent. I don’t see why you +shouldn’t be independent, as well as liberal.” + +There was a veiled insinuation in this, for all the good-natured, +teasing tone, and Irving did not like it. + +“No,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t let you go swimming +to-night.—I’m glad to have met you all.” And so he took his departure, +and presently the sound of banjo and singing rose again from Westby’s +room. + +Irving proceeded to visit the other rooms of the dormitory and to make +the acquaintance of the occupants—boys engaged mostly in arranging +bureau drawers or hanging pictures. They were all friendly enough; it +seemed to him that he could get on with boys individually; it was when +they faced him in numbers that they alarmed him and caused his manner +to be hesitating and embarrassed. One big fellow named Allison was +trying to hang a picture when Irving entered; it was a large and heavy +picture, and Irving held it straight while Allison stood on a chair and +set the hook on the moulding. Allison thanked Irving with the gratitude +of one unaccustomed to receiving such consideration; indeed, his +uncouthness and unkemptness made him one of those unfortunate boys who +suffered now and then from persecution. Irving learned afterwards that +the crowd he had met in Westby’s room hung together and were the leaders +not merely in the affairs of the dormitory, but of the school. + +At half past nine the big bell on the Study building rang twice—the +signal for the boys to go to their respective rooms. Irving had been +informed of the little ceremony which was the custom; he stepped out in +front of his door at the end of the corridor, and one after another the +boys came up, shook hands with him, and bade him good-night. Westby came +to him with the engaging and yet somewhat disquieting smile which +recalled to Irving Mr. Wythe’s words, “He smiles and smiles, but is a +villain still.” It was a smile which seemed to suggest the discernment +and enjoyment of all one’s weak spots. + +“_Good_-night, Mr. Upton,” said Westby, and his voice was excessively +urbane. It made Irving look forward to a better acquaintance with both +expectancy and apprehension. + +The first morning of actual school work went well enough; Irving met his +classes, which were altogether in mathematics, assigned them lessons, +and managed to keep them and himself busy. From one of them he brought +away some algebra exercises, which he spent part of the afternoon in +correcting. When he had finished this work, the invitation to witness +the water duel occurred to his mind. + +He found no other master to bear him company, so he set off by himself +through the woods which bordered the pond behind the Gymnasium. He came +at last to the “isthmus”—a narrow dyke of stones which cut off a long +inlet and bridged the way over to a wooded peninsula that jutted out +into the pond. On the farther side of this peninsula, secluded behind +trees and bushes, was the swimming hole. + +As Irving approached, he heard voices; he drew nearer and saw the bare +backs of boys undressing and heard then the defiances which they were +hurling at one another—phrased in the language of Ivanhoe. + +“Nay, by my halidome, but I shall this day do my devoir right worthily +upon the body of yon false knight,” quoth Westby, as he carefully turned +his shirt right side out. + +“A murrain on thee! Beshrew me if I do not spit thee upon my trusty +lance,” replied Collingwood, as he drew on his swimming tights. + +Then some one trotted out upon the spring-board, gave a bounce and a +leap, and went into the water with a splash. + +“How is it, Ned?” called Westby; and Irving came up as Morrill, reaching +out for a long side stroke, shouted, “Oh, fine—warm and fine.” + +“Hello, Mr. Upton.” It was Baldersnaith who first saw him; Baldersnaith, +Dennison, and Smythe were fully dressed and were sitting under a tree +looking on. + +“You’re just in time,” said Collingwood. + +Scarborough, stripped like Westby and Carroll and Morrill and +Collingwood, was out on the pond, paddling round in a canoe. He was +crouched on one knee in the middle, and the canoe careened over with his +weight, so that the gunwale was only an inch or two above the surface. +He was evidently an expert paddler, swinging the craft round, this way +and that, without ever taking the paddle out of the water. + +Two other canoes were hauled up near the spring-board; Carroll was +bending over one of them. + +“Bring me my lethal weapon, Carrie,” Westby commanded. “I want to show +Mr. Upton.—Is the button on tight?” + +Carroll produced from the canoe a long pole with an enormous sponge +fastened to one end; he pulled at the sponge and announced, “Yes, the +button’s on tight,” and passed the pole over to Westby. + +Westby made one or two experimental lunges with it and remarked +musingly, “When I catch him square above the bread line with this—!” + +“Come on, then!” said Collingwood. “Come here, Ned!” + +Morrill swam ashore and pushed off in one of the canoes with +Collingwood—taking the stern seat and the paddle. Collingwood knelt in +the bow, with his spear laid across the gun-wales in front of him. In +like manner Westby and Carroll took to the water. + +“This is the best two bouts out of three,” called Scarborough, as he +circled round. “Don’t you want to come aboard, Mr. Upton, and help +judge?” + +“Why, yes, thank you,” said Irving. + +So Scarborough called, “Wait a moment, fellows,” and paddling ashore, +took on his passenger. Then he sped out to the middle of the bay; the +two other canoes were separated by about fifty feet. + +“Charge!” cried Scarborough, and Morrill and Carroll began paddling +towards each other, while in the bows Collingwood and Westby rose to +their feet and held their spears in front of them. They advanced +cautiously and then swung apart, evading the collision—each trying to +tempt the other to stab and overreach. + +“Oh, you’re both scared!” jeered Baldersnaith from the shore. + +The canoes swung about and made for each other again; and this time +passed within striking distance. Westby’s aim missed, his sponge-tipped +lance slid past Collingwood’s shoulder, and the next instant +Collingwood’s sponge—well weighted with water—smote Westby full in the +chest and hove him overboard. For one moment Carroll struggled to keep +the canoe right side up, but in vain; it tipped and filled, and with a +shout he plunged in head foremost after his comrade. + +They came up and began to push their canoe ashore; the two other canoes +drew alongside and assisted, Scarborough and Morrill paddling, while +Irving and Collingwood laid hold of the thwarts. + +“That’s all right; I’ll get you this time,” spluttered Westby. “We’re +going to use strategy now.” + +They emptied the water out of the canoe and proceeded again to the +battleground. Then, when Scarborough gave the word, Carroll began +paddling madly; he and Westby bore down upon their antagonists at a most +threatening speed. Morrill swung to the right to get out of their path; +and then suddenly Carroll swung in the opposite direction—with what +strategic purpose neither Irving nor Scarborough had time to conjecture. +For they were loitering close on that side, not expecting any such +manœuvre; the sharp turn drove the bow of Carroll’s canoe straight for +the waist of Scarborough’s, and Westby with an excited laugh undertook +to fend off with his pole, lost his balance, and trying to recover it, +upset both canoes together. + +Irving felt himself going, heard Westby’s laughing shout, “Look out, Mr. +Upton!” and then went under. + +[Illustration: THE CANOES SWUNG ABOUT AND MADE FOR EACH OTHER] + + + + +CHAPTER III + +WESTBY’S AMUSEMENTS + + +The water was warm, but Irving swallowed a good deal of it and also was +conscious of the fact that he had on a perfectly good suit of clothes. +So he came to the surface, choking and annoyed; and when he recovered +his faculties, he observed first of all Westby’s grinning face. + +“You can swim all right, can’t you, Mr. Upton?” said Westby. “I thought +for a moment we might have to dive for you.” + +Irving clutched at the stern of the capsized canoe and said, rather +curtly, “I’m not dressed to enjoy swimming.” + +“I’m awfully sorry,” said Scarborough. “But I never thought they were +going to turn that way; I don’t know what Carrie thought he was doing—” + +“I’d have shown you some strategy if you hadn’t blundered into us,” +declared Carroll. + +“Blundered into you! There was no need for Wes to give us such a poke, +anyhow.” + +Westby replied merely with an irritating chuckle—irritating at least to +Irving, who felt that he should be showing more contrition. + +Collingwood and Morrill came alongside, both laughing, jeering at Westby +and offering polite expressions of solicitude to the master. They told +him to lay hold of the tail of their canoe, and then they towed him +ashore as rapidly as possible. When he drew himself up, dripping, on the +bank, Baldersnaith, Dennison, and Smythe were all on the broad grin, and +from the water floated the sound of Westby’s merriment. + +Irving stood for a moment, letting himself drip, quite undecided as to +what he should do. He had never been ducked before, with all his clothes +on; the clammy, weighted sensation was most unpleasant, the thought of +his damaged and perhaps ruined suit was galling, the indignity of his +appearance was particularly hard to bear. He felt that Baldersnaith and +the others were trying to be as polite and considerate as possible, and +yet they could not refrain from exhibiting their amusement, their +delight. + +Scarborough, who had swum ahead of the others, waded ashore and looked +him over. “I tell you what you’d better do, Mr. Upton,” he said. “You’d +better take your clothes off, wring them out, and spread them out to +dry. They’ll dry in this sun and wind. And while they’re doing that, you +can come in swimming with us.” + +Irving hesitated a moment; instinct told him that the advice was +sensible, yet he shrank from accepting it; he felt that for a master to +do what Scarborough suggested would be undignified, and might somehow +compromise his position. “I think I’d better run home and rub myself +down and put on some dry things,” he replied. + +“Well,” said Scarborough, “just as you say. Sorry I got you into this +mess.” + +“Oh, it’s all right,” said Irving. + +He walked away, with the water trickling uncomfortably down him inside +his clothes and swashing juicily in his shoes. He liked Scarborough for +the way he had acted, but he felt less kindly towards Westby. He was by +no means sure that Westby had not deliberately soused him and then +pretended it was an accident. He remembered Westby’s mirthful laugh just +when the thing was happening; and certainly if it had really been an +accident Westby had shown very little concern. He had been indecently +amused; he was so still; his clear joyous laugh was ringing after Irving +even now, and Irving felt angrily that he was at this moment a +ridiculous figure. To be running home drenched!—probably it would have +been better if he had done what Scarborough had suggested, less +undignified, more manly really. But he couldn’t turn back now. + +He was cold and his teeth had begun to chatter, so he started to run. He +hoped that when he came out of the woods he might be fortunate enough to +elude observation on the way to the Upper School, but in this he was +disappointed. As he jogged by the Study building, with his clothes +jouncing and slapping heavily upon his shoulders, out came the rector +and met him face to face. + +“Upset canoeing?” asked the rector with a smile. + +“Yes,” Irving answered; he stood for a moment awkwardly. + +“Well, it will happen sometimes,” said the rector. “Don’t catch cold.” +And he passed on. + +There was some consolation for Irving in this matter-of-fact view. In +the rector’s eyes apparently his dignity had not suffered by the +incident. But when a moment later he passed a group of Fourth Formers +and they turned and stared at him, grinning, he felt that his dignity +had suffered very much. He felt that within a short time his misfortune +would be the talk of the school. + +At supper it was as he expected it would be. Westby set about airing the +story for the benefit of the table, appealing now and then to Irving +himself for confirmation of the passages which were least gratifying to +Irving’s vanity. “You _did_ look so woe-begone when you stood up on +shore, Mr. Upton,” was the genial statement which Irving especially +resented. To have Westby tell the boys the first day how he had called +the new master a new kid and the second day how he had ducked him was a +little too much; it seemed to Irving that Westby was slyly amusing +himself by undermining his authority. But the boy’s manner was +pleasantly ingratiating always; Irving felt baffled. Carroll did not +help him much towards an interpretation; Carroll sat by self-contained, +quietly intelligent, amused. Irving liked both the boys, and yet as the +days passed, he seemed to grow more and more uneasy and anxious in their +society. + +In the classroom he was holding his own; he was a good mathematical +scholar, he prepared the lessons thoroughly, and he found it generally +easy to keep order by assigning problems to be worked out in class. The +weather continued good, so that during play time the fellows were out +of doors instead of loafing round in dormitory. They all had their own +little affairs to organize; athletic clubs and literary societies held +their first meetings; there was a process of general shaking down; and +in the interest and industry occasioned by all this, there was not much +opportunity or disposition to make trouble. + +But the first Sunday was a bad day. In a boys’ school bad weather is apt +to be accompanied by bad behavior; on this Sunday it poured. The boys, +having put on their best clothes, were obliged, when they went out to +chapel, to wear rubbers and to carry umbrellas—an imposition against +which they rebelled. After chapel, there was an hour before dinner, and +in that hour most of the Sixth Formers sought their rooms—or sought one +another’s rooms; it seemed to Irving, who was trying to read and who had +a headache, that there was a needless amount of rushing up and down the +corridors and of slamming of doors. By and by the tumult became +uproarious, shouts of laughter and the sound of heavy bodies being +flung against walls reached his ears; he emerged then and saw the +confusion at the end of the corridor. Allison was suspended two or three +feet above the floor, by a rope knotted under his arms; it was the rope +that was used for raising trunks up to the loft above. In lowering it +from the loft some one had trespassed on forbidden ground. Westby, +Collingwood, Dennison, Scarborough, and half a dozen others were +gathered, enjoying Allison’s ludicrous struggles. His plight was not +painful, only absurd; and Irving himself could not at first keep back a +smile. But he came forward and said,— + +“Oh, look here, fellows, whoever is responsible for this will have to +climb up and release Allison.” + +Westby turned with his engaging smile. + +“Yes, but, Mr. Upton, who do you suppose is responsible? I don’t see how +we can fix the responsibility, do you?” + +“I will undertake to fix it,” said Irving. “Westby, suppose you climb +that ladder and let Allison down.” + +“I don’t think you’re approaching this matter in quite a judicial +spirit, Mr. Upton,” said Westby. “Of course no man wants to be +arbitrary; he wants to be just. It really seems to me, Mr. Upton, that +no action should be taken until the matter has been more thoroughly +sifted.” + +The other boys, with the exception of Allison, were chuckling at this +glib persuasiveness. Westby stood there, in a calmly respectful, even +deferential attitude, as if animated only by a desire to serve the +truth. + +“We will have no argument about it, Westby,” said Irving. “Please climb +the ladder at once and release Allison.” + +“I beg of you, Mr. Upton,” said Westby in a tone of distress, “don’t, +please don’t, confuse argument with impartial inquiry; nothing is more +distasteful to me than argument. I merely ask for investigation; I court +it in your own interest as well as mine.” + +Irving grew rigid. His head was throbbing painfully; the continued +snickering all round him and Westby’s increasing confidence and fluency +grated on his nerves. He drew out his watch. + +“I will give you one minute in which to climb that ladder,” he said. + +“Mr. Upton, you wish to be a just man,” pleaded Westby. “Even though you +have the great weight of authority—and years”—Westby choked a +laugh—“behind you, don’t do an unjust and arbitrary thing. Allison +himself wouldn’t have you—would you, Allison?” + +The victim grinned uncomfortably. + +“Mr. Upton,” urged Westby, “you wouldn’t have me soil these hands?” He +displayed his laudably clean, pink fingers. “Of course, if I go up there +I shall get my hands all dirty—and equally of course if I had been up +there, they would be all dirty now. Surely you believe in the value of +circumstantial evidence; therefore, before we fix the responsibility, +let us search for the dirty pair of hands.” + +“Time is up,” said Irving, closing his watch. + +“But what is time when justice trembles in the balance?” argued Westby. +“When the innocent is in danger of being punished for the guilty, when—” + +“Westby, please climb that ladder at once.” + +“So young and so inexorable!” murmured Westby, setting his foot upon the +ladder. + +Irving’s face was red; the tittering of the audience was making him +angry. He held his eyes on Westby, who made a slow, grunting progress up +three rungs and then stopped. + +“Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, sir!” Westby’s voice was ingratiating. “Mayn’t +Allison sing for us, sir?” + +Allison grinned again foolishly and sent a sprawling foot out towards +his persecutor; the others laughed. + +“Keep on climbing,” said Irving. + +Westby resumed his toilsome way, and as he moved he kept murmuring +remarks to Allison, to the others, to Irving himself, half audible, +rapid, in an aggrieved tone. + +“Don’t see why you want to be conspicuous this way, Allison.—Won’t +sing—amuse anybody—ornamental, I suppose—good timekeeper though—almost +hear you tick. Mr. Upton—setting watch by you now—awfully severe kind of +man—” + +So mumbling, with the responsive titter still continuing below and +Irving standing there stern and red, Westby disappeared into the loft. +There was a moment’s silence, then a sudden clicking of a ratchet wheel, +and Allison began to rise rapidly towards the ceiling. + +“A-ay!” cried Allison in amazement. + +The boys burst out in delighted laughter. + +“Westby! Westby! Stop that!” Irving’s voice was shrill with anger. + +Allison became stationary once more, and Westby displayed an innocent, +surprised face at the loft opening. + +“If there is any more nonsense in letting Allison down, I shall really +have to report you.” Irving’s voice rose tremulously to a high key; he +was trying hard to control it. + +Westby gazed down with surprise. “Why, I guess I must have turned the +crank the wrong way, don’t you suppose I did, Mr. Upton?—Don’t worry, +Allison, old man; I’ll rescue you, never fear. I’ll try to lower you +gently, so that you won’t get hurt; you’ll call out if you find you’re +coming down too fast, won’t you?” + +He withdrew his head, and presently the ratchet wheel clicked and +slowly, very slowly, Allison began to descend. When his feet were a +couple of inches from the floor, the descent stopped. + +“All right now?” called Westby from above. + +“No!” bawled Allison. + +“Ve-ry gently then, ve-ry gently,” replied Westby; and Allison, reaching +for the floor with his toes, had at last the satisfaction of feeling it. +He wriggled out of the noose and smoothed out his rumpled coat. + +“Saved!” exclaimed Westby, peering down from the opening, and then he +added sorrowfully, “Saved, and no word of gratitude to his rescuer!” + +“Now, boys, don’t stand round here any longer; we’ve had enough +nonsense; go to your rooms,” said Irving. + +“Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, sir!” clamored Westby, and the boys +lingered. + +Irving looked up in exasperation. “What is it now?” + +“May I come down, please, sir?” + +“Yes.” + +“Thank you, sir.” + +Carefully Westby descended the ladder, mumbling all the time sentences +of which the lingerers caught fragmentary scraps: “Horrible experience +that of Allison’s—dreadful situation to have been in—so fortunate that I +was at hand—the man who dares—reckless courage, ready resource—home +again!” He dropped to the floor, and raising his hand to his forehead, +saluted Irving. + +“Come, move on, all you fellows,” said Irving; the others were still +hanging about and laughing; “move on, move on! Carroll, you and Westby +take that ladder down and put it back where you got it.” + +He stayed to see that the order was carried out; then he returned to his +room. He felt that though he had conquered in this instance, he had +adopted the wrong tone, and that he must offer something else than +peevishness and irritation to ward off Westby’s humor; already it gave +indications of becoming too audacious. Yet on the whole Irving was +pleased because he had at least asserted himself—and had rather enjoyed +doing it. And an hour later it seemed to him that he had lost all that +he had gained. + +Roast beef was the unvarying dish at Sunday dinner; a large and fragrant +sirloin was set before the head of each table to be carved. Irving took +up the carving knife and fork with some misgivings. Hitherto he had had +nothing more difficult to deal with than steaks or chops or croquettes +or stews; and carving was an art that he had never learned; confronted +by the necessity, he was amazed to find that he had so little idea of +how to proceed. The first three slices came off readily enough, though +they were somewhat ragged, and Irving was aware that Westby was +surveying his operations with a critical interest. The knife seemed to +grow more dull, the meat more wobbly, more tough, the bone got more and +more in the way; the maid who was passing the vegetables was waiting, +all the boys except the three who had been helped first were waiting, +coldly critical, anxiously apprehensive; silence at this table had begun +to reign. + +Irving felt himself blushing and muttered, “This knife’s awfully dull,” +as he sawed away. At last he hacked off an unsightly slab and passed it +to Westby, whose turn it was and who wrinkled his nose at it in +disfavor. + +“Please have this knife sharpened,” Irving said to the maid. She put +down the potatoes and the corn, and departed with the instrument to the +kitchen. + +Irving glanced at the other tables; everybody seemed to have been +served, everybody was eating; Scarborough, who was in charge of the next +table, had entirely demolished his roast. + +“I’m sorry to keep you fellows waiting,” Irving said, “but that’s the +dullest knife I ever handled.” + +He addressed the remark to the totally unprovided side of his table; he +turned his head just in time to catch Westby’s humorous mouth and droll +droop of an eyelid. The other boys smiled, and Irving’s cheeks grew more +hot. + +“You’ll excuse me, Mr. Upton, if I don’t wait, won’t you?” said Westby. +“Don’t get impatient, fellows.” + +The maid returned with the carving knife; Westby paused in his eating to +observe. Irving made another unsuccessful effort; the meat quivered and +shook and slid under his attack, and the knife slipped and clashed down +upon the platter. + +“Perhaps if you would stand up to it, sir, you would do better,” +suggested Westby, in an insidious voice. “Nobody else does, but if it +would be easier—” + +“Thank you, but the suggestion is unnecessary,” Irving retorted. He +added to the other boys, while he struggled, “It’s the meat, I guess, +not the knife, after all—” + +“Why, I shouldn’t say it was the meat,” interposed Westby. “The meat’s +quite tender.” + +Irving glanced at him in silent fury, clamped his lips together, and +went on sawing. He finally was able to hand to Carroll a plate on which +reposed a mussy-looking heap of beef. Carroll wrinkled his nose over it +as Westby had done. + +“If I might venture to suggest, sir,” said Westby politely, “you could +send it out and have it carved in the kitchen.” + +Irving surrendered; he looked up and said to the maid,— + +“Please take this out and have it carved outside.” + +He felt that he could almost cry from the humiliation, but instead he +tried to assume cheerfulness and dignity. + +“I’m sorry,” he said, “to have to keep you fellows waiting; we’ll try to +arrange things so that it won’t happen again.” + +The boys accepted the apology in gloomy silence. At Scarborough’s table +their plight was exciting comment; Irving was aware of the curious +glances which had been occasioned by the withdrawal of the roast. It +seemed to him that he was publicly disgraced; there was a peculiar +ignominy in sitting at the head of a table and being unable to perform +the simplest duty of host. Worst of all, in the encounter with Westby he +had lost ground. + +The meat was brought on again, sliced in a manner which could not +conceal the unskillfulness of the original attack. + +“Stone cold!” exclaimed Blake, the first boy to test it. + +Irving’s temper flew up. “Don’t be childish,” he said. “And don’t make +any more comments about this matter. It’s of no importance—and cold +roast beef is just as good for you as hot.” + +“If not a great deal better,” added Westby with an urbanity that set +every one snickering. + +After dinner Irving was again on duty for two hours in the dormitory, +until the time for afternoon chapel. During part of this period the boys +were expected to be in their rooms, preparing the Bible lesson which had +to be recited after chapel to the rector. Irving made the rounds and +saw that each boy was in his proper quarters, then went to his own room. +For an hour he enjoyed quiet. Then the bell rang announcing that the +study period was at an end. Instantly there was a commotion in the +corridors—legitimate enough; but soon it centred in the north wing and +grew more and more clamorous, more and more mirthful. + +With a sigh Irving went forth to quell it. He determined that whatever +happened he would not this time lose his temper; he would try to be +persuasive and yet firm. + +The noise was in Allison’s room; the unfortunate Allison was again being +persecuted. Loud whoops of laughter and the sound of vigorous scuffling, +of tumbling chairs and pounding feet, came to Irving’s ears. The door to +Allison’s room was wide open; Irving stood and looked upon a pile of +bodies heaped on the bed, with struggling arms and legs; even in that +moment the foot of the iron bedstead collapsed, and the pile rolled off +upon the floor. There were Morrill and Carroll and Westby and Dennison +and at the bottom Allison—all looking very much rumpled, very red. + +“Oh, come, fellows!” said Irving in what he intended to make an +appealing voice. “Less noise, less noise—or I shall really have to +report you—I shall really!” + +But he did not speak with any confidence; his manner was hesitating, +almost deprecating. The boys grinned at him and then sauntered, rather +indifferently, out of the room. + +There was no more disorder that day. But some hours later, when Irving +came up to the dormitory before supper, he heard laughter in the west +wing, where Collingwood and Westby and Scarborough had their rooms. Then +he heard Westby’s voice, raised in an effeminate, pleading tone: “Less +noise, fellows, less noise—or I shall have to report you—I shall +really!” + +There was more laughter at the mimicry, and Irving heard Collingwood +ask, + +“Where did you get that, Wes?” + +“Oh, from Kiddy—this afternoon.” + +“Poor Kiddy! He seemed to be having an awful time at noon over that +roast beef.” + +“He’s such a dodo—he’s more fun than a goat. I can put him up in the air +whenever I want to,” boasted Westby. “He’s the easiest to get rattled I +ever saw. I’m going to play horse with him in class to-morrow.” + +“How?” asked Collingwood; and Irving basely pricked up his ears. + +“Oh, you’ll see.” + +Irving closed the door of his room quietly. “We’ll see, will we?” he +muttered, pacing back and forth. “Yes, I guess some one will see.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BAITING OF A MASTER + + +The room in which the Sixth Form assembled for the lesson in Geometry +was on the top floor of the Study building; the windows overlooked the +pond behind the Gymnasium. The teacher’s desk was on a platform in the +corner; a blackboard extended along two walls; and there were steps +beneath the blackboard on which the students stood to make their +demonstrations. + +Irving arrived a minute before the hour and found his class already +assembled—a suspicious circumstance. There was, too, he felt, an air of +subdued, joyous expectancy. He took his seat and, adjusting his +spectacles, peered round the room; his eyesight was very bad, and he +had, moreover, like so many bookworms, never trained his faculty of +observation. + +He read the roll of the class; every boy was there. + +“Scarborough, you may go to the blackboard and demonstrate the Fifth +Theorem; Dennison, you the Sixth; Westby, you the Eighth. The rest of +you will solve at your seats this problem.” + +He mounted to the blackboard himself and wrote out the question. While +he had his back turned, he heard some whispering; he looked over his +shoulder. Westby was lingering in his seat and had obviously been +holding communication with his neighbor. + +“Westby,”—Irving’s voice was sharp,—“were you trying to get help at the +last moment?” + +“I was not.” Westby’s answer was prompt. + +“Then don’t delay any longer, please; go to the blackboard at once.” + +“Yes, sir.” + +Westby moved to the blackboard on the side of the room—the one at right +angles to that on which Irving and Scarborough were at work. + +Irving finished his writing, dusted the chalk from his fingers, and +returned to his seat. The boys before him were now bent industriously +over their tablets; Scarborough, Westby, and Dennison were drawing +figures on the blackboard, using the long pointers for rulers and making +beautiful circles by means of chalk attached to pieces of string. A +glance at Westby showed that youth apparently intent upon solving the +problem assigned him and at work upon it intelligently. Irving began to +feel serene; he proceeded to correct the algebra exercises of the Fourth +Form, which he had received the hour before. + +A sudden titter from some one down in front, hastily suppressed and +transformed into a cough, caused him to look up. Morrill, with his mouth +hidden behind his hand, was glancing off toward Westby, and Irving +followed the direction of the glance. + +Westby had completed his geometrical figures and was now engaged in +labeling them with letters. But instead of employing the usual +geometrical symbols A, B, C, and so on, he was skipping about through +the alphabet, and Irving immediately perceived that he was not choosing +letters at random. Irving observed that the initials of his own name, I, +C, U, formed, as it were, the corner-stone of the geometrical edifice. + +At that moment Westby coughed—an unnatural cough. And instantly a +miracle happened; every single wooden eraser—there were half a dozen of +them—leaped from its place on the shelf beneath the blackboard and +tumbled clattering down the steps to the floor. At the same instant +Westby flung up both arms, tottered on the topmost step, and succeeded +in regaining his poise with apparently great difficulty. + +The class giggled. + +“Mr. Upton, sir! Mr. Upton, sir!” cried Westby excitedly. “Did you feel +the earthquake? It was very noticeable on this side of the room. Do you +think it’s safe for us to stay indoors, sir? There may be another +shock!” + +“Westby,” Irving’s voice had a nervous thrill that for the moment +quieted the laughter, “did you cause those erasers to be pulled down?” + +“Did I cause them to be pulled down? I don’t understand, sir. How could +I, sir? Six of them all at once!” + +“Bring me one of those erasers, please.” + +Westby stooped; there was a sound of snapping string. Then he came +forward and presented the eraser. + +“You tied string to all these erasers, did you?” Irving examined the +fragment that still clung to the object. “And then arranged to have them +pulled down?” + +“You see how short that string is, sir; nobody could have reached it to +pull it. Didn’t you feel the earthquake, sir? Didn’t you see how it +almost threw me off my feet? Really, I don’t believe it’s quite safe to +stay here—” + +“You may be right; I shouldn’t wonder at all if there was a second shock +coming to you soon,” said Irving, and the subdued chuckle that went +round the class told him he had scored. “You may now demonstrate to the +class the Theorem assigned you.” + +“Yes, sir.” Westby turned and took up the pointer. + +“We have here,” he began, “the two triangles I C U and J A Y—with the +angle I C U of the one equal to the angle J A Y of the other.” The class +tittered; Westby went on glibly, bending the lath-like pointer between +his hands: “Let us now erect the angle K I D, equal to the angle I C U; +then the angle K I D will also be equal to the angle J A Y—things equal +to the same thing are equal to each other.” + +Westby stopped to turn a surprised, questioning look upon the snickering +class. + +“Yes, that will do for that demonstration,” said Irving. He rose from +his seat; his lips were trembling, and the laughter of the class ceased. +“You may leave the room—for your insolence—at once!” + +He had meant to be dignified and calm, but his anger had rushed to the +surface, and his words came in a voice that suggested he was on the +verge of tears. + +“I beg your pardon, sir, but I don’t think I quite understand,” said +Westby suavely. + +“You understand well enough. I ask you to leave the room.” + +“I’m afraid, Mr. Upton, that my little pleasantries—usually considered +harmless—do not commend themselves to you. But you hurt my feelings very +much, sir, when you apply such a harsh word as insolence to my whimsical +humor—” + +“I’ll hold no argument with you,” cried Irving; in his excitement his +voice rose thin and thrill. “Leave the room at once.” + +Westby laid the pointer and the chalk on the shelf, blew the dust from +his fingers, and walked towards his seat. Irving took a step forward; +his face was white. + +“What do you mean!—What do you mean! I told you to leave the room.” + +Westby faced him with composure through which showed a sneer; for the +first time the boy was displaying contempt; hitherto his attitude had +been jocose and cajoling. + +“I was going for my cap,” he said, and his eyes flashed scornfully. +Then, regardless of the master’s look, he continued past the row of his +classmates, took up his cap, and retraced his steps towards the door. +Irving stood watching him, with lips compressed in a stern line; the +line thinned even more when he saw Westby bestow on his friends a droll, +drooping wink of the left eyelid. + +And then, while all the class sat in silence, Westby did an audacious +thing—a thing that set every one except Irving off into a joyous titter. +He went out of the door doing the sailor’s hornpipe,—right hand on +stomach, left hand on back, left hand on stomach, right hand on back, +and taking little skips as he alternated the position. And so, skipping +merrily, he disappeared down the corridor. + +Irving returned to his platform. His hands were trembling, and he felt +weak. When he spoke, he hardly knew his own voice. But he struggled to +control it, and said,— + +“Scarborough, please go to the board and demonstrate your theorem.” + +There was no more disorder in class that day; in fact, after Westby’s +disappearance the boys were exceptionally well behaved. Slowly Irving +recovered his composure, yet the ordeal left him feeling as if he wanted +to shut himself up in his room and lie down. He knew that he had lost +command of his temper; he regretted the manner in which he had stormed +at Westby; but he thought nevertheless that the treatment had been +effective and therefore not entirely to be deplored. The boys had +thought him soft; he had shown them that he was not; and he determined +that from this time forth he would bear down upon them hard. If by +showing them amiability and kindliness he had failed to win their +respect, he would now compel it by ferocity. He would henceforth show no +quarter to any malefactor. + +Walking up to his room, he fell in with Barclay, who was also returning +from a class. + +“What is the extreme penalty one can inflict on a boy who misbehaves?” +he asked. + +“For a single act?” asked Barclay. + +“For one that’s a climax of others—insolence, disobedience, disorder—all +heaped into one.” + +Irving spoke hotly, and Barclay glanced at him with a sympathetic +interest. + +“Well,” said Barclay, “three sheets and six marks off in decorum is +about the limit. After that happens to a boy two or three times, the +rector is likely to take a hand.—If you don’t mind my saying it, +though—in my opinion it’s a mistake to start in by being extreme.” + +“In ordinary cases, perhaps.” Irving’s tone did not invite questioning, +and he did not confide to Barclay what extraordinary case he had under +consideration. + +When he reached his room, he wrote out on a slip of paper, “Westby, +insolence and disorder in class, three sheets,” and laid the paper on +his desk. Then he undertook to correct the exercises in geometry which +had been the fruit of the Sixth Form’s labors in the last hour; but +after going through five or six of them, his mind wandered; it reverted +uneasily to the thought of his future relations with those boys. He rose +and paced about the room, and hardened his heart. He would be just as +strict and stern and severe with them all as he possibly could be. When +he had them well trained, he might attempt to win their liking—if that +seemed any longer worth having! It did not seem so to him now; all he +wanted to know now was that he had awakened in them respect and fear. + +Respect and fear—could he have inspired those, by his excitable +shriekings in the class room, by his lack of self-control in dormitory +and at the dinner table, by his incompetence when confronted with a +roast of beef! Each incident that recurred to him was of a kind to bring +with it the sting of mortification; his cheeks tingled. He must at least +learn how to perform the simple duties expected of a master; he could +not afford to continue giving exhibitions of ignorance and incompetence. + +Moved by this impulse, he descended to the kitchen—precincts which he +had never before entered and in which his appearance created at first +some consternation. The cook, however, was obliging; and when he had +confessed himself the incapable one who had sent out the mutilated beef +to be carved, she was most reassuring in her speech, and taking the cold +remains of a similar cut from the ice chest, she gave him an object +lesson. She demonstrated to him how he should begin the attack, how he +might foil the bone that existed only to baffle, how slice after slice +might fall beneath his sure and rapid slashes. + +“I see,” said Irving, taking the knife and fork from her and making some +imaginary passes. “The fork so—the knife so. And you will always be sure +to have a sharp carving knife for me—very sharp?” + +The cook smiled and promised, and he extravagantly left her +contemplating a dollar bill. + +Shortly after he had returned to his room the bell on the Study building +rang, announcing the end of the morning session. There was half an hour +before luncheon; soon the boys came tramping up the stairs and past +Irving’s closed door. Soon also a racketing began in the corridors; +Irving suspected an intention to bait him still further; it was +probably Westby once again. He waited until the noise became too great +to be ignored—shouting and battering and scuffling; then he went forth +to quell it. + +To his surprise Westby was not engaged in the disturbance—was, in fact, +not visible. Collingwood, with his back turned, was in the act of +hurling a football to the farther end of the corridor, where Scarborough +and Morrill and Dennison were gathered. The forward pass was new in +football this year, and although the playing season had not yet begun, +Irving had already seen fellows practicing for it, in front of the Study +and behind the dormitory. Collingwood, he knew, was captain of the +school football eleven, and naturally had all the latest developments of +the game, such as the forward pass, very much on his mind. Still that +was no excuse for playing football in the corridor. + +Morrill had caught the ball, and as Irving approached, undertook to +return it. But it ricochetted against the wall and bounced down at +Collingwood’s feet. Collingwood seized it and was poising it in his hand +for another throw when Irving spoke behind him—sharply, for he was +mindful of his resolve to be severe:— + +“No more of that, Collingwood.” + +The boy turned eagerly and said,— + +“Oh, Mr. Upton, I’m just getting on to how to do it. Here, let me show +you. You take it this way, along the lacings—the trouble is, my hand’s +not quite long enough to get a good grip—and then you take it like +this—” + +“Yes,” said Irving coldly; he had an idea that Collingwood had adopted +Westby’s method and was engaged in chaffing him. “You needn’t show me.” + +And he turned abruptly and went into his room, closing the door behind +him. + +Collingwood stood, looking round over his shoulder after Irving and +holding the ball out in the arrested attitude of one about to throw. On +his face was an expression of utter amazement, which rapidly gave place +to indignation. Collingwood had a temper, and sometimes—even when he +was not on the football field—it flared up. + +“Of all the chumps!” he muttered; and he turned, and poising the ball +again, flung it with all his strength at the master’s door. It went +straight to the mark, crashed against the upper panel with a tremendous +bang, and rebounded to Collingwood’s feet. + +Irving opened the door and came out with a leap. + +“Collingwood,” he cried, and his voice was quivering as it had quivered +that morning in class, “did you throw that ball?” + +“I did,” said Collingwood. + +“Very well. I shall report you. I will have no more of this insolence.” + +He swung round and shut himself again in his room. The fellows at the +other end of the corridor had stood aghast; now they came hurrying up. +Collingwood was laughing. + +“Kiddy’s getting to be a regular lion,” he said, and when Morrill and +Dennison were for expressing their indignation, he only laughed the +more. + +It was not very pleasant for Irving at luncheon. Westby gave him an +amused glance when he came in—more amused than hostile—and Irving +preserved his dignity by returning an unflinching look. Westby made no +further overtures for a while; the other boys chattered among +themselves, about football and tennis, and Irving sat silent at the head +of the table. At last, however, Westby turned to him. + +“Mr. Upton,” said Westby deferentially, “how would you explain this? +There’s a dog, and he must be doing one of two things; either he’s +running or he’s not running. If he’s not doing the one, he is doing the +other, isn’t he?” + +“I suppose so,” said Irving. + +“Well, he’s not running. Therefore—he is running. How do you explain +that, Mr. Upton?” + +Irving smiled feebly; the other boys were thinking it over with puzzled +faces. + +“That’s an old quibble,” said Irving. “The alternative for running is +not running. Therefore when he’s not running—he’s _not_ running.” + +“I don’t see that that explains it,” answered Westby. “That’s just +making a statement—but it isn’t logic.” + +“He’s not running is the negative of he’s running; he’s not not-running +is the negative of he’s not running—” + +“Then,” said Westby, “how fast must a dog travel that is not not-running +to catch a dog that is not exactly running but only perhaps?” + +The boys laughed; Irving retorted, “That’s a problem that you might work +out on the blackboard sometime.” + +Thereupon Westby became silent, and Irving more than half repented of +his speech; he knew that in its reference it had been ill-natured. + +He noticed later in the day when he went up to the dormitory that the +boys tiptoed about the corridors and conversed in whispers; there was an +extravagant air of quiet. When they went down to supper, they tiptoed +past Irving’s room in single file, saying in unison, “Sh! Sh! Sh!” They +all joined in this procession—from Collingwood to Allison. Irving felt +that he had taken Allison’s place as the laughing-stock, the butt of the +dormitory. + +In the evening they came to bid him good-night—not straggling up as they +usually did, but in a delegation, expectant and amused. Westby and +Collingwood were in the van when Irving opened his door in response to +the knock. + +“We didn’t know whether you’d shake hands with two such reprobates or +not,” said Westby. “We thought it wasn’t quite safe to come up alone—so +we’ve brought a bodyguard.” + +Irving did not smile, though, all the boys were grinning. He shook hands +formally with Collingwood, then with Westby, then with the others, +saying good-night to each; as they left him, they tiptoed to their +rooms. He thought grimly that, whatever might be the sentiments +entertained towards him, he would not long be living in an atmosphere of +ridicule. + +Irving had charge of the “big study,” as it was called, during the hour +immediately after morning chapel. The boys filed in from chapel and +seated themselves at their desks; the members of the Sixth Form, who +were privileged to study in their rooms and therefore had no desks in +the schoolroom, occupied the stalls along the wall under the big clock. +Last of all the rector entered and, mounting the platform, read the +“reports” for the day—that is, the names of those who had transgressed +and the penalties imposed. After the reading, the Sixth Form went +upstairs to their Latin class with Mr. Barclay, and the day’s work +began. + +On the morning following his encounters with Westby and with +Collingwood, Irving as usual took charge of the Study. The boys +assembled; Irving rang the bell, reducing them to quiet; Dr. Davenport +came in, mounted the platform, and took up the report book—in which +Irving had just finished transcribing his entries. + +Dr. Davenport began reading in his clear, emphatic voice, “Out of +bounds, Mason, Sterrett, Coyle, one sheet; late to study, Hart, +McQuiston, Durfee, Stratton, Kane, half a sheet; tardy to breakfast—” +and so on. None of the offenses were very serious; and the rector read +them out rapidly. But at last he paused a moment; and then, looking up +from the book, he said, with grave distinctness, “Disorderly in class +and insolent, Westby, three sheets; disorderly in dormitory and +insolent, Collingwood, three sheets.” + +He closed the book; a stir, a thrill of interest, ran round the room. +For a Sixth Former to be charged with such offenses and condemned to +such punishment was rare: for Collingwood, who was in a sense the leader +of the school, to be so charged and punished was unprecedented. + +Collingwood, sitting directly under the clock, and facing so many +curious questioning eyes, turned red; Westby, standing by the door, +looked at him and smiled. At the same time, Dr. Davenport, closing the +report-book, leaned towards Irving and said quietly in his ear,— + +“Mr. Upton, I should like to see you about those last two +reports—immediately after this study hour.” + +Irving reddened; the rector’s manner was not approving. + +Dr. Davenport descended from the platform and walked slowly down the +aisle. As he approached, he looked straight at Westby; and Westby +returned the look steadily—as if he was ashamed of nothing. + +The rector passed through the doorway; the Sixth Form followed; the +day’s work began. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MASTER TURNS PUPIL + + +The rector received Irving with a smile. “Well,” he said, “I think you +must be a believer in the maxim, ‘Hit hard and hit first.’ Would you +mind telling me what was the trouble?” + +“It wasn’t so much any one thing,” replied Irving. “It was a culmination +of little things.—Oh, I suppose I started in wrong with the fellows +somehow.” + +He was silent for a moment, in dejection. + +“A good many do that,” said Dr. Davenport. “There would be small +progress in the world if there never was any rectifying of false +starts.” + +“I can hardly help it if I look young,” said Irving. “That’s one of my +troubles. I suppose I ought to avoid acting young. I haven’t, +altogether. They call me Kiddy.” + +“We get hardened to nicknames,” observed the rector. “But often they’re +affectionate. At least I like to cherish that delusion with regard to +mine; my legs have the same curve as Napoleon’s, and I have been known +as ‘Old Hoopo’ for years.” + +“But they don’t call you that to your face.” + +“No, not exactly. Have they been calling you ‘Kiddy’ to your face?” + +“It amounts to that.” Irving narrated the remarks that he had overheard +in dormitory, and then described Westby’s performance at the blackboard. + +“That certainly deserved rebuke,” agreed the rector. “Though I think +Westby was attempting to be facetious rather than insolent; I have never +seen anything to indicate that he was a malicious boy.—What was it that +Louis Collingwood did?” + +Irving recited the offense. + +“Weren’t you a little hasty in assuming that he was trying to tease +you?” asked the rector. “When he persisted in wanting to show you how +the forward pass is made? I think it’s quite likely he was sincere; he’s +so enthusiastic over football that it doesn’t occur to him that others +may not share his interest. I don’t think Collingwood was trying to be +‘fresh.’ Of course, he shouldn’t have lost his temper and banged the +ball at your door—but I think that hardly showed malice.” + +“It seemed to me it was insolent—and disorderly. I felt the fellows all +thought they could do anything with me and I would be afraid to report +them. And so I thought I’d show them I wasn’t afraid.” + +“At the same time, three sheets is the heaviest punishment, short of +actual suspension, that we inflict. It seems hardly a penalty for +heedless or misguided jocularity.” + +“I think perhaps I was hard on Collingwood,” admitted Irving. + +“If he comes to you about it—maybe you’ll feel disposed to modify the +punishment. And possibly the same with Westby.” + +“I don’t feel sure that I’ve been too hard on Westby.” + +The rector smiled; he was not displeased at this trace of stubbornness. + +“Well, I won’t advise you any further about that. Use your own judgment. +It takes time for a young man to get his bearings in a place like +this.—If you don’t mind my saying it,” added the rector mildly, +“couldn’t you be a little more objective in your interests?” + +“You mean,” said Irving, “less—less self-centred?” + +“That’s it.” The rector smiled. + +“I’ll try,” said Irving humbly. + +“All right; good luck.” The rector shook hands with him and turned to +his desk. + +There was no disturbance in the Mathematics class that day. Irving hoped +that after the hour Westby and Collingwood might approach him to discuss +the justice of the reports which he had given them, and so offer him an +opportunity of lightening the punishment. But in this he was +disappointed. Nor did they come to him in the noon recess—the usual time +for boys who felt themselves wronged to seek out the masters who had +wronged them. + +Irving debated with himself the advisability of going to the two boys +and voluntarily remitting part of their task. But he decided against +this; to make the advances and the concession both would be to concede +too much. + +At luncheon there was an unpleasant moment. No sooner had the boys sat +down than Blake, a Fifth Former, called across the table to Westby,— + +“Say, Westby, who was it that gave you three sheets?” + +Westby scowled and replied,— + +“Mr. Upton.” + +“What for?” + +“Oh, ask him.” + +Irving reddened, aware of the glancing, curious gaze of every boy at the +table. There was an interesting silence, relieved at last by the +appearance of the boy with the mail. Among the letters, Irving found one +from Lawrence; he opened it with a sense that it afforded him a +momentary refuge. The unintended irony of the first words drew a bitter +smile to his lips. + +“You are certainly a star teacher,” Lawrence wrote, “and I know now what +a success you must be making with your new job. I have just learned that +I passed all the examinations—which is more than you or I ever dreamed I +could do—so I am now a freshman at Harvard without conditions. And it’s +all due to you; I don’t believe there’s another man on earth that could +have got me through with such a record and in so short a time.” + +Irving forgot the irony, forgot Westby and Collingwood and the amused, +whispering boys. Happiness had suddenly flashed down and caught him up +and borne him away to his brother. Lawrence’s whole letter was so gay, +so exultant, so grateful that Irving, when he finished it, turned back +again to the first page. When at last he raised his eyes from it, they +dwelt unseeingly upon the boys before him; they held his brother’s +image, his brother’s smile. And from the vision he knew that there at +least he had justified himself, whatever might be his failure now; and +if he had succeeded once, he could succeed again. + +Irving became aware that Westby was treating him with cheerful +indifference—ignoring him. He did not care; the letter had put into him +new courage. And pretty soon there woke in him along with this courage a +gentler spirit; it was all very well for Westby, a boy and therefore +under discipline, to exhibit a stiff and haughty pride; but it was +hardly admirable that a master should maintain that attitude. The +punishment to which he had sentenced Westby and Collingwood was, it +appeared, too harsh; if they were so proud that they would not appeal to +him to modify it, he would make a sacrifice in the interest of justice. + +So after luncheon he followed Westby and spoke to him outside of the +dining-room. + +“Westby,” he said, “do you think that considering the circumstances +three sheets is excessive?” + +Westby looked surprised; then he shrugged his shoulders. + +“I’m not asking any favors,” he replied. + +Irving laughed. “No,” he said, “I see you’re not. But I’m afraid I must +deny you the pleasure of martyrdom. I’ll ask you to take a note to Mr. +Elwood—he’s in charge of the Study, isn’t he? I’ll tell him that you’re +to write a sheet and a half instead of three sheets.” + +He drew a note-book from his pocket and tore out one of the pages. +Westby looked at him curiously—as if in an effort to determine just how +poor-spirited this sudden surrender was. Irving spoke again before +writing. + +“By the way, will you please ask Collingwood to come here?” + +When Westby returned with Collingwood, Irving had the note written and +handed it to him; there was no excuse for Westby to linger. He went over +and waited by the door, while Irving said,— + +“Collingwood, why didn’t you come up and ask me to reduce your report? +Didn’t you think it was unfair?” + +“Yes,” Collingwood answered promptly. + +“Well, then—why didn’t you come to me and say so?” + +Collingwood thought a moment. + +“Well,” he said, “you had such fun in soaking me that I wasn’t going to +give you the additional satisfaction of seeing me cry baby.” + +“I’ll learn something about boys sometime—if you fellows will keep on +educating me,” observed Irving. “I think your performance of yesterday +deserves about a sheet; we’ll make it that.” + +He scribbled a note and handed it to the boy. + +“Thank you, Mr. Upton.” Collingwood tucked the note into his pocket with +a friendly smile, and then joined Westby. + +“Knock you down to half a sheet?” asked Westby, as they departed in the +direction of the Study, where they were to perform their tasks. + +“No; a sheet.” + +“Mine’s one and a half now. What got into him?” + +“He’s not without sense,” said Collingwood. + +“Ho!” Westby was derisive. “He’s soft. He got scared. He knew he’d gone +too far—and he was afraid to stand by his guns.” + +“I don’t think so. I think he’s just trying to do the right thing.” + +It was unfortunate for Irving that later in the afternoon Carter of the +Fifth Form—who played in the banjo club with Westby—was passing the +Study building just as Westby was coming out from his confinement. + +“Hello, Wes!” said Carter. “Thought you were in for three sheets; how do +you happen to be at large so soon?” + +“Kiddy made it one and a half—without my asking him,” said Westby. + +“And Collingwood the same?” + +“He made his only a sheet.” + +“That’s it,” said Carter shrewdly. “I was waiting to see the rector this +morning; the door was open, and he had Kiddy in there with him. I guess +he was lecturing him on those reports; I guess he told him he’d have to +take off a couple of sheets.” + +“I shouldn’t wonder,” said Westby. “I don’t believe old Hoopo would +have interfered much on my account,—but I guess he couldn’t stand for +Lou Collingwood getting three sheets. And Kiddy, the fox, tried to make +us think he was being magnanimous!” + +Westby chuckled over his humorous discovery, and as soon as possible +imparted it to Collingwood. + +“Oh, well, what if the rector did make him do it?” said Collingwood. +“The way he did it shows he’s all right—” + +“Trying to get the credit with us for being just and generous!” observed +Westby. “Oh, I don’t mind; of course it’s only Kiddy.” + +And it was Westby’s view of the matter which most of the boys heard and +credited. So the improvement in the general attitude for which Irving +had hoped was hardly to be noticed. He had some gratification the next +Sunday when the roast beef was brought on and he carved it with +creditable ease and dispatch; the astonishment of the whole table, and +especially of Westby and Carroll, was almost as good as applause. He +could not resist saying, in a casual way, “The knife seems to be sharp +this Sunday.” And he felt that for once Westby was nonplussed. + +But the days passed, and Irving felt that he was not getting any nearer +to the boys. At his table the talk went on before him, mainly about +athletics, about college life, about Europe and automobiles,—all topics +from which he seemed strangely remote. It needed only the talk of these +experienced youths to make him realize that he had gone through college +without ever touching “college life,”—its sports, its social diversions, +its adventures. It had been for him a life in a library, in classrooms, +in his own one shabby little room,—a cloistered life; in the hard work +of it and the successful winning of his way he had been generally +contented and happy. But he could not talk to these boys about “college +life” as it appeared to them; and they very soon, perhaps by common +consent, eliminated him from the conversation. Nor was he able to cope +with Westby in the swift, glancing monologues which flowed on and on +sometimes, to the vast amusement of the audience. Often to Irving these +seemed not very funny, and he did not know which was the more trying—to +sit grave and unconcerned in the midst of so much mirth or to keep his +mouth stretched in an insincere, wooden smile. Whichever he did, he felt +that Westby always was taking notes, to ridicule him afterwards to the +other boys. + +One habit which Westby had was that of bringing a newspaper to supper +and taking the table with him in an excursion over headlines and +advertising columns. His mumbling manner, his expertness in bringing out +distinctly a ridiculous or incongruous sentence, and his skill in +selecting such sentences at a glance always drew attention and applause; +he had the comedian’s technique. + +The boys at the neighboring tables, hearing so much laughter and seeing +that Westby was provoking it, would stop eating and twist round and tilt +back their chairs and strain their ears eagerly for some fragment of the +fun. At last at the head table Mr. Randolph took cognizance of this +daily boisterousness, spoke to Irving about it, and asked him to curb +it. Irving thereupon suggested to Westby that he refrain from reading +his newspaper at table. + +“But all the fellows depend on me to keep them _au courant_, as it +were.” Westby was fond of dropping into French in his arguments with +Irving. + +“You will have to choose some other time for it,” Irving answered. “I +understand that there is a rule against reading newspapers at table, and +I think it must be observed.” + +“Oh, very well,—_de bon cœur_,” said Westby. + +The next day at supper he appeared without his newspaper. But in the +course of the meal he drew from his pocket some newspaper clippings +which he had pasted together and which he began to read in his usual +manner. Soon the boys of the table were laughing, soon the boys of the +adjacent tables were twisting round and trying to share in the +amusement. Westby read in his rapid consecutive way,— + +“‘Does no good unless taken as directed—pain in the back, loins, or +region of the kidneys—danger signal nature hangs out—um—um—um. Mother +attacks son with razor, taking tip of left ear. Catcher Dan McQuilligan +signs with the Red Sox—The Woman Beautiful—Bright Eyes: Every woman is +entitled to a clear, brilliant complexion—um—if she is not so blessed, +it is usually her own fault—um—Candidate for pulchritude: reliable +beauty shop—do not clip the eyelashes—um.—Domestic science column—Baked +quail: pick, draw, and wipe the bird outside and inside; use a wet +cloth.—No, Hortense, it is not necessary to offer a young man +refreshments during an evening call.’” + +Westby was going on and on; he had a hilarious audience now of three +tables. From the platform at the end of the dining-room Mr. Randolph +looked down and shook his head—shook it emphatically; and Irving, seeing +it, understood the signal. + +“Westby,” said Irving. “Westby!” He had to raise his voice. + +“Yes, sir?” Westby looked up innocently. + +“I will have to ask you to discontinue your reading.” + +“But this is not a newspaper.” + +“It’s part of one.” + +“Yes, sir, but the rule is against bringing newspapers to table—not +against bringing newspaper clippings to table.” + +“The rule’s been changed,” said Irving. “It now includes clippings.” + +“You see how it is, fellows.” Westby turned to the others. +“Persecuted—always persecuted. If I’m within the rules—they change the +rules to soak me. Well,”—he folded up his clippings and put them in his +pocket,—“the class in current topics is dismissed. But instead Mr. Upton +has very kindly consented to entertain us this evening—some of his +inimitable chit-chat—” + +“I wouldn’t always try to be facetious, Westby,” said Irving. + +“I beg your pardon, sir,” replied Westby urbanely. “If I have wounded +your sensibilities—I would not do that—never—_jamais—pas du tout_.” + +Irving said nothing; it seemed to him that Westby always had the last +word; it seemed to him as if Westby was always skillfully tripping him +up, executing a derisive flourish over his prostrate form, and then +prancing away to the cheers of the populace. + +But there were no more violent encounters, such as had taken place in +the class-room; Westby never quite crossed the line again; and Irving +controlled his temper on threatening occasions. These occurred in +dormitory less often; the fine weather and the fall sports—football and +tennis and track athletics—kept the boys out-doors. On rainy afternoons +there was apt to be some noise and disorder—usually there was what was +termed an “Allison hunt,” which took various forms, but which, whether +resulting in the dismemberment of the boy’s room or the pursuit and +battery of him with pillows along the corridors, invariably required +Irving’s interference to quell it. This task of interference, though it +was one that he came to perform more and more capably, never grew less +distasteful or less humiliating; he saw always the row of faces wearing +what he construed as an impudent grin. What seemed to him curious was +the fact that Allison after a fashion enjoyed—at least did not +resent—the outrages of which he was the subject; after them he would be +found sitting amicably with his tormentors, drinking their chocolate and +eating their crackers and jam. This was so different from his own +attitude after he had been teased that Irving could not understand it. +After studying the case, he concluded that the “Allison hunts” were not +prompted by any hatred of the subject, but by the fact merely that he +was big, clumsy, good-natured, slow-witted—easy to make game of—and +especially by the fact that when aroused he showed a certain joyous rage +in his own defense. But Irving saw no way of learning a lesson from +Allison. + +As the days went on, the sense of his isolation in the School became +more oppressive. He had thought that if only the fellows would let him +alone, he would be contented; he found that was not so. They let him +alone now entirely; he envied those masters who were popular—whom boys +liked to visit on Sunday evenings, who were consulted about +contributions to the _Mirror_, the school paper, who were invited to +meetings of the Stylus, the literary society, who coached the football +elevens or went into the Gymnasium and did “stunts” with the boys on the +flying rings. + +One day when he was walking down to the athletic field with Mr. Barclay, +he said something that hinted his wistful and unhappy state of mind. +Barclay had suspected it and had been waiting for such an opportunity. + +“Why don’t you make some interest for yourself which would put you on a +footing with the boys—outside of the class-room and the dormitory?” he +asked. + +“I wish I could. But how?” + +“You ought to be able to work up an interest of some sort,” said Barclay +vaguely. + +“I don’t know anything about athletics; I’m not musical, I don’t seem to +be able to be entertaining and talk to the boys. I guess I’m just a +grind. I shall never be of much use as a teacher; it’s bad enough to +feel that you’re not up to your job. It’s worse when it makes you feel +that you’re even less up to the job that you hoped to prepare for.” + +“How’s that?” + +“I meant to study law; I’d like to be a lawyer. But what’s the use? If I +can’t learn to handle boys, how can I ever hope to handle men?—and +that’s what a lawyer has to do, I suppose.” + +“Look here,” said Barclay. “You’re still young; if you’ve learned what’s +the matter with you—and you seem to have—you’ve learned more than most +fellows of your age. It’s less than a month that you’ve been here, and +you’ve never had any experience before in dealing with boys. Why should +you expect to know it all at once?” + +“I suppose there’s something in that. But I feel that I haven’t it in me +ever to get on with them.” + +“You’re doing better now than you did at first; they don’t look on you +entirely as a joke now, do they?” + +“Perhaps not.—Oh,” Irving broke out, “I know what the trouble is—I want +to be liked—and I suppose I’m not the likeable kind.” + +Barclay did not at once dispute this statement, and Irving was beginning +to feel hurt. + +“The point is,” said Barclay at last, “that to be liked by boys you’ve +got to like them. If you hold off from them and distrust them and try to +wrap yourself up in a cloak of dignity or mystery, they won’t like you +because they won’t know you. If you show an interest in them and their +interests, you can be as stern with them as justice demands, and they +won’t lay it up against you. But if you don’t show an interest—why, you +can’t expect them to have an interest in you.” + +They turned a bend in the road; the athletic field lay spread out before +them. In different parts of it half a dozen football elevens were +engaged in practice; on the tennis courts near the athletic house boys +in white trousers and sweaters were playing; on the track encircling +the football field other boys more lightly clad were sprinting or +jogging round in practice for long-distance runs; a few sauntered about +as spectators, with hands in their overcoat pockets. + +“There,” said Barclay, indicating a group of these idle observers, “you +can at least do that.” + +“But what’s the use?” + +“Make yourself a critic; pick out eight or ten fellows to watch +especially. In football or tennis or running. It doesn’t much matter. If +they find you’re taking an intelligent interest in what they’re doing, +they’ll be pleased. Westby, for instance, is running; he’s entered for +the hundred yards in the fall games,—likely to win it, too. Westby’s +your greatest trial, isn’t he? Then why don’t you make a point of +watching him?—Not too obviously, of course. Come round with me; I’m +coaching some of the runners for the next half-hour, and then +Collingwood wants me to give his ends a little instruction.” + +“Dear me! If I’d only been an athlete instead of a student in college!” +sighed Irving whimsically. + +“You don’t need to be much of an athlete to coach; I never was so very +much,” confided Barclay. “But there are things you can learn by looking +on.” They had reached the edge of the track; Barclay clapped his hands. +“No, no, Roberts!” The boy who was practising the start for a sprint +looked up. “You mustn’t reel all over the track that way when you start; +you’d make a foul. Keep your elbows in, and run straight.” + +Irving followed Barclay round and tried to grasp the significance of his +comments. Dennison came by at a trot. + +“Longer stride, Dennison! Your running’s choppy! Lengthen out, lengthen +out! That’s better.—I have it!” + +Barclay turned suddenly to Irving. + +“What?” + +“The thing for you to do. We’ll make you an official at the track games +next week. That will give you a standing at once—show everybody that you +are really a keen follower of sport—or want to be.” + +“But what can I do? I suppose an official has to do something.” + +“You can be starter. That will put you right in touch with the fellows +that are entered.” + +“Would I have a revolver? I’ve never fired a gun off in my life.” + +“Then it’s time you did. Of course you’ll have a revolver. And you’ll be +the noisiest, most important man on the field. That’s what you need to +make yourself; wake the fellows up to what you really are!—Now I must be +off to my football men; you’d better hang round here and pick up what +you can about running. And remember—you’re to act as starter.” + +“If you’ll see me through.” + +“I’ll see you through.” + +Barclay waved his hand and swung off across the field. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE PENALTY FOR A FOUL + + +How it was managed Irving did not know, but on the morning of the day +when the fall handicap track games were held Scarborough lingered after +the Sixth Form Geometry class. Scarborough was president of the Athletic +Association. + +“We want somebody to act as starter for the races this afternoon, Mr. +Upton,” said Scarborough. “I wondered if you would help us out.” + +“I should be delighted,” said Irving. “I’ve not had much experience—” + +“Oh, it’s easy enough; Mr. Barclay, I guess, can tell you all that has +to be done. Thank you very much.” + +It was quite as if Irving was the one who was conferring the favor; he +liked Scarborough for the way in which the boy had made the suggestion. +He always had liked him, for Scarborough had never given any trouble; he +seemed more mature than most of the boys, more mature even than Louis +Collingwood. He was not so popular, because he maintained a certain +dignity and reserve; even Westby seemed to stand somewhat in awe of +Scarborough. He was, as Irving understood, the best oarsman in the +school, captain of the school crew, besides being the crack shot-putter +and hammer-thrower; if he and Collingwood had together chosen to throw +their influence against a new master, life would indeed have been hard. +But Scarborough’s attitude had been one of entire indifference; he would +stand by and smile sometimes when Westby was engaged in chaffing Irving, +and then, as if tired of it, he would turn his back and walk away. + +Irving visited Barclay at his house during the noon recess, borrowed his +revolver, and received the last simple instructions. + +“Make sure always that they’re all properly ‘set’ before you fire. If +there’s any fouling at the start, you can call them back and penalize +the fellow that fouled—a yard to five yards, according to your +discretion. But there’s not likely to be any fouling; in most of the +events the fellows are pretty well separated by their handicaps.” + +“I’ll be careful,” said Irving. He inspected the revolver. “It’s all +loaded?” + +“Yes—and there are some blank cartridges. Now, you’re all equipped. If +any questions come up—I’ll be down at the field; I’m to be one of the +judges and you can call on me.” + +At luncheon Irving entered into the talk about the sports to come, +without giving any intimation as to the part which he was to play. + +“They’ve given Heath only thirty yards over Lou Collingwood,” complained +Westby. + +“I thought Lou wasn’t going to run, because of football; he hasn’t been +practising,” said Carroll. + +“I know, but the Pythians have got hold of him, and Dennison’s persuaded +him it’s his duty to run. And I guess he’s good enough without practice +to win from scratch—giving that handicap!” + +“Is Dennison the captain of the Pythian track team?” asked Irving. + +“Yes.” + +“And who’s captain of yours—the Corinthians?” + +“Ned Morrill.” + +“Morrill’s going awfully fast in the quarter now,” said Blake. “I timed +him yesterday.” + +“They’ve handicapped him pretty hard. And he’s apt to be just a shade +late in starting—just as Dave Pratt is apt to be just a shade previous,” +said Westby. “It ought to be a close race between those two.” + +“How much does Pratt get over Morrill?” + +“Five yards. And if he steals another yard on the start—” + +“Dave wouldn’t steal it,” exclaimed Blake indignantly. “You Corinthians +would accuse a man of anything!” + +“Oh, I don’t mean that he’d do it intentionally,” replied Westby. “But +he’s so overanxious and eager always—and he’s apt to get away without +realizing—without the starter realizing.—I wonder who’s going to be +starter, by the way?” + +Nobody knew; Irving did not enlighten them. + +Westby bethought him to ask the same question of Scarborough half an +hour later, when they were dressing in the athletic house. + +“Mr. Upton has consented to serve,” said Scarborough gravely. + +Westby thumped himself down on a bench, dangling one spiked running shoe +by the string. + +“What! Kiddy!” + +“The same,” said Scarborough. + +Westby said nothing more; he stooped and put on his shoe, and then he +rose and came over to Scarborough, who was untangling a knot. He passed +his hand over Scarborough’s head and remarked wonderingly, “Feels +perfectly normal—strange—strange!” + +Morrill came in from outside, clapping his hands. “Corinthians out for +the mile—Heath—Price—Bolton—Edwards—all ready?” + +The four named answered by clumping on their spikes to the door. + +A moment later came the Pythian call from Dennison; Collingwood and +Morse responded. The first event of the day was about to begin. Westby +leisurely brushed his hair, which had been disarranged in the process of +undressing; he was like a cat in respect of his hair and could not +endure to have it rumpled. When it was parted and plastered down to his +satisfaction, he slipped a dressing gown on over his running clothes and +went out of doors. + +The fall track meet was not of the same importance as that in the +spring, which was a scratch event. But there were cups for prizes, and +there was always much rivalry between the two athletic clubs, the +Corinthians and Pythians, as to which could show the most winners. So +for that day the football players rested from their practice; many of +them in fact were entered in the sports—though, like Collingwood, +without any special preparation. The school turned out to look on and +cheer; when Westby left the athletic house, he saw the boys lined up on +the farther side of the track. The field was reserved for contestants +and officials; already many figures in trailing dressing gowns were +wandering over it, and off at one side three or four were having a +preliminary practice in putting the shot. + +But most of those who were privileged to be on the field stood at the +farther side, where the start for the mile run was about to take place. +Westby saw Randolph and Irving kneeling by the track, measuring off the +handicap distances with a tape line; Barclay walked along it, and +summoned the different contestants to their places. By the time that +Westby had crossed the field, the six runners were at their stations; +there was an interval of a hundred and forty yards between Collingwood, +at scratch, and young Price of the Fourth Form. + +Westby came up and stood near Irving, and fixed him with a whimsical +smile. + +“Quite a new departure for you, isn’t it, Mr. Upton?” he said. + +“I thought I’d come down and see if you can run as fast as you can talk, +Westby.” Irving drew out the revolver, somewhat ostentatiously. + +“I hope you won’t shoot any one with that; it looks to me as if you +ought to be careful how you handle it, sir.” + +“Thank you for the advice, Westby.” Irving turned from the humorist, and +raised his voice. “All ready for the mile now! On your marks! Set!” + +He held the pistol aloft and fired, and the six runners trotted away. +There is nothing very exciting about the start of a mile run, and Irving +felt that the intensity with which he had given the commands had been +rather absurd. It was annoying to think that Westby had been standing by +and finding perhaps in his nervousness a delectable subject for mockery +and derision. + +Irving walked down the track towards the finish line. He found Barclay +there holding the watch. + +“You seem to be discharging your arduous duties successfully,” said +Barclay. + +“Oh, so far.” Irving looked up the track; the foremost runners were +rounding the curve at the end of their first lap. He had a moment’s +longing to be one of them, stretching his legs like them, trying out his +strength and speed on the smooth cinder track against others as eager as +himself. He had never done anything of that kind; hardly until now had +he ever felt the desire. Why it should come upon him now so poignantly +he did not know; but on this warm October afternoon, when the air and +the sunshine were as soft as in early September, he wished that he might +be a boy again and do the things which as a boy he had never done. To be +still young and looking on at the sports and the strife of youth, sports +and strife in which he had never borne a part—there was something +humiliating and ignoble in the thought. If he could only be for the +moment the little Fourth Former there, Price—now flying on in the lead +yet casting many fearful backward glances!—Poor child, even Irving’s +inexperienced eyes told him that he could never keep that pace. + +“Go it, kid!” cried three or four older boys good-naturedly, as Price +panted by; and he threw back his head and came down more springily upon +his toes, trying in response to the cheer to display his best form. + +After him came Bolton and Edwards, side by side; and Collingwood, who +started at scratch, had moved up a little on Morse and Heath. Heath was +considered the strongest runner in the event for the Corinthians, and +they urged him on with cries of “Heath! Heath!” as he made the turn. +“You’ve got ’em, Lou!” shouted a group of Pythians the next moment as +Collingwood passed. It was early in the race for any great demonstration +of excitement. + +It was Price whom Irving watched with most sympathy. When he got round +on the farther side of the field, his pace had slackened perceptibly; +Bolton and Edwards passed him and kept on widening the distance; Morse +and Heath passed him at the next turn; and when he came down to the turn +in front of the crowd, running heavily, Collingwood overhauled and +passed him. It was rather an unfeeling thing for Collingwood to do, +right there in front of the crowd, but he was driven to it by force of +circumstances; the four other runners were holding on in a way he did +not like. The cries of encouragement to him and to Heath were more +urgent this time; Bolton and Edwards and Morse had their supporters too. + +Westby ran along the field beside Price, and Irving felt a moment’s +indignation; was Westby taunting the plucky and exhausted small boy? And +then Irving saw that he was not, and at the same instant Barclay turned +to him and said,— + +“Price is Westby’s young cousin.” + +Irving stood near enough to hear Westby say, “Good work, Tom; you set +the pace just right; it’ll kill Collingwood. Now drop out.” + +Price shook his head and kept on; Westby trotted beside him, saying +anxiously, “There’s no use in your wearing yourself all out.” But Price +continued at his determined, pounding trot. + +“He’s a plucky kid,” said Barclay. + +“Rather nice of Westby to take such an interest,” said Irving. + +Barclay nodded. From that point on it became a close and interesting +race, yet every now and then Irving’s eyes strayed to the small figure +toiling farther and farther to the rear—but always toiling. Westby stood +on the edge of the green oval, not far away, and when on the third lap +Heath came by in the lead, ran with him a few moments and shouted advice +and encouragement in his ear; he had to shout, for all the Corinthians +were shouting for Heath now, and the Pythians were shouting just as +loudly for Collingwood, who, pocketed by the two other Corinthians, +Bolton and Edwards, was running fifteen yards behind. Morse, the only +Pythian to support Collingwood, was hopelessly out of it. + +Westby left Heath and turned his eyes backward. His cousin came to the +turn, white-faced, and mouth hanging open; the crowd clapped the boy. +“Quit it, Tom!” cried Westby. “Quit it; there’s no sense—” but Price +went pounding on. Westby stood looking after him with a worried frown, +and then because there was a sudden shout, he turned to look at the +others. + +There, on the farther side of the field, Collingwood had at last +extricated himself from the pocket; he was running abreast of Bolton; +Edwards had fallen behind. Heath was spurting; Collingwood passed +Bolton, but in doing so did not lessen Heath’s lead—a lead of fully +fifteen yards. So they came to the last turn, to the long straight-away +home-stretch; and the crowd clustered by the finish broke and ran up +alongside the track to meet them. Every one was yelling wildly—one name +or another—“Corinthian!” “Pythian!” “Heath!” “Collingwood!” + +Barclay ran across the track with one end of the tape,—the finish line; +Mr. Randolph held the other. “Collingwood! Collingwood!” rose the shout; +Irving, standing on tiptoe, saw that Collingwood was gaining, saw that +at last he and Heath were running side by side; they held together while +the crowd ran with them shouting. Irving pressed closer to the track; +Westby in his dressing gown was jumping up and down beside him, waving +his arms; Irving had to crane his neck and peer, in order to see beyond +those loose flapping sleeves. He saw the light-haired Collingwood and +the black-haired Heath, coming down with their heads back and their +teeth bared and clenched; they were only fifteen yards away. And then +Collingwood leaped ahead; it was as if he had unloosed some latent and +unconquerable spring, which hurled him in a final burst of speed across +the tape and into half a dozen welcoming arms. Heath stumbled after him, +even more in need of such friendly services; but both of them revived +very quickly when Mr. Barclay, rushing into the crowd with the watch, +cried, “Within eight seconds of the record! Both of you fellows will +break it next June.” + +The other runners came gasping in—and Price was still toiling away in +the rear. He had been half a lap behind; he came now into the +home-stretch; the crowd began to laugh, and then more kindly, as he drew +nearer, to applaud. They clapped and called, “Good work, Price!” Westby +met him about fifty yards from the finish and ran with him, saying, +“You’ve got to stick it out now, Tom; you can’t drop out now; you’re all +right, old boy—lots of steam in your boiler—you’ll break a record yet.” +Irving caught some of the speeches. And so Westby was there when Price +crossed the line and collapsed in a heap on the track. + +It was not for long; they brought him to with water, and Westby knelt by +him fanning his face with the skirt of his dressing gown. Barclay picked +the boy up. “Oh, I’m all right, sir,” said Price, and he insisted on +being allowed to walk to the athletic house alone,—which he did rather +shakily. + +Westby flirted the cinders from the skirt of his dressing gown. “Blamed +little fool,” he remarked to Carroll and to Allison, who stood by. +“Wouldn’t his mother give me the dickens, though, for letting him do +that!” But Irving, who heard, knew there was a ring of pride in Westby’s +voice—as if Westby felt that his cousin was a credit to the family. And +Irving thought he was. + +The sports went on; not many of the runs were as exciting as that with +which the afternoon had opened. Irving passed back and forth across the +field, helped measure distances for the handicaps, and tried to be +useful. His interest had certainly been awakened. Twice in college he +had sat on the “bleachers” and viewed indifferently the track contests +between Yale and Harvard; he had had a patriotic desire to see his own +college win, but he had been indifferent to the performance of the +individuals. They had not been individuals to him—merely strange figures +performing in an arena. But here, where he knew the boys and walked +about among them, and saw the different manifestations of nervousness +and excitement, and watched the muscles in their slim legs and arms, he +became himself eager and sympathetic. He stood by when Scarborough went +on putting the shot after beating all the other competitors—went on +putting it in an attempt to break the School record. Unconsciously +Irving pressed forward to see him as he prepared for the third and last +try; unconsciously he stood with lips parted and eyes shining, +fascinated by the huge muscles that rose in Scarborough’s brown arm as +he poised the weight at his shoulder and heaved it tentatively. And when +it was announced that the effort had fallen short by only a few inches, +Irving’s sigh of disappointment went up with that of the boys. + +At intervals the races were run off—the two-twenty, the quarter-mile, +the half-mile, the high hurdles, the low hurdles. Irving started them +all without any mishap. The last one, the low hurdles for two hundred +and twenty yards, was exciting; the runners were all well matched and +the handicaps were small. And so, after firing the revolver, Irving +started and ran across the field as hard as he could, to be at the +finish; he arrived in time, and stood, still holding the revolver in his +hand, while Morrill and Flack and Mason raced side by side to the tape. +They finished in that order, not more than a yard apart; and Irving +rammed his revolver into his pocket and clapped his hands and cheered +with the Corinthians. + +The Pythians were now two points ahead, and there remained only one +event, the hundred yards. First place counted five points and second +place two; in these games third place did not count. So if a Corinthian +should win the hundred yards, the Corinthians would be victorious in the +meet by one point. + +There were eight entries in the hundred yards—a large number to run +without interfering with one another. But the track was wide, and two of +the boys had handicaps of ten yards, one had five yards, and one had +three. So they were spread out pretty well at the start, and +consequently the danger of interference was minimized. + +The runners threw off their dressing gowns and took their places. Drake, +Flack, Westby, and Mason lined up at scratch,—Westby having drawn the +inside place and being flanked by the two Pythians. There was a moment’s +pawing of the cinders, and settling down firmly on the spikes. + +“Ready, everybody!” cried Irving. He drew the revolver from his pocket +and held it aloft. He was as excited as any of the runners; there was +the nervous thrill in his voice. “On your marks!” They put their hands +to the ground; he ran his eyes along them to see that all were placed. +“Set!” There was the instant stiffening of muscles. Then from the +revolver came a click. Irving had emptied the six chambers in starting +the other races, and had forgotten to reload. + +“Just a moment, fellows; ease off!” he called, and they all straightened +up and faced towards him questioningly. “Just till I slip in a +cartridge,” Irving explained with embarrassment. + +Westby turned on him a delighted grin, and said,— + +“Can I be of any assistance, Mr. Upton?” + +“No, thank you,” said Irving, and having slipped in one cartridge, he +began filling the other chambers of the revolver. + +“It takes only one shot to start,” observed Westby. + +“Yes,” said Irving. “If I fire a second, it will be to call you back +because of a false start.—Now then,—all ready once more. On your marks!” +They crouched. “Set!” He fired. + +Somehow in the start Westby’s foot slipped, and in trying to get clear +he lunged against Flack. Irving saw it and instantly fired a second +shot, and shouted, “Come back, come back!” The runners heeded the signal +and the shout, but as they tiptoed up the track, they looked irritated. + +“Westby, you fouled Flack.” Irving spoke with some asperity. “I shall +have to set you back a yard.” + +“It was an accident,” Westby replied warmly. “My foot slipped. I +couldn’t help myself.” + +“But it was a foul,” declared Irving, “and I shall have to set you back +a yard.” + +“It was an accident, I tell you,” repeated Westby. + +“If it was an accident, you oughtn’t to set him back,” said Drake, his +fellow Corinthian. + +“It’s in the starter’s discretion,” spoke up Mason, the Pythian. + +“The penalty’s a yard,” affirmed Irving. + +Westby shut his lips tight and looked angrily contemptuous. Irving +measured the distance. “There,” he said, “you will start there.” + +Westby took the place behind the others without a word. + +“Ready now! On your marks!” + +The pistol cracked, and this time they all got away safely, and Irving +raced after them over the grass. + +From the crowd at the finish came the instant shout of names; out of the +short choppy cries two names especially emerged, “Flack! Flack! Flack!” +“Westby! Westby! Westby!” Those two were the favorites for the event. +Irving saw the scratch men forge ahead, and mingle with the handicap +runners; in the confusion of flying white figures he could not see who +were leading. But the tumult near the finish grew wild; arms and caps +were swung aloft, boys were leaping up and down; the red-haired Dennison +ran along the edge of the track, waving his arms; Morrill on the other +side did the same thing; the next moment the race had ended in a +tumultuous rush of shouting boys. + +[Illustration: AS TO WHO HAD WON, IRVING HAD NOT THE SLIGHTEST IDEA] + +As to who had won, Irving had not the slightest idea. He was hastening +up to find out—hoping that it had been Westby. And then out from the +crowd burst Westby and rushed towards him, panting, flushed, hot-eyed, +attended by Morrill and half a dozen other Corinthians. + +“I hope you’re satisfied with your spite-work,” said Westby. His voice +shook with passion, his eyes blazed; never before had Irving seen him +when he had so lost control of himself. “You lost me that race—by half a +yard! I hope you’re pleased with yourself!” + +He surveyed Irving scornfully, breathing hard, then turned his back and +strode off to the athletic house. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE WORM BEGINS TO TURN + + +After the charge which Westby had flung at him so furiously, Irving +looked in amazement to the other boys for an explanation. They were all +Corinthians, and he saw gloom and resentment in their faces. + +“I think it was pretty rough, Mr. Upton, to penalize him for an +unintentional foul,” said Morrill. “He’d have beaten Flack if they’d +started even.” + +“But it _was_ a foul,” protested Irving. “So I had to penalize him. I +made it as small a penalty as I could.” + +“You didn’t have to penalize him unless you wanted to,” said Morrill +grimly. “Of course you had a perfect right to do as you pleased, only—” +He shrugged his shoulders and walked away, followed by the other +Corinthians. + +Irving stood stricken. So this was the outcome; in seeking to be +sympathetic and to be understood, he had only caused himself somehow to +be more hated and despised. Bitterness rose within him, bitterness +against Westby, against Morrill, against boys in general, against the +school. And only an hour ago, from what he had seen and heard, he had +felt that he could like Westby, and had been not without some hope that +Westby might some time like him. + +He saw Barclay standing with Mr. Randolph by the table on which were the +prize cups; Barclay was bending over, arranging them, and the boys were +gathering on the opposite side of the track, being “policed back” by the +half-dozen members of the athletic committee. Evidently the award of +prizes was to be made at once, and either Barclay or Randolph was to +hand out the cups—perhaps also to make a speech. But Irving could not +wait; he must satisfy himself of his doubts and fears, and so he hurried +forward and touched Barclay on the shoulder. + +“Just a moment, please,” he said, as Barclay turned. “Did I do anything +wrong?” + +“You penalized Westby a yard for fouling, I heard; is that so?” + +“Yes.” + +“Well, you were within your rights. But if it was obviously an +unintentional foul, I shouldn’t have been so strict.” + +“I misunderstood what you told me,” sighed Irving. “I thought that in +case of foul a fellow _had_ to be penalized.” + +“Oh, no.” Barclay was busy; he had to think up something to say, by way +of a speech, and he turned and began fussing again with the cups. + +Irving walked away. Even his friend Barclay was not sympathetic, did not +understand the seriousness of what had happened. He could not stay +longer to be the target of hostile, vengeful eyes; he felt that half the +boys there were blaming him in their hearts for the defeat of their +team—and that the others had no gratitude to him for their victory. Not +that it would have made him feel any better if they had; he had only +wanted and tried to be fair. + +He walked away from the field, crossed the track, and passed round into +the avenue that led up to the School. When he had gone as far as the +bend where from behind the cluster of trees the School buildings became +visible, he heard the pleasant ripple of laughter from the crowd. Some +one, probably Barclay, was making a speech; to think of being able to +stand before boys and make them laugh like that! It seemed to Irving +that he had never before known what envy was. + +He spent a mournful hour in his room; then, hearing footsteps on the +stairs, he closed his door. The boys were returning from the field; he +felt sure there would be remarks about him by Westby and Morrill and +other Corinthians up and down the corridor, and he preferred not to hear +them. To his surprise there was rather less disturbance than usual; +perhaps the boys were too tired after their exciting and active +afternoon to indulge in noisy skylarking. So Irving did not have to +emerge from his solitude until the supper bell rang. Even then he +waited until all the boys had passed his door and were clattering down +the stairs. Yet as he descended, Westby’s indignant voice floated up to +him,— + +“Just because I guyed him—he felt he had to get even.” + +At supper Westby did not look at Irving. One of the boys, Blake, made a +comment; he said,— + +“That was a mighty good race you ran, Westby; hard luck you were +handicapped.” + +“You can call it hard luck if you want,” said Westby. + +“How did it happen, anyway?” Blake asked, quite innocently. + +“Oh, don’t ask _me_,” said Westby. + +Three or four of the boys who did know glanced slyly at Irving, and +Irving, though he had meant to say nothing, spoke up; there was +electricity in the air. + +“Westby was unfortunate enough to foul Flack at the start; that was all +there was to it,” he said. “I saw it and set him back a yard. I was +under the impression that in case of foul a penalty had to be +imposed—and I made the penalty as light as possible.” + +He felt that this statement ought to appease any reasonable boy. But +Westby was not in a reasonable mood. He paid no attention to Irving; he +addressed the table. + +“I told Scarborough he might have known things would be botched +somehow.” + +“Why?” asked Blake. + +“Oh, you’ve got to have officials who know their business.” + +There was an interval of silence at the table; Westby, having fired his +shot, sat straight, with cheeks flushed, looking across at Blake. + +“Westby feels that he has had provocation and therefore may be rude.” +Irving spoke at last with calmness. “It’s true that I never officiated +before at any races. At the same time, I don’t believe I did anything +which some experienced officials would not have done. There are probably +a good many who believe in penalizing a runner for clumsy and stupid +interference as well as for deliberate intent to foul.” + +He had spoken mildly; he did not even emphasize the words “clumsy and +stupid.” But the retort went home; the Pythians at the table,—of whom +Blake was one,—chuckled; and Westby, with a deeper shade of crimson on +his face and a sudden compression of his lips, lowered his eyes. + +Irving had triumphed, but after the first moment he felt surprisingly +little satisfaction in his triumph. He could not help being sorry for +Westby; the boy was after all right in feeling that he had been deprived +of a victory to which he had been entitled. And as Irving looked at his +downcast face, he softened still further; Westby had so often delighted +in humiliating him, and he had longed for the opportunity of reprisal. +Now it had come, and Westby was humiliated, and the audience were not +unsympathetic with Irving for the achievement; yet Irving felt already +the sting of remorse. Westby was only a boy, and he was a master; it was +not well for a master to mortify a boy in the presence of other boys—a +boy whose disappointment was already keen. + +The letters were distributed; there was one for Irving from his brother. +It contained news that made the world a different place from what it had +been an hour ago. Lawrence was playing left end on the Harvard Freshman +football eleven; not only that, but in the first game of the season, +played against a Boston preparatory school, he had made the only +touchdown. He added that that didn’t mean much, for he had got the ball +on a fluke; still, the tone of the letter was excited and elated. + +And it excited and elated Irving. He folded the letter and put it in his +pocket; he sat for a moment looking out of the window with dreamy eyes +and an unconscious smile. Lawrence was succeeding, was going to succeed, +in a way far different from his own—if his own college course could be +said in any sense to have terminated in success. Lawrence would have the +athletic and the social experience which he had never had; Lawrence +would be popular as he had never been; Lawrence would go brilliantly +through college as he had never done. Everything now was in Lawrence’s +reach, and he was a boy who would not be spoiled or led astray by the +achievement of temporary glories. + +In the vision of his brother’s triumphant career, Irving was transported +from the troubles and perplexities, from the self-reproaches and the +doubts which had been making him unhappy. He wanted now to share his +happiness, to take the boys into his confidence—but one can share one’s +happiness only with one’s friends. There was Westby, aggrieved and +hostile; there was Carroll, sitting next to him, the queer, quizzical, +silent youth, with whom Irving had been entirely unable to establish any +relation of intimacy; no, there were no boys at his table with whom he +was intimate enough to appeal for their interest and congratulations. +And feeling this, he shrank from communicating the news,—though he felt +sure that even Westby, who was going to Harvard the next year, might be +interested in it; he shrank from anything like boasting. He found an +outlet soon; Barclay came to see him that evening. + +“I looked for you this afternoon, after the giving out of the prizes,” +said Barclay. “But I couldn’t find you.” + +“No, I didn’t wait for that. Did you make a speech? I heard the boys +laughing and cheering as I came away.” + +“Oh, yes, I got off a few stale jokes and some heavy-footed persiflage. +It went well enough.—But I looked for you afterwards because I felt I +may have seemed rather short when you came up; the truth is, I was +racking my brain at that moment; Scarborough had just sprung the fact on +me that I must make the speech.” + +“Oh, it was all right,” said Irving. “I’m sorry to have bothered you at +such a time. I was just a little agitated because Westby was rather +angry over being penalized in the hundred—” + +“So I hear. Well, it was hard luck in a way—but after all you had a +perfect right to penalize him; he did foul, and he ought to be sport +enough to take the consequences.” + +“I suppose it wouldn’t have been—it wouldn’t be possible to run the race +over?” + +“Certainly not. Besides, Westby has no right to say that if he’d started +even with Flack, he’d have beaten him. It’s true that he gained half a +yard on Flack in the race; but it’s also true that Flack knew he had +that much leeway. There’s no telling how much more Flack might have done +if he’d had to. So if Westby says anything to me, I shall tell him just +that.” + +“I feel sorry about the thing anyway. I’m sorry I made a mess of it—as +usual.” + +“Oh, cheer up; it’s not going to do you any harm with the fellows. A +little momentary flash from Westby and Morrill—” + +“No, I wasn’t thinking of myself.” + +“You weren’t!” The bluntness of Barclay’s exclamation of astonishment +caused Irving to blush, and Barclay himself, realizing what he had +betrayed to Irving’s perception, looked embarrassed. But Irving +laughed. + +“I don’t wonder you’re surprised. I guess that’s been the worst trouble +with me here—thinking about myself. And that was what was troubling me +when I went to you this afternoon. But it isn’t any longer. I feel bad +about Westby. I can’t help thinking I did rob him of his race—and then I +sat on him at supper into the bargain.” + +Barclay shouted with laughter. “You sat on Westby—and you’re sorry for +it! What’s happened to you, anyway? Tell me about it.” + +Irving narrated the circumstances. “And I want to be friendly with him,” +he concluded. “Don’t you think I might explain that it was a blunder on +my part—and that I’m sorry I blundered?” + +“I wouldn’t,” said Barclay. “He’s beginning to respect you now. Don’t do +anything to make him think you’re a little soft. That’s what he wants to +think, and he’d construe any such move on your part unfavorably.” + +“Well, perhaps so.” Irving sighed. + +“You’re stiffening up quite a lot,” observed Barclay. + +“I was very wobbly when Westby and the other fellows went for me after +that race,” confessed Irving. “If I stiffened up, I guess it was just +the courage of desperation. And I don’t think that amounts to much. But +I’ve cheered up for good now.” + +“How’s that?” + +Somewhat shyly Irving communicated the proud news about his brother. + +“Oh, I read about him in to-day’s Boston newspaper,” exclaimed Barclay. + +“What?” asked Irving. “Where was it? I didn’t see it.” + +“You probably don’t read all the football news, as I do. But you will +after this.” Barclay laughed. “Yes, there was quite an account of that +game, and Upton was mentioned as being the bright particular star on the +Freshman team. It never occurred to me that he was your brother.” + +“Naturally not. I wish I could get away to see the game with the Yale +Freshmen; I’ve never seen Lawrence play. But I don’t suppose I could +manage that, could I?” + +Barclay looked doubtful. “The rector’s pretty strict with the masters as +well as with the boys. Especially when a man has charge of a dormitory. +I somehow think it wouldn’t be wise to try it,—your first term.” + +“I suppose not. Well, I shall certainly read the football columns from +now on.” + +“I wonder,” remarked Barclay, “if we couldn’t get the Harvard Freshmen +up here to play a practice game with our School eleven—say, the week +before the St. John’s game? It would be good practice for them as well +as for us; three or four years ago the Freshmen played here.” + +“Oh, I wish we could.” Irving’s face lighted up. “I’ll write to my +brother, and perhaps he can arrange it with the captain and manager.” + +“I’ll talk it over with Collingwood first,” said Barclay. “And then +we’ll proceed officially; and you can pull any additional wires that are +possible through your brother.” He rose to go. “I shouldn’t wonder,” he +added, “if that brother of yours turned out to be a useful asset for +you here.” + +“I should prefer to stand on my own legs,” said Irving. “I shan’t +advertise it round that I have a football brother.” + +“Oh, it won’t be necessary for you to do that; things have a way of +leaking out.” Barclay laughed as he took his departure. + +As it happened, the next day Louis Collingwood, the captain of the +School eleven, went to Barclay to consult him about the outlook for the +season. + +“It seems to me we’ll have a good School team,” said Collingwood, “but +no second eleven capable of giving them hard practice—the kind they’ll +need to beat St. John’s. If we could only arrange one or two games with +outside teams, to put us into shape—” + +“I was thinking of that,” said Barclay. “I wonder if we mightn’t get the +Harvard Freshmen up here. They have a good eleven, apparently.” + +“Yes, awfully good, from all that the papers say. Don’t you suppose +their schedule is filled up?” + +“It may be—but perhaps they could give us a date. Suppose you come over +to my house this evening and we’ll send a letter off to their captain. +And I’m sure”—Barclay threw the remark out in the most casual +manner—“Mr. Upton will be glad to approach them for us through his +brother.” + +“His brother? Who’s that?” + +“Why, didn’t you know? His brother plays left end on the team—” + +“Kiddy Upton’s brother on the Harvard Freshmen! No!” + +“Whose brother?” + +“Mr. Upton’s, I meant to say.” Louis grinned. “Is he really, Mr. +Barclay?” + +“I’m rather surprised you didn’t know it. But I guess Mr. Upton is the +kind that doesn’t talk much.” + +“I should think he’d have let that out.” + +“Well, he let it out to me. I suspect—though he hasn’t told me—that he’s +helping to put his brother through college. And his success in doing +that will naturally depend largely on his success or failure here as a +master.” + +“You mean—keeping his job?” + +Barclay nodded. “Yes. Oh, I don’t suppose there’s any real doubt about +that. He’s a perfectly competent teacher, isn’t he? You know; you have a +class with him.” + +“Ye-es,” said Louis, slowly. “The trouble has been, the fellows horse +him a good deal—though not quite so much as they did.” + +“They’ll get over that when they know him better,” remarked Barclay. + +He knew that Louis Collingwood went away feeling much impressed, and he +was pretty sure he had done Irving a good turn. + +It was in the noon half-hour, while Collingwood was holding this +interview with Mr. Barclay, that Westby, reading the Harvard news in his +Boston paper, went giggling into Morrill’s room. + +“There’s a fellow named Upton playing on the Freshmen.” He showed +Morrill the name. “Let’s get a crowd and go in to Kiddy; I’ll get him +rattled.” + +“How?” asked Morrill. + +“Oh, ask him if this fellow’s a relation of his, and say I supposed of +course he must be—such athletic prowess, and all that sort of thing; +with a crowd standing there giggling you know how rattled he’ll get.” + +“All right,” said Morrill, who was an earnest admirer of Westby’s wit. + +So they collected Dennison and Smythe and Allison and Carroll and +Scarborough, and marched up the corridor—humorously tramping in step—to +Irving’s door. There Westby, newspaper in hand, knocked. Irving opened +the door. + +“Mr. Upton, sir,” began Westby, “sorry to disturb you, sir.” The boys +all began to grin, and Irving saw that he was in for some carefully +planned attack. “I was just reading my morning paper, sir, and I wanted +to ask you what relation to you the man named Upton is that’s playing on +the Harvard Freshman eleven, sir.” + +Irving’s eyes twinkled; if ever the enemy had been delivered into his +hands! + +“What makes you think he’s a relation?” he asked, with an assumption of +cold dignity. + +“Oh, we all feel sure he must be, sir. Of course your well-known and +justly famous interest in all athletic sports, sir—not to say your +prowess in them, sir—it’s natural to suppose that any athlete named +Upton would belong to the same family with you, sir.” + +The boys were all on the broad grin; Westby’s manner was so expansively +courteous, his compliments were so absurdly urbane, that Irving threw +off his air of coldness and adopted a jaunty manner of reply which was +even more misleading. + +“Oh, well, if you’ve been so clever as to guess it, Westby,” he said, “I +don’t mind telling you—it’s my brother.” + +Westby bestowed on his confederates—quite indifferent as to whether +Irving detected it or not—his slow, facetious wink. He returned then to +his victim and in his most gamesome manner said,— + +“I supposed of course it was your brother, sir. Or at least I should +have supposed so, except that I didn’t know you had a brother at +Harvard. Wasn’t it rather—what shall I say?—_peu aimable_ not to have +taken us, your friends, into your confidence? Would you mind telling us, +sir, what your brother’s first name is?” + +“My brother’s first name? Lawrence.” + +“Hm!” said Westby, referring to his newspaper. “I find him set down here +as ‘T. Upton.’ But I suppose that is a misprint, of course.” + +“I suppose it must be,” agreed Irving. + +“Newspapers are always making mistakes, aren’t they?” said Westby. “Such +careless fellows! We’d like awfully to hear more about your brother +Lawrence, Mr. Upton.” + +The broad grin broke into a snicker. + +“Why, I don’t know just what there is to tell,” Irving said awkwardly. + +“What does he look like, sir? Does he resemble you very much?—I mean, +apart from the family fondness for athletics.” + +Irving’s lips twitched; Westby was enjoying so thoroughly his revenge! +And the other boys were all stifling their amusement. + +“We are said not to look very much alike,” he answered. “He is of a +somewhat heavier build.” + +“He must be somewhat lacking, then, in grace and agility, sir,” said +Westby; and the boys broke into a shout, and Irving gave way to a faint +smile. + +At that moment Collingwood came up the stairs. + +“Hello, Lou,” said Westby, with a welcoming wink. “We’re just +congratulating Mr. Upton on his brother; did you know that he has a +brother playing on the Harvard Freshmen?” + +“Yes,” said Collingwood. “I’ve just heard it from Mr. Barclay.” + +The boys stared at Collingwood, then at Irving, whose eyes were +twinkling again and whose smile had widened. Then they looked at Westby; +he was gazing at Collingwood unbelievingly,—stupefied. + +“What’s the matter with you?” asked Collingwood. + +And then Irving broke out into a delighted peal of laughter. He could +find nothing but slang in which to express himself, and through his +laughter he ejaculated,— + +“Stung, my young friend! Stung!” + +They all gave a whoop; they swung Westby round and rushed him down the +corridor to his room, shouting and jeering. + +When Irving went down to lunch, Carroll, the quizzical, silent Carroll, +welcomed him with a grin. Westby turned a bright pink and looked away. +At the next table Allison and Smythe and Scarborough were all looking +over at him and smiling; and at the table beyond that Collingwood and +Morrill and Dennison were craning their necks and exhibiting their joy. +Westby, the humorist, had suddenly become the butt, a position which he +had rarely occupied before. + +He was quite subdued through that meal. Once in the middle of it, Irving +looked at him and caught his eye, and on a sudden impulse leaned back +and laughed. Carroll joined in, Westby blushed once more, the Sixth +Formers at the next table looked over and began to laugh; the other boys +cast wondering glances. + +“What’s the joke, Mr. Upton?” asked Blake. + +“Oh, don’t ask _me_,” said Irving. “Ask Westby.” + +“What is it, Wes?” said Blake, and could not understand why he received +such a vicious kick under the table, or why Carroll said in such a +jeering way, “Yes, Wes, what _is_ the joke, anyhow?” + +When the meal was over, Westby’s friends lay in wait for him outside in +the hall, crowded round, and began patting him on the back and offering +him their jocular sympathy. To have the joke turned on the professional +humorist appeared to be extremely popular; and the humorist did not take +it very well. “Oh, get out, get out!” he was saying, wrenching himself +from the grasp of first one and then another. And Irving came out just +as he exclaimed in desperation, “Just the same, I’ll bet it’s all a +fake; I’ll bet he hasn’t got a brother!” + +He flung himself around, trying to escape from Collingwood’s clutch, +and saw Irving. The smile faded from Irving’s face; Westby looked at him +sullenly for a moment, then broke away and made a rush up the stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE HARVARD FRESHMAN + + +For two or three days the intercourse between Irving and Westby was of +the most formal sort. At table they held no communication with each +other; in the class-room Irving gave Westby every chance to recite and +conscientiously helped him through the recitation as much as he did any +one else; in the dormitory they exchanged a cold good-night. Irving did +not press Westby for a retraction of the charge which he had overheard +the boy make; it seemed to him unworthy to dignify it by taking such +notice of it. He knew that none of the boys really believed it and that +Westby himself did not believe it, but had been goaded into the +declaration in the desperate effort to maintain a false position. Irving +wondered if the boy would not have the fairness to make some +acknowledgment of the injustice into which his pride had provoked him. + +And one day at luncheon, Westby turned to Irving and with an embarrassed +smile said, + +“Mr. Upton, do you get any news from your brother about the Harvard +Freshman eleven?” + +Carroll directed at Westby the quizzical look under which Irving had so +often suffered. But Westby did not flinch; he waited for Irving’s +answer, with his embarrassed, appealing smile. + +“I had a letter from him this morning,” said Irving. “He writes that +there is a chance of their coming up here to play the School eleven; I +had asked him if that couldn’t be arranged.” + +“Oh, really!” exclaimed Westby, in a tone of honest interest. + +“When, Mr. Upton?” “Does he think they’ll come?” “Does Lou Collingwood +know about it?” + +“I guess he knows as much as I do.” Irving tried to answer the flood of +questions. “He wrote officially to the captain at the same time that I +wrote to Lawrence. If they come at all, it will be about a week before +the St. John’s game.” + +“When shall we know for sure?” asked Westby. + +“It appears to be a question whether the Freshmen will choose to play us +or Lakeview School. They want to play whichever team seems the stronger, +and they’re going to discuss the prospects and decide in a few days.” + +“I’m sure we’re better than Lakeview,” declared Blake. “You’ll tell your +brother we are, won’t you, Mr. Upton?” + +“I’ll tell him that I understand we have a very superior team,” said +Irving. “I fancy he knows that it’s as much as I can do to tell the +difference between a quarterback and a goal post.” + +“You will admit, then, that there was some reason for my not believing +you had a football brother, won’t you, Mr. Upton?” Westby tried thus to +beat a not wholly inglorious retreat. + +“Every reason—until it became a matter of doubting my word,” said +Irving. + +Westby crimsoned, and Irving felt that again he had been too severe with +him; the boy had been trying to convey an apology, without actually +making one; it might have been well to let him off. + +But Irving reflected that the account was still far from even and that +perhaps this unwonted adversity might be good for Westby. Irving did not +realize quite how much teasing had been visited upon Westby in +consequence of his disastrous error, or how humiliated the boy had been +in his heart. For Westby was proud and vain and sensitive, accustomed to +leadership, unused to ridicule; for two days now the shafts of those +whom he had been in the habit of chaffing with impunity had been +rankling. Because of this sensitive condition, the final rebuke at the +luncheon table, before all the boys, cut him more deeply than Irving +suspected. Afterwards Westby said to Carroll,— + +“Oh, very well. If he couldn’t accept my acknowledgment of my mistake, +but had to jump on me again—well, it’s just spite on his part; that’s +all. I don’t care; I can let him alone after this. That seems to be what +he wants.” + +“A month ago he wouldn’t have asked more than that of you,” observed +Carroll. “And you didn’t feel like obliging him then.” + +The implication that Irving had worsted him galled Westby. + +“Oh,” he retorted, “the best of jokes will wear out. Kiddy was a +perfectly good joke for a while—” + +Carroll annoyed him by laughing. + +For one who had hitherto been indifferent to all forms of athletics, +Irving developed a surprising interest in the game of football. Every +afternoon he went to the field and watched the practice of the Pythian +and Corinthian elevens. He had once thought the forward pass a detail +incapable of engaging one’s serious attention, and worthy of rebuke if +attempted in dormitory; but after Lawrence wrote that in executing it he +was acquiring some proficiency, Irving studied it with a more curious +eye. + +He wondered if Lawrence was as skillful at it as Collingwood, for +instance; Collingwood had now learned to shoot the ball with accuracy +twenty or twenty-five yards. Occasionally Irving got hold of a football +and tested his own capacity in throwing it; his attempts convinced him +that in this matter he had a great deal to learn. Looking back, he could +comprehend Louis Collingwood’s indignation and amazement at a master who +would coldly turn away when a boy was trying to illustrate for him the +forward pass. + +One afternoon from watching the football practice Irving moved aside for +a little while to see the finish of the autumn clay-pigeon shoot of the +Gun Club. + +There were only six contestants, and there were not many spectators; +most of the boys preferred to stay on the football field, where there +was more action; the second Pythians and second Corinthians were playing +a match. But Irving had heard Westby talking at luncheon about the +shoot and strolled over more from curiosity to see how he would acquit +himself than for any other reason. + +The trap was set in the long grass on the edge of the meadow near the +woods; Allison was performing the unexciting task of pulling the string +and releasing the skimming disks. When Irving came up, Smythe was +finishing; he did not appear to be much of a shot, for he missed three +out of the seven “birds” which Irving saw him try for. + +Then it was Westby’s turn. Westby had got himself up for the occasion, +in a Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers and leggings; he was always +scrupulous about appearing in costumes that were extravagantly correct. +He saw Irving and somewhat ostentatiously turned away. + +Irving waited and looked on. Westby stood in an almost negligent +attitude, with his gun lowered; the trap was sprung, the clay pigeon +flew—and then was shattered in the midst of its flight. It seemed to +Irving that Westby hardly brought his gun to his shoulder to take aim. +It could not all be luck either; that was evident when Westby demolished +ten clay pigeons in rapid succession. It was Carroll’s turn now; Westby, +having made his perfect score, blew the smoke from the breech and stood +by. + +Irving went up to him. + +“I congratulate you on your shooting, Westby,” he said. “It seems quite +wonderful to a man who never fired a gun off but a few times in his +life—and then it was a revolver, with blank cartridges.” + +Westby looked at him coolly. “It’s funny you’ve never done anything that +most fellows do,” he observed. “Were you always afraid of hurting +yourself?” + +“I was offering my congratulations, Westby,” said Irving stiffly, and +walked away. + +“Why did you go at him like that?” asked Carroll, who had heard the +interchange. + +“Oh,” said Westby, “I wasn’t going to have him hanging round swiping to +me, soft-soaping me.” + +“I think he was only trying to be decent,” said Carroll. + +“I like a man who is decent without trying,” Westby retorted. + +Yet whether his nerves were a little upset by the episode or his eye +thrown off by the wait, Westby did not do so well in the next round. The +trap was set to send the birds skimming lower and faster; Westby missed +two out of ten, and was tied for first place with Carroll. And in the +final shoot to break the tie, Westby lost. + +He shook hands with Carroll, but with no excess of good humor. He knew +he was really the better shot, and even though Carroll was his closest +friend, the defeat rankled. + +At supper Blake congratulated Carroll across the table. + +“You won, did you, Carroll?” asked Irving. + +“Yes, sir—by a close shave.” + +“I’m sorry I didn’t stay to see it.” The remark was innocent in +intention, but to Westby it seemed edged with malice—as if the master +was exulting over his defeat. + +Something in Westby’s expression told Irving what the boy had inferred; +Irving went afterwards to his room in a despondent mood. It didn’t +matter how hard he tried or what he did; he had not the faculty of +winning and holding affection and respect. As it was with boys, so it +would be with men. If only he could see how and why he failed, and could +learn to correct his mistakes! + +He felt of more importance in the School world when a letter from +Lawrence was the first announcement that the Freshman eleven would come +to play St. Timothy’s. He asked Collingwood if he had had any word, and +when Collingwood said no, he told him his brother’s message. + +“I don’t believe there can be any mistake,” said Irving. “He writes that +it was decided only the night before. You’ll probably receive the +official communication in a day or two.” + +Collingwood was tremendously elated. “I knew we were better than +Lakeview—but I was afraid they wouldn’t realize it,” he said. “Now +we’ll have to get ready and beat them. Anyway, if we can’t do that, it +will be the best kind of preparation for the St. John’s game.” + +The official communication arrived; Collingwood rushed with it to the +bulletin board in the Study building and posted it for all eyes to see. +The same day he posted the School eleven, as it would line up in that +game. + +Westby was to be first substitute for Dennison at right half back. +Westby had been playing a streaky game on the First Corinthians; on some +days he was as brilliant a runner and tackler as there was in the +School, and on other days he would lose interest and miss everything. + +If he was disappointed at the preference given to Dennison, he did not +show it; in fact, that he appeared on the list as substitute seemed to +fill him with elation. He had never taken football quite so seriously as +some of the others—as Collingwood and Dennison, for example; and +therefore only a moderate success in it was for him a matter of +gratification. + +The training table was organized at once, but Westby was not admitted to +it. There was not room for the substitutes; they were expected to do +their own training. Westby was notoriously lax in that matter and had to +be nagged constantly by Collingwood, whom he found some pleasure in +teasing. + +He would secure some forbidden article of food and ostentatiously appear +to be eating it with the greatest enjoyment until he caught +Collingwood’s eye; a large circular doughnut or a chocolate éclair +delicately poised between his thumb and finger were his favorite +instruments for torturing his captain’s peace of mind. He would contrive +to be seen just as he was on the point of taking the first bite; then he +would reluctantly lay the tidbit down. + +“It’s a hard life, this being a near athlete,” he grumbled. “Sitting at +a table with a lot of uncongenial pups like you fellows.—Mr. Upton, +Blake’s kicking me; make him quit, sir.—Not allowed to eat half the +things the rest of you do, and not allowed either to get any of the +training-table grub. Well, I never did think of self, so I can endure it +better than most.” + +The others jeered. But Westby, however he might complain, was faithful +at practice and accepted good-naturedly his position upon the second +eleven, and the hard battering to which every one on the second eleven +was subjected. + +The day when he got round Morrill, the first eleven’s left end, and +scored a touchdown—the only one which in that week of practice the +second eleven scored—brought him so much applause that he began really +to think there might be a chance of his ousting Dennison from the +regular position. When that notion entered his head he ceased to be +facetious about the training; he became suddenly as serious as +Collingwood himself. But in spite of that, he remained Dennison’s +substitute. + +The Saturday set for the game with the Harvard Freshmen was an Indian +Summer day. In the early morning mist wreathed the low meadows and the +edges of the pond; it seemed later to dissipate itself through all the +windless air in haze. The distant hills were blue and faint, the elms in +the soft sunlight that filtered down had a more golden glow. + +“Great day,” was the salutation that one heard everywhere; “great day +for the game.” + +Now and then in his morning classes Irving’s thoughts would wander, +there would be a gentle rush of excitement in his veins. He would turn +his mind firmly back to his work; he did not do any less well that day +because his heart was singing happily. + +In three hours more—in two—in one—he was going to see Lawrence again; he +wondered if he would find his brother much changed. Only two months had +passed since they had parted; yet in that time how remote Lawrence had +grown in Irving’s eyes from the Lawrence of the Ohio farm! + +The bell announcing the noon recess rang; Irving dismissed his last +class. He hurried down the stairs almost as madly as the Fourth Formers +themselves; the train on which the Harvard Freshmen were coming was due +ten minutes before; already Lawrence and the others must have started on +the two-mile drive out to the School. + +In front of the Study building most of the older boys and many of the +younger were congregated, awaiting the arrival of the visitors. Irving +walked about among the groups impatiently, now and then looking at his +watch. He passed Westby and Collingwood, who were standing together by +the gate. + +“Pretty nearly time for them, Mr. Upton,” said Westby. “Feeling nervous, +sir?” + +There was more good nature in his smile than he had displayed towards +Irving since the day of the track games. + +“A little,” Irving admitted, and at that moment some one shouted, “Here +they come!” + +Over the crest of the hill galloped four horses, drawing a long red +barge crowded with boys. Collingwood climbed up on the gate-post. + +“Now, fellows,” he said, “when they get here, give three times three for +the Freshmen.” + +The boys waited in silence. Irving strained his eyes, trying to +distinguish the figures huddled together in the barge. The horses came +down at a run, with a rattle of hoofs and harness; the driver +flourished his whip over them spectacularly. + +“Now then, fellows!” cried Collingwood. “Three times three for the +Freshmen!” + +And amidst the waving of caps as the cheers were given, Irving could see +no one in the barge. Then when that cheer had subsided, one of the +visitors stood up and took off his hat and shouted,— + +“Three times three for St. Timothy’s! One—two—three!” The fellows in the +barge sent up a vigorous, snappy cheer, and then overflowed at back and +sides. In the confusion and the crowd, Irving was still straining his +short-sighted eyes in a vain attempt to discover Lawrence. + +Suddenly he heard a shout,—“Hello, Irv!”—and there, a little way off, +was Lawrence, laughing at him and struggling towards him through the +throng. The boys understood and drew apart and let the two brothers +meet. + +“It’s great to see you again, Irv,” said Lawrence, when he could reach +and grasp his brother’s hand; he looked at Irving with the same old +loving humor in his eyes. + +“It’s great to see you again, Lawrence,” said Irving. He could not help +being a little conscious and constrained, with so many eyes upon him. + +He tucked one hand in his brother’s arm and with the other reached for +Lawrence’s bag. Lawrence laughed, and with hardly an effort detached it +from Irving’s grasp. + +“_You_ carry that, you little fellow! I guess not,” he said. + +Some of the boys heard and smiled, and Lawrence threw back at them a +humorous smile; Irving blushed. He led Lawrence away, towards the Upper +School. The other Freshmen were being conducted in the same direction by +Collingwood and his team. + +“Well,” said Westby to Carroll in an outpouring of slang from the +heart, “Kiddy’s brother is certainly a peach of a good looker. I hope +he’ll bring him to lunch.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +WESTBY IN THE GAME + + +It was with satisfaction that Westby and Carroll saw Lawrence entering +the dining-room with Irving. They had observed the long table spread in +the common room of the Upper School, where the visiting team were to be +entertained at luncheon, and had supposed therefore that they would have +no chance of satisfying their curiosity about the master’s brother. + +When Irving introduced Lawrence to them, Westby said,— + +“We hoped we were going to see you here, but we were afraid you might +have to eat outside with your team.” + +“Oh, I got special permission from the captain for this occasion,” said +Lawrence. “I’m afraid I’m depriving somebody of his seat,” he added to +Irving. + +“It’s Caldwell—I arranged with him about it. He’s gone to Mr. Randolph’s +table.” + +“Besides, he’s only a Fourth Former,” said Westby. + +Lawrence laughed. “You’re Sixth, I suppose?” Westby nodded. “Going to +Harvard next year?” + +“Yes.” + +“Good for you. I’ll tell you one thing; you couldn’t have a better man +to get you in than this brother of mine—if I do say it. He tutored me +for Harvard—and I guess you’ve never had a worse blockhead, have you, +Irv?” + +“Oh, you were all right in some things, Lawrence.” + +“I’d like to know what. How I used to try your patience, though!” +Lawrence chuckled, then turned and addressed the boys, especially Westby +and Carroll, as they were the oldest. “Did any of you ever see him mad?” + +“Oh, surely never that,” said Westby urbanely. “Irritated perhaps, but +not mad—never lacking in self-control.” + +Westby, thinking himself safe, ventured upon his humorous wink to Blake +and the others who were grinning; Lawrence intercepted it and at once +fixed Westby with a penetrating gaze. + +Westby colored and looked down; Lawrence held his eyes on him until +Westby looked up and then, in even greater embarrassment under this +prolonged scrutiny, down again. Then Lawrence turned to his brother. + +“Tell me, Irv,” he said in a tone that simply brushed aside as +non-existent everybody else at the table—just as if he and his brother +were talking together alone, “what sort of kids do you have to look +after in your dormitory, anyhow?” + +Irving’s lip twitched with amusement; Westby, still scarlet, was looking +at his plate. “Oh, a pretty good sort—but they’re Sixth Formers, you +know—not kids.” + +“Pretty fresh, are they—trying to show off a good deal and be funny?” + +“Oh, one or two only; still, even they aren’t bad.” + +Lawrence paid no further attention to Westby. Now and then he spoke to +Carroll and to Blake, but most of his conversation—and it dealt with the +sort of college life about which boys liked to hear, and about which +Irving had never been able to enlighten them—he addressed directly to +his brother. + +Westby listened to it gloomily; there were many questions that he wanted +to ask, but now he did not dare. Evidently Mr. Upton had warned his +brother against him, had imparted to his brother his own dislike; that +was why Lawrence had nipped so brutally his harmless, humorous allusion +to the master’s temper. + +As a matter of fact, Lawrence had had no previous knowledge whatever of +Westby; Irving had always withstood his impulse to confide his troubles. +He made now an effort to draw Westby forward and reinstate him in the +conversation; he said,— + +“Lawrence, you and Westby here may come against each other this +afternoon; Westby’s first substitute for one of the half-backs on the +School eleven.” + +Lawrence said, “That’s good,” and gave Westby hardly a glance. + +After luncheon, walking down to the athletic field with Westby, Carroll +said jeeringly,— + +“Well, Kiddy Upton’s brother is no myth, is he, Wes?” + +At that Westby began to splutter. “Conceited chump! He makes me tired. +Of all the fresh things—to sit up there and talk about the ‘kids’ in +Kiddy’s dormitory!” + +Carroll laughed in his silent, irritating way. “He certainly put you +down and out—a good hard one. Why, even Kiddy was sorry for you.” + +Westby went on fuming. “Sorry for me! I guess Kiddy had been whining to +him about how I’d worried him. That’s why the chump had it in for me.” + +“Chump, Wes! Such a peach of a good looker?” + +“Oh, shut up. I don’t care if he is good looking; he’s fresher than +paint.” + +“He would think that was a queer criticism for you to make.” + +Westby stalked on in angry silence. He was more wounded than he could +let Carroll know. There was a side to him which he shrank from +displaying,—the gentle, affectionate side of which Irving had had a +glimpse when the boy was anxiously watching his young cousin Price in +the mile run; and to this quality Lawrence’s greeting of his brother had +unconsciously appealed. Westby had stood by and heard his words, “_You_ +carry that, you little fellow!” had seen the humor in his eyes and the +gentleness on his lips, and had felt something in his own throat. + +For all his affectation of worldliness and cynicism, the boy was a +hero-worshiper at heart, and could never resist being attracted by a +fine face and a handsome pair of eyes and a pleasant voice; Lawrence had +in the first glance awakened an enthusiasm which was eager for near +acquaintance. And now, although he talked so venomously against him, it +was not Lawrence whom he reproached in his heart; it was himself. + +Why had he been unable to resist the impulse to be smart, to be funny, +to be cheap? He might have known that a fellow like Lawrence would see +through his remark and would resent it; he might have known that his +silly, clownish wink could not escape Lawrence’s keen eyes. + +So Westby walked on, gloomily reproaching himself, unconscious that at +that very moment, walking a hundred yards behind, Irving was defending +him. + +“A month ago, Lawrence, I’d have been glad to have you light on Westby +as you did,” he said. “But now I’m rather sorry.” + +“Why so?” + +“Oh, he’s had some hard luck lately, and—well, I don’t know. Those +encounters with a boy don’t seem to me worth while.” + +“You’ve got to suppress them when they’re fresh like that,” insisted +Lawrence. “For a fellow to talk to you in that fresh way before a +guest—and that guest your brother—I don’t stand for it; that’s all.” + +“No, I don’t either. Well, it doesn’t matter much; reproof slides off +Westby like water off a duck’s back.” + +They talked of other things then until Lawrence had to join his team and +enter the athletic house with them to dress. + +Out on the field Irving mingled with the crowd, walked to and fro +nervously, stopped to say only a word now to a boy, now to a master, and +then passed on. It was foolish for him to be so excited, so tremulous, +he told himself. Lawrence had parted from him with the same calmness +with which he might have gone to prepare for bed. It was all the more +foolish to be so excited, because the accessories to promote a +preliminary excitement were lacking,—rivalry, partisanship; the visiting +team had no supporters. + +The School had turned out to see the game, but there was no cheering, no +thrill of expectation; the boys stood about and waited quietly, as they +would before ordinary practice. It would be different in another week, +when the St. John’s team were sharing the athletic house with St. +Timothy’s, and the adherents of the two schools were ranged opposite +each other, waving flags and hurling back and forth challenging +cheers—cheers meant to inspirit the players while they dressed. But now +Irving was aware that he in all the crowd was the only one whose nerves +and muscles were quivering, whose voice might not be quite natural or +quite under his control, whose heart was beating hard. + +If Lawrence should not play well this time—the first time he had ever +seen him play! Or if anything should happen to him! Irving tramped back +and forth, digging cold hands into his pockets. + +The Harvard team was the first to leave the athletic house; they broke +through the line of spectators near where Irving stood and trotted out +on the field. As they passed, he caught his brother’s eye and waved to +him. In the preliminary practice Irving watched him eagerly; with his +light curly hair he was conspicuous, and as he was on the end of the +line his movements were easy to follow. It seemed to Irving that he was +the quickest and the readiest and the handsomest of them all. + +Out came St. Timothy’s, and then there was a cheer. The two teams went +rollicking and tumbling up and down the field for a few moments; then +Collingwood and the Harvard captain met in the centre, Mr. Barclay +tossed a coin, and the players went to their positions. Mr. Barclay blew +a whistle; the game began. + +From that time on Irving trotted up and down the side lines, his heart +twittering with pride and anxiety. After every scrimmage, after every +tackle, he looked apprehensively for a curly light head; he was always +glad when he saw it bob up safely out of a pile. Through all the press +and conflict, he watched for it, followed it—just as, he thought in one +whimsical moment, the French troopers of Macaulay’s poem watched for the +white plume of Navarre. + +If he had known even less about the game than he did, he must still have +seen that for Harvard his brother and Ballard, the fullback, were +playing especially well. Ballard, with his hard plunges through the +centre and his long punts, was the chief factor in Harvard’s offensive +game; Lawrence was their ablest player on the defense. + +After the first ten minutes St. Timothy’s made hardly an attempt to go +round his end, but devoted their assaults to the centre and other wing +of the line. + +If there was one thing for which Collingwood, the best football player +in the School, had achieved a special reputation, it was the fleetness +and dexterity with which he could run the ball back after punts. He was +known as the best man in the back field that St. Timothy’s had had in +years. So when Ballard prepared for his first kick, the spectators +looked on with composure. + +It was a fine kick; the ball went spiraling high and far, but +Collingwood was under it as it fell, and Dennison was in front of him to +protect him. + +Yet Lawrence, rushing down upon them, was too quick, too clever; +Dennison’s attempt to block him off was only a glancing one that +staggered him for the fraction of an instant; and the ball had no sooner +struck in Collingwood’s arms than Lawrence launched himself and hurled +the runner backwards. + +“Whew! What a fierce tackle!” ejaculated a boy near Irving admiringly. + +“I think Lou did well to hang on the ball,” responded his friend. + +Irving heard; he went about greedily drinking in comments which that +tackle had evoked. He found himself standing behind Westby and the other +substitutes, who, wrapped in blankets, trailed up and down the field +keeping pace with the progress of their team. + +“No!” Briggs, one of the substitutes, was saying. “Was that Kiddy +Upton’s brother? He’s a whirlwind, isn’t he?” + +“Looked to me as if he was trying to lay Lou Collingwood out,” returned +Westby sourly. + +At once Irving’s cheeks flamed hot. He put out his hand and touched +Westby’s shoulder; the boy turned, and then the blood rushed into his +cheeks too. + +“Was there anything wrong about that tackle, Westby?” Irving asked. + +“It just seemed to me he threw him pretty hard.” + +Irving spoke to the three or four other substitutes standing by. + +“I don’t know much about football; was there anything wrong with that +tackle—that it should be criticised?” + +“It looked all right to me,” said Briggs. + +“If there is any question about it, I shall want to talk to my brother—” + +“Oh, it was all right,” Windom spoke up. “It was a good, clean, hard +tackle—the right kind. Wes is always down on the enemy, aren’t you, +Wes?” + +Westby stood in sullen silence. The next play was started; St. Timothy’s +gained five yards, and in the movement of the crowd Irving and Westby +were separated. + +For a few moments Irving’s thoughts were diverted from his brother, and +his joyous excitement was overshadowed by regret. He felt less indignant +with Westby than sorry for him; he knew that the boy had repented of his +hasty and intemperate words. If he would only come up and acknowledge +it—so that he might be forgiven! + +Then Irving put Westby out of his mind. St. Timothy’s had kicked; +Ballard had recovered the ball for Harvard on St. Timothy’s forty-yard +line, and then Warren, the quarterback, had made a long pass straight +into Lawrence’s hands; Lawrence started to run; then, just as Chase and +Baldersnaith were bearing down for the tackle, he stopped and hurled the +ball forward and across to Newell, the other Harvard end. + +It sailed clear over the heads of the intervening players; Newell had +been signaled to, had got down the field and was ready for it; three St. +Timothy’s players ran to get under the ball, but instead of blocking +Newell off and merely trying to spoil his catch, they all tried to make +the catch themselves; they all leaped for it. Newell was the quickest; +he grabbed the ball out of the air and went down instantly, with the +three others on him—but he was on St. Timothy’s ten-yard line. + +It was a brilliant pass and a brilliant catch; St. Timothy’s stood +looking on disconsolate, while the Harvard players gathered exultantly +for the line-up. Three rushes through tackle and centre and one run +round Lawrence’s end carried the ball across St. Timothy’s line for a +touchdown. Ballard kicked the goal. + +There was no more scoring that half. In the second half St. Timothy’s +kicked off; Harvard got the ball and set about rushing it back up the +field. They had gained ten yards and had carried the ball forty yards +from their own goal, when they lost possession of it on a fumble. The +spectators cheered, and began shouting,— + +“Touchdown, St. Timothy’s, touchdown!” + +There was more shouting when, with Collingwood interfering for him, +Dennison broke through the Harvard left tackle and made fifteen yards. +Then Collingwood made a quarter-back kick which Morrill captured on the +Harvard five-yard line. + +The St. Timothy’s cheering broke out afresh, Scarborough leading it. +Irving joined in the cheer; he was glad to see Collingwood and the +others making gains—provided they did not make them round Lawrence’s +end. + +On the five-yard line the Harvard defense stiffened. On the third down +the ball was two yards from the goal line. + +“Everybody get into this next play—everybody!” cried Collingwood +appealingly; he went about slapping his men on the back. “Now +then—twelve, thirty-seven, eighteen.” + +There was a surge forward, a quivering, toppling mass that finally fell +indecisively. No one knew whether the ball had been pushed across or +not. No one wanted to get up for fear it might be pushed one way or the +other in the shifting. + +Barclay and Randolph, who was umpire, began summarily dragging the +players from the pile, hauling at an arm or a leg; at last Dennison was +revealed at the bottom hugging the ball—and it was just across the line. + +Then all the St. Timothy’s players capered about for joy, and the +spectators shouted as triumphantly as if it had been the St. John’s +game; the Harvard team ranged themselves quietly under the goal. +Dennison kicked the goal, and the score was tied. + +For the next ten minutes neither team succeeded in making much progress. +St. Timothy’s were playing more aggressively than in the first half; +twice Kenyon, the Harvard halfback, started to skirt round Lawrence’s +end, but both times Baldersnaith, the St. Timothy’s tackle, broke +through and dragged him down. Baldersnaith, Dennison, Morrill, and +Collingwood were especially distinguishing themselves for the School. + +At last, after one of the scrimmages, Dennison got up, hobbled a moment, +and then sat down again. Collingwood hurried over to him anxiously. + +“Wrenched my ankle,” said Dennison. “I guess I’ll be all right in a +moment.” + +Waring, the Fifth Former, who acted as water-carrier, ran out on the +field with his pail and sponge. Mr. Barclay examined the ankle, then +turned to Collingwood. + +“I think he could go on playing,” he said. “But if I were you I’d take +him out now and save him for the St. John’s game. You don’t want to risk +his being laid up for that.” + +Dennison protested, but Collingwood agreed with Mr. Barclay. He turned +and called, “Westby”; and as Westby ran out, Dennison picked himself up +and limped to the side-line. + +It was Harvard’s ball in the middle of the field. Though it was only the +first down, Ballard dropped back to kick. + +“Now then, Wes, hang on to it,” Collingwood cried as he and Westby +turned and ran to their places in the back field. + +Westby had a faint hope that the kick might go to Collingwood; he didn’t +feel quite ready yet to catch the ball; he wanted to be given a chance +to steady down first. But he knew that was exactly what the Harvard +quarterback intended to prevent. + +The ball came sailing, high and twisting; he had to run back to get +under it. Then he planted himself, but the ball as it came down was +slanted off by the wind, so that he had at the last to make a sudden +dash for it; it struck and stuck, hugged to his breast, and then over +he went with a terrific shock, which jarred the ball from his grasp. + +Irving had seen the play with mingled joy and sorrow. It was his brother +who had made the tackle; it was Newell, the other Harvard end, who had +dropped on the fumbled ball. + +Westby and Lawrence got to their feet together; Lawrence’s eyes were +dancing with triumphant expectation; the ball was Harvard’s now on St. +Timothy’s twenty-yard line. And Westby went dully to his position, aware +of the accusing silence of the crowd. + +“All right, Wes; we’ll stop them,” Collingwood said to him cheerfully. + +Westby did his best and flung himself desperately into the thick of +every scrimmage. The whole team did its best, but Harvard would not be +denied. By short rushes they fought their way down, down, and at last +across the goal line—and the game was won. There were only three minutes +left to play, and in that time neither side scored. + +When Mr. Barclay blew his whistle, the Harvard team assembled and +cheered St. Timothy’s, and then St. Timothy’s assembled and cheered +Harvard. After that the players walked to the athletic house, beset on +the way by the curious or by friends. + +Westby was the victim of condolences, well meant but ill-timed; he +responded curtly when Blake, pushing near, said to him, “It was awfully +hard luck, Wes—but after that you played a mighty good game.” He wished +nothing but to be let alone, he wished no sympathy. He knew that he had +lost the game; that was enough for him. + +In the dressing-room he sat on a bench next to Lawrence Upton and began +putting on his clothes in silence. The other boys were talking all round +him, commenting cheerfully on the plays and on the future prospects of +the teams. + +Lawrence refrained from discussing the game at all; he asked Westby what +St. Timothy’s boys he knew at Harvard, and where he expected to room +when he went there; he tried to be friendly. But Westby repelled his +efforts, answering in a sullen voice. At last Lawrence finished +dressing; he picked up his bag and turned to Westby. + +“Look here,” he said, and there was a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m going to +be at Harvard the next three years; we’re likely to meet. Must a little +hard luck make hard feeling?” + +“Oh, there’s no hard feeling,” Westby assured him. + +“Glad to hear it. Good-by.” Lawrence held out his hand. + +“You’re not going to stay for supper?” + +“No. I’m going back with the team on the six o’clock train—hour exam on +Monday. My brother’s waiting for me outside; I want to see him for a +while before we start. I hope to come up here some time again—hope I’ll +see you.” + +“Thanks. I hope so. Good-by.” + +The words were all right, but Westby spoke them mechanically. It had +flashed upon him that Lawrence would now learn from his brother the +charge that he had so unjustly and hotly made. And of a sudden he wished +he could prevent that. He would have been glad to go to Irving and +retract it all and apologize; anything to keep Lawrence from hearing of +it. + +Why had he been so slow in dressing—why hadn’t he hurried on his clothes +and gone out ahead of Lawrence and made it all right with Irving! + +With a wild thought that it might not yet be too late, he flung on his +coat and rushed from the building—only to see Irving and Lawrence +walking together across the football field. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MASTER AND BOY + + +For several days Westby’s unnatural quiet was attributed to his +sensitiveness over the error which had given the Harvard Freshmen their +victory. It was most noticeable at Irving’s table; there his bubbling +spirits seemed permanently to have subsided; he wrapped himself in +silence and gloom. His manner towards Irving was that of haughty +displeasure. Carroll was at a loss to understand it and questioned him +about it one day. + +“Oh, I’m just tired of him—tired of hearing his everlasting brag about +his brother,” Westby said sharply. + +“He bragged so little about him once you wouldn’t believe he had a +brother,” replied Carroll. “I don’t see that he brags much more about +him now.” + +“Well, I see it, and it annoys me,” retorted Westby rudely. “I think +I’ll see if I can have my seat changed. I’d rather sit at Scabby’s +table.” + +Mr. Randolph, however, the head of the Upper School, refused to grant +Westby’s petition. + +“You don’t give any special reason,” he said. “You have friends at Mr. +Upton’s table; you ought to be contented to stay there. What’s the +matter? Are you having friction with some one?” + +“I should be better satisfied if I were at Scarborough’s table,” said +Westby. + +“We can’t gratify every individual preference or whim,” replied Mr. +Randolph. + +He asked Irving if he knew of any reason why Westby should be +transferred and told him that the boy had asked for the change. + +“Oh, it’s just between him and me,” said Irving wearily. “We don’t get +on.” + +“Then you’d like to have him go, too?” + +“No, I wouldn’t. When he’s his natural self, I like him. And I haven’t +yet given up the hope that some time we’ll get together.” + +He met Westby’s coldness with coolness. But on the morning of the St. +John’s game, after breakfast, he drew Westby aside. He held a letter in +his hand. + +“Westby,” he said, “I don’t know that you will care to hear it, but I +have a message for you from my brother.” + +Westby cast down his eyes and reddened. “I don’t suppose I shall care to +hear it,” he said with a humility that amazed Irving. “But go ahead—give +it to me, Mr. Upton.” + +“I don’t quite understand—he just asked me to say to you that he hopes +you’ll get your chance in the game to-day. He felt you were rather cut +up by your hard luck in the Freshman game.” + +“Didn’t he—isn’t he—” Westby hesitated for an uncomfortable moment, then +blurted out, “Isn’t he sore at me, Mr. Upton?” + +“What for?” + +“For saying about him what I did—about his trying to lay Collingwood out +when he tackled.” + +“He doesn’t know you said it.” + +“Oh! Didn’t you tell him?” + +“No. The criticism was unjust—there was no use in repeating it.” + +“It was unjust.” Westby had lowered his voice. “I am very much ashamed, +Mr. Upton.” + +“That’s all right,” said Irving. He took Westby’s hand. “I hope too +you’ll get your chance in the game.” + +“Thank you.” Westby spoke humbly. “I hope if I do, I won’t make a mess +of it again.” + +That game was far different in color and feeling from the one with the +Freshmen on the Saturday before. Long before it began the boys of St. +John’s with their blue banners and flags and the boys of St. Timothy’s +with their red were ranged on opposite sides of the field, hurling +defiant, challenging cheers across at one another; for St. Timothy’s a +band, in which Scarborough beat the drum and was director, paraded back +and forth; the little boys were already hopping up and down and +trembling and squealing with excitement; already their little voices +were almost gone. + +Irving knew that to himself alone was this occasion one of less moving +interest than that of the preceding Saturday; as he stood and looked on +at the waving red and the waving blue and later at the struggle that was +being waged in the middle of the field, he wondered how on this +afternoon that other game between the red and the blue was going, and +how Lawrence was acquitting himself. + +Certainly it could not, he thought, be any more close, more hotly +contested, than this of the two rival schools. All through the first +half they fought each other without scoring. + +Once St. Timothy’s had got down to St. John’s fifteen-yard line, but +then had been unable to go farther, and Dennison had missed by only a +few feet his try for a goal from the field. + +Early in the second half St. Timothy’s met with misfortune. Dennison was +laid out by a hard tackle; when at last he got to his feet, he limped +badly. Louis Collingwood took him by the arm and walked round with him; +Dennison was arguing, protesting. But Collingwood led him towards the +side-line, patting him on the back, and called “Westby!” + +The spectators cheered the injured player who came off so reluctantly; +then they cheered Westby as he ran out upon the field. Irving was near +the group of substitutes when Dennison hobbled in. + +“Hurt much, Denny?” asked Briggs. + +“No—just that same old ankle—hang it all!” Dennison slipped into a +blanket and lowered himself painfully to the ground. + +Irving’s eyes were upon Westby; he hoped that this time the boy would +not fail. Westby had an opportunity now to steady his nerves; it was St. +Timothy’s ball and only the first down. Collingwood gave the signal; +Irving watched closely, saw Westby take the ball on the pass and dive +into the line. In a moment all the St. Timothy’s eleven seemed to be +behind him, hurling him through, and St. Timothy’s on the side-lines +waved and shouted, for Westby had gained five yards. + +Collingwood called on him again; he gained three yards more. Irving +shouted with the rest; he turned to Mr. Randolph and said,— + +“That ought to give Westby confidence.” + +“I hope it does; he’s so erratic,” Mr. Randolph answered. “If only he’s +starting in now on one of his brilliant streaks!” + +Lane, the Fifth Form halfback, tried to go round the end on the next +play, but made no gain. Then Westby was driven again at left tackle, but +he got only two yards. + +Collingwood gave the signal for a criss-cross; Lane took the ball, and +passed it to Westby, who was already on the run. Westby got clear of the +St. John’s end, and seemed well started for a brilliant run; but their +halfback chased him across the field and finally, by a tremendous diving +tackle, pulled him down. As it was, Westby had made so much of a gain +that the distance had to be measured; he had failed by only a few inches +to make the required amount, and the ball went to St. John’s on their +thirty-five-yard line. + +St. John’s made two ineffectual rushes; then their fullback, Warner, +prepared to kick. Westby and Collingwood raced to their places in the +back field. + +There was a tense moment on both sides; then Warner sent the ball flying +high and far. It was Westby’s ball; the St. John’s ends and one of their +tackles came down fast under the kick. + +Irving, with his heart in his throat, watched Westby; the boy, with both +hands raised, was wabbling about, stepping to the right, to the left, +backward, forward; the ends were there in front of him, crouched and +waiting; Collingwood tried to fend them off, but the big tackle rushed +in and upset him, and at the same instant the ball fell into Westby’s +arms—and slipped through them. + +One of the ends dropped on the ball, rolled over with it a couple of +times, rolled up on his feet again and was off with it for the St. +Timothy’s goal; he had carried it to the twenty-yard line when +Collingwood pulled him down. St. John’s were streaming down their side +line, shrieking and waving their blue flags; St. Timothy’s stood dazed +and silent. + +“Oh, butterfingers!” cried Briggs, stamping his foot. + +“Just like Wes—he wouldn’t make a football player in a thousand years!” +exclaimed Windom. + +Irving heard the comments; he heard other comments. If St. John’s should +score now! He hoped they wouldn’t; he was sorry enough for Westby. But +St. John’s did score, by a series of furious centre rushes, and their +fullback kicked the goal. And when, fifteen minutes later, the referee +blew his whistle, the game was St. John’s, by that score of six to +nothing. + +Irving could understand why some of the St. Timothy’s boys had tears in +their eyes. It was pretty trying even for him to see the triumphant +visitors rush upon the field, toss the members of their team upon their +shoulders, and bear them away exultantly to the athletic house, yelling +and flaunting their flags, while the St. Timothy’s players walked +disconsolately and silently behind them. + +It was trying afterwards to stand by and see those blue-bedecked +invaders form into long-linked lines and dance their serpentine of +victory on St. Timothy’s ground. It was trying to stand by and watch +barge after barge bedecked with blue roll away while the occupants +shouted and waved their hats—and left the field to silence and despair. + +But still St. Timothy’s did not abandon the scene of their defeat. They +waited loyally in front of the athletic house to welcome and console +their team when it should emerge. Collingwood led the players out, and +the crowd gave them a good one. + +Collingwood said, with a smile, though in an unsteady voice, “Much +obliged, fellows,” and waved his hand. + +Then the crowd dispersed; slowly they all walked away. + +That evening, as Irving was about to leave his room to go down to +supper, a boy brought him a telegram. It was from his brother; it said,— + +“We licked them, twelve to six. Feeling fine. Lawrence.” + +At the table Irving tried not to appear too happy. He apologized for his +state of mind and told the boys the cause; those who, like Carroll, were +Harvard sympathizers derived a little cheer from the news, and the +others seemed indifferent to it. Westby was not there. The training +table was vacant, and at the other tables were empty chairs where +substitutes on the team had sat. Mrs. Barclay was entertaining the +football players. + +“I wish I was breaking training there,” said Carroll to Irving; “she has +the most wonderful food.” + +In the discussion of the game there seemed to be little disposition to +blame Westby. + +“After all,” said Blake, “he was only a sub, and he never got so very +much practice in handling punts. I don’t think fellows ought to be sore +on him.” + +“No, he’s just sore on himself,” said Carroll. + +“It’s hard luck, anyhow; except for that one thing he played mighty +well.” + +The mail boy passed, leaving a letter for Irving. It was in his uncle’s +handwriting; and his uncle never wrote to him; it was his aunt who kept +him posted on all the news of home. Did this mean that she was ill—or +that some disaster had befallen? + +Irving determined that if it was bad news, he would reserve it until he +should be alone; he put the letter in his pocket and waited anxiously +for the meal to end. + +When he was again in his room, he tore open the envelope and read this +letter:— + + DEAR IRVING,—I have not helped you and Lawrence much financially. I + thought it would do you and him no harm to try out your own + resources. But I always meant to give you a lift whenever it should + seem wise, and whenever a lift could be most advantageously + arranged. + + Your father was never able to lay up any money; his work was of a + kind that did not permit that. But he would always have shared with + me whatever he had. I have had it in mind to do the same by his + children. I have sold half the farm—the western half—your half and + Lawrence’s. There is four thousand dollars in cash for each of you, + and four thousand on a mortgage for each of you at six per cent. + You had better draw out of school-teaching as soon as possible and + study law—if that is still what you most want to do. + + Your aunt is well and sends her love. We are both looking forward + to seeing you and Lawrence at Christmas. + + Your affectionate uncle, + + ROBERT UPTON. + +A flood of warm emotion poured through Irving; his eyes filled. He had +sometimes thought his uncle selfish and narrow—and all the time he had +been working towards this! + +Irving wrote his reply; he wrote also to Lawrence. Then he took his +letters down to the Study building, to post them so that they might go +out with the night mail. On his way he passed the Barclay house; it was +all brightly lighted, the sound of laughter and of gay boy voices rang +out through the open windows; the notes of a piano then subdued them, +and there burst out a chorus in the sonorous measured sweep of “Wacht am +Rhein.” + +Irving stood for a few moments and listened; his exultant heart was +responsive to that shouted song. Fellows who could sing like that, he +thought, must have trodden disappointment under heel. + +An hour later, when Irving sat in his room, the boys who had been +entertained at the Barclays’ came tramping up the stairs. They were +still singing, but they stopped their song before they entered the +dormitory. Irving met them to say good-night—first Dennison and then +Morrill and then Louis Collingwood. + +“Have you heard the new song Wes has got off, Mr. Upton?” asked +Dennison. + +“No, what’s that?” + +“Hit it up, Wes.” + +“Oh, choke it off.” Collingwood grinned uneasily. + +“Go on, Wes,—strike up. We’ll all join in.” + +“Wait till I get my banjo—you don’t mind, do you, Mr. Upton?” + +“No. I’d like to hear it.” + +So Westby hastened to his room and returned, bearing the instrument; and +all the other boys gathered round, except Collingwood, who stood +sheepishly off at one side. Westby twanged the strings and then to the +accompaniment began,— + + “Across the broad prairies he came from the west, + With fire in his eye and with brawn on his chest; + His arms they were strong and his legs they were fleet; + There was none could outstrip his vanishing feet; + We made him our captain—what else could we do? + You ask who he is? Do I hear you say, ‘Who?’” + +Then they all came in on the chorus:— + + “He is our Lou, he is our honey-Lou, + He is our pride and joy; + He is our Loo-loo, he is our Loo-loo, + He is our Lou-Lou boy.” + +“Silly song!” exclaimed Collingwood with disgust. + +“Wes made it up just this evening, at Mrs. Barclay’s,” said Dennison. +“We were all singing, and after a while Wes edged in to the piano and +sprung this on us. Don’t you think it’s a good song?” + +“So good that I wish I could furnish inspiration for another,” said +Irving. + +Westby joined in the laugh and looked pleased. + +“Good-night, everybody,” said Collingwood; he walked away to his room. +The others followed, all except Westby, to whom Irving said,— + +“Will you wait a moment? I should like to have a little talk with you.” +He led the boy into his room and pushed forward his armchair. + +Westby seated himself with his banjo across his knees and looked at +Irving wonderingly. + +“The fellows seem pretty cheerful after their defeat, don’t they?” said +Irving. + +A shadow crossed Westby’s face. “They’ve been very decent about it,” he +answered. + +Irving put his hand on Westby’s arm. + +“Do you know why they’re so decent? It’s because you’ve cheered them up +yourself. Who was the fellow, Westby, that said he didn’t care who might +make his country’s laws if only he might write its songs?” + +[Illustration: A SHADOW CROSSED WESTBY’S FACE] + +“Oh—no—that’s got nothing to do with me.” + +“You needn’t care who makes the touchdowns. Your job is to do something +else. It’s no discredit to you if because of lack of training or +adaptability, you can’t hang on to a ball at a critical moment. There +are plenty of fellows who can do that.—I suppose you don’t see it yet +yourself—but you know the message my brother sent you? I shall tell him +that you got your chance to-day—and took it.” + +“I don’t see how.” + +“Well, I don’t know how you managed it exactly. But I could see when +those fellows came upstairs just now that you stood better with them +than you ever had done before. It must have been because you showed the +right spirit—and I know by experience, Westby, that it’s awfully hard to +show the right spirit when you’re down.” + +There was silence for a few moments. + +“I guess I’ve made it hard for you,” said Westby at last, in a low +voice. “You’re different from what I thought you were.” + +Irving’s low laugh of exultation sprang from the heart. “Maybe I am—and +maybe you were right about me, too. A fellow changes. A month ago, I was +wondering what use there could ever be in my studying law—trying to +practise, mixing with men—when I couldn’t hold my own with a handful of +boys. For some reason, I don’t feel that way any longer.—Well, that’s +about all I wanted to say to you, Westby.” He stood up. “Good-night.” + +Westby rose and shook hands. “Good-night, sir.” + +He passed out and quietly closed the door. Irving stood at the window, +gazing beyond the shadowy trees to the dim silver line of the pond, +touched now by the moonlight. There was a knock on the door. + +“Come in,” Irving called. + +It was Westby again. + +“Oh, Mr. Upton,” he said, “I meant to tell you—I heard at Mr. Barclay’s +how the Freshman game came out; I wish, if you would, you’d send your +brother my congratulations.” + +“Thank you, I will.” + +“Good-night, sir.” + +“Good-night.” + +The door closed softly. Irving turned again and pressed his forehead +against the window-pane with a smile. It was a smile not merely of +satisfaction because he had won his way at last, though he was not +indifferent to that; he was happy too because this night he felt he had +come close to Westby. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Jester of St. Timothy's, by +Arthur Stanwood Pier + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER OF ST. 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Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/17535-0.zip b/17535-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a834ed --- /dev/null +++ b/17535-0.zip diff --git a/17535-8.txt b/17535-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c85fea --- /dev/null +++ b/17535-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5130 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Jester of St. Timothy's, by Arthur Stanwood Pier + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Jester of St. Timothy's + +Author: Arthur Stanwood Pier + +Release Date: January 16, 2006 [EBook #17535] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER OF ST. TIMOTHY'S *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Niehof, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +OFFICERS OF THE NATIONAL COUNCIL. + +Honorary President, THE HON. WOODROW WILSON +Honorary Vice-President, HON. WILLIAM H. TAFT +Honorary Vice-President, COLONEL THEODORE ROOSEVELT +President, COLIN H. LIVINGSTONE, Washington, D. C. +Vice-President, B. L. DULANEY, Bristol, Tenn. + +Vice-President, MILTON A. McRAE, Detroit, Mich. +Vice-President, DAVID STARK JORDAN, Stanford University, Cal. +Vice-President, F. L. SEELY, Asheville, N. C. +Vice-President, A. STAMFORD WHITE, Chicago, Ill. +Chief Scout, ERNEST THOMPSON SETON, Greenwich, Connecticut +National Scout Commissioner, DANIEL CARTER BEARD, Flushing, N. Y. + + +NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS +BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA + +THE FIFTH AVENUE BUILDING, 200 FIFTH AVENUE +TELEPHONE GRAMERCY 546 +NEW YORK CITY + + +FINANCE COMMITTEE +John Sherman Hoyt, + Chairman +August Belmont +George D. Pratt +Mortimer L. Schiff +H. Rogers Winthrop + + +GEORGE D. PRATT, + Treasurer +JAMES E. WEST, + Chief Scout Executive + + +ADDITIONAL MEMBERS OF THE EXECUTIVE BOARD + +Ernest P. Bidwell +Robert Garrett +Lee F. Hanmer +John Sherman Hoyt +Charles C. Jackson + +Prof. Jeremiah W. Jenks +William D. Murray +Dr. Charles P. Neill +George D. Porter +Frank Presbrey + +Edgar M. Robinson +Mortimer L. Schiff +Lorillard Spencer +Seth Sprague Terry + +July 31st, 1913. + +TO THE PUBLIC:-- + +In the execution of its purpose to give educational value and moral +worth to the recreational activities of the boyhood of America, the +leaders of the Boy Scout Movement quickly learned that to effectively +carry out its program, the boy must be influenced not only in his +out-of-door life but also in the diversions of his other leisure +moments. It is at such times that the boy is captured by the tales of +daring enterprises and adventurous good times. What now is needful is +not that his taste should be thwarted but trained. There should +constantly be presented to him the books the boy likes best, yet always +the books that will be best for the boy. As a matter of fact, however, +the boy's taste is being constantly vitiated and exploited by the great +mass of cheap juvenile literature. + +[Footer: "DO A GOOD TURN DAILY." over] + +To help anxiously concerned parents and educators to meet this grave +peril, the Library Commission of the Boy Scouts of America has been +organised. EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY is the result of their labors. All the +books chosen have been approved by them. The Commission is composed of +the following members: George F. Bowerman, Librarian, Public Library of +the District of Columbia, Washington, D. C.; Harrison W. Graver, +Librarian, Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, Pa.; Claude G. Leland, +Superintendent, Bureau of Libraries, Board of Education, New York City; +Edward F. Stevens, Librarian, Pratt Institute Free Library, Brooklyn, +New York; together with the Editorial Board of our Movement, William D. +Murray, George D. Pratt and Frank Presbrey, with Franklin K. Mathiews, +Chief Scout Librarian, as Secretary. + +In selecting the books, the Commission has chosen only such as are of +interest to boys, the first twenty-five being either works of fiction or +stirring stories of adventurous experiences. In later lists, books of a +more serious sort will be included. It is hoped that as many as +twenty-five may be added to the Library each year. + +Thanks are due the several publishers who have helped to inaugurate this +new department of our work. Without their co-operation in making +available for popular priced editions some of the best books ever +published for boys, the promotion of EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY would have been +impossible. + +We wish, too, to express our heartiest gratitude to the Library +Commission, who, without compensation, have placed their vast experience +and immense resources at the service of our Movement. + +The Commission invites suggestions as to future books to be included in +the Library. Librarians, teachers, parents, and all others interested in +welfare work for boys, can render a unique service by forwarding to +National Headquarters lists of such books as in their judgment would be +suitable for EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY. + +Signed + +[Signature: James E. West] + +Chief Scout Executive. + + + + +[Illustration: LAWRENCE LAUNCHED HIMSELF AND HURLED THE RUNNER BACKWARD +(p. 194)] + + + +EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY--BOY SCOUT EDITION + +THE JESTER OF +ST. TIMOTHY'S + +By +ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER + +AUTHOR OF +BOYS OF ST. TIMOTHY'S, +HARDING OF ST. TIMOTHY'S. ETC. + +ILLUSTRATED + +NEW YORK +GROSSET & DUNLAP +PUBLISHERS +COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +_Published September 1911_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. Irving sets forth on his Adventure 1 + + II. He achieves a Name for Himself 26 + + III. Westby's Amusements 53 + + IV. The Baiting of a Master 75 + + V. Master turns Pupil 96 + + VI. The Penalty for a Foul 120 + + VII. The Worm begins to turn 142 + +VIII. The Harvard Freshman 166 + + IX. Westby in the Game 183 + + X. Master and Boy 205 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +Lawrence launched himself and hurled the +runner backward (p. 194) _Frontispiece_ + +The canoes swung about and made for Each Other 52 + +As to who had won, Irving had not the Slightest Idea 140 + +A Shadow crossed Westby's Face 220 + +_From drawings by B. L. Bates_ + + + + +THE JESTER OF ST. TIMOTHY'S + + + + +CHAPTER I + +IRVING SETS FORTH ON HIS ADVENTURE + + +In the post-office of Beasley's general store Irving Upton was eagerly +sorting the mail. His eagerness at that task had not been abated by the +repeated, the daily disappointments which it had caused him. During the +whole summer month for which he had now been in attendance as Mr. +Beasley's clerk, the arrival of the mail had constituted his chief +interest. And because that for which he had been hoping had failed to +come, his thin face had grown more worried, and the brooding look was +more constantly in his eyes. + +This afternoon his hand paused; he looked at the superscription on an +envelope unbelievingly. The letter came from St. Timothy's School and +was addressed to him. He finished distributing the other letters among +the boxes, for people were waiting outside the partition; then he opened +the envelope and read the type-written enclosure. A flush crept up over +his cheeks, over his forehead; when he raised his eyes, the brooding +look was no longer in them, but a quiet happiness instead, and his lips, +which had so long been troubled, were smoothed out in a faint, contented +smile. He read the letter a second time, then put it in his pocket, and +stepped round behind the counter to sell five cents' worth of pink +gumdrops to little Abby Lawson. + +When she had gone and the callers after mail had been satisfied, Irving +sat down at the table in the back of the store. He read the letter again +and mused over it for a few moments contentedly; then, with it lying +open before him, he proceeded to write an answer. + +After finishing that, he drew from his pocket some papers--French +exercises, done in a scrawling, unformed hand. + +It was the noon hour, when the people of the village were all eating +their dinners; Mr. Beasley had gone home, and Irving was undisturbed. +He helped himself to the crackers and dried beef which were his luncheon +perquisites, and with these at his elbow and nibbling them from time to +time he set about correcting his brother's French. + +He sighed in spite of the happiness which was pervading him; would +Lawrence always go on confusing some of the forms of _tre_ and _avoir_? +Would he never learn to know the difference between _ils ont_ and _ils +sont_? + +Irving made his corrections in a neat, pretty little hand, which of +itself seemed to reprove the student's awkward scrawl. He turned then to +his own studies, which he was pursuing in a tattered volume of +Blackstone's Commentaries on the English Common Law. He did not get on +very fast with this book, and sometimes he wondered what bearing it +could have on the practice of the law in Ohio at the present time. But +he had been advised to familiarize himself with the work in the interval +before he should enter a law school--an interval of such doubtful +length! + +Mr. Beasley's entrance caused him to look up. + +"I shall be leaving you in less than a month now, Mr. Beasley," he said. + +"Got a job to teach, have you?" asked the storekeeper. + +"Yes--at St. Timothy's School." + +"Where may that be?" + +"Up in New Hampshire." + +"Quite a ways off. But I suppose you don't mind that much--having been +away to college." + +"No, I think I'll like it. Besides,--now Lawrence will be able to go to +college this fall, and he and I will be pretty near each other. We'll be +able to spend our holidays together. I think it's fine." + +"It does sound so," agreed Mr. Beasley. "Well, I'll be sorry to lose +you, Irving. The folks all like to have you wait on 'em; you're so +polite and tidy. But I know clerking in a country store ain't much of a +job for a college graduate, and I'm glad you've found something better." + +"I'm glad if I've been of any use to you," replied Irving. "I know you +didn't expect I would be when you took me in. And your giving me this +chance has meant that I could stay on here and tutor Lawrence this +summer and at the same time pay all my living expenses. It's been more +of a help than you know--to Lawrence as well as to me." + +"You're both good boys," said Mr. Beasley. "But it seems like you're too +shy and quiet ever to make much of a lawyer, Irving--or a teacher," he +added, in candid criticism. + +Irving blushed. "Maybe I'll get over that in time, Mr. Beasley." + +"You had better," observed the storekeeper. "It's of no manner of use to +anybody--not a particle. Lawrence, now, is different." + +Yes, Lawrence was different; the fact impressed itself that evening on +Irving when his brother came home from the haying field with his uncle. +Lawrence was big and ruddy and laughing; Irving was slight and delicate +and grave. The two boys went together to their room to make themselves +ready for supper. + +"We finished the north meadow to-day," said Lawrence,--"the whole of it. +So don't blame me if I go to sleep over French verbs this evening." + +"I'll tell you something that will wake you up," Irving replied. "I'm +going to teach at St. Timothy's School--in New Hampshire. So your going +to college is sure, and we'll be only a couple of hours apart." + +"Oh, Irv!" In Lawrence's exclamation there was more expressiveness, more +joy, than in all his brother's carefully restrained statement. "Oh, Irv! +Isn't it splendid! I think you're the finest thing--!" Lawrence grasped +Irving's hand and at the same time began thumping him on the back. Then +he opened the door and shouted down the stairs. + +"Uncle Bob! Aunt Ann! Irv has some great news to-night." + +Mrs. Upton put her head out into the hall; she was setting the table and +held a plate of bread. + +"What is it, Irv? Have you--have you had a letter?" + +There was an anxious, almost a regretful note in her voice. + +"Yes," said Irving. "I'll tell you about it when I come down." + +At the supper table he expounded all the details. Like Mr. Beasley, his +uncle and his aunt had never heard of St. Timothy's School. Irving was +able to enlighten them. At college he had become familiar with its +reputation; it was one of the big preparatory schools in which the +position of teacher had seemed to him desirable almost beyond the hope +of attainment. + +He recited the terms which had been offered and which he had accepted: +nine hundred dollars salary the first year, with lodging, board, washing +all provided--so that really it was the equivalent of fourteen or fifteen +hundred dollars a year. And then there would be the three months' +vacation, in which he could prosecute his law studies and earn +additional money. + +"Sounds good," said Mr. Upton. + +"Of course I'm very glad," said Mrs. Upton. "But how we shall miss you +boys! I've got used to having Irving away,--but to be without Lawrence, +too--" + +"Yes," said her husband with a twinkle in his eyes, "we certainly shall +miss Lawrence--especially in haying time. I'm glad you didn't get this +news till most of the hay crop was in. No more farming for you this +year, Lawrence." + +"Why, but there's all the south meadow uncut--" + +"I'll handle that. As long as there was so much doubt as to whether +you'd be able to go to college or not, I felt that you might be making +yourself useful first of all and studying only in the odd moments. Now +it's different; you've got to settle down to hard study and nothing +else. And Irving had better devote himself entirely to you, and leave +Mr. Beasley to struggle along without any college help." + +"I don't believe he'll miss me very much," Irving admitted. "And you're +right, Uncle Bob; I can accomplish a great deal more working with +Lawrence this next month. I ought to be able to get him entered in +regular standing." + +"If I can do that," cried Lawrence, "perhaps I'll be able to earn my way +as Irv did--tutoring and so on--and not have to call on you or him for any +help." + +"What on earth should I do with nine hundred a year?" Irving exclaimed. + +"Save it for your law school fund," said Lawrence. + +Irving shrugged his shoulders grandly. "Oh, I can earn money." + +Lawrence gave him an affectionate push. "Tut!" he said. "Be good to +yourself once in a while." + +It was a happy family that evening. The uncle and the aunt rejoiced in +the good news, even while regretting the separation. + +Mr. Upton, the younger brother of the boys' father, who had been the +village clergyman, shared his brother's tastes; he read good books, he +would travel to hear a celebrated man speak, he had ideas which were not +bounded by his farm. He had encouraged Irving as well as Lawrence to +seek a university education. The two boys were proud, eager to free +themselves from dependence on the uncle and aunt who, after their +father's death, had given them a home. Irving had worked his way through +college, hardly ever asking for help; he had been a capable scholar and +the faculty had found for him backward students in need of tutoring. + +Meanwhile, Mr. Upton had been busily engaged in developing and +increasing his farm; that he was beginning to be prosperous Irving was +aware; that he did not more earnestly insist upon helping his nephews +stimulated their spirit of independence. They knew that they had been +left penniless; Irving sometimes suspected his uncle of parsimony, yet +this was a trait so incongruous with Mr. Upton's genial nature that +Irving never communicated the suspicion to his brother. Irving felt, +too, that his uncle cared less for him than for Lawrence. Well, that +was natural; Irving was humble there. + +When the dean of the college had said that it would be inadvisable for +Lawrence to make a start unless he had at least three hundred dollars at +command, it had seemed to Irving a little narrow on his uncle's part not +to have come forward at once with that sum. Instead he had merely given +Lawrence the opportunity to work harder in the hay-field and so increase +his small bank account. And it had soon become apparent to Irving that +unless he and Lawrence could between them raise the money, they need not +look to their uncle for help beyond that which he was already giving. +Therefore Irving went into Mr. Beasley's store, and hoped daily for the +letter which at last had come. + +Day after day the two brothers worked together. Irving, quick, +impatient, sometimes losing his temper; Lawrence, slow, calm, turning +the edge of the teacher's sarcasm sometimes with a laugh, sometimes with +a quiet appeal. Irving always felt ashamed after these outbreaks and +uneasily conscious that Lawrence conducted himself with greater +dignity. And Lawrence forgot Irving's irritations in gratitude to him +for his help. "It must be a trial to teach such a numskull," Lawrence +thought; and at the end of one particularly hard day he undertook to +console his brother by saying, "Never mind, Irv; it won't be long now +before you have pupils who aren't country bumpkins and don't need to +have things pounded into their heads with an axe." + +It had been a rather savage remark that had called this out; Irving +threw down his book and perching on the arm of his brother's chair, put +his arm around his neck and begged his forgiveness. + +"As if I could ever like to teach anybody else as much as I like to +teach you!" he exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Lawrence; I'll try to keep a +little better grip on myself." + +Sometimes it seemed to Irving odd that Lawrence should be so slow at his +books; Irving did not fail to realize that with the neighbors or with +strangers, in any gathering whatsoever, Lawrence was always quick, +sympathetic, interested; he himself was the one who seemed dull and +immature. + +It had been so with him at college; he had been merely the student of +books. Social life he had had none, and only now, with the difference +between his brother and himself enforcing a clearer vision, had he +become aware of some deficiency in his education. In silence he envied +Lawrence and wished that he too possessed such winning and engaging +traits. + +He realized the contrast with especial keenness on the afternoon when he +and Lawrence began their eastward journey. There was a party assembled +at the station to see them off,--to see Lawrence off, as Irving +reflected, for never on his own previous departures had he occasioned +any such demonstration. + +Lawrence was presented on the platform with various farewell gifts--a +pair of knit slippers from Sally Buxton, who was the prettiest girl in +the valley and who tried to slip them into his hand when no one else was +looking, and blushed when Nora Carson unfeelingly called attention to +her shy attempt; a pair of mittens from old Mrs. Fitch; a pocket comb +and mirror from the Uptons' hired man; a paper bag of doughnuts from +Mrs. Brumby. + +There were no gifts for Irving; indeed, he had never cared or thought +much, one way or the other, about any of these people clustered on the +platform. Only this summer, seeing them so frequently in Mr. Beasley's +store, he had felt the first stirrings of interest in them; now for the +first time he was aware of a wistfulness because they did not care for +him as they did for Lawrence. + +Mr. Beasley came up to him. "So you're off--both of you. Funny thing--I +guess from the looks of you two, if a stranger was to come along, he'd +pick Lawrence out for the teacher and you for the schoolboy. Lawrence +looks as old as you, and handles himself more grown up, somehow." + +"He's bigger," Irving sighed. + +"Yes, 't ain't only that," drawled Mr. Beasley. "Though 't is a pity +you're so spindling; good thing for a teacher to be able to lay on the +switch good and hard when needed." + +"I don't believe they punish with the switch at St. Timothy's." + +"Then I guess they don't learn the boys much. How you going to keep +order among boys if you don't use the switch?" + +At that moment the train came whistling round the bend. Irving caught up +his bag, turned and grasped Mr. Beasley's hand, then plunged into the +crowd which had closed about his brother. His aunt turned and flung her +arms about him and kissed him; his uncle gave him a good-natured pat on +the back and then stooped and said in his ear, "Irv, if you ever get +into trouble,--go to Lawrence." + +There was the merry, kindly twinkle in his eyes, the quizzical, humorous +smile on his lips that made Irving know his uncle meant always, deep in +his heart, to do the right thing. + +In the train he pondered for a few moments that last word of advice, +wondering if it had been sincere. It rather hurt his dignity, to be +referred to his younger brother in that way--and yet it pleased him too; +he was glad to have Lawrence appreciated. + +Irving spent a day in Cambridge, helping his brother to get settled in +the rooms which he himself had occupied for four years. Then he bade +Lawrence good-by and resumed his journey to New Hampshire. + +It was a pleasant September morning when he presented himself, a sallow, +thin-cheeked, narrow-shouldered, bespectacled youth, before Dr. +Davenport, the rector of St. Timothy's School. The sunlight streamed in +through the southern windows of the spacious library, throwing mellow +tints on the bindings of the books which lined the opposite wall from +floor to ceiling. It was all so bright that Irving, who was troubled +with weak eyes, advanced into it blinking; and perhaps that was one +reason for the disappointment which flitted across the rector's face--and +which Irving, who was acutely sensitive, perceived in his blinking +glance. He flushed, aware that somehow his appearance was too timorous. + +But Dr. Davenport chatted with him pleasantly, told him how highly the +college authorities had recommended him, and only laughingly intimated +a surprise at finding him so young-looking. + +"I hope that teaching won't age you prematurely," he added. "You will +probably have some trying times with the boys--we all do. But it oughtn't +to be hard for you--especially as you will be thrown most of all with the +older boys. Mr. Williams, who has had charge of the Sixth Form dormitory +at the Upper School, is ill with typhoid fever and will probably not +come back this term. So I'm going to put you in charge there. You will +have under you twenty fellows, some of them the best in the school. But +just because they are in some ways pretty mature, don't be--don't be +self-effacing." + +"I understand," said Irving. He sat on the edge of his chair, and +crumpled his handkerchief nervously in his hands. And all the time--with +his singular clearness of intuition--he was aware of the doubt and +distrust passing through Dr. Davenport's mind. + +"Don't be afraid of the boys or show embarrassment or discomfort before +them," continued Dr. Davenport, "and on the other hand don't try to +cultivate dignity by being cold and austere. Be natural with them--but +always be the master.--There!" he broke off, smiling, for he saw that +Irving looked worried and seemed to be taking all this as personal +criticism--"that's the talk that I always give to a new master; and now +I'm done. Here is a printed copy of the rules and regulations which I +advise you to study; you must try to familiarize yourself with our +customs before any of the boys arrive. To-morrow the new boys will come, +and you will report for duty at the Gymnasium, where the entrance +examinations will be held. You will find your room in the Sixth Form +dormitory, at the Upper School. I hope you will like the life here, Mr. +Upton--and I wish you every possible success in it." + +The rector gave him an encouraging handshake and another friendly smile. +But Irving departed feeling depressed and afraid. He had seen that the +rector was disappointed in him--in his appearance, in his manner. And +the rector's little speech had given him the clue. Until now, he had not +much considered how large a part of his work would be in the management +and the discipline of the boys; the mere teaching of them was what had +been in his mind, and for that he felt perfectly competent. In college, +that was all that the tutoring, in which he had been so successful, +meant. But, confronted by the necessity of establishing and maintaining +friendly human relations with a lot of strange boys, Irving for the +first time questioned his qualifications, realizing that the rector too +was questioning them. + +He became more cheerful the next day, when the new boys began to arrive +and he found himself at once with work to do. He had mastered pretty +thoroughly the names of the buildings and the geography of the place, +and it was rather pleasant to be able to give information and directions +to those younger and more ignorant than himself. + +It was pleasant, too, to have one mother who was wandering round vaguely +with her small son and to whom he shyly proffered assistance, show such +appreciation of his courtesy and end by appealing to him to keep always +a friendly eye on her little forlorn Walter. As it turned out, Irving +never afterwards came much into contact with the boy, who lived in a +different building and was not in any of his classes; he asked about him +from time to time, and discovered that Walter was a mischievous person, +not troubled by homesickness. + +But most agreeable and reassuring was it to take charge of the +examination-room, where the new boys were undergoing the tests of their +scholarship. Most of them were candidates for the Second, Third, and +Fourth Forms, and their ages ranged from twelve to fifteen; Irving sat +at a desk on the platform and surveyed them while they worked, or +tiptoed down the aisle in response to an appeal from some uplifted hand. + +He had come so recently from examination-rooms where he had been one of +the pupils that this experience exhilarated him; it conferred upon him +an authority that he enjoyed. He liked to be addressed by these +nice-mannered young boys as "sir," and to be recognized by them so +unquestioningly as a person to whom deference must be shown. Altogether +this first day with the new boys inspired him with confidence, and at +the end of it he attacked the pile of examination books +enthusiastically. + +Mr. Barclay aided him in that task; Mr. Barclay was a young master also, +comparatively, though he had had several years' experience. Irving was +attracted to him at once, and was grateful for the way in which he made +suggestions when there was some uncertainty as to how a boy should be +graded. + +Irving liked, too, the genial chuckle which preceded an invitation to +inspect some candidate's egregious blunder; Irving would read and smile +quietly, unaware that Barclay was watching him and wondering how +appreciative he might be of the ludicrous. + +Two nights Irving spent all alone in the Sixth Form dormitory; it amused +him to walk up and down the corridors with the list of those to whom +rooms there had been assigned. "Collingwood, Westby, Scarborough, +Morrill, Anderson, Baldersnaith, Hill"--some of them had occupied these +rooms as Fifth Formers, and Irving had asked Mr. Barclay about them. + +Louis Collingwood was captain of the school football team; Scarborough +was captain of the school crew. + +"Neither of them will give you any trouble," said Barclay. "Scarborough +used to be a cub, but he has developed very much in the last year or +two, and now he and Collingwood are the best-liked fellows in the +school. They have a proper sense of their responsibility as leaders of +the school, and are more likely to help you than to make trouble. +Morrill is their faithful follower, though a little harum-scarum at +times. Westby--" the master hesitated over that name and looked at Irving +with a measuring glance--"Westby is what you might call the school +jester. He's very popular with the boys--not equally so with all the +masters. Personally I'm rather fond of him. He's almost too quick-witted +sometimes." + +That evening Barclay took the new master home to dine with him. Mrs. +Barclay was as cordial and as kind as her husband; Irving began to feel +more than satisfied with his surroundings. + +"Pity you're not married, Upton," Barclay said, half jokingly. "You'd +escape keeping dormitory if you were--which you'll find the meanest of +all possible jobs. And then if your wife's the right kind--the boys have +to be pretty decent to you in order to keep on her good side." + +Mrs. Barclay laughed. "I suppose that's the only reason they're pretty +decent to you, William!--You'll find it easy, Mr. Upton,--for the reason +that they're a pretty decent lot of boys." + +The next day at noon the old boys began to arrive. Irving was coming out +of the auditorium, where he had been correcting the last set of +examination papers, when a barge drew up before the study building and +boys clutching hand-bags tumbled out and hurried into the building to +greet the rector. + +Irving stood for a few moments looking on with interest: other barges +kept coming over the hill, interspersed with carriages, in which a few +arrived more magnificently. + +It occurred to Irving that perhaps he had better hasten to his dormitory +in order to be on hand when his charges should begin to appear; he was +just starting away when three boys arm in arm rushed out of the study +building. They came prancing up to him, all smiles and twinkles; they +were boys of seventeen or eighteen. They confronted him, blocking his +path; and the one in the middle, a slim, straight fellow in a blue suit, +said,-- + +"Hello, new kid! What name?" + +A blush of embarrassment mounted in Irving's cheeks; feeling it, he +conceived it all the more advisable to assert his dignity. So he said +without a smile, in a constrained voice,-- + +"I am not a new kid. I am a master." + +The three boys who had been beaming on him with good humor in their +eyes stared blankly. Then the one in the middle, with a sudden whoop of +laughter, swung the two others round and led them off at a run; and as +they went, their delighted laughter floated back to Irving's ears. + +His cheeks were tingling, almost as if they had been slapped. He +followed the boys at a distance; they moved towards the Upper School. +His heart sank; what if they were in his dormitory? + +He entered the building just as the last of the three was going up the +Sixth Form dormitory stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +HE ACHIEVES A NAME FOR HIMSELF + + +At the foot of the staircase Irving hesitated until the sound of the +voices and footsteps had ceased. The three boys had not seen him when he +had entered; he was wondering whether he had better be courageous, go +right up after them, and introduce himself,--just as if they had not +caught him off his guard and put him into a ridiculous position,--or +delay a little while in the hope that their memory of it would be less +keen. + +He decided that he had better be courageous. When he reached the top +floor, he went into his room; he was feeling nervous over the prospect +of confronting his charges, and he wished to be sure that his hair and +his necktie looked right. While he was examining himself in the mirror, +he heard a door open on the corridor and a boy call, "Lou! Did you know +that Mr. Williams won't be back this term?" + +Farther down the corridor a voice answered, "No! What's the matter?" + +"Typhoid. Mr. Randolph told me." + +"Who's taken his place?" It was another voice that asked this question. + +"A new man--named Upton. I haven't laid eyes on him yet." + +"Wouldn't it be a joke--!" The speaker paused to laugh. "Suppose it +should turn out to be the new kid!" + +"'I am not a new kid; I am a master.'" + +The mimicry was so accurate that Irving winced and then flushed to the +temples. In the laughter that it produced he closed his door quietly and +sat down to think. He couldn't be courageous now; he felt that he could +not step out and face those fellows who were laughing at him. Of course +they were the ones who ought to be embarrassed by his appearance, not +he; but Irving felt they would lend one another support and brazen it +through, and that he would be the one to exhibit weakness. He decided +that he must wait and try to make himself known to each one of them +separately--that only by such a beginning would he be likely to engage +their respect. + +It was the first time that he had been brought face to face with his +pitiable diffidence. He was ashamed; he thought of how differently +Lawrence would have met the situation--how much more directly he would +have dealt with it. Irving resolved that hereafter he would not be +afraid of any multitude of boys. But he refrained from making his +presence known in the dormitory that afternoon. + +At half past five o'clock he went downstairs to the rooms of Mr. +Randolph, who had charge of the Upper School. Mr. Marcy, the Fifth Form +dormitory master, and Mr. Wythe, the Fourth Form dormitory master, were +also there. They were veterans, comparatively, and it was to meet them +and benefit by what they could tell him that Irving had been invited. +All three congratulated him on his good fortune in obtaining the Sixth +Form dormitory. + +"The older they are, the less trouble they are," said Wythe. "My first +year I was over at the Lower School, looking after the little kids. Half +the time they're sick and whimpering and have to be coddled, and the +rest of the time they have to be spanked." + +"It hardly matters what age they are," lamented Marcy, pessimistically. +"There's bound to be a dormitory disorder once in so often." + +"What do you do in that case?" asked Irving. + +"Jump hard on some one," answered Wythe. "Try to get the leader of it, +but if you can't get him, get somebody. Report him,--give him three +sheets." + +"That means writing Latin lines for three hours on half-holidays?" + +"Yes, and six marks off in Decorum for the week. Of course they'll come +wheedling round you, wanting to be excused; you have to use your own +discretion about that." + +"Do you have any Sixth Form classes?" asked Marcy. + +"Yes," Irving answered. "In Geometry." + +"That means you'll have to take the upper hand and hold it, right from +the start. If you have one crowd in dormitory to look after and another +crowd in class, you can afford to relax a little now and then; but when +it's the same boys in both--they watch for any sign of weakening." + +"There will be only two of them at your table, any way, Mr. Upton," said +Randolph. He passed over a list. "The others are all Fourth and Fifth +Formers--only Westby and Carroll from the Sixth!" + +"Westby!" Wythe sighed. "Maybe we were premature in congratulating you. +I'd forgotten about Westby." + +"What is the matter with him?" asked Irving. + +"His cleverness, and his attractiveness. He smiles and smiles and is a +villain still. He was in my dormitory year before last and kept it in a +constant turmoil. And yet if you have any sense of humor at all you +can't help being amused by him--even sympathizing with him--though it's +apt to be at your own expense." + +"He's perfectly conscienceless," declared Marcy. + +"And yet there's no real harm in him," said Randolph. + +"He seems to be something of a puzzle." Irving spoke uneasily. "And he's +to be at my table--I'm to have a table?" + +"Oh, yes. In fact, one or two of the Sixth Formers--Scarborough, for +instance--have tables. But we don't let all the Sixth Formers eat +together; we try to scatter them. And Westby and Carroll have fallen to +your lot." + +"If you happen to see either of them before supper, I should like to +meet them," Irving said. + +He felt that if he could make their acquaintance separately and without +witnesses, he could produce a better impression than if he waited and +confronted them before a whole table of strange faces. + +But as it happened, that was just the way that he did meet Westby and +Carroll. When the supper bell sounded, the hallway of the Upper School +was crowded with boys, examining the schedule which had been posted and +which assigned them to their seats in the dining-room. Irving, after +waiting nervously until more than half the number had entered the +dining-room and deriving no help from any of the other masters, went in +and stood at the head of the third table, as he had been instructed to +do. Four or five boys were already standing there at their places; they +looked at him with curiosity and bowed to him politely. The crowd as it +entered thinned; Irving was beginning to hope that Westby and Carroll +had gone elsewhere,--and then, just as Mr. Randolph was mounting to the +head table on the dais, two boys slipped in and stood at the seats at +Irving's right. He recognized them as having been two of the three who +had laughed when he had proclaimed himself a master. One was the slim, +tall fellow who had called him "new kid." + +For a moment at Irving's table, after the boys had rattled into their +seats, there was silence. In front of Irving were a platter of cold +tongue and a dish of beans, and he began to put portions of each on the +plates piled before him. Then as he passed the first plate along the +line he looked up and said, "I think we'd better find out who everybody +is. So each fellow, as he gets his plate, will please sing out his +name." + +That was not such a bad beginning; there was a general grin which +broadened into a laugh when the first boy blushingly owned to the name +of Walnut. Then came Lacy and Norris, and then Westby. + +"Oh," said Irving. "I think you're to be in my dormitory, aren't you?" + +"I believe so." Westby looked at him quizzically, as if expecting him to +make some reference to their encounter; but Irving passed on to his next +neighbor, Carroll, and then began with the other side of the table. + +He liked the appearance of the boys; they were quiet-looking and +respectful, and they had been responsive enough to his suggestion about +announcing their names. A happy inspiration told him that so long as he +could keep on taking the initiative with boys, he would have no serious +trouble. But it was one thing to recognize an effective mode of conduct, +and another to have the resourcefulness for carrying it out. Irving was +just thinking what next he should say, when Westby fell upon him. + +"Mr. Upton,"--Westby's voice was curiously distinct, in spite of its +quietness,--"wasn't it funny, our taking you for a new kid this +afternoon?" + +Because the question was so obviously asked in a lull to embarrass him, +Irving was embarrassed. The interest of all the boys at the table had +been skillfully excited, and Westby leaned forward in front of Carroll, +with mischievous eyes and smile. Irving felt his color rising; he felt +both abashed and annoyed. + +"Why, yes," he said hesitatingly. "I--I was a little startled." + +"Did they take you for a new kid, Mr. Upton?" asked Blake, the Fifth +Former, who sat on Irving's left. + +"For a moment, yes," admitted Irving, anxious not to pursue the subject. + +But Westby proceeded to explain with gusto, while the whole table +listened. "Lou Collingwood and Carrie here and I were in front of the +Study, and out came Mr. Upton. And Lou wanted to nail him for the +Pythians, so we all pranced up to him, and I said, 'Hello, new kid; what +name, please?'--just like that; didn't I, Mr. Upton?" + +"Yes," said Irving grudgingly. He had an uneasy feeling that he was +being made an object of general entertainment; certainly the eyes of all +the boys at the table were fixed upon him smilingly. + +"What happened then?" asked the blunt Blake. + +"Why, then," continued Westby, "Mr. Upton told us that he wasn't a new +kid at all, but a new master. You may imagine we were surprised--weren't +we, Mr. Upton?" + +"Oh, I could hardly tell--" + +"The joke was certainly on us. As the French say, it was a +_contretemps_. To think that after all the years we'd been here, we +couldn't tell a new kid from a new master!" + +Irving was mildly bewildered. He could not quite determine whether +Westby was telling the story more as a joke on himself or on him. +Anyway, in spite of the temporary embarrassment which they had caused +him, there seemed to be nothing offensive in the remarks. He liked +Westby's face; it was alert and good-humored, and the cajoling quality +in the boy's voice and the twinkle in his eyes were quite attractive. In +fact, his manner during supper was so agreeable that Irving quite forgot +it was this youth whom he had overheard mimicking him: "I am not a new +kid; I am a master." + +After supper there were prayers in the Common Room; then all the boys +except the Sixth Formers went to the Study building to sit for an hour +under the eyes of a master, to read or write letters. On subsequent +evenings they would have to employ this period in studying, but as yet +no lessons had been assigned; the classroom work had not begun. The +Sixth Form were exempt from the necessity of attending Study, and had +the privilege of preparing their lessons in their own rooms. Irving +found, on going up to his dormitory, that the boys were visiting one +another, helping one another unpack, darting up and down the corridor +and carrying on loud conversations. He decided, as there were no lessons +for them to prepare, not to interfere; their sociability seemed harmless +enough. + +So, leaving the door of his room open that he might hear and suppress +any incipient disorder, he began a letter to Lawrence. He thought at +first that he would confide to his brother the little troubles which +were annoying him. But when he set about it, they seemed really too +petty to transcribe; surely he was man enough to bear such worries +without appealing to a younger brother for advice. + +There was a loud burst of laughter from a room in which several boys had +gathered. It was followed by the remark in Westby's pleasant, +persuasive voice,-- + +"Look out, fellows, or we'll have Kiddy Upton down on us." + +"Kiddy Upton!" another voice exclaimed in delight, and there was more +laughter. + +Kiddy Upton! So that was to be his name. Of course boys gave nicknames +to their teachers,--Irving remembered some appellations that had +prevailed even at college. But none of them seemed so slighting or so +jeering as this of Kiddy; and Irving flushed as he had done when he had +been taken for a "new kid." But now his sensitiveness was even more +hurt; it wounded him that Westby, that pleasant, humorous person, should +have been the one to apply the epithet. + +Westby began singing "The Wearing of the Green," to an accompaniment on +a banjo. Presently four or five voices, with extravagant brogues, were +uplifted in the chorus:-- + + "'Tis the most disthressful counthry + That ever there was seen; + For they're hanging men and women too + For wearin' of the green." + +There was much applause; boys from other rooms went hurrying down the +corridor. The banjo-player struck up "The Road to Mandalay;" again +Irving recognized Westby's voice. + +Irving decided that he must not be thin-skinned; it was his part to step +up, be genial, make himself known to all these boys who were to be under +his care, and show them that he wished to be friendly. He did not wait +to debate with himself the wisdom of this resolve or to consider how he +should proceed; he acted on the impulse. He walked down the corridor to +the third room on the left--the door of Westby's room, from which the +sounds of joviality proceeded. He knocked; some one called "Come in;" +and Irving opened the door. + +Three boys sat in chairs, three sat on the bed; Westby himself was +squatting cross-legged on the window seat, with the banjo across his +knees. They all rose politely when Irving entered. + +"I thought I would drop in and make your acquaintance," said Irving. +"We're bound to know one another some time." + +"My name's Collingwood," said the boy nearest him, offering his hand. He +was a healthy, light-haired, solidly put together youth, with a genial +smile. "This is Scarborough, Mr. Upton." + +The biggest of them all came forward at that and shook hands. Irving +thought that his deep-set dark eyes were disconcertingly direct in their +gaze; and a lock of black hair overhung his brow in a far from +propitiating manner. Yet his bearing was dignified and manly; Irving +felt that he might be trusted to show magnanimity. + +"Here's Carroll," continued Collingwood; and Irving said, "Oh, I know +Carroll; we sat together at supper." Carroll said nothing, merely smiled +in an agreeable, non-committal manner; so far it was all that Irving had +discovered he could do. + +"That fellow with the angel face is Morrill," Collingwood went on, "and +the one next to him, with the aristocratic features, is Baldersnaith, +and this red-head here is Dennison,--and that's Westby." + +Irving, shaking hands round the circle, said, "Oh, I know Westby." + +"Sit down, won't you, Mr. Upton?" Westby pushed his armchair forward. + +"Thank you; don't let me interrupt the singing." + +"Maybe you'll join us?" + +Irving shook his head. "I wish I could. But please go on." + +Westby squatted again on the window-seat and plucked undecidedly at the +banjo-strings. Then he cleared his throat and launched upon a negro +melody; he sang it with the unctuous abandon of the darkey, and Irving +listened and looked on enviously, admiring the display of talent. Westby +sang another song, and then turned and pushed up the window. + +"Awfully hot for this time of year, isn't it?" he said. "Fine moonlight +night; wouldn't it be great to go for a swim?" + +"Um!" said Morrill, appreciatively. + +"Will you let us go, Mr. Upton?" Westby asked the question pleadingly. +"Won't you please let us go? It's such a fine warm moonlight night--and +it isn't as if school had really begun, you know." + +"But I think the rules don't permit your being out at this time of +night, do they?" said Irving. + +"Well, but as I say, school hasn't really begun yet. And besides, Scabby +here is almost as good as a master--and so is Lou Collingwood; I'm the +only really irresponsible one in the bunch--" + +"Where do you go to swim?" + +"In the pond, just beyond the isthmus--only about a quarter of a mile +from here. Come on, fellows, Mr. Upton's going to let us go." + +Irving laughed uneasily. "Oh, I didn't say that. If Mr. Randolph is +willing that you should go, I wouldn't object." + +"You're in charge of this dormitory," argued Westby. "And if you gave us +permission, Mr. Randolph wouldn't say anything." + +"I don't feel that I can make an exception to the rules," said Irving. + +"But school hasn't really begun yet," persisted Westby. + +"I think it really has, so far as observing the rules is concerned," +replied Irving. + +"You might go with us, sir--and that would make it all right." + +"But I don't believe I want to go in swimming this evening." + +"I'm awfully afraid you're going to be just like granite, Mr. Upton," +sighed Westby,--"the man with the iron jaw." He turned on the others a +humorous look; they all were smiling. Irving felt uncomfortable again, +suspecting that Westby was making game of him, yet not knowing in what +way to meet it--except by silence. + +"I'll tell you what I will do with you to-morrow, Wes," said +Collingwood. "I'll challenge you to that water duel that we were to have +pulled off last June." + +"All right, Lou," said Westby. "Carrie here will be my trusty squire and +will paddle my canoe." + +Carroll grinned his assent. + +"I'll pick Ned Morrill for my second," said Collingwood. "And Scabby can +be referee." + +"What's a water duel?" asked Irving. + +"They go out in canoes, two in each canoe," answered Scarborough. "One +fellow paddles, and the other stands up in the bow with a long pole and +a big fat sponge tied to the end of it. Then the two canoes manoeuvre, +and try to get within striking distance, and the fellow or canoe that +gets upset first loses. We had a tournament last spring, and these two +pairs came through to the finals, but never fought it out--baseball or +tennis or something always interfered." + +"It must be quite an amusing game," said Irving. + +"Come up to the swimming hole to-morrow afternoon if you want to see +it," said Collingwood, hospitably. "I'll just about drown Westby. It +will be a good show." + +"Thank you; I'd like to--" + +"But don't you think, Mr. Upton,"--again it was Westby, with his cajoling +voice and his wheedling smile,--"that I might have just one evening's +moonlight practice for it?" + +"Oh, I don't believe you need any practice." + +"But you said I might if Mr. Randolph would consent. I don't see why you +shouldn't be independent, as well as liberal." + +There was a veiled insinuation in this, for all the good-natured, +teasing tone, and Irving did not like it. + +"No," he said. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't let you go swimming +to-night.--I'm glad to have met you all." And so he took his departure, +and presently the sound of banjo and singing rose again from Westby's +room. + +Irving proceeded to visit the other rooms of the dormitory and to make +the acquaintance of the occupants--boys engaged mostly in arranging +bureau drawers or hanging pictures. They were all friendly enough; it +seemed to him that he could get on with boys individually; it was when +they faced him in numbers that they alarmed him and caused his manner +to be hesitating and embarrassed. One big fellow named Allison was +trying to hang a picture when Irving entered; it was a large and heavy +picture, and Irving held it straight while Allison stood on a chair and +set the hook on the moulding. Allison thanked Irving with the gratitude +of one unaccustomed to receiving such consideration; indeed, his +uncouthness and unkemptness made him one of those unfortunate boys who +suffered now and then from persecution. Irving learned afterwards that +the crowd he had met in Westby's room hung together and were the leaders +not merely in the affairs of the dormitory, but of the school. + +At half past nine the big bell on the Study building rang twice--the +signal for the boys to go to their respective rooms. Irving had been +informed of the little ceremony which was the custom; he stepped out in +front of his door at the end of the corridor, and one after another the +boys came up, shook hands with him, and bade him good-night. Westby came +to him with the engaging and yet somewhat disquieting smile which +recalled to Irving Mr. Wythe's words, "He smiles and smiles, but is a +villain still." It was a smile which seemed to suggest the discernment +and enjoyment of all one's weak spots. + +"_Good_-night, Mr. Upton," said Westby, and his voice was excessively +urbane. It made Irving look forward to a better acquaintance with both +expectancy and apprehension. + +The first morning of actual school work went well enough; Irving met his +classes, which were altogether in mathematics, assigned them lessons, +and managed to keep them and himself busy. From one of them he brought +away some algebra exercises, which he spent part of the afternoon in +correcting. When he had finished this work, the invitation to witness +the water duel occurred to his mind. + +He found no other master to bear him company, so he set off by himself +through the woods which bordered the pond behind the Gymnasium. He came +at last to the "isthmus"--a narrow dyke of stones which cut off a long +inlet and bridged the way over to a wooded peninsula that jutted out +into the pond. On the farther side of this peninsula, secluded behind +trees and bushes, was the swimming hole. + +As Irving approached, he heard voices; he drew nearer and saw the bare +backs of boys undressing and heard then the defiances which they were +hurling at one another--phrased in the language of Ivanhoe. + +"Nay, by my halidome, but I shall this day do my devoir right worthily +upon the body of yon false knight," quoth Westby, as he carefully turned +his shirt right side out. + +"A murrain on thee! Beshrew me if I do not spit thee upon my trusty +lance," replied Collingwood, as he drew on his swimming tights. + +Then some one trotted out upon the spring-board, gave a bounce and a +leap, and went into the water with a splash. + +"How is it, Ned?" called Westby; and Irving came up as Morrill, reaching +out for a long side stroke, shouted, "Oh, fine--warm and fine." + +"Hello, Mr. Upton." It was Baldersnaith who first saw him; Baldersnaith, +Dennison, and Smythe were fully dressed and were sitting under a tree +looking on. + +"You're just in time," said Collingwood. + +Scarborough, stripped like Westby and Carroll and Morrill and +Collingwood, was out on the pond, paddling round in a canoe. He was +crouched on one knee in the middle, and the canoe careened over with his +weight, so that the gunwale was only an inch or two above the surface. +He was evidently an expert paddler, swinging the craft round, this way +and that, without ever taking the paddle out of the water. + +Two other canoes were hauled up near the spring-board; Carroll was +bending over one of them. + +"Bring me my lethal weapon, Carrie," Westby commanded. "I want to show +Mr. Upton.--Is the button on tight?" + +Carroll produced from the canoe a long pole with an enormous sponge +fastened to one end; he pulled at the sponge and announced, "Yes, the +button's on tight," and passed the pole over to Westby. + +Westby made one or two experimental lunges with it and remarked +musingly, "When I catch him square above the bread line with this--!" + +"Come on, then!" said Collingwood. "Come here, Ned!" + +Morrill swam ashore and pushed off in one of the canoes with +Collingwood--taking the stern seat and the paddle. Collingwood knelt in +the bow, with his spear laid across the gun-wales in front of him. In +like manner Westby and Carroll took to the water. + +"This is the best two bouts out of three," called Scarborough, as he +circled round. "Don't you want to come aboard, Mr. Upton, and help +judge?" + +"Why, yes, thank you," said Irving. + +So Scarborough called, "Wait a moment, fellows," and paddling ashore, +took on his passenger. Then he sped out to the middle of the bay; the +two other canoes were separated by about fifty feet. + +"Charge!" cried Scarborough, and Morrill and Carroll began paddling +towards each other, while in the bows Collingwood and Westby rose to +their feet and held their spears in front of them. They advanced +cautiously and then swung apart, evading the collision--each trying to +tempt the other to stab and overreach. + +"Oh, you're both scared!" jeered Baldersnaith from the shore. + +The canoes swung about and made for each other again; and this time +passed within striking distance. Westby's aim missed, his sponge-tipped +lance slid past Collingwood's shoulder, and the next instant +Collingwood's sponge--well weighted with water--smote Westby full in the +chest and hove him overboard. For one moment Carroll struggled to keep +the canoe right side up, but in vain; it tipped and filled, and with a +shout he plunged in head foremost after his comrade. + +They came up and began to push their canoe ashore; the two other canoes +drew alongside and assisted, Scarborough and Morrill paddling, while +Irving and Collingwood laid hold of the thwarts. + +"That's all right; I'll get you this time," spluttered Westby. "We're +going to use strategy now." + +They emptied the water out of the canoe and proceeded again to the +battleground. Then, when Scarborough gave the word, Carroll began +paddling madly; he and Westby bore down upon their antagonists at a most +threatening speed. Morrill swung to the right to get out of their path; +and then suddenly Carroll swung in the opposite direction--with what +strategic purpose neither Irving nor Scarborough had time to conjecture. +For they were loitering close on that side, not expecting any such +manoeuvre; the sharp turn drove the bow of Carroll's canoe straight for +the waist of Scarborough's, and Westby with an excited laugh undertook +to fend off with his pole, lost his balance, and trying to recover it, +upset both canoes together. + +Irving felt himself going, heard Westby's laughing shout, "Look out, Mr. +Upton!" and then went under. + +[Illustration: THE CANOES SWUNG ABOUT AND MADE FOR EACH OTHER] + + + + +CHAPTER III + +WESTBY'S AMUSEMENTS + + +The water was warm, but Irving swallowed a good deal of it and also was +conscious of the fact that he had on a perfectly good suit of clothes. +So he came to the surface, choking and annoyed; and when he recovered +his faculties, he observed first of all Westby's grinning face. + +"You can swim all right, can't you, Mr. Upton?" said Westby. "I thought +for a moment we might have to dive for you." + +Irving clutched at the stern of the capsized canoe and said, rather +curtly, "I'm not dressed to enjoy swimming." + +"I'm awfully sorry," said Scarborough. "But I never thought they were +going to turn that way; I don't know what Carrie thought he was doing--" + +"I'd have shown you some strategy if you hadn't blundered into us," +declared Carroll. + +"Blundered into you! There was no need for Wes to give us such a poke, +anyhow." + +Westby replied merely with an irritating chuckle--irritating at least to +Irving, who felt that he should be showing more contrition. + +Collingwood and Morrill came alongside, both laughing, jeering at Westby +and offering polite expressions of solicitude to the master. They told +him to lay hold of the tail of their canoe, and then they towed him +ashore as rapidly as possible. When he drew himself up, dripping, on the +bank, Baldersnaith, Dennison, and Smythe were all on the broad grin, and +from the water floated the sound of Westby's merriment. + +Irving stood for a moment, letting himself drip, quite undecided as to +what he should do. He had never been ducked before, with all his clothes +on; the clammy, weighted sensation was most unpleasant, the thought of +his damaged and perhaps ruined suit was galling, the indignity of his +appearance was particularly hard to bear. He felt that Baldersnaith and +the others were trying to be as polite and considerate as possible, and +yet they could not refrain from exhibiting their amusement, their +delight. + +Scarborough, who had swum ahead of the others, waded ashore and looked +him over. "I tell you what you'd better do, Mr. Upton," he said. "You'd +better take your clothes off, wring them out, and spread them out to +dry. They'll dry in this sun and wind. And while they're doing that, you +can come in swimming with us." + +Irving hesitated a moment; instinct told him that the advice was +sensible, yet he shrank from accepting it; he felt that for a master to +do what Scarborough suggested would be undignified, and might somehow +compromise his position. "I think I'd better run home and rub myself +down and put on some dry things," he replied. + +"Well," said Scarborough, "just as you say. Sorry I got you into this +mess." + +"Oh, it's all right," said Irving. + +He walked away, with the water trickling uncomfortably down him inside +his clothes and swashing juicily in his shoes. He liked Scarborough for +the way he had acted, but he felt less kindly towards Westby. He was by +no means sure that Westby had not deliberately soused him and then +pretended it was an accident. He remembered Westby's mirthful laugh just +when the thing was happening; and certainly if it had really been an +accident Westby had shown very little concern. He had been indecently +amused; he was so still; his clear joyous laugh was ringing after Irving +even now, and Irving felt angrily that he was at this moment a +ridiculous figure. To be running home drenched!--probably it would have +been better if he had done what Scarborough had suggested, less +undignified, more manly really. But he couldn't turn back now. + +He was cold and his teeth had begun to chatter, so he started to run. He +hoped that when he came out of the woods he might be fortunate enough to +elude observation on the way to the Upper School, but in this he was +disappointed. As he jogged by the Study building, with his clothes +jouncing and slapping heavily upon his shoulders, out came the rector +and met him face to face. + +"Upset canoeing?" asked the rector with a smile. + +"Yes," Irving answered; he stood for a moment awkwardly. + +"Well, it will happen sometimes," said the rector. "Don't catch cold." +And he passed on. + +There was some consolation for Irving in this matter-of-fact view. In +the rector's eyes apparently his dignity had not suffered by the +incident. But when a moment later he passed a group of Fourth Formers +and they turned and stared at him, grinning, he felt that his dignity +had suffered very much. He felt that within a short time his misfortune +would be the talk of the school. + +At supper it was as he expected it would be. Westby set about airing the +story for the benefit of the table, appealing now and then to Irving +himself for confirmation of the passages which were least gratifying to +Irving's vanity. "You _did_ look so woe-begone when you stood up on +shore, Mr. Upton," was the genial statement which Irving especially +resented. To have Westby tell the boys the first day how he had called +the new master a new kid and the second day how he had ducked him was a +little too much; it seemed to Irving that Westby was slyly amusing +himself by undermining his authority. But the boy's manner was +pleasantly ingratiating always; Irving felt baffled. Carroll did not +help him much towards an interpretation; Carroll sat by self-contained, +quietly intelligent, amused. Irving liked both the boys, and yet as the +days passed, he seemed to grow more and more uneasy and anxious in their +society. + +In the classroom he was holding his own; he was a good mathematical +scholar, he prepared the lessons thoroughly, and he found it generally +easy to keep order by assigning problems to be worked out in class. The +weather continued good, so that during play time the fellows were out +of doors instead of loafing round in dormitory. They all had their own +little affairs to organize; athletic clubs and literary societies held +their first meetings; there was a process of general shaking down; and +in the interest and industry occasioned by all this, there was not much +opportunity or disposition to make trouble. + +But the first Sunday was a bad day. In a boys' school bad weather is apt +to be accompanied by bad behavior; on this Sunday it poured. The boys, +having put on their best clothes, were obliged, when they went out to +chapel, to wear rubbers and to carry umbrellas--an imposition against +which they rebelled. After chapel, there was an hour before dinner, and +in that hour most of the Sixth Formers sought their rooms--or sought one +another's rooms; it seemed to Irving, who was trying to read and who had +a headache, that there was a needless amount of rushing up and down the +corridors and of slamming of doors. By and by the tumult became +uproarious, shouts of laughter and the sound of heavy bodies being +flung against walls reached his ears; he emerged then and saw the +confusion at the end of the corridor. Allison was suspended two or three +feet above the floor, by a rope knotted under his arms; it was the rope +that was used for raising trunks up to the loft above. In lowering it +from the loft some one had trespassed on forbidden ground. Westby, +Collingwood, Dennison, Scarborough, and half a dozen others were +gathered, enjoying Allison's ludicrous struggles. His plight was not +painful, only absurd; and Irving himself could not at first keep back a +smile. But he came forward and said,-- + +"Oh, look here, fellows, whoever is responsible for this will have to +climb up and release Allison." + +Westby turned with his engaging smile. + +"Yes, but, Mr. Upton, who do you suppose is responsible? I don't see how +we can fix the responsibility, do you?" + +"I will undertake to fix it," said Irving. "Westby, suppose you climb +that ladder and let Allison down." + +"I don't think you're approaching this matter in quite a judicial +spirit, Mr. Upton," said Westby. "Of course no man wants to be +arbitrary; he wants to be just. It really seems to me, Mr. Upton, that +no action should be taken until the matter has been more thoroughly +sifted." + +The other boys, with the exception of Allison, were chuckling at this +glib persuasiveness. Westby stood there, in a calmly respectful, even +deferential attitude, as if animated only by a desire to serve the +truth. + +"We will have no argument about it, Westby," said Irving. "Please climb +the ladder at once and release Allison." + +"I beg of you, Mr. Upton," said Westby in a tone of distress, "don't, +please don't, confuse argument with impartial inquiry; nothing is more +distasteful to me than argument. I merely ask for investigation; I court +it in your own interest as well as mine." + +Irving grew rigid. His head was throbbing painfully; the continued +snickering all round him and Westby's increasing confidence and fluency +grated on his nerves. He drew out his watch. + +"I will give you one minute in which to climb that ladder," he said. + +"Mr. Upton, you wish to be a just man," pleaded Westby. "Even though you +have the great weight of authority--and years"--Westby choked a +laugh--"behind you, don't do an unjust and arbitrary thing. Allison +himself wouldn't have you--would you, Allison?" + +The victim grinned uncomfortably. + +"Mr. Upton," urged Westby, "you wouldn't have me soil these hands?" He +displayed his laudably clean, pink fingers. "Of course, if I go up there +I shall get my hands all dirty--and equally of course if I had been up +there, they would be all dirty now. Surely you believe in the value of +circumstantial evidence; therefore, before we fix the responsibility, +let us search for the dirty pair of hands." + +"Time is up," said Irving, closing his watch. + +"But what is time when justice trembles in the balance?" argued Westby. +"When the innocent is in danger of being punished for the guilty, when--" + +"Westby, please climb that ladder at once." + +"So young and so inexorable!" murmured Westby, setting his foot upon the +ladder. + +Irving's face was red; the tittering of the audience was making him +angry. He held his eyes on Westby, who made a slow, grunting progress up +three rungs and then stopped. + +"Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, sir!" Westby's voice was ingratiating. "Mayn't +Allison sing for us, sir?" + +Allison grinned again foolishly and sent a sprawling foot out towards +his persecutor; the others laughed. + +"Keep on climbing," said Irving. + +Westby resumed his toilsome way, and as he moved he kept murmuring +remarks to Allison, to the others, to Irving himself, half audible, +rapid, in an aggrieved tone. + +"Don't see why you want to be conspicuous this way, Allison.--Won't +sing--amuse anybody--ornamental, I suppose--good timekeeper though--almost +hear you tick. Mr. Upton--setting watch by you now--awfully severe kind of +man--" + +So mumbling, with the responsive titter still continuing below and +Irving standing there stern and red, Westby disappeared into the loft. +There was a moment's silence, then a sudden clicking of a ratchet wheel, +and Allison began to rise rapidly towards the ceiling. + +"A-ay!" cried Allison in amazement. + +The boys burst out in delighted laughter. + +"Westby! Westby! Stop that!" Irving's voice was shrill with anger. + +Allison became stationary once more, and Westby displayed an innocent, +surprised face at the loft opening. + +"If there is any more nonsense in letting Allison down, I shall really +have to report you." Irving's voice rose tremulously to a high key; he +was trying hard to control it. + +Westby gazed down with surprise. "Why, I guess I must have turned the +crank the wrong way, don't you suppose I did, Mr. Upton?--Don't worry, +Allison, old man; I'll rescue you, never fear. I'll try to lower you +gently, so that you won't get hurt; you'll call out if you find you're +coming down too fast, won't you?" + +He withdrew his head, and presently the ratchet wheel clicked and +slowly, very slowly, Allison began to descend. When his feet were a +couple of inches from the floor, the descent stopped. + +"All right now?" called Westby from above. + +"No!" bawled Allison. + +"Ve-ry gently then, ve-ry gently," replied Westby; and Allison, reaching +for the floor with his toes, had at last the satisfaction of feeling it. +He wriggled out of the noose and smoothed out his rumpled coat. + +"Saved!" exclaimed Westby, peering down from the opening, and then he +added sorrowfully, "Saved, and no word of gratitude to his rescuer!" + +"Now, boys, don't stand round here any longer; we've had enough +nonsense; go to your rooms," said Irving. + +"Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, sir!" clamored Westby, and the boys +lingered. + +Irving looked up in exasperation. "What is it now?" + +"May I come down, please, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Carefully Westby descended the ladder, mumbling all the time sentences +of which the lingerers caught fragmentary scraps: "Horrible experience +that of Allison's--dreadful situation to have been in--so fortunate that I +was at hand--the man who dares--reckless courage, ready resource--home +again!" He dropped to the floor, and raising his hand to his forehead, +saluted Irving. + +"Come, move on, all you fellows," said Irving; the others were still +hanging about and laughing; "move on, move on! Carroll, you and Westby +take that ladder down and put it back where you got it." + +He stayed to see that the order was carried out; then he returned to his +room. He felt that though he had conquered in this instance, he had +adopted the wrong tone, and that he must offer something else than +peevishness and irritation to ward off Westby's humor; already it gave +indications of becoming too audacious. Yet on the whole Irving was +pleased because he had at least asserted himself--and had rather enjoyed +doing it. And an hour later it seemed to him that he had lost all that +he had gained. + +Roast beef was the unvarying dish at Sunday dinner; a large and fragrant +sirloin was set before the head of each table to be carved. Irving took +up the carving knife and fork with some misgivings. Hitherto he had had +nothing more difficult to deal with than steaks or chops or croquettes +or stews; and carving was an art that he had never learned; confronted +by the necessity, he was amazed to find that he had so little idea of +how to proceed. The first three slices came off readily enough, though +they were somewhat ragged, and Irving was aware that Westby was +surveying his operations with a critical interest. The knife seemed to +grow more dull, the meat more wobbly, more tough, the bone got more and +more in the way; the maid who was passing the vegetables was waiting, +all the boys except the three who had been helped first were waiting, +coldly critical, anxiously apprehensive; silence at this table had begun +to reign. + +Irving felt himself blushing and muttered, "This knife's awfully dull," +as he sawed away. At last he hacked off an unsightly slab and passed it +to Westby, whose turn it was and who wrinkled his nose at it in +disfavor. + +"Please have this knife sharpened," Irving said to the maid. She put +down the potatoes and the corn, and departed with the instrument to the +kitchen. + +Irving glanced at the other tables; everybody seemed to have been +served, everybody was eating; Scarborough, who was in charge of the next +table, had entirely demolished his roast. + +"I'm sorry to keep you fellows waiting," Irving said, "but that's the +dullest knife I ever handled." + +He addressed the remark to the totally unprovided side of his table; he +turned his head just in time to catch Westby's humorous mouth and droll +droop of an eyelid. The other boys smiled, and Irving's cheeks grew more +hot. + +"You'll excuse me, Mr. Upton, if I don't wait, won't you?" said Westby. +"Don't get impatient, fellows." + +The maid returned with the carving knife; Westby paused in his eating to +observe. Irving made another unsuccessful effort; the meat quivered and +shook and slid under his attack, and the knife slipped and clashed down +upon the platter. + +"Perhaps if you would stand up to it, sir, you would do better," +suggested Westby, in an insidious voice. "Nobody else does, but if it +would be easier--" + +"Thank you, but the suggestion is unnecessary," Irving retorted. He +added to the other boys, while he struggled, "It's the meat, I guess, +not the knife, after all--" + +"Why, I shouldn't say it was the meat," interposed Westby. "The meat's +quite tender." + +Irving glanced at him in silent fury, clamped his lips together, and +went on sawing. He finally was able to hand to Carroll a plate on which +reposed a mussy-looking heap of beef. Carroll wrinkled his nose over it +as Westby had done. + +"If I might venture to suggest, sir," said Westby politely, "you could +send it out and have it carved in the kitchen." + +Irving surrendered; he looked up and said to the maid,-- + +"Please take this out and have it carved outside." + +He felt that he could almost cry from the humiliation, but instead he +tried to assume cheerfulness and dignity. + +"I'm sorry," he said, "to have to keep you fellows waiting; we'll try to +arrange things so that it won't happen again." + +The boys accepted the apology in gloomy silence. At Scarborough's table +their plight was exciting comment; Irving was aware of the curious +glances which had been occasioned by the withdrawal of the roast. It +seemed to him that he was publicly disgraced; there was a peculiar +ignominy in sitting at the head of a table and being unable to perform +the simplest duty of host. Worst of all, in the encounter with Westby he +had lost ground. + +The meat was brought on again, sliced in a manner which could not +conceal the unskillfulness of the original attack. + +"Stone cold!" exclaimed Blake, the first boy to test it. + +Irving's temper flew up. "Don't be childish," he said. "And don't make +any more comments about this matter. It's of no importance--and cold +roast beef is just as good for you as hot." + +"If not a great deal better," added Westby with an urbanity that set +every one snickering. + +After dinner Irving was again on duty for two hours in the dormitory, +until the time for afternoon chapel. During part of this period the boys +were expected to be in their rooms, preparing the Bible lesson which had +to be recited after chapel to the rector. Irving made the rounds and +saw that each boy was in his proper quarters, then went to his own room. +For an hour he enjoyed quiet. Then the bell rang announcing that the +study period was at an end. Instantly there was a commotion in the +corridors--legitimate enough; but soon it centred in the north wing and +grew more and more clamorous, more and more mirthful. + +With a sigh Irving went forth to quell it. He determined that whatever +happened he would not this time lose his temper; he would try to be +persuasive and yet firm. + +The noise was in Allison's room; the unfortunate Allison was again being +persecuted. Loud whoops of laughter and the sound of vigorous scuffling, +of tumbling chairs and pounding feet, came to Irving's ears. The door to +Allison's room was wide open; Irving stood and looked upon a pile of +bodies heaped on the bed, with struggling arms and legs; even in that +moment the foot of the iron bedstead collapsed, and the pile rolled off +upon the floor. There were Morrill and Carroll and Westby and Dennison +and at the bottom Allison--all looking very much rumpled, very red. + +"Oh, come, fellows!" said Irving in what he intended to make an +appealing voice. "Less noise, less noise--or I shall really have to +report you--I shall really!" + +But he did not speak with any confidence; his manner was hesitating, +almost deprecating. The boys grinned at him and then sauntered, rather +indifferently, out of the room. + +There was no more disorder that day. But some hours later, when Irving +came up to the dormitory before supper, he heard laughter in the west +wing, where Collingwood and Westby and Scarborough had their rooms. Then +he heard Westby's voice, raised in an effeminate, pleading tone: "Less +noise, fellows, less noise--or I shall have to report you--I shall +really!" + +There was more laughter at the mimicry, and Irving heard Collingwood +ask, + +"Where did you get that, Wes?" + +"Oh, from Kiddy--this afternoon." + +"Poor Kiddy! He seemed to be having an awful time at noon over that +roast beef." + +"He's such a dodo--he's more fun than a goat. I can put him up in the air +whenever I want to," boasted Westby. "He's the easiest to get rattled I +ever saw. I'm going to play horse with him in class to-morrow." + +"How?" asked Collingwood; and Irving basely pricked up his ears. + +"Oh, you'll see." + +Irving closed the door of his room quietly. "We'll see, will we?" he +muttered, pacing back and forth. "Yes, I guess some one will see." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BAITING OF A MASTER + + +The room in which the Sixth Form assembled for the lesson in Geometry +was on the top floor of the Study building; the windows overlooked the +pond behind the Gymnasium. The teacher's desk was on a platform in the +corner; a blackboard extended along two walls; and there were steps +beneath the blackboard on which the students stood to make their +demonstrations. + +Irving arrived a minute before the hour and found his class already +assembled--a suspicious circumstance. There was, too, he felt, an air of +subdued, joyous expectancy. He took his seat and, adjusting his +spectacles, peered round the room; his eyesight was very bad, and he +had, moreover, like so many bookworms, never trained his faculty of +observation. + +He read the roll of the class; every boy was there. + +"Scarborough, you may go to the blackboard and demonstrate the Fifth +Theorem; Dennison, you the Sixth; Westby, you the Eighth. The rest of +you will solve at your seats this problem." + +He mounted to the blackboard himself and wrote out the question. While +he had his back turned, he heard some whispering; he looked over his +shoulder. Westby was lingering in his seat and had obviously been +holding communication with his neighbor. + +"Westby,"--Irving's voice was sharp,--"were you trying to get help at the +last moment?" + +"I was not." Westby's answer was prompt. + +"Then don't delay any longer, please; go to the blackboard at once." + +"Yes, sir." + +Westby moved to the blackboard on the side of the room--the one at right +angles to that on which Irving and Scarborough were at work. + +Irving finished his writing, dusted the chalk from his fingers, and +returned to his seat. The boys before him were now bent industriously +over their tablets; Scarborough, Westby, and Dennison were drawing +figures on the blackboard, using the long pointers for rulers and making +beautiful circles by means of chalk attached to pieces of string. A +glance at Westby showed that youth apparently intent upon solving the +problem assigned him and at work upon it intelligently. Irving began to +feel serene; he proceeded to correct the algebra exercises of the Fourth +Form, which he had received the hour before. + +A sudden titter from some one down in front, hastily suppressed and +transformed into a cough, caused him to look up. Morrill, with his mouth +hidden behind his hand, was glancing off toward Westby, and Irving +followed the direction of the glance. + +Westby had completed his geometrical figures and was now engaged in +labeling them with letters. But instead of employing the usual +geometrical symbols A, B, C, and so on, he was skipping about through +the alphabet, and Irving immediately perceived that he was not choosing +letters at random. Irving observed that the initials of his own name, I, +C, U, formed, as it were, the corner-stone of the geometrical edifice. + +At that moment Westby coughed--an unnatural cough. And instantly a +miracle happened; every single wooden eraser--there were half a dozen of +them--leaped from its place on the shelf beneath the blackboard and +tumbled clattering down the steps to the floor. At the same instant +Westby flung up both arms, tottered on the topmost step, and succeeded +in regaining his poise with apparently great difficulty. + +The class giggled. + +"Mr. Upton, sir! Mr. Upton, sir!" cried Westby excitedly. "Did you feel +the earthquake? It was very noticeable on this side of the room. Do you +think it's safe for us to stay indoors, sir? There may be another +shock!" + +"Westby," Irving's voice had a nervous thrill that for the moment +quieted the laughter, "did you cause those erasers to be pulled down?" + +"Did I cause them to be pulled down? I don't understand, sir. How could +I, sir? Six of them all at once!" + +"Bring me one of those erasers, please." + +Westby stooped; there was a sound of snapping string. Then he came +forward and presented the eraser. + +"You tied string to all these erasers, did you?" Irving examined the +fragment that still clung to the object. "And then arranged to have them +pulled down?" + +"You see how short that string is, sir; nobody could have reached it to +pull it. Didn't you feel the earthquake, sir? Didn't you see how it +almost threw me off my feet? Really, I don't believe it's quite safe to +stay here--" + +"You may be right; I shouldn't wonder at all if there was a second shock +coming to you soon," said Irving, and the subdued chuckle that went +round the class told him he had scored. "You may now demonstrate to the +class the Theorem assigned you." + +"Yes, sir." Westby turned and took up the pointer. + +"We have here," he began, "the two triangles I C U and J A Y--with the +angle I C U of the one equal to the angle J A Y of the other." The class +tittered; Westby went on glibly, bending the lath-like pointer between +his hands: "Let us now erect the angle K I D, equal to the angle I C U; +then the angle K I D will also be equal to the angle J A Y--things equal +to the same thing are equal to each other." + +Westby stopped to turn a surprised, questioning look upon the snickering +class. + +"Yes, that will do for that demonstration," said Irving. He rose from +his seat; his lips were trembling, and the laughter of the class ceased. +"You may leave the room--for your insolence--at once!" + +He had meant to be dignified and calm, but his anger had rushed to the +surface, and his words came in a voice that suggested he was on the +verge of tears. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but I don't think I quite understand," said +Westby suavely. + +"You understand well enough. I ask you to leave the room." + +"I'm afraid, Mr. Upton, that my little pleasantries--usually considered +harmless--do not commend themselves to you. But you hurt my feelings very +much, sir, when you apply such a harsh word as insolence to my whimsical +humor--" + +"I'll hold no argument with you," cried Irving; in his excitement his +voice rose thin and thrill. "Leave the room at once." + +Westby laid the pointer and the chalk on the shelf, blew the dust from +his fingers, and walked towards his seat. Irving took a step forward; +his face was white. + +"What do you mean!--What do you mean! I told you to leave the room." + +Westby faced him with composure through which showed a sneer; for the +first time the boy was displaying contempt; hitherto his attitude had +been jocose and cajoling. + +"I was going for my cap," he said, and his eyes flashed scornfully. +Then, regardless of the master's look, he continued past the row of his +classmates, took up his cap, and retraced his steps towards the door. +Irving stood watching him, with lips compressed in a stern line; the +line thinned even more when he saw Westby bestow on his friends a droll, +drooping wink of the left eyelid. + +And then, while all the class sat in silence, Westby did an audacious +thing--a thing that set every one except Irving off into a joyous titter. +He went out of the door doing the sailor's hornpipe,--right hand on +stomach, left hand on back, left hand on stomach, right hand on back, +and taking little skips as he alternated the position. And so, skipping +merrily, he disappeared down the corridor. + +Irving returned to his platform. His hands were trembling, and he felt +weak. When he spoke, he hardly knew his own voice. But he struggled to +control it, and said,-- + +"Scarborough, please go to the board and demonstrate your theorem." + +There was no more disorder in class that day; in fact, after Westby's +disappearance the boys were exceptionally well behaved. Slowly Irving +recovered his composure, yet the ordeal left him feeling as if he wanted +to shut himself up in his room and lie down. He knew that he had lost +command of his temper; he regretted the manner in which he had stormed +at Westby; but he thought nevertheless that the treatment had been +effective and therefore not entirely to be deplored. The boys had +thought him soft; he had shown them that he was not; and he determined +that from this time forth he would bear down upon them hard. If by +showing them amiability and kindliness he had failed to win their +respect, he would now compel it by ferocity. He would henceforth show no +quarter to any malefactor. + +Walking up to his room, he fell in with Barclay, who was also returning +from a class. + +"What is the extreme penalty one can inflict on a boy who misbehaves?" +he asked. + +"For a single act?" asked Barclay. + +"For one that's a climax of others--insolence, disobedience, disorder--all +heaped into one." + +Irving spoke hotly, and Barclay glanced at him with a sympathetic +interest. + +"Well," said Barclay, "three sheets and six marks off in decorum is +about the limit. After that happens to a boy two or three times, the +rector is likely to take a hand.--If you don't mind my saying it, +though--in my opinion it's a mistake to start in by being extreme." + +"In ordinary cases, perhaps." Irving's tone did not invite questioning, +and he did not confide to Barclay what extraordinary case he had under +consideration. + +When he reached his room, he wrote out on a slip of paper, "Westby, +insolence and disorder in class, three sheets," and laid the paper on +his desk. Then he undertook to correct the exercises in geometry which +had been the fruit of the Sixth Form's labors in the last hour; but +after going through five or six of them, his mind wandered; it reverted +uneasily to the thought of his future relations with those boys. He rose +and paced about the room, and hardened his heart. He would be just as +strict and stern and severe with them all as he possibly could be. When +he had them well trained, he might attempt to win their liking--if that +seemed any longer worth having! It did not seem so to him now; all he +wanted to know now was that he had awakened in them respect and fear. + +Respect and fear--could he have inspired those, by his excitable +shriekings in the class room, by his lack of self-control in dormitory +and at the dinner table, by his incompetence when confronted with a +roast of beef! Each incident that recurred to him was of a kind to bring +with it the sting of mortification; his cheeks tingled. He must at least +learn how to perform the simple duties expected of a master; he could +not afford to continue giving exhibitions of ignorance and incompetence. + +Moved by this impulse, he descended to the kitchen--precincts which he +had never before entered and in which his appearance created at first +some consternation. The cook, however, was obliging; and when he had +confessed himself the incapable one who had sent out the mutilated beef +to be carved, she was most reassuring in her speech, and taking the cold +remains of a similar cut from the ice chest, she gave him an object +lesson. She demonstrated to him how he should begin the attack, how he +might foil the bone that existed only to baffle, how slice after slice +might fall beneath his sure and rapid slashes. + +"I see," said Irving, taking the knife and fork from her and making some +imaginary passes. "The fork so--the knife so. And you will always be sure +to have a sharp carving knife for me--very sharp?" + +The cook smiled and promised, and he extravagantly left her +contemplating a dollar bill. + +Shortly after he had returned to his room the bell on the Study building +rang, announcing the end of the morning session. There was half an hour +before luncheon; soon the boys came tramping up the stairs and past +Irving's closed door. Soon also a racketing began in the corridors; +Irving suspected an intention to bait him still further; it was +probably Westby once again. He waited until the noise became too great +to be ignored--shouting and battering and scuffling; then he went forth +to quell it. + +To his surprise Westby was not engaged in the disturbance--was, in fact, +not visible. Collingwood, with his back turned, was in the act of +hurling a football to the farther end of the corridor, where Scarborough +and Morrill and Dennison were gathered. The forward pass was new in +football this year, and although the playing season had not yet begun, +Irving had already seen fellows practicing for it, in front of the Study +and behind the dormitory. Collingwood, he knew, was captain of the +school football eleven, and naturally had all the latest developments of +the game, such as the forward pass, very much on his mind. Still that +was no excuse for playing football in the corridor. + +Morrill had caught the ball, and as Irving approached, undertook to +return it. But it ricochetted against the wall and bounced down at +Collingwood's feet. Collingwood seized it and was poising it in his hand +for another throw when Irving spoke behind him--sharply, for he was +mindful of his resolve to be severe:-- + +"No more of that, Collingwood." + +The boy turned eagerly and said,-- + +"Oh, Mr. Upton, I'm just getting on to how to do it. Here, let me show +you. You take it this way, along the lacings--the trouble is, my hand's +not quite long enough to get a good grip--and then you take it like +this--" + +"Yes," said Irving coldly; he had an idea that Collingwood had adopted +Westby's method and was engaged in chaffing him. "You needn't show me." + +And he turned abruptly and went into his room, closing the door behind +him. + +Collingwood stood, looking round over his shoulder after Irving and +holding the ball out in the arrested attitude of one about to throw. On +his face was an expression of utter amazement, which rapidly gave place +to indignation. Collingwood had a temper, and sometimes--even when he +was not on the football field--it flared up. + +"Of all the chumps!" he muttered; and he turned, and poising the ball +again, flung it with all his strength at the master's door. It went +straight to the mark, crashed against the upper panel with a tremendous +bang, and rebounded to Collingwood's feet. + +Irving opened the door and came out with a leap. + +"Collingwood," he cried, and his voice was quivering as it had quivered +that morning in class, "did you throw that ball?" + +"I did," said Collingwood. + +"Very well. I shall report you. I will have no more of this insolence." + +He swung round and shut himself again in his room. The fellows at the +other end of the corridor had stood aghast; now they came hurrying up. +Collingwood was laughing. + +"Kiddy's getting to be a regular lion," he said, and when Morrill and +Dennison were for expressing their indignation, he only laughed the +more. + +It was not very pleasant for Irving at luncheon. Westby gave him an +amused glance when he came in--more amused than hostile--and Irving +preserved his dignity by returning an unflinching look. Westby made no +further overtures for a while; the other boys chattered among +themselves, about football and tennis, and Irving sat silent at the head +of the table. At last, however, Westby turned to him. + +"Mr. Upton," said Westby deferentially, "how would you explain this? +There's a dog, and he must be doing one of two things; either he's +running or he's not running. If he's not doing the one, he is doing the +other, isn't he?" + +"I suppose so," said Irving. + +"Well, he's not running. Therefore--he is running. How do you explain +that, Mr. Upton?" + +Irving smiled feebly; the other boys were thinking it over with puzzled +faces. + +"That's an old quibble," said Irving. "The alternative for running is +not running. Therefore when he's not running--he's _not_ running." + +"I don't see that that explains it," answered Westby. "That's just +making a statement--but it isn't logic." + +"He's not running is the negative of he's running; he's not not-running +is the negative of he's not running--" + +"Then," said Westby, "how fast must a dog travel that is not not-running +to catch a dog that is not exactly running but only perhaps?" + +The boys laughed; Irving retorted, "That's a problem that you might work +out on the blackboard sometime." + +Thereupon Westby became silent, and Irving more than half repented of +his speech; he knew that in its reference it had been ill-natured. + +He noticed later in the day when he went up to the dormitory that the +boys tiptoed about the corridors and conversed in whispers; there was an +extravagant air of quiet. When they went down to supper, they tiptoed +past Irving's room in single file, saying in unison, "Sh! Sh! Sh!" They +all joined in this procession--from Collingwood to Allison. Irving felt +that he had taken Allison's place as the laughing-stock, the butt of the +dormitory. + +In the evening they came to bid him good-night--not straggling up as they +usually did, but in a delegation, expectant and amused. Westby and +Collingwood were in the van when Irving opened his door in response to +the knock. + +"We didn't know whether you'd shake hands with two such reprobates or +not," said Westby. "We thought it wasn't quite safe to come up alone--so +we've brought a bodyguard." + +Irving did not smile, though, all the boys were grinning. He shook hands +formally with Collingwood, then with Westby, then with the others, +saying good-night to each; as they left him, they tiptoed to their +rooms. He thought grimly that, whatever might be the sentiments +entertained towards him, he would not long be living in an atmosphere of +ridicule. + +Irving had charge of the "big study," as it was called, during the hour +immediately after morning chapel. The boys filed in from chapel and +seated themselves at their desks; the members of the Sixth Form, who +were privileged to study in their rooms and therefore had no desks in +the schoolroom, occupied the stalls along the wall under the big clock. +Last of all the rector entered and, mounting the platform, read the +"reports" for the day--that is, the names of those who had transgressed +and the penalties imposed. After the reading, the Sixth Form went +upstairs to their Latin class with Mr. Barclay, and the day's work +began. + +On the morning following his encounters with Westby and with +Collingwood, Irving as usual took charge of the Study. The boys +assembled; Irving rang the bell, reducing them to quiet; Dr. Davenport +came in, mounted the platform, and took up the report book--in which +Irving had just finished transcribing his entries. + +Dr. Davenport began reading in his clear, emphatic voice, "Out of +bounds, Mason, Sterrett, Coyle, one sheet; late to study, Hart, +McQuiston, Durfee, Stratton, Kane, half a sheet; tardy to breakfast--" +and so on. None of the offenses were very serious; and the rector read +them out rapidly. But at last he paused a moment; and then, looking up +from the book, he said, with grave distinctness, "Disorderly in class +and insolent, Westby, three sheets; disorderly in dormitory and +insolent, Collingwood, three sheets." + +He closed the book; a stir, a thrill of interest, ran round the room. +For a Sixth Former to be charged with such offenses and condemned to +such punishment was rare: for Collingwood, who was in a sense the leader +of the school, to be so charged and punished was unprecedented. + +Collingwood, sitting directly under the clock, and facing so many +curious questioning eyes, turned red; Westby, standing by the door, +looked at him and smiled. At the same time, Dr. Davenport, closing the +report-book, leaned towards Irving and said quietly in his ear,-- + +"Mr. Upton, I should like to see you about those last two +reports--immediately after this study hour." + +Irving reddened; the rector's manner was not approving. + +Dr. Davenport descended from the platform and walked slowly down the +aisle. As he approached, he looked straight at Westby; and Westby +returned the look steadily--as if he was ashamed of nothing. + +The rector passed through the doorway; the Sixth Form followed; the +day's work began. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MASTER TURNS PUPIL + + +The rector received Irving with a smile. "Well," he said, "I think you +must be a believer in the maxim, 'Hit hard and hit first.' Would you +mind telling me what was the trouble?" + +"It wasn't so much any one thing," replied Irving. "It was a culmination +of little things.--Oh, I suppose I started in wrong with the fellows +somehow." + +He was silent for a moment, in dejection. + +"A good many do that," said Dr. Davenport. "There would be small +progress in the world if there never was any rectifying of false +starts." + +"I can hardly help it if I look young," said Irving. "That's one of my +troubles. I suppose I ought to avoid acting young. I haven't, +altogether. They call me Kiddy." + +"We get hardened to nicknames," observed the rector. "But often they're +affectionate. At least I like to cherish that delusion with regard to +mine; my legs have the same curve as Napoleon's, and I have been known +as 'Old Hoopo' for years." + +"But they don't call you that to your face." + +"No, not exactly. Have they been calling you 'Kiddy' to your face?" + +"It amounts to that." Irving narrated the remarks that he had overheard +in dormitory, and then described Westby's performance at the blackboard. + +"That certainly deserved rebuke," agreed the rector. "Though I think +Westby was attempting to be facetious rather than insolent; I have never +seen anything to indicate that he was a malicious boy.--What was it that +Louis Collingwood did?" + +Irving recited the offense. + +"Weren't you a little hasty in assuming that he was trying to tease +you?" asked the rector. "When he persisted in wanting to show you how +the forward pass is made? I think it's quite likely he was sincere; he's +so enthusiastic over football that it doesn't occur to him that others +may not share his interest. I don't think Collingwood was trying to be +'fresh.' Of course, he shouldn't have lost his temper and banged the +ball at your door--but I think that hardly showed malice." + +"It seemed to me it was insolent--and disorderly. I felt the fellows all +thought they could do anything with me and I would be afraid to report +them. And so I thought I'd show them I wasn't afraid." + +"At the same time, three sheets is the heaviest punishment, short of +actual suspension, that we inflict. It seems hardly a penalty for +heedless or misguided jocularity." + +"I think perhaps I was hard on Collingwood," admitted Irving. + +"If he comes to you about it--maybe you'll feel disposed to modify the +punishment. And possibly the same with Westby." + +"I don't feel sure that I've been too hard on Westby." + +The rector smiled; he was not displeased at this trace of stubbornness. + +"Well, I won't advise you any further about that. Use your own judgment. +It takes time for a young man to get his bearings in a place like +this.--If you don't mind my saying it," added the rector mildly, +"couldn't you be a little more objective in your interests?" + +"You mean," said Irving, "less--less self-centred?" + +"That's it." The rector smiled. + +"I'll try," said Irving humbly. + +"All right; good luck." The rector shook hands with him and turned to +his desk. + +There was no disturbance in the Mathematics class that day. Irving hoped +that after the hour Westby and Collingwood might approach him to discuss +the justice of the reports which he had given them, and so offer him an +opportunity of lightening the punishment. But in this he was +disappointed. Nor did they come to him in the noon recess--the usual time +for boys who felt themselves wronged to seek out the masters who had +wronged them. + +Irving debated with himself the advisability of going to the two boys +and voluntarily remitting part of their task. But he decided against +this; to make the advances and the concession both would be to concede +too much. + +At luncheon there was an unpleasant moment. No sooner had the boys sat +down than Blake, a Fifth Former, called across the table to Westby,-- + +"Say, Westby, who was it that gave you three sheets?" + +Westby scowled and replied,-- + +"Mr. Upton." + +"What for?" + +"Oh, ask him." + +Irving reddened, aware of the glancing, curious gaze of every boy at the +table. There was an interesting silence, relieved at last by the +appearance of the boy with the mail. Among the letters, Irving found one +from Lawrence; he opened it with a sense that it afforded him a +momentary refuge. The unintended irony of the first words drew a bitter +smile to his lips. + +"You are certainly a star teacher," Lawrence wrote, "and I know now what +a success you must be making with your new job. I have just learned that +I passed all the examinations--which is more than you or I ever dreamed I +could do--so I am now a freshman at Harvard without conditions. And it's +all due to you; I don't believe there's another man on earth that could +have got me through with such a record and in so short a time." + +Irving forgot the irony, forgot Westby and Collingwood and the amused, +whispering boys. Happiness had suddenly flashed down and caught him up +and borne him away to his brother. Lawrence's whole letter was so gay, +so exultant, so grateful that Irving, when he finished it, turned back +again to the first page. When at last he raised his eyes from it, they +dwelt unseeingly upon the boys before him; they held his brother's +image, his brother's smile. And from the vision he knew that there at +least he had justified himself, whatever might be his failure now; and +if he had succeeded once, he could succeed again. + +Irving became aware that Westby was treating him with cheerful +indifference--ignoring him. He did not care; the letter had put into him +new courage. And pretty soon there woke in him along with this courage a +gentler spirit; it was all very well for Westby, a boy and therefore +under discipline, to exhibit a stiff and haughty pride; but it was +hardly admirable that a master should maintain that attitude. The +punishment to which he had sentenced Westby and Collingwood was, it +appeared, too harsh; if they were so proud that they would not appeal to +him to modify it, he would make a sacrifice in the interest of justice. + +So after luncheon he followed Westby and spoke to him outside of the +dining-room. + +"Westby," he said, "do you think that considering the circumstances +three sheets is excessive?" + +Westby looked surprised; then he shrugged his shoulders. + +"I'm not asking any favors," he replied. + +Irving laughed. "No," he said, "I see you're not. But I'm afraid I must +deny you the pleasure of martyrdom. I'll ask you to take a note to Mr. +Elwood--he's in charge of the Study, isn't he? I'll tell him that you're +to write a sheet and a half instead of three sheets." + +He drew a note-book from his pocket and tore out one of the pages. +Westby looked at him curiously--as if in an effort to determine just how +poor-spirited this sudden surrender was. Irving spoke again before +writing. + +"By the way, will you please ask Collingwood to come here?" + +When Westby returned with Collingwood, Irving had the note written and +handed it to him; there was no excuse for Westby to linger. He went over +and waited by the door, while Irving said,-- + +"Collingwood, why didn't you come up and ask me to reduce your report? +Didn't you think it was unfair?" + +"Yes," Collingwood answered promptly. + +"Well, then--why didn't you come to me and say so?" + +Collingwood thought a moment. + +"Well," he said, "you had such fun in soaking me that I wasn't going to +give you the additional satisfaction of seeing me cry baby." + +"I'll learn something about boys sometime--if you fellows will keep on +educating me," observed Irving. "I think your performance of yesterday +deserves about a sheet; we'll make it that." + +He scribbled a note and handed it to the boy. + +"Thank you, Mr. Upton." Collingwood tucked the note into his pocket with +a friendly smile, and then joined Westby. + +"Knock you down to half a sheet?" asked Westby, as they departed in the +direction of the Study, where they were to perform their tasks. + +"No; a sheet." + +"Mine's one and a half now. What got into him?" + +"He's not without sense," said Collingwood. + +"Ho!" Westby was derisive. "He's soft. He got scared. He knew he'd gone +too far--and he was afraid to stand by his guns." + +"I don't think so. I think he's just trying to do the right thing." + +It was unfortunate for Irving that later in the afternoon Carter of the +Fifth Form--who played in the banjo club with Westby--was passing the +Study building just as Westby was coming out from his confinement. + +"Hello, Wes!" said Carter. "Thought you were in for three sheets; how do +you happen to be at large so soon?" + +"Kiddy made it one and a half--without my asking him," said Westby. + +"And Collingwood the same?" + +"He made his only a sheet." + +"That's it," said Carter shrewdly. "I was waiting to see the rector this +morning; the door was open, and he had Kiddy in there with him. I guess +he was lecturing him on those reports; I guess he told him he'd have to +take off a couple of sheets." + +"I shouldn't wonder," said Westby. "I don't believe old Hoopo would +have interfered much on my account,--but I guess he couldn't stand for +Lou Collingwood getting three sheets. And Kiddy, the fox, tried to make +us think he was being magnanimous!" + +Westby chuckled over his humorous discovery, and as soon as possible +imparted it to Collingwood. + +"Oh, well, what if the rector did make him do it?" said Collingwood. +"The way he did it shows he's all right--" + +"Trying to get the credit with us for being just and generous!" observed +Westby. "Oh, I don't mind; of course it's only Kiddy." + +And it was Westby's view of the matter which most of the boys heard and +credited. So the improvement in the general attitude for which Irving +had hoped was hardly to be noticed. He had some gratification the next +Sunday when the roast beef was brought on and he carved it with +creditable ease and dispatch; the astonishment of the whole table, and +especially of Westby and Carroll, was almost as good as applause. He +could not resist saying, in a casual way, "The knife seems to be sharp +this Sunday." And he felt that for once Westby was nonplussed. + +But the days passed, and Irving felt that he was not getting any nearer +to the boys. At his table the talk went on before him, mainly about +athletics, about college life, about Europe and automobiles,--all topics +from which he seemed strangely remote. It needed only the talk of these +experienced youths to make him realize that he had gone through college +without ever touching "college life,"--its sports, its social diversions, +its adventures. It had been for him a life in a library, in classrooms, +in his own one shabby little room,--a cloistered life; in the hard work +of it and the successful winning of his way he had been generally +contented and happy. But he could not talk to these boys about "college +life" as it appeared to them; and they very soon, perhaps by common +consent, eliminated him from the conversation. Nor was he able to cope +with Westby in the swift, glancing monologues which flowed on and on +sometimes, to the vast amusement of the audience. Often to Irving these +seemed not very funny, and he did not know which was the more trying--to +sit grave and unconcerned in the midst of so much mirth or to keep his +mouth stretched in an insincere, wooden smile. Whichever he did, he felt +that Westby always was taking notes, to ridicule him afterwards to the +other boys. + +One habit which Westby had was that of bringing a newspaper to supper +and taking the table with him in an excursion over headlines and +advertising columns. His mumbling manner, his expertness in bringing out +distinctly a ridiculous or incongruous sentence, and his skill in +selecting such sentences at a glance always drew attention and applause; +he had the comedian's technique. + +The boys at the neighboring tables, hearing so much laughter and seeing +that Westby was provoking it, would stop eating and twist round and tilt +back their chairs and strain their ears eagerly for some fragment of the +fun. At last at the head table Mr. Randolph took cognizance of this +daily boisterousness, spoke to Irving about it, and asked him to curb +it. Irving thereupon suggested to Westby that he refrain from reading +his newspaper at table. + +"But all the fellows depend on me to keep them _au courant_, as it +were." Westby was fond of dropping into French in his arguments with +Irving. + +"You will have to choose some other time for it," Irving answered. "I +understand that there is a rule against reading newspapers at table, and +I think it must be observed." + +"Oh, very well,--_de bon coeur_," said Westby. + +The next day at supper he appeared without his newspaper. But in the +course of the meal he drew from his pocket some newspaper clippings +which he had pasted together and which he began to read in his usual +manner. Soon the boys of the table were laughing, soon the boys of the +adjacent tables were twisting round and trying to share in the +amusement. Westby read in his rapid consecutive way,-- + +"'Does no good unless taken as directed--pain in the back, loins, or +region of the kidneys--danger signal nature hangs out--um--um--um. Mother +attacks son with razor, taking tip of left ear. Catcher Dan McQuilligan +signs with the Red Sox--The Woman Beautiful--Bright Eyes: Every woman is +entitled to a clear, brilliant complexion--um--if she is not so blessed, +it is usually her own fault--um--Candidate for pulchritude: reliable +beauty shop--do not clip the eyelashes--um.--Domestic science column--Baked +quail: pick, draw, and wipe the bird outside and inside; use a wet +cloth.--No, Hortense, it is not necessary to offer a young man +refreshments during an evening call.'" + +Westby was going on and on; he had a hilarious audience now of three +tables. From the platform at the end of the dining-room Mr. Randolph +looked down and shook his head--shook it emphatically; and Irving, seeing +it, understood the signal. + +"Westby," said Irving. "Westby!" He had to raise his voice. + +"Yes, sir?" Westby looked up innocently. + +"I will have to ask you to discontinue your reading." + +"But this is not a newspaper." + +"It's part of one." + +"Yes, sir, but the rule is against bringing newspapers to table--not +against bringing newspaper clippings to table." + +"The rule's been changed," said Irving. "It now includes clippings." + +"You see how it is, fellows." Westby turned to the others. +"Persecuted--always persecuted. If I'm within the rules--they change the +rules to soak me. Well,"--he folded up his clippings and put them in his +pocket,--"the class in current topics is dismissed. But instead Mr. Upton +has very kindly consented to entertain us this evening--some of his +inimitable chit-chat--" + +"I wouldn't always try to be facetious, Westby," said Irving. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," replied Westby urbanely. "If I have wounded +your sensibilities--I would not do that--never--_jamais--pas du tout_." + +Irving said nothing; it seemed to him that Westby always had the last +word; it seemed to him as if Westby was always skillfully tripping him +up, executing a derisive flourish over his prostrate form, and then +prancing away to the cheers of the populace. + +But there were no more violent encounters, such as had taken place in +the class-room; Westby never quite crossed the line again; and Irving +controlled his temper on threatening occasions. These occurred in +dormitory less often; the fine weather and the fall sports--football and +tennis and track athletics--kept the boys out-doors. On rainy afternoons +there was apt to be some noise and disorder--usually there was what was +termed an "Allison hunt," which took various forms, but which, whether +resulting in the dismemberment of the boy's room or the pursuit and +battery of him with pillows along the corridors, invariably required +Irving's interference to quell it. This task of interference, though it +was one that he came to perform more and more capably, never grew less +distasteful or less humiliating; he saw always the row of faces wearing +what he construed as an impudent grin. What seemed to him curious was +the fact that Allison after a fashion enjoyed--at least did not +resent--the outrages of which he was the subject; after them he would be +found sitting amicably with his tormentors, drinking their chocolate and +eating their crackers and jam. This was so different from his own +attitude after he had been teased that Irving could not understand it. +After studying the case, he concluded that the "Allison hunts" were not +prompted by any hatred of the subject, but by the fact merely that he +was big, clumsy, good-natured, slow-witted--easy to make game of--and +especially by the fact that when aroused he showed a certain joyous rage +in his own defense. But Irving saw no way of learning a lesson from +Allison. + +As the days went on, the sense of his isolation in the School became +more oppressive. He had thought that if only the fellows would let him +alone, he would be contented; he found that was not so. They let him +alone now entirely; he envied those masters who were popular--whom boys +liked to visit on Sunday evenings, who were consulted about +contributions to the _Mirror_, the school paper, who were invited to +meetings of the Stylus, the literary society, who coached the football +elevens or went into the Gymnasium and did "stunts" with the boys on the +flying rings. + +One day when he was walking down to the athletic field with Mr. Barclay, +he said something that hinted his wistful and unhappy state of mind. +Barclay had suspected it and had been waiting for such an opportunity. + +"Why don't you make some interest for yourself which would put you on a +footing with the boys--outside of the class-room and the dormitory?" he +asked. + +"I wish I could. But how?" + +"You ought to be able to work up an interest of some sort," said Barclay +vaguely. + +"I don't know anything about athletics; I'm not musical, I don't seem to +be able to be entertaining and talk to the boys. I guess I'm just a +grind. I shall never be of much use as a teacher; it's bad enough to +feel that you're not up to your job. It's worse when it makes you feel +that you're even less up to the job that you hoped to prepare for." + +"How's that?" + +"I meant to study law; I'd like to be a lawyer. But what's the use? If I +can't learn to handle boys, how can I ever hope to handle men?--and +that's what a lawyer has to do, I suppose." + +"Look here," said Barclay. "You're still young; if you've learned what's +the matter with you--and you seem to have--you've learned more than most +fellows of your age. It's less than a month that you've been here, and +you've never had any experience before in dealing with boys. Why should +you expect to know it all at once?" + +"I suppose there's something in that. But I feel that I haven't it in me +ever to get on with them." + +"You're doing better now than you did at first; they don't look on you +entirely as a joke now, do they?" + +"Perhaps not.--Oh," Irving broke out, "I know what the trouble is--I want +to be liked--and I suppose I'm not the likeable kind." + +Barclay did not at once dispute this statement, and Irving was beginning +to feel hurt. + +"The point is," said Barclay at last, "that to be liked by boys you've +got to like them. If you hold off from them and distrust them and try to +wrap yourself up in a cloak of dignity or mystery, they won't like you +because they won't know you. If you show an interest in them and their +interests, you can be as stern with them as justice demands, and they +won't lay it up against you. But if you don't show an interest--why, you +can't expect them to have an interest in you." + +They turned a bend in the road; the athletic field lay spread out before +them. In different parts of it half a dozen football elevens were +engaged in practice; on the tennis courts near the athletic house boys +in white trousers and sweaters were playing; on the track encircling +the football field other boys more lightly clad were sprinting or +jogging round in practice for long-distance runs; a few sauntered about +as spectators, with hands in their overcoat pockets. + +"There," said Barclay, indicating a group of these idle observers, "you +can at least do that." + +"But what's the use?" + +"Make yourself a critic; pick out eight or ten fellows to watch +especially. In football or tennis or running. It doesn't much matter. If +they find you're taking an intelligent interest in what they're doing, +they'll be pleased. Westby, for instance, is running; he's entered for +the hundred yards in the fall games,--likely to win it, too. Westby's +your greatest trial, isn't he? Then why don't you make a point of +watching him?--Not too obviously, of course. Come round with me; I'm +coaching some of the runners for the next half-hour, and then +Collingwood wants me to give his ends a little instruction." + +"Dear me! If I'd only been an athlete instead of a student in college!" +sighed Irving whimsically. + +"You don't need to be much of an athlete to coach; I never was so very +much," confided Barclay. "But there are things you can learn by looking +on." They had reached the edge of the track; Barclay clapped his hands. +"No, no, Roberts!" The boy who was practising the start for a sprint +looked up. "You mustn't reel all over the track that way when you start; +you'd make a foul. Keep your elbows in, and run straight." + +Irving followed Barclay round and tried to grasp the significance of his +comments. Dennison came by at a trot. + +"Longer stride, Dennison! Your running's choppy! Lengthen out, lengthen +out! That's better.--I have it!" + +Barclay turned suddenly to Irving. + +"What?" + +"The thing for you to do. We'll make you an official at the track games +next week. That will give you a standing at once--show everybody that you +are really a keen follower of sport--or want to be." + +"But what can I do? I suppose an official has to do something." + +"You can be starter. That will put you right in touch with the fellows +that are entered." + +"Would I have a revolver? I've never fired a gun off in my life." + +"Then it's time you did. Of course you'll have a revolver. And you'll be +the noisiest, most important man on the field. That's what you need to +make yourself; wake the fellows up to what you really are!--Now I must be +off to my football men; you'd better hang round here and pick up what +you can about running. And remember--you're to act as starter." + +"If you'll see me through." + +"I'll see you through." + +Barclay waved his hand and swung off across the field. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE PENALTY FOR A FOUL + + +How it was managed Irving did not know, but on the morning of the day +when the fall handicap track games were held Scarborough lingered after +the Sixth Form Geometry class. Scarborough was president of the Athletic +Association. + +"We want somebody to act as starter for the races this afternoon, Mr. +Upton," said Scarborough. "I wondered if you would help us out." + +"I should be delighted," said Irving. "I've not had much experience--" + +"Oh, it's easy enough; Mr. Barclay, I guess, can tell you all that has +to be done. Thank you very much." + +It was quite as if Irving was the one who was conferring the favor; he +liked Scarborough for the way in which the boy had made the suggestion. +He always had liked him, for Scarborough had never given any trouble; he +seemed more mature than most of the boys, more mature even than Louis +Collingwood. He was not so popular, because he maintained a certain +dignity and reserve; even Westby seemed to stand somewhat in awe of +Scarborough. He was, as Irving understood, the best oarsman in the +school, captain of the school crew, besides being the crack shot-putter +and hammer-thrower; if he and Collingwood had together chosen to throw +their influence against a new master, life would indeed have been hard. +But Scarborough's attitude had been one of entire indifference; he would +stand by and smile sometimes when Westby was engaged in chaffing Irving, +and then, as if tired of it, he would turn his back and walk away. + +Irving visited Barclay at his house during the noon recess, borrowed his +revolver, and received the last simple instructions. + +"Make sure always that they're all properly 'set' before you fire. If +there's any fouling at the start, you can call them back and penalize +the fellow that fouled--a yard to five yards, according to your +discretion. But there's not likely to be any fouling; in most of the +events the fellows are pretty well separated by their handicaps." + +"I'll be careful," said Irving. He inspected the revolver. "It's all +loaded?" + +"Yes--and there are some blank cartridges. Now, you're all equipped. If +any questions come up--I'll be down at the field; I'm to be one of the +judges and you can call on me." + +At luncheon Irving entered into the talk about the sports to come, +without giving any intimation as to the part which he was to play. + +"They've given Heath only thirty yards over Lou Collingwood," complained +Westby. + +"I thought Lou wasn't going to run, because of football; he hasn't been +practising," said Carroll. + +"I know, but the Pythians have got hold of him, and Dennison's persuaded +him it's his duty to run. And I guess he's good enough without practice +to win from scratch--giving that handicap!" + +"Is Dennison the captain of the Pythian track team?" asked Irving. + +"Yes." + +"And who's captain of yours--the Corinthians?" + +"Ned Morrill." + +"Morrill's going awfully fast in the quarter now," said Blake. "I timed +him yesterday." + +"They've handicapped him pretty hard. And he's apt to be just a shade +late in starting--just as Dave Pratt is apt to be just a shade previous," +said Westby. "It ought to be a close race between those two." + +"How much does Pratt get over Morrill?" + +"Five yards. And if he steals another yard on the start--" + +"Dave wouldn't steal it," exclaimed Blake indignantly. "You Corinthians +would accuse a man of anything!" + +"Oh, I don't mean that he'd do it intentionally," replied Westby. "But +he's so overanxious and eager always--and he's apt to get away without +realizing--without the starter realizing.--I wonder who's going to be +starter, by the way?" + +Nobody knew; Irving did not enlighten them. + +Westby bethought him to ask the same question of Scarborough half an +hour later, when they were dressing in the athletic house. + +"Mr. Upton has consented to serve," said Scarborough gravely. + +Westby thumped himself down on a bench, dangling one spiked running shoe +by the string. + +"What! Kiddy!" + +"The same," said Scarborough. + +Westby said nothing more; he stooped and put on his shoe, and then he +rose and came over to Scarborough, who was untangling a knot. He passed +his hand over Scarborough's head and remarked wonderingly, "Feels +perfectly normal--strange--strange!" + +Morrill came in from outside, clapping his hands. "Corinthians out for +the mile--Heath--Price--Bolton--Edwards--all ready?" + +The four named answered by clumping on their spikes to the door. + +A moment later came the Pythian call from Dennison; Collingwood and +Morse responded. The first event of the day was about to begin. Westby +leisurely brushed his hair, which had been disarranged in the process of +undressing; he was like a cat in respect of his hair and could not +endure to have it rumpled. When it was parted and plastered down to his +satisfaction, he slipped a dressing gown on over his running clothes and +went out of doors. + +The fall track meet was not of the same importance as that in the +spring, which was a scratch event. But there were cups for prizes, and +there was always much rivalry between the two athletic clubs, the +Corinthians and Pythians, as to which could show the most winners. So +for that day the football players rested from their practice; many of +them in fact were entered in the sports--though, like Collingwood, +without any special preparation. The school turned out to look on and +cheer; when Westby left the athletic house, he saw the boys lined up on +the farther side of the track. The field was reserved for contestants +and officials; already many figures in trailing dressing gowns were +wandering over it, and off at one side three or four were having a +preliminary practice in putting the shot. + +But most of those who were privileged to be on the field stood at the +farther side, where the start for the mile run was about to take place. +Westby saw Randolph and Irving kneeling by the track, measuring off the +handicap distances with a tape line; Barclay walked along it, and +summoned the different contestants to their places. By the time that +Westby had crossed the field, the six runners were at their stations; +there was an interval of a hundred and forty yards between Collingwood, +at scratch, and young Price of the Fourth Form. + +Westby came up and stood near Irving, and fixed him with a whimsical +smile. + +"Quite a new departure for you, isn't it, Mr. Upton?" he said. + +"I thought I'd come down and see if you can run as fast as you can talk, +Westby." Irving drew out the revolver, somewhat ostentatiously. + +"I hope you won't shoot any one with that; it looks to me as if you +ought to be careful how you handle it, sir." + +"Thank you for the advice, Westby." Irving turned from the humorist, and +raised his voice. "All ready for the mile now! On your marks! Set!" + +He held the pistol aloft and fired, and the six runners trotted away. +There is nothing very exciting about the start of a mile run, and Irving +felt that the intensity with which he had given the commands had been +rather absurd. It was annoying to think that Westby had been standing by +and finding perhaps in his nervousness a delectable subject for mockery +and derision. + +Irving walked down the track towards the finish line. He found Barclay +there holding the watch. + +"You seem to be discharging your arduous duties successfully," said +Barclay. + +"Oh, so far." Irving looked up the track; the foremost runners were +rounding the curve at the end of their first lap. He had a moment's +longing to be one of them, stretching his legs like them, trying out his +strength and speed on the smooth cinder track against others as eager as +himself. He had never done anything of that kind; hardly until now had +he ever felt the desire. Why it should come upon him now so poignantly +he did not know; but on this warm October afternoon, when the air and +the sunshine were as soft as in early September, he wished that he might +be a boy again and do the things which as a boy he had never done. To be +still young and looking on at the sports and the strife of youth, sports +and strife in which he had never borne a part--there was something +humiliating and ignoble in the thought. If he could only be for the +moment the little Fourth Former there, Price--now flying on in the lead +yet casting many fearful backward glances!--Poor child, even Irving's +inexperienced eyes told him that he could never keep that pace. + +"Go it, kid!" cried three or four older boys good-naturedly, as Price +panted by; and he threw back his head and came down more springily upon +his toes, trying in response to the cheer to display his best form. + +After him came Bolton and Edwards, side by side; and Collingwood, who +started at scratch, had moved up a little on Morse and Heath. Heath was +considered the strongest runner in the event for the Corinthians, and +they urged him on with cries of "Heath! Heath!" as he made the turn. +"You've got 'em, Lou!" shouted a group of Pythians the next moment as +Collingwood passed. It was early in the race for any great demonstration +of excitement. + +It was Price whom Irving watched with most sympathy. When he got round +on the farther side of the field, his pace had slackened perceptibly; +Bolton and Edwards passed him and kept on widening the distance; Morse +and Heath passed him at the next turn; and when he came down to the turn +in front of the crowd, running heavily, Collingwood overhauled and +passed him. It was rather an unfeeling thing for Collingwood to do, +right there in front of the crowd, but he was driven to it by force of +circumstances; the four other runners were holding on in a way he did +not like. The cries of encouragement to him and to Heath were more +urgent this time; Bolton and Edwards and Morse had their supporters too. + +Westby ran along the field beside Price, and Irving felt a moment's +indignation; was Westby taunting the plucky and exhausted small boy? And +then Irving saw that he was not, and at the same instant Barclay turned +to him and said,-- + +"Price is Westby's young cousin." + +Irving stood near enough to hear Westby say, "Good work, Tom; you set +the pace just right; it'll kill Collingwood. Now drop out." + +Price shook his head and kept on; Westby trotted beside him, saying +anxiously, "There's no use in your wearing yourself all out." But Price +continued at his determined, pounding trot. + +"He's a plucky kid," said Barclay. + +"Rather nice of Westby to take such an interest," said Irving. + +Barclay nodded. From that point on it became a close and interesting +race, yet every now and then Irving's eyes strayed to the small figure +toiling farther and farther to the rear--but always toiling. Westby stood +on the edge of the green oval, not far away, and when on the third lap +Heath came by in the lead, ran with him a few moments and shouted advice +and encouragement in his ear; he had to shout, for all the Corinthians +were shouting for Heath now, and the Pythians were shouting just as +loudly for Collingwood, who, pocketed by the two other Corinthians, +Bolton and Edwards, was running fifteen yards behind. Morse, the only +Pythian to support Collingwood, was hopelessly out of it. + +Westby left Heath and turned his eyes backward. His cousin came to the +turn, white-faced, and mouth hanging open; the crowd clapped the boy. +"Quit it, Tom!" cried Westby. "Quit it; there's no sense--" but Price +went pounding on. Westby stood looking after him with a worried frown, +and then because there was a sudden shout, he turned to look at the +others. + +There, on the farther side of the field, Collingwood had at last +extricated himself from the pocket; he was running abreast of Bolton; +Edwards had fallen behind. Heath was spurting; Collingwood passed +Bolton, but in doing so did not lessen Heath's lead--a lead of fully +fifteen yards. So they came to the last turn, to the long straight-away +home-stretch; and the crowd clustered by the finish broke and ran up +alongside the track to meet them. Every one was yelling wildly--one name +or another--"Corinthian!" "Pythian!" "Heath!" "Collingwood!" + +Barclay ran across the track with one end of the tape,--the finish line; +Mr. Randolph held the other. "Collingwood! Collingwood!" rose the shout; +Irving, standing on tiptoe, saw that Collingwood was gaining, saw that +at last he and Heath were running side by side; they held together while +the crowd ran with them shouting. Irving pressed closer to the track; +Westby in his dressing gown was jumping up and down beside him, waving +his arms; Irving had to crane his neck and peer, in order to see beyond +those loose flapping sleeves. He saw the light-haired Collingwood and +the black-haired Heath, coming down with their heads back and their +teeth bared and clenched; they were only fifteen yards away. And then +Collingwood leaped ahead; it was as if he had unloosed some latent and +unconquerable spring, which hurled him in a final burst of speed across +the tape and into half a dozen welcoming arms. Heath stumbled after him, +even more in need of such friendly services; but both of them revived +very quickly when Mr. Barclay, rushing into the crowd with the watch, +cried, "Within eight seconds of the record! Both of you fellows will +break it next June." + +The other runners came gasping in--and Price was still toiling away in +the rear. He had been half a lap behind; he came now into the +home-stretch; the crowd began to laugh, and then more kindly, as he drew +nearer, to applaud. They clapped and called, "Good work, Price!" Westby +met him about fifty yards from the finish and ran with him, saying, +"You've got to stick it out now, Tom; you can't drop out now; you're all +right, old boy--lots of steam in your boiler--you'll break a record yet." +Irving caught some of the speeches. And so Westby was there when Price +crossed the line and collapsed in a heap on the track. + +It was not for long; they brought him to with water, and Westby knelt by +him fanning his face with the skirt of his dressing gown. Barclay picked +the boy up. "Oh, I'm all right, sir," said Price, and he insisted on +being allowed to walk to the athletic house alone,--which he did rather +shakily. + +Westby flirted the cinders from the skirt of his dressing gown. "Blamed +little fool," he remarked to Carroll and to Allison, who stood by. +"Wouldn't his mother give me the dickens, though, for letting him do +that!" But Irving, who heard, knew there was a ring of pride in Westby's +voice--as if Westby felt that his cousin was a credit to the family. And +Irving thought he was. + +The sports went on; not many of the runs were as exciting as that with +which the afternoon had opened. Irving passed back and forth across the +field, helped measure distances for the handicaps, and tried to be +useful. His interest had certainly been awakened. Twice in college he +had sat on the "bleachers" and viewed indifferently the track contests +between Yale and Harvard; he had had a patriotic desire to see his own +college win, but he had been indifferent to the performance of the +individuals. They had not been individuals to him--merely strange figures +performing in an arena. But here, where he knew the boys and walked +about among them, and saw the different manifestations of nervousness +and excitement, and watched the muscles in their slim legs and arms, he +became himself eager and sympathetic. He stood by when Scarborough went +on putting the shot after beating all the other competitors--went on +putting it in an attempt to break the School record. Unconsciously +Irving pressed forward to see him as he prepared for the third and last +try; unconsciously he stood with lips parted and eyes shining, +fascinated by the huge muscles that rose in Scarborough's brown arm as +he poised the weight at his shoulder and heaved it tentatively. And when +it was announced that the effort had fallen short by only a few inches, +Irving's sigh of disappointment went up with that of the boys. + +At intervals the races were run off--the two-twenty, the quarter-mile, +the half-mile, the high hurdles, the low hurdles. Irving started them +all without any mishap. The last one, the low hurdles for two hundred +and twenty yards, was exciting; the runners were all well matched and +the handicaps were small. And so, after firing the revolver, Irving +started and ran across the field as hard as he could, to be at the +finish; he arrived in time, and stood, still holding the revolver in his +hand, while Morrill and Flack and Mason raced side by side to the tape. +They finished in that order, not more than a yard apart; and Irving +rammed his revolver into his pocket and clapped his hands and cheered +with the Corinthians. + +The Pythians were now two points ahead, and there remained only one +event, the hundred yards. First place counted five points and second +place two; in these games third place did not count. So if a Corinthian +should win the hundred yards, the Corinthians would be victorious in the +meet by one point. + +There were eight entries in the hundred yards--a large number to run +without interfering with one another. But the track was wide, and two of +the boys had handicaps of ten yards, one had five yards, and one had +three. So they were spread out pretty well at the start, and +consequently the danger of interference was minimized. + +The runners threw off their dressing gowns and took their places. Drake, +Flack, Westby, and Mason lined up at scratch,--Westby having drawn the +inside place and being flanked by the two Pythians. There was a moment's +pawing of the cinders, and settling down firmly on the spikes. + +"Ready, everybody!" cried Irving. He drew the revolver from his pocket +and held it aloft. He was as excited as any of the runners; there was +the nervous thrill in his voice. "On your marks!" They put their hands +to the ground; he ran his eyes along them to see that all were placed. +"Set!" There was the instant stiffening of muscles. Then from the +revolver came a click. Irving had emptied the six chambers in starting +the other races, and had forgotten to reload. + +"Just a moment, fellows; ease off!" he called, and they all straightened +up and faced towards him questioningly. "Just till I slip in a +cartridge," Irving explained with embarrassment. + +Westby turned on him a delighted grin, and said,-- + +"Can I be of any assistance, Mr. Upton?" + +"No, thank you," said Irving, and having slipped in one cartridge, he +began filling the other chambers of the revolver. + +"It takes only one shot to start," observed Westby. + +"Yes," said Irving. "If I fire a second, it will be to call you back +because of a false start.--Now then,--all ready once more. On your marks!" +They crouched. "Set!" He fired. + +Somehow in the start Westby's foot slipped, and in trying to get clear +he lunged against Flack. Irving saw it and instantly fired a second +shot, and shouted, "Come back, come back!" The runners heeded the signal +and the shout, but as they tiptoed up the track, they looked irritated. + +"Westby, you fouled Flack." Irving spoke with some asperity. "I shall +have to set you back a yard." + +"It was an accident," Westby replied warmly. "My foot slipped. I +couldn't help myself." + +"But it was a foul," declared Irving, "and I shall have to set you back +a yard." + +"It was an accident, I tell you," repeated Westby. + +"If it was an accident, you oughtn't to set him back," said Drake, his +fellow Corinthian. + +"It's in the starter's discretion," spoke up Mason, the Pythian. + +"The penalty's a yard," affirmed Irving. + +Westby shut his lips tight and looked angrily contemptuous. Irving +measured the distance. "There," he said, "you will start there." + +Westby took the place behind the others without a word. + +"Ready now! On your marks!" + +The pistol cracked, and this time they all got away safely, and Irving +raced after them over the grass. + +From the crowd at the finish came the instant shout of names; out of the +short choppy cries two names especially emerged, "Flack! Flack! Flack!" +"Westby! Westby! Westby!" Those two were the favorites for the event. +Irving saw the scratch men forge ahead, and mingle with the handicap +runners; in the confusion of flying white figures he could not see who +were leading. But the tumult near the finish grew wild; arms and caps +were swung aloft, boys were leaping up and down; the red-haired Dennison +ran along the edge of the track, waving his arms; Morrill on the other +side did the same thing; the next moment the race had ended in a +tumultuous rush of shouting boys. + +[Illustration: AS TO WHO HAD WON, IRVING HAD NOT THE SLIGHTEST IDEA] + +As to who had won, Irving had not the slightest idea. He was hastening +up to find out--hoping that it had been Westby. And then out from the +crowd burst Westby and rushed towards him, panting, flushed, hot-eyed, +attended by Morrill and half a dozen other Corinthians. + +"I hope you're satisfied with your spite-work," said Westby. His voice +shook with passion, his eyes blazed; never before had Irving seen him +when he had so lost control of himself. "You lost me that race--by half a +yard! I hope you're pleased with yourself!" + +He surveyed Irving scornfully, breathing hard, then turned his back and +strode off to the athletic house. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE WORM BEGINS TO TURN + + +After the charge which Westby had flung at him so furiously, Irving +looked in amazement to the other boys for an explanation. They were all +Corinthians, and he saw gloom and resentment in their faces. + +"I think it was pretty rough, Mr. Upton, to penalize him for an +unintentional foul," said Morrill. "He'd have beaten Flack if they'd +started even." + +"But it _was_ a foul," protested Irving. "So I had to penalize him. I +made it as small a penalty as I could." + +"You didn't have to penalize him unless you wanted to," said Morrill +grimly. "Of course you had a perfect right to do as you pleased, only--" +He shrugged his shoulders and walked away, followed by the other +Corinthians. + +Irving stood stricken. So this was the outcome; in seeking to be +sympathetic and to be understood, he had only caused himself somehow to +be more hated and despised. Bitterness rose within him, bitterness +against Westby, against Morrill, against boys in general, against the +school. And only an hour ago, from what he had seen and heard, he had +felt that he could like Westby, and had been not without some hope that +Westby might some time like him. + +He saw Barclay standing with Mr. Randolph by the table on which were the +prize cups; Barclay was bending over, arranging them, and the boys were +gathering on the opposite side of the track, being "policed back" by the +half-dozen members of the athletic committee. Evidently the award of +prizes was to be made at once, and either Barclay or Randolph was to +hand out the cups--perhaps also to make a speech. But Irving could not +wait; he must satisfy himself of his doubts and fears, and so he hurried +forward and touched Barclay on the shoulder. + +"Just a moment, please," he said, as Barclay turned. "Did I do anything +wrong?" + +"You penalized Westby a yard for fouling, I heard; is that so?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, you were within your rights. But if it was obviously an +unintentional foul, I shouldn't have been so strict." + +"I misunderstood what you told me," sighed Irving. "I thought that in +case of foul a fellow _had_ to be penalized." + +"Oh, no." Barclay was busy; he had to think up something to say, by way +of a speech, and he turned and began fussing again with the cups. + +Irving walked away. Even his friend Barclay was not sympathetic, did not +understand the seriousness of what had happened. He could not stay +longer to be the target of hostile, vengeful eyes; he felt that half the +boys there were blaming him in their hearts for the defeat of their +team--and that the others had no gratitude to him for their victory. Not +that it would have made him feel any better if they had; he had only +wanted and tried to be fair. + +He walked away from the field, crossed the track, and passed round into +the avenue that led up to the School. When he had gone as far as the +bend where from behind the cluster of trees the School buildings became +visible, he heard the pleasant ripple of laughter from the crowd. Some +one, probably Barclay, was making a speech; to think of being able to +stand before boys and make them laugh like that! It seemed to Irving +that he had never before known what envy was. + +He spent a mournful hour in his room; then, hearing footsteps on the +stairs, he closed his door. The boys were returning from the field; he +felt sure there would be remarks about him by Westby and Morrill and +other Corinthians up and down the corridor, and he preferred not to hear +them. To his surprise there was rather less disturbance than usual; +perhaps the boys were too tired after their exciting and active +afternoon to indulge in noisy skylarking. So Irving did not have to +emerge from his solitude until the supper bell rang. Even then he +waited until all the boys had passed his door and were clattering down +the stairs. Yet as he descended, Westby's indignant voice floated up to +him,-- + +"Just because I guyed him--he felt he had to get even." + +At supper Westby did not look at Irving. One of the boys, Blake, made a +comment; he said,-- + +"That was a mighty good race you ran, Westby; hard luck you were +handicapped." + +"You can call it hard luck if you want," said Westby. + +"How did it happen, anyway?" Blake asked, quite innocently. + +"Oh, don't ask _me_," said Westby. + +Three or four of the boys who did know glanced slyly at Irving, and +Irving, though he had meant to say nothing, spoke up; there was +electricity in the air. + +"Westby was unfortunate enough to foul Flack at the start; that was all +there was to it," he said. "I saw it and set him back a yard. I was +under the impression that in case of foul a penalty had to be +imposed--and I made the penalty as light as possible." + +He felt that this statement ought to appease any reasonable boy. But +Westby was not in a reasonable mood. He paid no attention to Irving; he +addressed the table. + +"I told Scarborough he might have known things would be botched +somehow." + +"Why?" asked Blake. + +"Oh, you've got to have officials who know their business." + +There was an interval of silence at the table; Westby, having fired his +shot, sat straight, with cheeks flushed, looking across at Blake. + +"Westby feels that he has had provocation and therefore may be rude." +Irving spoke at last with calmness. "It's true that I never officiated +before at any races. At the same time, I don't believe I did anything +which some experienced officials would not have done. There are probably +a good many who believe in penalizing a runner for clumsy and stupid +interference as well as for deliberate intent to foul." + +He had spoken mildly; he did not even emphasize the words "clumsy and +stupid." But the retort went home; the Pythians at the table,--of whom +Blake was one,--chuckled; and Westby, with a deeper shade of crimson on +his face and a sudden compression of his lips, lowered his eyes. + +Irving had triumphed, but after the first moment he felt surprisingly +little satisfaction in his triumph. He could not help being sorry for +Westby; the boy was after all right in feeling that he had been deprived +of a victory to which he had been entitled. And as Irving looked at his +downcast face, he softened still further; Westby had so often delighted +in humiliating him, and he had longed for the opportunity of reprisal. +Now it had come, and Westby was humiliated, and the audience were not +unsympathetic with Irving for the achievement; yet Irving felt already +the sting of remorse. Westby was only a boy, and he was a master; it was +not well for a master to mortify a boy in the presence of other boys--a +boy whose disappointment was already keen. + +The letters were distributed; there was one for Irving from his brother. +It contained news that made the world a different place from what it had +been an hour ago. Lawrence was playing left end on the Harvard Freshman +football eleven; not only that, but in the first game of the season, +played against a Boston preparatory school, he had made the only +touchdown. He added that that didn't mean much, for he had got the ball +on a fluke; still, the tone of the letter was excited and elated. + +And it excited and elated Irving. He folded the letter and put it in his +pocket; he sat for a moment looking out of the window with dreamy eyes +and an unconscious smile. Lawrence was succeeding, was going to succeed, +in a way far different from his own--if his own college course could be +said in any sense to have terminated in success. Lawrence would have the +athletic and the social experience which he had never had; Lawrence +would be popular as he had never been; Lawrence would go brilliantly +through college as he had never done. Everything now was in Lawrence's +reach, and he was a boy who would not be spoiled or led astray by the +achievement of temporary glories. + +In the vision of his brother's triumphant career, Irving was transported +from the troubles and perplexities, from the self-reproaches and the +doubts which had been making him unhappy. He wanted now to share his +happiness, to take the boys into his confidence--but one can share one's +happiness only with one's friends. There was Westby, aggrieved and +hostile; there was Carroll, sitting next to him, the queer, quizzical, +silent youth, with whom Irving had been entirely unable to establish any +relation of intimacy; no, there were no boys at his table with whom he +was intimate enough to appeal for their interest and congratulations. +And feeling this, he shrank from communicating the news,--though he felt +sure that even Westby, who was going to Harvard the next year, might be +interested in it; he shrank from anything like boasting. He found an +outlet soon; Barclay came to see him that evening. + +"I looked for you this afternoon, after the giving out of the prizes," +said Barclay. "But I couldn't find you." + +"No, I didn't wait for that. Did you make a speech? I heard the boys +laughing and cheering as I came away." + +"Oh, yes, I got off a few stale jokes and some heavy-footed persiflage. +It went well enough.--But I looked for you afterwards because I felt I +may have seemed rather short when you came up; the truth is, I was +racking my brain at that moment; Scarborough had just sprung the fact on +me that I must make the speech." + +"Oh, it was all right," said Irving. "I'm sorry to have bothered you at +such a time. I was just a little agitated because Westby was rather +angry over being penalized in the hundred--" + +"So I hear. Well, it was hard luck in a way--but after all you had a +perfect right to penalize him; he did foul, and he ought to be sport +enough to take the consequences." + +"I suppose it wouldn't have been--it wouldn't be possible to run the race +over?" + +"Certainly not. Besides, Westby has no right to say that if he'd started +even with Flack, he'd have beaten him. It's true that he gained half a +yard on Flack in the race; but it's also true that Flack knew he had +that much leeway. There's no telling how much more Flack might have done +if he'd had to. So if Westby says anything to me, I shall tell him just +that." + +"I feel sorry about the thing anyway. I'm sorry I made a mess of it--as +usual." + +"Oh, cheer up; it's not going to do you any harm with the fellows. A +little momentary flash from Westby and Morrill--" + +"No, I wasn't thinking of myself." + +"You weren't!" The bluntness of Barclay's exclamation of astonishment +caused Irving to blush, and Barclay himself, realizing what he had +betrayed to Irving's perception, looked embarrassed. But Irving +laughed. + +"I don't wonder you're surprised. I guess that's been the worst trouble +with me here--thinking about myself. And that was what was troubling me +when I went to you this afternoon. But it isn't any longer. I feel bad +about Westby. I can't help thinking I did rob him of his race--and then I +sat on him at supper into the bargain." + +Barclay shouted with laughter. "You sat on Westby--and you're sorry for +it! What's happened to you, anyway? Tell me about it." + +Irving narrated the circumstances. "And I want to be friendly with him," +he concluded. "Don't you think I might explain that it was a blunder on +my part--and that I'm sorry I blundered?" + +"I wouldn't," said Barclay. "He's beginning to respect you now. Don't do +anything to make him think you're a little soft. That's what he wants to +think, and he'd construe any such move on your part unfavorably." + +"Well, perhaps so." Irving sighed. + +"You're stiffening up quite a lot," observed Barclay. + +"I was very wobbly when Westby and the other fellows went for me after +that race," confessed Irving. "If I stiffened up, I guess it was just +the courage of desperation. And I don't think that amounts to much. But +I've cheered up for good now." + +"How's that?" + +Somewhat shyly Irving communicated the proud news about his brother. + +"Oh, I read about him in to-day's Boston newspaper," exclaimed Barclay. + +"What?" asked Irving. "Where was it? I didn't see it." + +"You probably don't read all the football news, as I do. But you will +after this." Barclay laughed. "Yes, there was quite an account of that +game, and Upton was mentioned as being the bright particular star on the +Freshman team. It never occurred to me that he was your brother." + +"Naturally not. I wish I could get away to see the game with the Yale +Freshmen; I've never seen Lawrence play. But I don't suppose I could +manage that, could I?" + +Barclay looked doubtful. "The rector's pretty strict with the masters as +well as with the boys. Especially when a man has charge of a dormitory. +I somehow think it wouldn't be wise to try it,--your first term." + +"I suppose not. Well, I shall certainly read the football columns from +now on." + +"I wonder," remarked Barclay, "if we couldn't get the Harvard Freshmen +up here to play a practice game with our School eleven--say, the week +before the St. John's game? It would be good practice for them as well +as for us; three or four years ago the Freshmen played here." + +"Oh, I wish we could." Irving's face lighted up. "I'll write to my +brother, and perhaps he can arrange it with the captain and manager." + +"I'll talk it over with Collingwood first," said Barclay. "And then +we'll proceed officially; and you can pull any additional wires that are +possible through your brother." He rose to go. "I shouldn't wonder," he +added, "if that brother of yours turned out to be a useful asset for +you here." + +"I should prefer to stand on my own legs," said Irving. "I shan't +advertise it round that I have a football brother." + +"Oh, it won't be necessary for you to do that; things have a way of +leaking out." Barclay laughed as he took his departure. + +As it happened, the next day Louis Collingwood, the captain of the +School eleven, went to Barclay to consult him about the outlook for the +season. + +"It seems to me we'll have a good School team," said Collingwood, "but +no second eleven capable of giving them hard practice--the kind they'll +need to beat St. John's. If we could only arrange one or two games with +outside teams, to put us into shape--" + +"I was thinking of that," said Barclay. "I wonder if we mightn't get the +Harvard Freshmen up here. They have a good eleven, apparently." + +"Yes, awfully good, from all that the papers say. Don't you suppose +their schedule is filled up?" + +"It may be--but perhaps they could give us a date. Suppose you come over +to my house this evening and we'll send a letter off to their captain. +And I'm sure"--Barclay threw the remark out in the most casual +manner--"Mr. Upton will be glad to approach them for us through his +brother." + +"His brother? Who's that?" + +"Why, didn't you know? His brother plays left end on the team--" + +"Kiddy Upton's brother on the Harvard Freshmen! No!" + +"Whose brother?" + +"Mr. Upton's, I meant to say." Louis grinned. "Is he really, Mr. +Barclay?" + +"I'm rather surprised you didn't know it. But I guess Mr. Upton is the +kind that doesn't talk much." + +"I should think he'd have let that out." + +"Well, he let it out to me. I suspect--though he hasn't told me--that he's +helping to put his brother through college. And his success in doing +that will naturally depend largely on his success or failure here as a +master." + +"You mean--keeping his job?" + +Barclay nodded. "Yes. Oh, I don't suppose there's any real doubt about +that. He's a perfectly competent teacher, isn't he? You know; you have a +class with him." + +"Ye-es," said Louis, slowly. "The trouble has been, the fellows horse +him a good deal--though not quite so much as they did." + +"They'll get over that when they know him better," remarked Barclay. + +He knew that Louis Collingwood went away feeling much impressed, and he +was pretty sure he had done Irving a good turn. + +It was in the noon half-hour, while Collingwood was holding this +interview with Mr. Barclay, that Westby, reading the Harvard news in his +Boston paper, went giggling into Morrill's room. + +"There's a fellow named Upton playing on the Freshmen." He showed +Morrill the name. "Let's get a crowd and go in to Kiddy; I'll get him +rattled." + +"How?" asked Morrill. + +"Oh, ask him if this fellow's a relation of his, and say I supposed of +course he must be--such athletic prowess, and all that sort of thing; +with a crowd standing there giggling you know how rattled he'll get." + +"All right," said Morrill, who was an earnest admirer of Westby's wit. + +So they collected Dennison and Smythe and Allison and Carroll and +Scarborough, and marched up the corridor--humorously tramping in step--to +Irving's door. There Westby, newspaper in hand, knocked. Irving opened +the door. + +"Mr. Upton, sir," began Westby, "sorry to disturb you, sir." The boys +all began to grin, and Irving saw that he was in for some carefully +planned attack. "I was just reading my morning paper, sir, and I wanted +to ask you what relation to you the man named Upton is that's playing on +the Harvard Freshman eleven, sir." + +Irving's eyes twinkled; if ever the enemy had been delivered into his +hands! + +"What makes you think he's a relation?" he asked, with an assumption of +cold dignity. + +"Oh, we all feel sure he must be, sir. Of course your well-known and +justly famous interest in all athletic sports, sir--not to say your +prowess in them, sir--it's natural to suppose that any athlete named +Upton would belong to the same family with you, sir." + +The boys were all on the broad grin; Westby's manner was so expansively +courteous, his compliments were so absurdly urbane, that Irving threw +off his air of coldness and adopted a jaunty manner of reply which was +even more misleading. + +"Oh, well, if you've been so clever as to guess it, Westby," he said, "I +don't mind telling you--it's my brother." + +Westby bestowed on his confederates--quite indifferent as to whether +Irving detected it or not--his slow, facetious wink. He returned then to +his victim and in his most gamesome manner said,-- + +"I supposed of course it was your brother, sir. Or at least I should +have supposed so, except that I didn't know you had a brother at +Harvard. Wasn't it rather--what shall I say?--_peu aimable_ not to have +taken us, your friends, into your confidence? Would you mind telling us, +sir, what your brother's first name is?" + +"My brother's first name? Lawrence." + +"Hm!" said Westby, referring to his newspaper. "I find him set down here +as 'T. Upton.' But I suppose that is a misprint, of course." + +"I suppose it must be," agreed Irving. + +"Newspapers are always making mistakes, aren't they?" said Westby. "Such +careless fellows! We'd like awfully to hear more about your brother +Lawrence, Mr. Upton." + +The broad grin broke into a snicker. + +"Why, I don't know just what there is to tell," Irving said awkwardly. + +"What does he look like, sir? Does he resemble you very much?--I mean, +apart from the family fondness for athletics." + +Irving's lips twitched; Westby was enjoying so thoroughly his revenge! +And the other boys were all stifling their amusement. + +"We are said not to look very much alike," he answered. "He is of a +somewhat heavier build." + +"He must be somewhat lacking, then, in grace and agility, sir," said +Westby; and the boys broke into a shout, and Irving gave way to a faint +smile. + +At that moment Collingwood came up the stairs. + +"Hello, Lou," said Westby, with a welcoming wink. "We're just +congratulating Mr. Upton on his brother; did you know that he has a +brother playing on the Harvard Freshmen?" + +"Yes," said Collingwood. "I've just heard it from Mr. Barclay." + +The boys stared at Collingwood, then at Irving, whose eyes were +twinkling again and whose smile had widened. Then they looked at Westby; +he was gazing at Collingwood unbelievingly,--stupefied. + +"What's the matter with you?" asked Collingwood. + +And then Irving broke out into a delighted peal of laughter. He could +find nothing but slang in which to express himself, and through his +laughter he ejaculated,-- + +"Stung, my young friend! Stung!" + +They all gave a whoop; they swung Westby round and rushed him down the +corridor to his room, shouting and jeering. + +When Irving went down to lunch, Carroll, the quizzical, silent Carroll, +welcomed him with a grin. Westby turned a bright pink and looked away. +At the next table Allison and Smythe and Scarborough were all looking +over at him and smiling; and at the table beyond that Collingwood and +Morrill and Dennison were craning their necks and exhibiting their joy. +Westby, the humorist, had suddenly become the butt, a position which he +had rarely occupied before. + +He was quite subdued through that meal. Once in the middle of it, Irving +looked at him and caught his eye, and on a sudden impulse leaned back +and laughed. Carroll joined in, Westby blushed once more, the Sixth +Formers at the next table looked over and began to laugh; the other boys +cast wondering glances. + +"What's the joke, Mr. Upton?" asked Blake. + +"Oh, don't ask _me_," said Irving. "Ask Westby." + +"What is it, Wes?" said Blake, and could not understand why he received +such a vicious kick under the table, or why Carroll said in such a +jeering way, "Yes, Wes, what _is_ the joke, anyhow?" + +When the meal was over, Westby's friends lay in wait for him outside in +the hall, crowded round, and began patting him on the back and offering +him their jocular sympathy. To have the joke turned on the professional +humorist appeared to be extremely popular; and the humorist did not take +it very well. "Oh, get out, get out!" he was saying, wrenching himself +from the grasp of first one and then another. And Irving came out just +as he exclaimed in desperation, "Just the same, I'll bet it's all a +fake; I'll bet he hasn't got a brother!" + +He flung himself around, trying to escape from Collingwood's clutch, +and saw Irving. The smile faded from Irving's face; Westby looked at him +sullenly for a moment, then broke away and made a rush up the stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE HARVARD FRESHMAN + + +For two or three days the intercourse between Irving and Westby was of +the most formal sort. At table they held no communication with each +other; in the class-room Irving gave Westby every chance to recite and +conscientiously helped him through the recitation as much as he did any +one else; in the dormitory they exchanged a cold good-night. Irving did +not press Westby for a retraction of the charge which he had overheard +the boy make; it seemed to him unworthy to dignify it by taking such +notice of it. He knew that none of the boys really believed it and that +Westby himself did not believe it, but had been goaded into the +declaration in the desperate effort to maintain a false position. Irving +wondered if the boy would not have the fairness to make some +acknowledgment of the injustice into which his pride had provoked him. + +And one day at luncheon, Westby turned to Irving and with an embarrassed +smile said, + +"Mr. Upton, do you get any news from your brother about the Harvard +Freshman eleven?" + +Carroll directed at Westby the quizzical look under which Irving had so +often suffered. But Westby did not flinch; he waited for Irving's +answer, with his embarrassed, appealing smile. + +"I had a letter from him this morning," said Irving. "He writes that +there is a chance of their coming up here to play the School eleven; I +had asked him if that couldn't be arranged." + +"Oh, really!" exclaimed Westby, in a tone of honest interest. + +"When, Mr. Upton?" "Does he think they'll come?" "Does Lou Collingwood +know about it?" + +"I guess he knows as much as I do." Irving tried to answer the flood of +questions. "He wrote officially to the captain at the same time that I +wrote to Lawrence. If they come at all, it will be about a week before +the St. John's game." + +"When shall we know for sure?" asked Westby. + +"It appears to be a question whether the Freshmen will choose to play us +or Lakeview School. They want to play whichever team seems the stronger, +and they're going to discuss the prospects and decide in a few days." + +"I'm sure we're better than Lakeview," declared Blake. "You'll tell your +brother we are, won't you, Mr. Upton?" + +"I'll tell him that I understand we have a very superior team," said +Irving. "I fancy he knows that it's as much as I can do to tell the +difference between a quarterback and a goal post." + +"You will admit, then, that there was some reason for my not believing +you had a football brother, won't you, Mr. Upton?" Westby tried thus to +beat a not wholly inglorious retreat. + +"Every reason--until it became a matter of doubting my word," said +Irving. + +Westby crimsoned, and Irving felt that again he had been too severe with +him; the boy had been trying to convey an apology, without actually +making one; it might have been well to let him off. + +But Irving reflected that the account was still far from even and that +perhaps this unwonted adversity might be good for Westby. Irving did not +realize quite how much teasing had been visited upon Westby in +consequence of his disastrous error, or how humiliated the boy had been +in his heart. For Westby was proud and vain and sensitive, accustomed to +leadership, unused to ridicule; for two days now the shafts of those +whom he had been in the habit of chaffing with impunity had been +rankling. Because of this sensitive condition, the final rebuke at the +luncheon table, before all the boys, cut him more deeply than Irving +suspected. Afterwards Westby said to Carroll,-- + +"Oh, very well. If he couldn't accept my acknowledgment of my mistake, +but had to jump on me again--well, it's just spite on his part; that's +all. I don't care; I can let him alone after this. That seems to be what +he wants." + +"A month ago he wouldn't have asked more than that of you," observed +Carroll. "And you didn't feel like obliging him then." + +The implication that Irving had worsted him galled Westby. + +"Oh," he retorted, "the best of jokes will wear out. Kiddy was a +perfectly good joke for a while--" + +Carroll annoyed him by laughing. + +For one who had hitherto been indifferent to all forms of athletics, +Irving developed a surprising interest in the game of football. Every +afternoon he went to the field and watched the practice of the Pythian +and Corinthian elevens. He had once thought the forward pass a detail +incapable of engaging one's serious attention, and worthy of rebuke if +attempted in dormitory; but after Lawrence wrote that in executing it he +was acquiring some proficiency, Irving studied it with a more curious +eye. + +He wondered if Lawrence was as skillful at it as Collingwood, for +instance; Collingwood had now learned to shoot the ball with accuracy +twenty or twenty-five yards. Occasionally Irving got hold of a football +and tested his own capacity in throwing it; his attempts convinced him +that in this matter he had a great deal to learn. Looking back, he could +comprehend Louis Collingwood's indignation and amazement at a master who +would coldly turn away when a boy was trying to illustrate for him the +forward pass. + +One afternoon from watching the football practice Irving moved aside for +a little while to see the finish of the autumn clay-pigeon shoot of the +Gun Club. + +There were only six contestants, and there were not many spectators; +most of the boys preferred to stay on the football field, where there +was more action; the second Pythians and second Corinthians were playing +a match. But Irving had heard Westby talking at luncheon about the +shoot and strolled over more from curiosity to see how he would acquit +himself than for any other reason. + +The trap was set in the long grass on the edge of the meadow near the +woods; Allison was performing the unexciting task of pulling the string +and releasing the skimming disks. When Irving came up, Smythe was +finishing; he did not appear to be much of a shot, for he missed three +out of the seven "birds" which Irving saw him try for. + +Then it was Westby's turn. Westby had got himself up for the occasion, +in a Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers and leggings; he was always +scrupulous about appearing in costumes that were extravagantly correct. +He saw Irving and somewhat ostentatiously turned away. + +Irving waited and looked on. Westby stood in an almost negligent +attitude, with his gun lowered; the trap was sprung, the clay pigeon +flew--and then was shattered in the midst of its flight. It seemed to +Irving that Westby hardly brought his gun to his shoulder to take aim. +It could not all be luck either; that was evident when Westby demolished +ten clay pigeons in rapid succession. It was Carroll's turn now; Westby, +having made his perfect score, blew the smoke from the breech and stood +by. + +Irving went up to him. + +"I congratulate you on your shooting, Westby," he said. "It seems quite +wonderful to a man who never fired a gun off but a few times in his +life--and then it was a revolver, with blank cartridges." + +Westby looked at him coolly. "It's funny you've never done anything that +most fellows do," he observed. "Were you always afraid of hurting +yourself?" + +"I was offering my congratulations, Westby," said Irving stiffly, and +walked away. + +"Why did you go at him like that?" asked Carroll, who had heard the +interchange. + +"Oh," said Westby, "I wasn't going to have him hanging round swiping to +me, soft-soaping me." + +"I think he was only trying to be decent," said Carroll. + +"I like a man who is decent without trying," Westby retorted. + +Yet whether his nerves were a little upset by the episode or his eye +thrown off by the wait, Westby did not do so well in the next round. The +trap was set to send the birds skimming lower and faster; Westby missed +two out of ten, and was tied for first place with Carroll. And in the +final shoot to break the tie, Westby lost. + +He shook hands with Carroll, but with no excess of good humor. He knew +he was really the better shot, and even though Carroll was his closest +friend, the defeat rankled. + +At supper Blake congratulated Carroll across the table. + +"You won, did you, Carroll?" asked Irving. + +"Yes, sir--by a close shave." + +"I'm sorry I didn't stay to see it." The remark was innocent in +intention, but to Westby it seemed edged with malice--as if the master +was exulting over his defeat. + +Something in Westby's expression told Irving what the boy had inferred; +Irving went afterwards to his room in a despondent mood. It didn't +matter how hard he tried or what he did; he had not the faculty of +winning and holding affection and respect. As it was with boys, so it +would be with men. If only he could see how and why he failed, and could +learn to correct his mistakes! + +He felt of more importance in the School world when a letter from +Lawrence was the first announcement that the Freshman eleven would come +to play St. Timothy's. He asked Collingwood if he had had any word, and +when Collingwood said no, he told him his brother's message. + +"I don't believe there can be any mistake," said Irving. "He writes that +it was decided only the night before. You'll probably receive the +official communication in a day or two." + +Collingwood was tremendously elated. "I knew we were better than +Lakeview--but I was afraid they wouldn't realize it," he said. "Now +we'll have to get ready and beat them. Anyway, if we can't do that, it +will be the best kind of preparation for the St. John's game." + +The official communication arrived; Collingwood rushed with it to the +bulletin board in the Study building and posted it for all eyes to see. +The same day he posted the School eleven, as it would line up in that +game. + +Westby was to be first substitute for Dennison at right half back. +Westby had been playing a streaky game on the First Corinthians; on some +days he was as brilliant a runner and tackler as there was in the +School, and on other days he would lose interest and miss everything. + +If he was disappointed at the preference given to Dennison, he did not +show it; in fact, that he appeared on the list as substitute seemed to +fill him with elation. He had never taken football quite so seriously as +some of the others--as Collingwood and Dennison, for example; and +therefore only a moderate success in it was for him a matter of +gratification. + +The training table was organized at once, but Westby was not admitted to +it. There was not room for the substitutes; they were expected to do +their own training. Westby was notoriously lax in that matter and had to +be nagged constantly by Collingwood, whom he found some pleasure in +teasing. + +He would secure some forbidden article of food and ostentatiously appear +to be eating it with the greatest enjoyment until he caught +Collingwood's eye; a large circular doughnut or a chocolate clair +delicately poised between his thumb and finger were his favorite +instruments for torturing his captain's peace of mind. He would contrive +to be seen just as he was on the point of taking the first bite; then he +would reluctantly lay the tidbit down. + +"It's a hard life, this being a near athlete," he grumbled. "Sitting at +a table with a lot of uncongenial pups like you fellows.--Mr. Upton, +Blake's kicking me; make him quit, sir.--Not allowed to eat half the +things the rest of you do, and not allowed either to get any of the +training-table grub. Well, I never did think of self, so I can endure it +better than most." + +The others jeered. But Westby, however he might complain, was faithful +at practice and accepted good-naturedly his position upon the second +eleven, and the hard battering to which every one on the second eleven +was subjected. + +The day when he got round Morrill, the first eleven's left end, and +scored a touchdown--the only one which in that week of practice the +second eleven scored--brought him so much applause that he began really +to think there might be a chance of his ousting Dennison from the +regular position. When that notion entered his head he ceased to be +facetious about the training; he became suddenly as serious as +Collingwood himself. But in spite of that, he remained Dennison's +substitute. + +The Saturday set for the game with the Harvard Freshmen was an Indian +Summer day. In the early morning mist wreathed the low meadows and the +edges of the pond; it seemed later to dissipate itself through all the +windless air in haze. The distant hills were blue and faint, the elms in +the soft sunlight that filtered down had a more golden glow. + +"Great day," was the salutation that one heard everywhere; "great day +for the game." + +Now and then in his morning classes Irving's thoughts would wander, +there would be a gentle rush of excitement in his veins. He would turn +his mind firmly back to his work; he did not do any less well that day +because his heart was singing happily. + +In three hours more--in two--in one--he was going to see Lawrence again; he +wondered if he would find his brother much changed. Only two months had +passed since they had parted; yet in that time how remote Lawrence had +grown in Irving's eyes from the Lawrence of the Ohio farm! + +The bell announcing the noon recess rang; Irving dismissed his last +class. He hurried down the stairs almost as madly as the Fourth Formers +themselves; the train on which the Harvard Freshmen were coming was due +ten minutes before; already Lawrence and the others must have started on +the two-mile drive out to the School. + +In front of the Study building most of the older boys and many of the +younger were congregated, awaiting the arrival of the visitors. Irving +walked about among the groups impatiently, now and then looking at his +watch. He passed Westby and Collingwood, who were standing together by +the gate. + +"Pretty nearly time for them, Mr. Upton," said Westby. "Feeling nervous, +sir?" + +There was more good nature in his smile than he had displayed towards +Irving since the day of the track games. + +"A little," Irving admitted, and at that moment some one shouted, "Here +they come!" + +Over the crest of the hill galloped four horses, drawing a long red +barge crowded with boys. Collingwood climbed up on the gate-post. + +"Now, fellows," he said, "when they get here, give three times three for +the Freshmen." + +The boys waited in silence. Irving strained his eyes, trying to +distinguish the figures huddled together in the barge. The horses came +down at a run, with a rattle of hoofs and harness; the driver +flourished his whip over them spectacularly. + +"Now then, fellows!" cried Collingwood. "Three times three for the +Freshmen!" + +And amidst the waving of caps as the cheers were given, Irving could see +no one in the barge. Then when that cheer had subsided, one of the +visitors stood up and took off his hat and shouted,-- + +"Three times three for St. Timothy's! One--two--three!" The fellows in the +barge sent up a vigorous, snappy cheer, and then overflowed at back and +sides. In the confusion and the crowd, Irving was still straining his +short-sighted eyes in a vain attempt to discover Lawrence. + +Suddenly he heard a shout,--"Hello, Irv!"--and there, a little way off, +was Lawrence, laughing at him and struggling towards him through the +throng. The boys understood and drew apart and let the two brothers +meet. + +"It's great to see you again, Irv," said Lawrence, when he could reach +and grasp his brother's hand; he looked at Irving with the same old +loving humor in his eyes. + +"It's great to see you again, Lawrence," said Irving. He could not help +being a little conscious and constrained, with so many eyes upon him. + +He tucked one hand in his brother's arm and with the other reached for +Lawrence's bag. Lawrence laughed, and with hardly an effort detached it +from Irving's grasp. + +"_You_ carry that, you little fellow! I guess not," he said. + +Some of the boys heard and smiled, and Lawrence threw back at them a +humorous smile; Irving blushed. He led Lawrence away, towards the Upper +School. The other Freshmen were being conducted in the same direction by +Collingwood and his team. + +"Well," said Westby to Carroll in an outpouring of slang from the +heart, "Kiddy's brother is certainly a peach of a good looker. I hope +he'll bring him to lunch." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +WESTBY IN THE GAME + + +It was with satisfaction that Westby and Carroll saw Lawrence entering +the dining-room with Irving. They had observed the long table spread in +the common room of the Upper School, where the visiting team were to be +entertained at luncheon, and had supposed therefore that they would have +no chance of satisfying their curiosity about the master's brother. + +When Irving introduced Lawrence to them, Westby said,-- + +"We hoped we were going to see you here, but we were afraid you might +have to eat outside with your team." + +"Oh, I got special permission from the captain for this occasion," said +Lawrence. "I'm afraid I'm depriving somebody of his seat," he added to +Irving. + +"It's Caldwell--I arranged with him about it. He's gone to Mr. Randolph's +table." + +"Besides, he's only a Fourth Former," said Westby. + +Lawrence laughed. "You're Sixth, I suppose?" Westby nodded. "Going to +Harvard next year?" + +"Yes." + +"Good for you. I'll tell you one thing; you couldn't have a better man +to get you in than this brother of mine--if I do say it. He tutored me +for Harvard--and I guess you've never had a worse blockhead, have you, +Irv?" + +"Oh, you were all right in some things, Lawrence." + +"I'd like to know what. How I used to try your patience, though!" +Lawrence chuckled, then turned and addressed the boys, especially Westby +and Carroll, as they were the oldest. "Did any of you ever see him mad?" + +"Oh, surely never that," said Westby urbanely. "Irritated perhaps, but +not mad--never lacking in self-control." + +Westby, thinking himself safe, ventured upon his humorous wink to Blake +and the others who were grinning; Lawrence intercepted it and at once +fixed Westby with a penetrating gaze. + +Westby colored and looked down; Lawrence held his eyes on him until +Westby looked up and then, in even greater embarrassment under this +prolonged scrutiny, down again. Then Lawrence turned to his brother. + +"Tell me, Irv," he said in a tone that simply brushed aside as +non-existent everybody else at the table--just as if he and his brother +were talking together alone, "what sort of kids do you have to look +after in your dormitory, anyhow?" + +Irving's lip twitched with amusement; Westby, still scarlet, was looking +at his plate. "Oh, a pretty good sort--but they're Sixth Formers, you +know--not kids." + +"Pretty fresh, are they--trying to show off a good deal and be funny?" + +"Oh, one or two only; still, even they aren't bad." + +Lawrence paid no further attention to Westby. Now and then he spoke to +Carroll and to Blake, but most of his conversation--and it dealt with the +sort of college life about which boys liked to hear, and about which +Irving had never been able to enlighten them--he addressed directly to +his brother. + +Westby listened to it gloomily; there were many questions that he wanted +to ask, but now he did not dare. Evidently Mr. Upton had warned his +brother against him, had imparted to his brother his own dislike; that +was why Lawrence had nipped so brutally his harmless, humorous allusion +to the master's temper. + +As a matter of fact, Lawrence had had no previous knowledge whatever of +Westby; Irving had always withstood his impulse to confide his troubles. +He made now an effort to draw Westby forward and reinstate him in the +conversation; he said,-- + +"Lawrence, you and Westby here may come against each other this +afternoon; Westby's first substitute for one of the half-backs on the +School eleven." + +Lawrence said, "That's good," and gave Westby hardly a glance. + +After luncheon, walking down to the athletic field with Westby, Carroll +said jeeringly,-- + +"Well, Kiddy Upton's brother is no myth, is he, Wes?" + +At that Westby began to splutter. "Conceited chump! He makes me tired. +Of all the fresh things--to sit up there and talk about the 'kids' in +Kiddy's dormitory!" + +Carroll laughed in his silent, irritating way. "He certainly put you +down and out--a good hard one. Why, even Kiddy was sorry for you." + +Westby went on fuming. "Sorry for me! I guess Kiddy had been whining to +him about how I'd worried him. That's why the chump had it in for me." + +"Chump, Wes! Such a peach of a good looker?" + +"Oh, shut up. I don't care if he is good looking; he's fresher than +paint." + +"He would think that was a queer criticism for you to make." + +Westby stalked on in angry silence. He was more wounded than he could +let Carroll know. There was a side to him which he shrank from +displaying,--the gentle, affectionate side of which Irving had had a +glimpse when the boy was anxiously watching his young cousin Price in +the mile run; and to this quality Lawrence's greeting of his brother had +unconsciously appealed. Westby had stood by and heard his words, "_You_ +carry that, you little fellow!" had seen the humor in his eyes and the +gentleness on his lips, and had felt something in his own throat. + +For all his affectation of worldliness and cynicism, the boy was a +hero-worshiper at heart, and could never resist being attracted by a +fine face and a handsome pair of eyes and a pleasant voice; Lawrence had +in the first glance awakened an enthusiasm which was eager for near +acquaintance. And now, although he talked so venomously against him, it +was not Lawrence whom he reproached in his heart; it was himself. + +Why had he been unable to resist the impulse to be smart, to be funny, +to be cheap? He might have known that a fellow like Lawrence would see +through his remark and would resent it; he might have known that his +silly, clownish wink could not escape Lawrence's keen eyes. + +So Westby walked on, gloomily reproaching himself, unconscious that at +that very moment, walking a hundred yards behind, Irving was defending +him. + +"A month ago, Lawrence, I'd have been glad to have you light on Westby +as you did," he said. "But now I'm rather sorry." + +"Why so?" + +"Oh, he's had some hard luck lately, and--well, I don't know. Those +encounters with a boy don't seem to me worth while." + +"You've got to suppress them when they're fresh like that," insisted +Lawrence. "For a fellow to talk to you in that fresh way before a +guest--and that guest your brother--I don't stand for it; that's all." + +"No, I don't either. Well, it doesn't matter much; reproof slides off +Westby like water off a duck's back." + +They talked of other things then until Lawrence had to join his team and +enter the athletic house with them to dress. + +Out on the field Irving mingled with the crowd, walked to and fro +nervously, stopped to say only a word now to a boy, now to a master, and +then passed on. It was foolish for him to be so excited, so tremulous, +he told himself. Lawrence had parted from him with the same calmness +with which he might have gone to prepare for bed. It was all the more +foolish to be so excited, because the accessories to promote a +preliminary excitement were lacking,--rivalry, partisanship; the visiting +team had no supporters. + +The School had turned out to see the game, but there was no cheering, no +thrill of expectation; the boys stood about and waited quietly, as they +would before ordinary practice. It would be different in another week, +when the St. John's team were sharing the athletic house with St. +Timothy's, and the adherents of the two schools were ranged opposite +each other, waving flags and hurling back and forth challenging +cheers--cheers meant to inspirit the players while they dressed. But now +Irving was aware that he in all the crowd was the only one whose nerves +and muscles were quivering, whose voice might not be quite natural or +quite under his control, whose heart was beating hard. + +If Lawrence should not play well this time--the first time he had ever +seen him play! Or if anything should happen to him! Irving tramped back +and forth, digging cold hands into his pockets. + +The Harvard team was the first to leave the athletic house; they broke +through the line of spectators near where Irving stood and trotted out +on the field. As they passed, he caught his brother's eye and waved to +him. In the preliminary practice Irving watched him eagerly; with his +light curly hair he was conspicuous, and as he was on the end of the +line his movements were easy to follow. It seemed to Irving that he was +the quickest and the readiest and the handsomest of them all. + +Out came St. Timothy's, and then there was a cheer. The two teams went +rollicking and tumbling up and down the field for a few moments; then +Collingwood and the Harvard captain met in the centre, Mr. Barclay +tossed a coin, and the players went to their positions. Mr. Barclay blew +a whistle; the game began. + +From that time on Irving trotted up and down the side lines, his heart +twittering with pride and anxiety. After every scrimmage, after every +tackle, he looked apprehensively for a curly light head; he was always +glad when he saw it bob up safely out of a pile. Through all the press +and conflict, he watched for it, followed it--just as, he thought in one +whimsical moment, the French troopers of Macaulay's poem watched for the +white plume of Navarre. + +If he had known even less about the game than he did, he must still have +seen that for Harvard his brother and Ballard, the fullback, were +playing especially well. Ballard, with his hard plunges through the +centre and his long punts, was the chief factor in Harvard's offensive +game; Lawrence was their ablest player on the defense. + +After the first ten minutes St. Timothy's made hardly an attempt to go +round his end, but devoted their assaults to the centre and other wing +of the line. + +If there was one thing for which Collingwood, the best football player +in the School, had achieved a special reputation, it was the fleetness +and dexterity with which he could run the ball back after punts. He was +known as the best man in the back field that St. Timothy's had had in +years. So when Ballard prepared for his first kick, the spectators +looked on with composure. + +It was a fine kick; the ball went spiraling high and far, but +Collingwood was under it as it fell, and Dennison was in front of him to +protect him. + +Yet Lawrence, rushing down upon them, was too quick, too clever; +Dennison's attempt to block him off was only a glancing one that +staggered him for the fraction of an instant; and the ball had no sooner +struck in Collingwood's arms than Lawrence launched himself and hurled +the runner backwards. + +"Whew! What a fierce tackle!" ejaculated a boy near Irving admiringly. + +"I think Lou did well to hang on the ball," responded his friend. + +Irving heard; he went about greedily drinking in comments which that +tackle had evoked. He found himself standing behind Westby and the other +substitutes, who, wrapped in blankets, trailed up and down the field +keeping pace with the progress of their team. + +"No!" Briggs, one of the substitutes, was saying. "Was that Kiddy +Upton's brother? He's a whirlwind, isn't he?" + +"Looked to me as if he was trying to lay Lou Collingwood out," returned +Westby sourly. + +At once Irving's cheeks flamed hot. He put out his hand and touched +Westby's shoulder; the boy turned, and then the blood rushed into his +cheeks too. + +"Was there anything wrong about that tackle, Westby?" Irving asked. + +"It just seemed to me he threw him pretty hard." + +Irving spoke to the three or four other substitutes standing by. + +"I don't know much about football; was there anything wrong with that +tackle--that it should be criticised?" + +"It looked all right to me," said Briggs. + +"If there is any question about it, I shall want to talk to my brother--" + +"Oh, it was all right," Windom spoke up. "It was a good, clean, hard +tackle--the right kind. Wes is always down on the enemy, aren't you, +Wes?" + +Westby stood in sullen silence. The next play was started; St. Timothy's +gained five yards, and in the movement of the crowd Irving and Westby +were separated. + +For a few moments Irving's thoughts were diverted from his brother, and +his joyous excitement was overshadowed by regret. He felt less indignant +with Westby than sorry for him; he knew that the boy had repented of his +hasty and intemperate words. If he would only come up and acknowledge +it--so that he might be forgiven! + +Then Irving put Westby out of his mind. St. Timothy's had kicked; +Ballard had recovered the ball for Harvard on St. Timothy's forty-yard +line, and then Warren, the quarterback, had made a long pass straight +into Lawrence's hands; Lawrence started to run; then, just as Chase and +Baldersnaith were bearing down for the tackle, he stopped and hurled the +ball forward and across to Newell, the other Harvard end. + +It sailed clear over the heads of the intervening players; Newell had +been signaled to, had got down the field and was ready for it; three St. +Timothy's players ran to get under the ball, but instead of blocking +Newell off and merely trying to spoil his catch, they all tried to make +the catch themselves; they all leaped for it. Newell was the quickest; +he grabbed the ball out of the air and went down instantly, with the +three others on him--but he was on St. Timothy's ten-yard line. + +It was a brilliant pass and a brilliant catch; St. Timothy's stood +looking on disconsolate, while the Harvard players gathered exultantly +for the line-up. Three rushes through tackle and centre and one run +round Lawrence's end carried the ball across St. Timothy's line for a +touchdown. Ballard kicked the goal. + +There was no more scoring that half. In the second half St. Timothy's +kicked off; Harvard got the ball and set about rushing it back up the +field. They had gained ten yards and had carried the ball forty yards +from their own goal, when they lost possession of it on a fumble. The +spectators cheered, and began shouting,-- + +"Touchdown, St. Timothy's, touchdown!" + +There was more shouting when, with Collingwood interfering for him, +Dennison broke through the Harvard left tackle and made fifteen yards. +Then Collingwood made a quarter-back kick which Morrill captured on the +Harvard five-yard line. + +The St. Timothy's cheering broke out afresh, Scarborough leading it. +Irving joined in the cheer; he was glad to see Collingwood and the +others making gains--provided they did not make them round Lawrence's +end. + +On the five-yard line the Harvard defense stiffened. On the third down +the ball was two yards from the goal line. + +"Everybody get into this next play--everybody!" cried Collingwood +appealingly; he went about slapping his men on the back. "Now +then--twelve, thirty-seven, eighteen." + +There was a surge forward, a quivering, toppling mass that finally fell +indecisively. No one knew whether the ball had been pushed across or +not. No one wanted to get up for fear it might be pushed one way or the +other in the shifting. + +Barclay and Randolph, who was umpire, began summarily dragging the +players from the pile, hauling at an arm or a leg; at last Dennison was +revealed at the bottom hugging the ball--and it was just across the line. + +Then all the St. Timothy's players capered about for joy, and the +spectators shouted as triumphantly as if it had been the St. John's +game; the Harvard team ranged themselves quietly under the goal. +Dennison kicked the goal, and the score was tied. + +For the next ten minutes neither team succeeded in making much progress. +St. Timothy's were playing more aggressively than in the first half; +twice Kenyon, the Harvard halfback, started to skirt round Lawrence's +end, but both times Baldersnaith, the St. Timothy's tackle, broke +through and dragged him down. Baldersnaith, Dennison, Morrill, and +Collingwood were especially distinguishing themselves for the School. + +At last, after one of the scrimmages, Dennison got up, hobbled a moment, +and then sat down again. Collingwood hurried over to him anxiously. + +"Wrenched my ankle," said Dennison. "I guess I'll be all right in a +moment." + +Waring, the Fifth Former, who acted as water-carrier, ran out on the +field with his pail and sponge. Mr. Barclay examined the ankle, then +turned to Collingwood. + +"I think he could go on playing," he said. "But if I were you I'd take +him out now and save him for the St. John's game. You don't want to risk +his being laid up for that." + +Dennison protested, but Collingwood agreed with Mr. Barclay. He turned +and called, "Westby"; and as Westby ran out, Dennison picked himself up +and limped to the side-line. + +It was Harvard's ball in the middle of the field. Though it was only the +first down, Ballard dropped back to kick. + +"Now then, Wes, hang on to it," Collingwood cried as he and Westby +turned and ran to their places in the back field. + +Westby had a faint hope that the kick might go to Collingwood; he didn't +feel quite ready yet to catch the ball; he wanted to be given a chance +to steady down first. But he knew that was exactly what the Harvard +quarterback intended to prevent. + +The ball came sailing, high and twisting; he had to run back to get +under it. Then he planted himself, but the ball as it came down was +slanted off by the wind, so that he had at the last to make a sudden +dash for it; it struck and stuck, hugged to his breast, and then over +he went with a terrific shock, which jarred the ball from his grasp. + +Irving had seen the play with mingled joy and sorrow. It was his brother +who had made the tackle; it was Newell, the other Harvard end, who had +dropped on the fumbled ball. + +Westby and Lawrence got to their feet together; Lawrence's eyes were +dancing with triumphant expectation; the ball was Harvard's now on St. +Timothy's twenty-yard line. And Westby went dully to his position, aware +of the accusing silence of the crowd. + +"All right, Wes; we'll stop them," Collingwood said to him cheerfully. + +Westby did his best and flung himself desperately into the thick of +every scrimmage. The whole team did its best, but Harvard would not be +denied. By short rushes they fought their way down, down, and at last +across the goal line--and the game was won. There were only three minutes +left to play, and in that time neither side scored. + +When Mr. Barclay blew his whistle, the Harvard team assembled and +cheered St. Timothy's, and then St. Timothy's assembled and cheered +Harvard. After that the players walked to the athletic house, beset on +the way by the curious or by friends. + +Westby was the victim of condolences, well meant but ill-timed; he +responded curtly when Blake, pushing near, said to him, "It was awfully +hard luck, Wes--but after that you played a mighty good game." He wished +nothing but to be let alone, he wished no sympathy. He knew that he had +lost the game; that was enough for him. + +In the dressing-room he sat on a bench next to Lawrence Upton and began +putting on his clothes in silence. The other boys were talking all round +him, commenting cheerfully on the plays and on the future prospects of +the teams. + +Lawrence refrained from discussing the game at all; he asked Westby what +St. Timothy's boys he knew at Harvard, and where he expected to room +when he went there; he tried to be friendly. But Westby repelled his +efforts, answering in a sullen voice. At last Lawrence finished +dressing; he picked up his bag and turned to Westby. + +"Look here," he said, and there was a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm going to +be at Harvard the next three years; we're likely to meet. Must a little +hard luck make hard feeling?" + +"Oh, there's no hard feeling," Westby assured him. + +"Glad to hear it. Good-by." Lawrence held out his hand. + +"You're not going to stay for supper?" + +"No. I'm going back with the team on the six o'clock train--hour exam on +Monday. My brother's waiting for me outside; I want to see him for a +while before we start. I hope to come up here some time again--hope I'll +see you." + +"Thanks. I hope so. Good-by." + +The words were all right, but Westby spoke them mechanically. It had +flashed upon him that Lawrence would now learn from his brother the +charge that he had so unjustly and hotly made. And of a sudden he wished +he could prevent that. He would have been glad to go to Irving and +retract it all and apologize; anything to keep Lawrence from hearing of +it. + +Why had he been so slow in dressing--why hadn't he hurried on his clothes +and gone out ahead of Lawrence and made it all right with Irving! + +With a wild thought that it might not yet be too late, he flung on his +coat and rushed from the building--only to see Irving and Lawrence +walking together across the football field. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MASTER AND BOY + + +For several days Westby's unnatural quiet was attributed to his +sensitiveness over the error which had given the Harvard Freshmen their +victory. It was most noticeable at Irving's table; there his bubbling +spirits seemed permanently to have subsided; he wrapped himself in +silence and gloom. His manner towards Irving was that of haughty +displeasure. Carroll was at a loss to understand it and questioned him +about it one day. + +"Oh, I'm just tired of him--tired of hearing his everlasting brag about +his brother," Westby said sharply. + +"He bragged so little about him once you wouldn't believe he had a +brother," replied Carroll. "I don't see that he brags much more about +him now." + +"Well, I see it, and it annoys me," retorted Westby rudely. "I think +I'll see if I can have my seat changed. I'd rather sit at Scabby's +table." + +Mr. Randolph, however, the head of the Upper School, refused to grant +Westby's petition. + +"You don't give any special reason," he said. "You have friends at Mr. +Upton's table; you ought to be contented to stay there. What's the +matter? Are you having friction with some one?" + +"I should be better satisfied if I were at Scarborough's table," said +Westby. + +"We can't gratify every individual preference or whim," replied Mr. +Randolph. + +He asked Irving if he knew of any reason why Westby should be +transferred and told him that the boy had asked for the change. + +"Oh, it's just between him and me," said Irving wearily. "We don't get +on." + +"Then you'd like to have him go, too?" + +"No, I wouldn't. When he's his natural self, I like him. And I haven't +yet given up the hope that some time we'll get together." + +He met Westby's coldness with coolness. But on the morning of the St. +John's game, after breakfast, he drew Westby aside. He held a letter in +his hand. + +"Westby," he said, "I don't know that you will care to hear it, but I +have a message for you from my brother." + +Westby cast down his eyes and reddened. "I don't suppose I shall care to +hear it," he said with a humility that amazed Irving. "But go ahead--give +it to me, Mr. Upton." + +"I don't quite understand--he just asked me to say to you that he hopes +you'll get your chance in the game to-day. He felt you were rather cut +up by your hard luck in the Freshman game." + +"Didn't he--isn't he--" Westby hesitated for an uncomfortable moment, then +blurted out, "Isn't he sore at me, Mr. Upton?" + +"What for?" + +"For saying about him what I did--about his trying to lay Collingwood out +when he tackled." + +"He doesn't know you said it." + +"Oh! Didn't you tell him?" + +"No. The criticism was unjust--there was no use in repeating it." + +"It was unjust." Westby had lowered his voice. "I am very much ashamed, +Mr. Upton." + +"That's all right," said Irving. He took Westby's hand. "I hope too +you'll get your chance in the game." + +"Thank you." Westby spoke humbly. "I hope if I do, I won't make a mess +of it again." + +That game was far different in color and feeling from the one with the +Freshmen on the Saturday before. Long before it began the boys of St. +John's with their blue banners and flags and the boys of St. Timothy's +with their red were ranged on opposite sides of the field, hurling +defiant, challenging cheers across at one another; for St. Timothy's a +band, in which Scarborough beat the drum and was director, paraded back +and forth; the little boys were already hopping up and down and +trembling and squealing with excitement; already their little voices +were almost gone. + +Irving knew that to himself alone was this occasion one of less moving +interest than that of the preceding Saturday; as he stood and looked on +at the waving red and the waving blue and later at the struggle that was +being waged in the middle of the field, he wondered how on this +afternoon that other game between the red and the blue was going, and +how Lawrence was acquitting himself. + +Certainly it could not, he thought, be any more close, more hotly +contested, than this of the two rival schools. All through the first +half they fought each other without scoring. + +Once St. Timothy's had got down to St. John's fifteen-yard line, but +then had been unable to go farther, and Dennison had missed by only a +few feet his try for a goal from the field. + +Early in the second half St. Timothy's met with misfortune. Dennison was +laid out by a hard tackle; when at last he got to his feet, he limped +badly. Louis Collingwood took him by the arm and walked round with him; +Dennison was arguing, protesting. But Collingwood led him towards the +side-line, patting him on the back, and called "Westby!" + +The spectators cheered the injured player who came off so reluctantly; +then they cheered Westby as he ran out upon the field. Irving was near +the group of substitutes when Dennison hobbled in. + +"Hurt much, Denny?" asked Briggs. + +"No--just that same old ankle--hang it all!" Dennison slipped into a +blanket and lowered himself painfully to the ground. + +Irving's eyes were upon Westby; he hoped that this time the boy would +not fail. Westby had an opportunity now to steady his nerves; it was St. +Timothy's ball and only the first down. Collingwood gave the signal; +Irving watched closely, saw Westby take the ball on the pass and dive +into the line. In a moment all the St. Timothy's eleven seemed to be +behind him, hurling him through, and St. Timothy's on the side-lines +waved and shouted, for Westby had gained five yards. + +Collingwood called on him again; he gained three yards more. Irving +shouted with the rest; he turned to Mr. Randolph and said,-- + +"That ought to give Westby confidence." + +"I hope it does; he's so erratic," Mr. Randolph answered. "If only he's +starting in now on one of his brilliant streaks!" + +Lane, the Fifth Form halfback, tried to go round the end on the next +play, but made no gain. Then Westby was driven again at left tackle, but +he got only two yards. + +Collingwood gave the signal for a criss-cross; Lane took the ball, and +passed it to Westby, who was already on the run. Westby got clear of the +St. John's end, and seemed well started for a brilliant run; but their +halfback chased him across the field and finally, by a tremendous diving +tackle, pulled him down. As it was, Westby had made so much of a gain +that the distance had to be measured; he had failed by only a few inches +to make the required amount, and the ball went to St. John's on their +thirty-five-yard line. + +St. John's made two ineffectual rushes; then their fullback, Warner, +prepared to kick. Westby and Collingwood raced to their places in the +back field. + +There was a tense moment on both sides; then Warner sent the ball flying +high and far. It was Westby's ball; the St. John's ends and one of their +tackles came down fast under the kick. + +Irving, with his heart in his throat, watched Westby; the boy, with both +hands raised, was wabbling about, stepping to the right, to the left, +backward, forward; the ends were there in front of him, crouched and +waiting; Collingwood tried to fend them off, but the big tackle rushed +in and upset him, and at the same instant the ball fell into Westby's +arms--and slipped through them. + +One of the ends dropped on the ball, rolled over with it a couple of +times, rolled up on his feet again and was off with it for the St. +Timothy's goal; he had carried it to the twenty-yard line when +Collingwood pulled him down. St. John's were streaming down their side +line, shrieking and waving their blue flags; St. Timothy's stood dazed +and silent. + +"Oh, butterfingers!" cried Briggs, stamping his foot. + +"Just like Wes--he wouldn't make a football player in a thousand years!" +exclaimed Windom. + +Irving heard the comments; he heard other comments. If St. John's should +score now! He hoped they wouldn't; he was sorry enough for Westby. But +St. John's did score, by a series of furious centre rushes, and their +fullback kicked the goal. And when, fifteen minutes later, the referee +blew his whistle, the game was St. John's, by that score of six to +nothing. + +Irving could understand why some of the St. Timothy's boys had tears in +their eyes. It was pretty trying even for him to see the triumphant +visitors rush upon the field, toss the members of their team upon their +shoulders, and bear them away exultantly to the athletic house, yelling +and flaunting their flags, while the St. Timothy's players walked +disconsolately and silently behind them. + +It was trying afterwards to stand by and see those blue-bedecked +invaders form into long-linked lines and dance their serpentine of +victory on St. Timothy's ground. It was trying to stand by and watch +barge after barge bedecked with blue roll away while the occupants +shouted and waved their hats--and left the field to silence and despair. + +But still St. Timothy's did not abandon the scene of their defeat. They +waited loyally in front of the athletic house to welcome and console +their team when it should emerge. Collingwood led the players out, and +the crowd gave them a good one. + +Collingwood said, with a smile, though in an unsteady voice, "Much +obliged, fellows," and waved his hand. + +Then the crowd dispersed; slowly they all walked away. + +That evening, as Irving was about to leave his room to go down to +supper, a boy brought him a telegram. It was from his brother; it said,-- + +"We licked them, twelve to six. Feeling fine. Lawrence." + +At the table Irving tried not to appear too happy. He apologized for his +state of mind and told the boys the cause; those who, like Carroll, were +Harvard sympathizers derived a little cheer from the news, and the +others seemed indifferent to it. Westby was not there. The training +table was vacant, and at the other tables were empty chairs where +substitutes on the team had sat. Mrs. Barclay was entertaining the +football players. + +"I wish I was breaking training there," said Carroll to Irving; "she has +the most wonderful food." + +In the discussion of the game there seemed to be little disposition to +blame Westby. + +"After all," said Blake, "he was only a sub, and he never got so very +much practice in handling punts. I don't think fellows ought to be sore +on him." + +"No, he's just sore on himself," said Carroll. + +"It's hard luck, anyhow; except for that one thing he played mighty +well." + +The mail boy passed, leaving a letter for Irving. It was in his uncle's +handwriting; and his uncle never wrote to him; it was his aunt who kept +him posted on all the news of home. Did this mean that she was ill--or +that some disaster had befallen? + +Irving determined that if it was bad news, he would reserve it until he +should be alone; he put the letter in his pocket and waited anxiously +for the meal to end. + +When he was again in his room, he tore open the envelope and read this +letter:-- + + DEAR IRVING,--I have not helped you and Lawrence much financially. I + thought it would do you and him no harm to try out your own + resources. But I always meant to give you a lift whenever it should + seem wise, and whenever a lift could be most advantageously + arranged. + + Your father was never able to lay up any money; his work was of a + kind that did not permit that. But he would always have shared with + me whatever he had. I have had it in mind to do the same by his + children. I have sold half the farm--the western half--your half and + Lawrence's. There is four thousand dollars in cash for each of you, + and four thousand on a mortgage for each of you at six per cent. + You had better draw out of school-teaching as soon as possible and + study law--if that is still what you most want to do. + + Your aunt is well and sends her love. We are both looking forward + to seeing you and Lawrence at Christmas. + + Your affectionate uncle, + + ROBERT UPTON. + +A flood of warm emotion poured through Irving; his eyes filled. He had +sometimes thought his uncle selfish and narrow--and all the time he had +been working towards this! + +Irving wrote his reply; he wrote also to Lawrence. Then he took his +letters down to the Study building, to post them so that they might go +out with the night mail. On his way he passed the Barclay house; it was +all brightly lighted, the sound of laughter and of gay boy voices rang +out through the open windows; the notes of a piano then subdued them, +and there burst out a chorus in the sonorous measured sweep of "Wacht am +Rhein." + +Irving stood for a few moments and listened; his exultant heart was +responsive to that shouted song. Fellows who could sing like that, he +thought, must have trodden disappointment under heel. + +An hour later, when Irving sat in his room, the boys who had been +entertained at the Barclays' came tramping up the stairs. They were +still singing, but they stopped their song before they entered the +dormitory. Irving met them to say good-night--first Dennison and then +Morrill and then Louis Collingwood. + +"Have you heard the new song Wes has got off, Mr. Upton?" asked +Dennison. + +"No, what's that?" + +"Hit it up, Wes." + +"Oh, choke it off." Collingwood grinned uneasily. + +"Go on, Wes,--strike up. We'll all join in." + +"Wait till I get my banjo--you don't mind, do you, Mr. Upton?" + +"No. I'd like to hear it." + +So Westby hastened to his room and returned, bearing the instrument; and +all the other boys gathered round, except Collingwood, who stood +sheepishly off at one side. Westby twanged the strings and then to the +accompaniment began,-- + + "Across the broad prairies he came from the west, + With fire in his eye and with brawn on his chest; + His arms they were strong and his legs they were fleet; + There was none could outstrip his vanishing feet; + We made him our captain--what else could we do? + You ask who he is? Do I hear you say, 'Who?'" + +Then they all came in on the chorus:-- + + "He is our Lou, he is our honey-Lou, + He is our pride and joy; + He is our Loo-loo, he is our Loo-loo, + He is our Lou-Lou boy." + +"Silly song!" exclaimed Collingwood with disgust. + +"Wes made it up just this evening, at Mrs. Barclay's," said Dennison. +"We were all singing, and after a while Wes edged in to the piano and +sprung this on us. Don't you think it's a good song?" + +"So good that I wish I could furnish inspiration for another," said +Irving. + +Westby joined in the laugh and looked pleased. + +"Good-night, everybody," said Collingwood; he walked away to his room. +The others followed, all except Westby, to whom Irving said,-- + +"Will you wait a moment? I should like to have a little talk with you." +He led the boy into his room and pushed forward his armchair. + +Westby seated himself with his banjo across his knees and looked at +Irving wonderingly. + +"The fellows seem pretty cheerful after their defeat, don't they?" said +Irving. + +A shadow crossed Westby's face. "They've been very decent about it," he +answered. + +Irving put his hand on Westby's arm. + +"Do you know why they're so decent? It's because you've cheered them up +yourself. Who was the fellow, Westby, that said he didn't care who might +make his country's laws if only he might write its songs?" + +[Illustration: A SHADOW CROSSED WESTBY'S FACE] + +"Oh--no--that's got nothing to do with me." + +"You needn't care who makes the touchdowns. Your job is to do something +else. It's no discredit to you if because of lack of training or +adaptability, you can't hang on to a ball at a critical moment. There +are plenty of fellows who can do that.--I suppose you don't see it yet +yourself--but you know the message my brother sent you? I shall tell him +that you got your chance to-day--and took it." + +"I don't see how." + +"Well, I don't know how you managed it exactly. But I could see when +those fellows came upstairs just now that you stood better with them +than you ever had done before. It must have been because you showed the +right spirit--and I know by experience, Westby, that it's awfully hard to +show the right spirit when you're down." + +There was silence for a few moments. + +"I guess I've made it hard for you," said Westby at last, in a low +voice. "You're different from what I thought you were." + +Irving's low laugh of exultation sprang from the heart. "Maybe I am--and +maybe you were right about me, too. A fellow changes. A month ago, I was +wondering what use there could ever be in my studying law--trying to +practise, mixing with men--when I couldn't hold my own with a handful of +boys. For some reason, I don't feel that way any longer.--Well, that's +about all I wanted to say to you, Westby." He stood up. "Good-night." + +Westby rose and shook hands. "Good-night, sir." + +He passed out and quietly closed the door. Irving stood at the window, +gazing beyond the shadowy trees to the dim silver line of the pond, +touched now by the moonlight. There was a knock on the door. + +"Come in," Irving called. + +It was Westby again. + +"Oh, Mr. Upton," he said, "I meant to tell you--I heard at Mr. Barclay's +how the Freshman game came out; I wish, if you would, you'd send your +brother my congratulations." + +"Thank you, I will." + +"Good-night, sir." + +"Good-night." + +The door closed softly. Irving turned again and pressed his forehead +against the window-pane with a smile. It was a smile not merely of +satisfaction because he had won his way at last, though he was not +indifferent to that; he was happy too because this night he felt he had +come close to Westby. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Jester of St. Timothy's, by +Arthur Stanwood Pier + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER OF ST. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Jester of St. Timothy's + +Author: Arthur Stanwood Pier + +Release Date: January 16, 2006 [EBook #17535] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER OF ST. TIMOTHY'S *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Niehof, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 362px;"> +<span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="362" height="551" alt="[Illustration: Front Cover: The Jester of St. Timothy's]" title="Front Cover: The Jester of St. Timothy's" /> +</div> +<h4><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i"></a><span class="pagenum" title="i"></span>OFFICERS OF THE NATIONAL COUNCIL.</h4> + +<p class="block">Honorary President, THE HON. WOODROW WILSON<br /> +Honorary Vice-President, HON. WILLIAM H. TAFT<br /> +Honorary Vice-President, COLONEL THEODORE ROOSEVELT<br /> +President, COLIN H. LIVINGSTONE, Washington, D. C.<br /> +Vice-President, B. L. DULANEY, Bristol, Tenn.<br /> +Vice-President, MILTON A. McRAE, Detroit, Mich.<br /> +Vice-President, DAVID STARK JORDAN, Stanford University, Cal.<br /> +Vice-President, F. L. SEELY, Asheville, N. C.<br /> +Vice-President, A. STAMFORD WHITE, Chicago, Ill.<br /> +Chief Scout, ERNEST THOMPSON SETON, Greenwich, Connecticut<br /> +National Scout Commissioner, DANIEL CARTER BEARD, Flushing, N. Y.</p> + + +<h3>NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS</h3> +<h2>BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA</h2> + +<p class="center">THE FIFTH AVENUE BUILDING, 200 FIFTH AVENUE<br/> +TELEPHONE GRAMERCY 546<br /> +NEW YORK CITY</p> + + +<h4>FINANCE COMMITTEE</h4> +<p class="block">John Sherman Hoyt, Chairman<br /> +August Belmont<br /> +George D. Pratt<br /> +Mortimer L. Schiff<br /> +H. Rogers Winthrop</p> + +<p class="block"><br />GEORGE D. PRATT, Treasurer<br /> +JAMES E. WEST, Chief Scout Executive</p> + + +<h4>ADDITIONAL MEMBERS OF THE EXECUTIVE BOARD</h4> + +<p class="block">Ernest P. Bidwell<br /> +Robert Garrett<br /> +Lee F. Hanmer<br /> +John Sherman Hoyt<br /> +Charles C. Jackson<br /> +Prof. Jeremiah W. Jenks<br /> +William D. Murray<br /> +Dr. Charles P. Neill<br /> +George D. Porter<br /> +Frank Presbrey<br /> +Edgar M. Robinson<br /> +Mortimer L. Schiff<br /> +Lorillard Spencer<br /> +Seth Sprague Terry</p> + +<p style="text-align: right; margin-top: 3em;">July 31st, 1913. +</p> + +<p>TO THE PUBLIC:—</p> + +<p>In the execution of its purpose to give educational value and +moral worth to the recreational activities of the boyhood of America, +the leaders of the Boy Scout Movement quickly learned that to effectively +carry out its program, the boy must be influenced not only in his +out-of-door life but also in the diversions of his other leisure moments. +It is at such times that the boy is captured by the tales of daring +enterprises and adventurous good times. What now is needful is not +that his taste should be thwarted but trained. There should constantly +be presented to him the books the boy likes best, yet always the books +that will be best for the boy. As a matter of fact, however, the boy’s +taste is being constantly vitiated and exploited by the great mass of +cheap juvenile literature.</p> + +<p>[Footer: “DO A GOOD TURN DAILY.” «over»]</p> + +<p>To help anxiously concerned parents and educators to meet this +grave peril, the Library Commission of the Boy Scouts of America has +been organised. EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY is the result of their labors. +All the books chosen have been approved by them. The Commission is +composed of the following members: George F. Bowerman, Librarian, Public +Library of the District of Columbia, Washington, D. C.; Harrison W. +Graver, Librarian, Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, Pa.; Claude G. Leland, +<a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii"></a><span class="pagenum" title="ii"></span>Superintendent, Bureau of Libraries, Board of Education, New York City; +Edward F. Stevens, Librarian, Pratt Institute Free Library, Brooklyn, +New York; together with the Editorial Board of our Movement, William +D. Murray, George D. Pratt and Frank Presbrey, with Franklin K. Mathiews, +Chief Scout Librarian, as Secretary.</p> + +<p>In selecting the books, the Commission has chosen only such as +are of interest to boys, the first twenty-five being either works of +fiction or stirring stories of adventurous experiences. In later lists, +books of a more serious sort will be included. It is hoped that as +many as twenty-five may be added to the Library each year.</p> + +<p>Thanks are due the several publishers who have helped to +inaugurate this new department of our work. Without their co-operation +in making available for popular priced editions some of the best books +ever published for boys, the promotion of EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY would +have been impossible.</p> + +<p>We wish, too, to express our heartiest gratitude to the Library +Commission, who, without compensation, have placed their vast experience +and immense resources at the service of our Movement.</p> + +<p>The Commission invites suggestions as to future books to be +included in the Library. Librarians, teachers, parents, and all others +interested in welfare work for boys, can render a unique service by +forwarding to National Headquarters lists of such books as in their +judgment would be suitable for EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY.</p> + +<p style="margin-left: 20%;">Signed</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<img src="images/ii.png" width="196" height="54" alt="[Signature: James E. West]" title="James E. West" /> +</div> + +<p style="margin-left: 60%;">Chief Scout Executive.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 423px;"><a name="Frontispiece" id="Frontispiece"></a><span class="pagenum" title="Front."></span> +<img src="images/front.jpg" width="423" height="652" alt="[Illustration: LAWRENCE LAUNCHED HIMSELF AND HURLED THE RUNNER BACKWARD (p. 194)]" title="LAWRENCE LAUNCHED HIMSELF AND HURLED THE RUNNER BACKWARD (p. 194)" /> +<span>LAWRENCE LAUNCHED HIMSELF AND HURLED THE RUNNER BACKWARD (p. <a href="#Page_194">194</a>)</span> +</div> + +<hr /><p class="center"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii"></a><span class="pagenum" title="iii"></span>EVERY BOY’S LIBRARY—BOY SCOUT EDITION</p> + +<h1>THE JESTER OF +ST. TIMOTHY’S</h1> + +<h2>By +ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER</h2> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF +BOYS OF ST. TIMOTHY’S, +HARDING OF ST. TIMOTHY’S. ETC.</p> + +<p class="center">ILLUSTRATED</p> + +<p class="center">NEW YORK</p> +<p class="center">GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p class="center">PUBLISHERS</p> +<p class="center"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv"></a><span class="pagenum" title="iv"></span>COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER</p> + +<p class="center">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p> + +<p class="center"><em>Published September 1911</em></p> + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a></div> +<h2><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a><span class="pagenum" title="v"></span>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<div><table border="0" cellspacing="5%" summary="Table of Contents" title="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td class="tocpg">I.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Irving sets forth on his Adventure</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocpg">II.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">He achieves a Name for Himself</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocpg">III.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Westby’s Amusements</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocpg">IV.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">The Baiting of a Master</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocpg">V.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">Master turns Pupil</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocpg">VI.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The Penalty for a Foul</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocpg">VII.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">The Worm begins to turn</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocpg">VIII.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">The Harvard Freshman</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocpg">IX.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">Westby in the Game</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="tocpg">X.</td><td class="toctitle"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Master and Boy</a></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td></tr> +</table> +</div> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi"></a><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii"></a><span class="pagenum" title="vii"></span><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<div><table border="0" cellspacing="5%" summary="List of Illustrations" title="List of illustrations"> +<tr><td class="toctitle">Lawrence launched himself and hurled the runner backward <span style="font-variant: normal;">(p. <a href="#Page_194">194</a>)</span></td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Frontispiece"><em>Frontispiece</em></a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="toctitle">The canoes swung about and made for Each Other</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_52f">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="toctitle">As to who had won, Irving had not the Slightest Idea</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_140f">140</a></td></tr> +<tr><td class="toctitle">A Shadow crossed Westby’s Face</td><td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_220f">220</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><em>From drawings by B. L. Bates</em><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii"></a></p> + + +<hr /> +<h1><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a><span class="pagenum" title="1"></span><a name="THE_JESTER_OF_ST_TIMOTHYS" id="THE_JESTER_OF_ST_TIMOTHYS"></a>THE JESTER OF ST. TIMOTHY’S</h1> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>IRVING SETS FORTH ON HIS ADVENTURE</h3> + + +<p>In the post-office of Beasley’s general store +Irving Upton was eagerly sorting the mail. +His eagerness at that task had not been abated +by the repeated, the daily disappointments +which it had caused him. During the whole +summer month for which he had now been in +attendance as Mr. Beasley’s clerk, the arrival +of the mail had constituted his chief interest. +And because that for which he had been hoping +had failed to come, his thin face had +grown more worried, and the brooding look +was more constantly in his eyes.</p> + +<p>This afternoon his hand paused; he looked +at the superscription on an envelope unbelievingly. +The letter came from St. Timothy’s +School and was addressed to him. He finished +<a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a><span class="pagenum" title="2"></span>distributing the other letters among the boxes, +for people were waiting outside the partition; +then he opened the envelope and read the +type-written enclosure. A flush crept up over +his cheeks, over his forehead; when he raised +his eyes, the brooding look was no longer +in them, but a quiet happiness instead, and +his lips, which had so long been troubled, +were smoothed out in a faint, contented smile. +He read the letter a second time, then put it +in his pocket, and stepped round behind the +counter to sell five cents’ worth of pink gumdrops +to little Abby Lawson.</p> + +<p>When she had gone and the callers after +mail had been satisfied, Irving sat down at +the table in the back of the store. He read the +letter again and mused over it for a few moments +contentedly; then, with it lying open +before him, he proceeded to write an answer.</p> + +<p>After finishing that, he drew from his +pocket some papers—French exercises, done +in a scrawling, unformed hand.</p> + +<p>It was the noon hour, when the people of +the village were all eating their dinners; Mr. +<a name="Page_3" id="Page_3"></a><span class="pagenum" title="3"></span>Beasley had gone home, and Irving was undisturbed. +He helped himself to the crackers +and dried beef which were his luncheon +perquisites, and with these at his elbow and +nibbling them from time to time he set about +correcting his brother’s French.</p> + +<p>He sighed in spite of the happiness which +was pervading him; would Lawrence always +go on confusing some of the forms of <em>être</em> and +<em>avoir</em>? Would he never learn to know the difference +between <em>ils ont</em> and <em>ils sont</em>?</p> + +<p>Irving made his corrections in a neat, pretty +little hand, which of itself seemed to reprove +the student’s awkward scrawl. He turned then +to his own studies, which he was pursuing in a +tattered volume of Blackstone’s Commentaries +on the English Common Law. He did not get +on very fast with this book, and sometimes he +wondered what bearing it could have on the +practice of the law in Ohio at the present time. +But he had been advised to familiarize himself +with the work in the interval before he should +enter a law school—an interval of such doubtful +length!</p> + +<p><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4"></a><span class="pagenum" title="4"></span>Mr. Beasley’s entrance caused him to look +up.</p> + +<p>“I shall be leaving you in less than a +month now, Mr. Beasley,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Got a job to teach, have you?” asked the +storekeeper.</p> + +<p>“Yes—at St. Timothy’s School.”</p> + +<p>“Where may that be?”</p> + +<p>“Up in New Hampshire.”</p> + +<p>“Quite a ways off. But I suppose you don’t +mind that much—having been away to college.”</p> + +<p>“No, I think I’ll like it. Besides,—now +Lawrence will be able to go to college this fall, +and he and I will be pretty near each other. +We’ll be able to spend our holidays together. +I think it’s fine.”</p> + +<p>“It does sound so,” agreed Mr. Beasley. +“Well, I’ll be sorry to lose you, Irving. The +folks all like to have you wait on ’em; you’re +so polite and tidy. But I know clerking in a +country store ain’t much of a job for a college +graduate, and I’m glad you’ve found something +better.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5"></a><span class="pagenum" title="5"></span>“I’m glad if I’ve been of any use to you,” +replied Irving. “I know you didn’t expect +I would be when you took me in. And your +giving me this chance has meant that I could +stay on here and tutor Lawrence this summer +and at the same time pay all my living expenses. +It’s been more of a help than you +know—to Lawrence as well as to me.”</p> + +<p>“You’re both good boys,” said Mr. Beasley. +“But it seems like you’re too shy and quiet +ever to make much of a lawyer, Irving—or +a teacher,” he added, in candid criticism.</p> + +<p>Irving blushed. “Maybe I’ll get over that +in time, Mr. Beasley.”</p> + +<p>“You had better,” observed the storekeeper. +“It’s of no manner of use to anybody—not +a particle. Lawrence, now, is different.”</p> + +<p>Yes, Lawrence was different; the fact impressed +itself that evening on Irving when +his brother came home from the haying field +with his uncle. Lawrence was big and ruddy +and laughing; Irving was slight and delicate +and grave. The two boys went together to<a name="Page_6" id="Page_6"></a><span class="pagenum" title="6"></span> +their room to make themselves ready for supper.</p> + +<p>“We finished the north meadow to-day,” +said Lawrence,—“the whole of it. So don’t +blame me if I go to sleep over French verbs +this evening.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you something that will wake you +up,” Irving replied. “I’m going to teach at +St. Timothy’s School—in New Hampshire. +So your going to college is sure, and we’ll be +only a couple of hours apart.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Irv!” In Lawrence’s exclamation +there was more expressiveness, more joy, than +in all his brother’s carefully restrained statement. +“Oh, Irv! Isn’t it splendid! I think +you’re the finest thing—!” Lawrence grasped +Irving’s hand and at the same time began +thumping him on the back. Then he opened +the door and shouted down the stairs.</p> + +<p>“Uncle Bob! Aunt Ann! Irv has some +great news to-night.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Upton put her head out into the hall; +she was setting the table and held a plate of +bread.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a><span class="pagenum" title="7"></span>“What is it, Irv? Have you—have you +had a letter?”</p> + +<p>There was an anxious, almost a regretful +note in her voice.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Irving. “I’ll tell you about it +when I come down.”</p> + +<p>At the supper table he expounded all the +details. Like Mr. Beasley, his uncle and his +aunt had never heard of St. Timothy’s School. +Irving was able to enlighten them. At college +he had become familiar with its reputation; +it was one of the big preparatory +schools in which the position of teacher had +seemed to him desirable almost beyond the +hope of attainment.</p> + +<p>He recited the terms which had been offered +and which he had accepted: nine hundred dollars +salary the first year, with lodging, board, +washing all provided—so that really it was +the equivalent of fourteen or fifteen hundred +dollars a year. And then there would be the +three months’ vacation, in which he could prosecute +his law studies and earn additional +money.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a><span class="pagenum" title="8"></span>“Sounds good,” said Mr. Upton.</p> + +<p>“Of course I’m very glad,” said Mrs. Upton. +“But how we shall miss you boys! I’ve +got used to having Irving away,—but to be +without Lawrence, too—”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said her husband with a twinkle in +his eyes, “we certainly shall miss Lawrence—especially +in haying time. I’m glad you didn’t +get this news till most of the hay crop was +in. No more farming for you this year, Lawrence.”</p> + +<p>“Why, but there’s all the south meadow +uncut—”</p> + +<p>“I’ll handle that. As long as there was so +much doubt as to whether you’d be able to go +to college or not, I felt that you might be +making yourself useful first of all and studying +only in the odd moments. Now it’s different; +you’ve got to settle down to hard study +and nothing else. And Irving had better devote +himself entirely to you, and leave Mr. +Beasley to struggle along without any college +help.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe he’ll miss me very much,” +Irving admitted. “And you’re right, Uncle +<a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a><span class="pagenum" title="9"></span>Bob; I can accomplish a great deal more +working with Lawrence this next month. I +ought to be able to get him entered in regular +standing.”</p> + +<p>“If I can do that,” cried Lawrence, “perhaps +I’ll be able to earn my way as Irv did—tutoring +and so on—and not have to call on +you or him for any help.”</p> + +<p>“What on earth should I do with nine hundred +a year?” Irving exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Save it for your law school fund,” said +Lawrence.</p> + +<p>Irving shrugged his shoulders grandly. +“Oh, I can earn money.”</p> + +<p>Lawrence gave him an affectionate push. +“Tut!” he said. “Be good to yourself once +in a while.”</p> + +<p>It was a happy family that evening. The +uncle and the aunt rejoiced in the good news, +even while regretting the separation.</p> + +<p>Mr. Upton, the younger brother of the +boys’ father, who had been the village clergyman, +shared his brother’s tastes; he read good<a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a><span class="pagenum" title="10"></span> +books, he would travel to hear a celebrated +man speak, he had ideas which were not +bounded by his farm. He had encouraged +Irving as well as Lawrence to seek a university +education. The two boys were proud, eager +to free themselves from dependence on the +uncle and aunt who, after their father’s +death, had given them a home. Irving had +worked his way through college, hardly ever +asking for help; he had been a capable scholar +and the faculty had found for him backward +students in need of tutoring.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Mr. Upton had been busily engaged +in developing and increasing his farm; +that he was beginning to be prosperous Irving +was aware; that he did not more earnestly insist +upon helping his nephews stimulated their spirit +of independence. They knew that they had +been left penniless; Irving sometimes suspected +his uncle of parsimony, yet this was a trait so +incongruous with Mr. Upton’s genial nature +that Irving never communicated the suspicion +to his brother. Irving felt, too, that his +uncle cared less for him than for Lawrence.<a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a><span class="pagenum" title="11"></span> +Well, that was natural; Irving was humble +there.</p> + +<p>When the dean of the college had said that +it would be inadvisable for Lawrence to make a +start unless he had at least three hundred dollars +at command, it had seemed to Irving a little narrow +on his uncle’s part not to have come forward +at once with that sum. Instead he had merely +given Lawrence the opportunity to work harder +in the hay-field and so increase his small bank +account. And it had soon become apparent +to Irving that unless he and Lawrence could +between them raise the money, they need not +look to their uncle for help beyond that which +he was already giving. Therefore Irving went +into Mr. Beasley’s store, and hoped daily for +the letter which at last had come.</p> + +<p>Day after day the two brothers worked together. +Irving, quick, impatient, sometimes +losing his temper; Lawrence, slow, calm, turning +the edge of the teacher’s sarcasm sometimes +with a laugh, sometimes with a quiet appeal. +Irving always felt ashamed after these +outbreaks and uneasily conscious that Lawrence<a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a><span class="pagenum" title="12"></span> +conducted himself with greater dignity. And +Lawrence forgot Irving’s irritations in gratitude +to him for his help. “It must be a trial +to teach such a numskull,” Lawrence thought; +and at the end of one particularly hard day +he undertook to console his brother by saying, +“Never mind, Irv; it won’t be long now before +you have pupils who aren’t country bumpkins +and don’t need to have things pounded +into their heads with an axe.”</p> + +<p>It had been a rather savage remark that +had called this out; Irving threw down his +book and perching on the arm of his brother’s +chair, put his arm around his neck and begged +his forgiveness.</p> + +<p>“As if I could ever like to teach anybody +else as much as I like to teach you!” he +exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Lawrence; I’ll try to +keep a little better grip on myself.”</p> + +<p>Sometimes it seemed to Irving odd that Lawrence +should be so slow at his books; Irving +did not fail to realize that with the neighbors +or with strangers, in any gathering whatsoever, +Lawrence was always quick, sympathetic, in<a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a><span class="pagenum" title="13"></span>terested; +he himself was the one who seemed +dull and immature.</p> + +<p>It had been so with him at college; he had +been merely the student of books. Social life +he had had none, and only now, with the difference +between his brother and himself enforcing +a clearer vision, had he become aware +of some deficiency in his education. In silence +he envied Lawrence and wished that he too +possessed such winning and engaging traits.</p> + +<p>He realized the contrast with especial keenness +on the afternoon when he and Lawrence +began their eastward journey. There was a +party assembled at the station to see them off,—to +see Lawrence off, as Irving reflected, for +never on his own previous departures had he +occasioned any such demonstration.</p> + +<p>Lawrence was presented on the platform +with various farewell gifts—a pair of knit +slippers from Sally Buxton, who was the prettiest +girl in the valley and who tried to slip +them into his hand when no one else was looking, +and blushed when Nora Carson unfeelingly +called attention to her shy attempt; a<a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a><span class="pagenum" title="14"></span> +pair of mittens from old Mrs. Fitch; a pocket +comb and mirror from the Uptons’ hired man; +a paper bag of doughnuts from Mrs. Brumby.</p> + +<p>There were no gifts for Irving; indeed, he +had never cared or thought much, one way or +the other, about any of these people clustered +on the platform. Only this summer, seeing them +so frequently in Mr. Beasley’s store, he had felt +the first stirrings of interest in them; now for +the first time he was aware of a wistfulness +because they did not care for him as they did +for Lawrence.</p> + +<p>Mr. Beasley came up to him. “So you’re +off—both of you. Funny thing—I guess +from the looks of you two, if a stranger was to +come along, he’d pick Lawrence out for the +teacher and you for the schoolboy. Lawrence +looks as old as you, and handles himself more +grown up, somehow.”</p> + +<p>“He’s bigger,” Irving sighed.</p> + +<p>“Yes, ’t ain’t only that,” drawled Mr. Beasley. +“Though ’t is a pity you’re so spindling; +good thing for a teacher to be able to lay on +the switch good and hard when needed.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a><span class="pagenum" title="15"></span>“I don’t believe they punish with the switch +at St. Timothy’s.”</p> + +<p>“Then I guess they don’t learn the boys +much. How you going to keep order among +boys if you don’t use the switch?”</p> + +<p>At that moment the train came whistling +round the bend. Irving caught up his bag, +turned and grasped Mr. Beasley’s hand, then +plunged into the crowd which had closed about +his brother. His aunt turned and flung her +arms about him and kissed him; his uncle +gave him a good-natured pat on the back and +then stooped and said in his ear, “Irv, if you +ever get into trouble,—go to Lawrence.”</p> + +<p>There was the merry, kindly twinkle in his +eyes, the quizzical, humorous smile on his lips +that made Irving know his uncle meant always, +deep in his heart, to do the right thing.</p> + +<p>In the train he pondered for a few moments +that last word of advice, wondering if it had +been sincere. It rather hurt his dignity, to be +referred to his younger brother in that way—and +yet it pleased him too; he was glad to +have Lawrence appreciated.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a><span class="pagenum" title="16"></span>Irving spent a day in Cambridge, helping +his brother to get settled in the rooms which +he himself had occupied for four years. Then +he bade Lawrence good-by and resumed his +journey to New Hampshire.</p> + +<p>It was a pleasant September morning when +he presented himself, a sallow, thin-cheeked, +narrow-shouldered, bespectacled youth, before +Dr. Davenport, the rector of St. Timothy’s +School. The sunlight streamed in through the +southern windows of the spacious library, +throwing mellow tints on the bindings of the +books which lined the opposite wall from floor +to ceiling. It was all so bright that Irving, +who was troubled with weak eyes, advanced +into it blinking; and perhaps that was one +reason for the disappointment which flitted +across the rector’s face—and which Irving, +who was acutely sensitive, perceived in his +blinking glance. He flushed, aware that somehow +his appearance was too timorous.</p> + +<p>But Dr. Davenport chatted with him pleasantly, +told him how highly the college authorities +had recommended him, and only laughingly<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a><span class="pagenum" title="17"></span> +intimated a surprise at finding him so young-looking.</p> + +<p>“I hope that teaching won’t age you prematurely,” +he added. “You will probably have +some trying times with the boys—we all do. +But it oughtn’t to be hard for you—especially +as you will be thrown most of all with the +older boys. Mr. Williams, who has had charge of +the Sixth Form dormitory at the Upper School, +is ill with typhoid fever and will probably not +come back this term. So I’m going to put +you in charge there. You will have under you +twenty fellows, some of them the best in the +school. But just because they are in some +ways pretty mature, don’t be—don’t be self-effacing.”</p> + +<p>“I understand,” said Irving. He sat on the +edge of his chair, and crumpled his handkerchief +nervously in his hands. And all the time—with +his singular clearness of intuition—he +was aware of the doubt and distrust passing +through Dr. Davenport’s mind.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be afraid of the boys or show embarrassment +or discomfort before them,” con<a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a><span class="pagenum" title="18"></span>tinued +Dr. Davenport, “and on the other hand +don’t try to cultivate dignity by being cold +and austere. Be natural with them—but always +be the master.—There!” he broke off, +smiling, for he saw that Irving looked worried +and seemed to be taking all this as personal +criticism—“that’s the talk that I always give +to a new master; and now I’m done. Here is +a printed copy of the rules and regulations +which I advise you to study; you must try to +familiarize yourself with our customs before +any of the boys arrive. To-morrow the new +boys will come, and you will report for duty +at the Gymnasium, where the entrance examinations +will be held. You will find your room +in the Sixth Form dormitory, at the Upper +School. I hope you will like the life here, Mr. +Upton—and I wish you every possible success +in it.”</p> + +<p>The rector gave him an encouraging handshake +and another friendly smile. But Irving +departed feeling depressed and afraid. He +had seen that the rector was disappointed in +him—in his appearance, in his manner. And<a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a><span class="pagenum" title="19"></span> +the rector’s little speech had given him the +clue. Until now, he had not much considered +how large a part of his work would be in the +management and the discipline of the boys; +the mere teaching of them was what had been +in his mind, and for that he felt perfectly +competent. In college, that was all that the +tutoring, in which he had been so successful, +meant. But, confronted by the necessity of +establishing and maintaining friendly human +relations with a lot of strange boys, Irving +for the first time questioned his qualifications, +realizing that the rector too was questioning +them.</p> + +<p>He became more cheerful the next day, +when the new boys began to arrive and he +found himself at once with work to do. He +had mastered pretty thoroughly the names of +the buildings and the geography of the place, +and it was rather pleasant to be able to give +information and directions to those younger +and more ignorant than himself.</p> + +<p>It was pleasant, too, to have one mother who +was wandering round vaguely with her small<a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a><span class="pagenum" title="20"></span> +son and to whom he shyly proffered assistance, +show such appreciation of his courtesy +and end by appealing to him to keep always +a friendly eye on her little forlorn Walter. +As it turned out, Irving never afterwards +came much into contact with the boy, who +lived in a different building and was not in +any of his classes; he asked about him from +time to time, and discovered that Walter was +a mischievous person, not troubled by homesickness.</p> + +<p>But most agreeable and reassuring was it +to take charge of the examination-room, where +the new boys were undergoing the tests of +their scholarship. Most of them were candidates +for the Second, Third, and Fourth +Forms, and their ages ranged from twelve to +fifteen; Irving sat at a desk on the platform +and surveyed them while they worked, or tiptoed +down the aisle in response to an appeal +from some uplifted hand.</p> + +<p>He had come so recently from examination-rooms +where he had been one of the pupils +that this experience exhilarated him; it conferred<a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a><span class="pagenum" title="21"></span> +upon him an authority that he enjoyed. +He liked to be addressed by these nice-mannered +young boys as “sir,” and to be recognized +by them so unquestioningly as a person +to whom deference must be shown. Altogether +this first day with the new boys inspired +him with confidence, and at the end of +it he attacked the pile of examination books +enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>Mr. Barclay aided him in that task; Mr. +Barclay was a young master also, comparatively, +though he had had several years’ experience. +Irving was attracted to him at once, +and was grateful for the way in which he +made suggestions when there was some uncertainty +as to how a boy should be graded.</p> + +<p>Irving liked, too, the genial chuckle which +preceded an invitation to inspect some candidate’s +egregious blunder; Irving would read +and smile quietly, unaware that Barclay was +watching him and wondering how appreciative +he might be of the ludicrous.</p> + +<p>Two nights Irving spent all alone in the +Sixth Form dormitory; it amused him to walk<a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a><span class="pagenum" title="22"></span> +up and down the corridors with the list of +those to whom rooms there had been assigned. +“Collingwood, Westby, Scarborough, Morrill, +Anderson, Baldersnaith, Hill”—some +of them had occupied these rooms as Fifth +Formers, and Irving had asked Mr. Barclay +about them.</p> + +<p>Louis Collingwood was captain of the school +football team; Scarborough was captain of +the school crew.</p> + +<p>“Neither of them will give you any trouble,” +said Barclay. “Scarborough used to be a +cub, but he has developed very much in the +last year or two, and now he and Collingwood +are the best-liked fellows in the school. They +have a proper sense of their responsibility as +leaders of the school, and are more likely to +help you than to make trouble. Morrill is +their faithful follower, though a little harum-scarum +at times. Westby—” the master hesitated +over that name and looked at Irving +with a measuring glance—“Westby is what +you might call the school jester. He’s very +popular with the boys—not equally so with<a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a><span class="pagenum" title="23"></span> +all the masters. Personally I’m rather fond +of him. He’s almost too quick-witted sometimes.”</p> + +<p>That evening Barclay took the new master +home to dine with him. Mrs. Barclay was as +cordial and as kind as her husband; Irving +began to feel more than satisfied with his +surroundings.</p> + +<p>“Pity you’re not married, Upton,” Barclay +said, half jokingly. “You’d escape +keeping dormitory if you were—which you’ll +find the meanest of all possible jobs. And +then if your wife’s the right kind—the boys +have to be pretty decent to you in order to +keep on her good side.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Barclay laughed. “I suppose that’s +the only reason they’re pretty decent to you, +William!—You’ll find it easy, Mr. Upton,—for +the reason that they’re a pretty decent +lot of boys.”</p> + +<p>The next day at noon the old boys began to +arrive. Irving was coming out of the auditorium, +where he had been correcting the last set +of examination papers, when a barge drew up<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a><span class="pagenum" title="24"></span> +before the study building and boys clutching +hand-bags tumbled out and hurried into the +building to greet the rector.</p> + +<p>Irving stood for a few moments looking on +with interest: other barges kept coming over +the hill, interspersed with carriages, in which +a few arrived more magnificently.</p> + +<p>It occurred to Irving that perhaps he had +better hasten to his dormitory in order to be +on hand when his charges should begin to appear; +he was just starting away when three +boys arm in arm rushed out of the study +building. They came prancing up to him, all +smiles and twinkles; they were boys of seventeen +or eighteen. They confronted him, blocking +his path; and the one in the middle, a +slim, straight fellow in a blue suit, said,—</p> + +<p>“Hello, new kid! What name?”</p> + +<p>A blush of embarrassment mounted in Irving’s +cheeks; feeling it, he conceived it all +the more advisable to assert his dignity. So he +said without a smile, in a constrained voice,—</p> + +<p>“I am not a new kid. I am a master.”</p> + +<p>The three boys who had been beaming on<a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a><span class="pagenum" title="25"></span> +him with good humor in their eyes stared +blankly. Then the one in the middle, with a +sudden whoop of laughter, swung the two +others round and led them off at a run; and +as they went, their delighted laughter floated +back to Irving’s ears.</p> + +<p>His cheeks were tingling, almost as if they +had been slapped. He followed the boys at +a distance; they moved towards the Upper +School. His heart sank; what if they were in +his dormitory?</p> + +<p>He entered the building just as the last of +the three was going up the Sixth Form dormitory +stairs.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a><span class="pagenum" title="26"></span>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>HE ACHIEVES A NAME FOR HIMSELF</h3> + + +<p>At the foot of the staircase Irving hesitated +until the sound of the voices and +footsteps had ceased. The three boys had not +seen him when he had entered; he was wondering +whether he had better be courageous, +go right up after them, and introduce himself,—just +as if they had not caught him off his +guard and put him into a ridiculous position,—or +delay a little while in the hope that +their memory of it would be less keen.</p> + +<p>He decided that he had better be courageous. +When he reached the top floor, he +went into his room; he was feeling nervous +over the prospect of confronting his charges, +and he wished to be sure that his hair and his +necktie looked right. While he was examining +himself in the mirror, he heard a door open on +the corridor and a boy call, “Lou! Did you +<a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a><span class="pagenum" title="27"></span>know that Mr. Williams won’t be back this +term?”</p> + +<p>Farther down the corridor a voice answered, +“No! What’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Typhoid. Mr. Randolph told me.”</p> + +<p>“Who’s taken his place?” It was another +voice that asked this question.</p> + +<p>“A new man—named Upton. I haven’t +laid eyes on him yet.”</p> + +<p>“Wouldn’t it be a joke—!” The speaker +paused to laugh. “Suppose it should turn out +to be the new kid!”</p> + +<p>“‘I am not a new kid; I am a master.’”</p> + +<p>The mimicry was so accurate that Irving +winced and then flushed to the temples. In +the laughter that it produced he closed his +door quietly and sat down to think. He +couldn’t be courageous now; he felt that he +could not step out and face those fellows +who were laughing at him. Of course they +were the ones who ought to be embarrassed +by his appearance, not he; but Irving felt +they would lend one another support and +brazen it through, and that he would be the<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a><span class="pagenum" title="28"></span> +one to exhibit weakness. He decided that he +must wait and try to make himself known to +each one of them separately—that only by +such a beginning would he be likely to engage +their respect.</p> + +<p>It was the first time that he had been +brought face to face with his pitiable diffidence. +He was ashamed; he thought of how +differently Lawrence would have met the situation—how +much more directly he would +have dealt with it. Irving resolved that hereafter +he would not be afraid of any multitude +of boys. But he refrained from making his +presence known in the dormitory that afternoon.</p> + +<p>At half past five o’clock he went downstairs +to the rooms of Mr. Randolph, who had +charge of the Upper School. Mr. Marcy, the +Fifth Form dormitory master, and Mr. Wythe, +the Fourth Form dormitory master, were also +there. They were veterans, comparatively, and +it was to meet them and benefit by what they +could tell him that Irving had been invited. +All three congratulated him on his good<a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a><span class="pagenum" title="29"></span> +fortune in obtaining the Sixth Form dormitory.</p> + +<p>“The older they are, the less trouble they +are,” said Wythe. “My first year I was over +at the Lower School, looking after the little +kids. Half the time they’re sick and whimpering +and have to be coddled, and the rest of +the time they have to be spanked.”</p> + +<p>“It hardly matters what age they are,” +lamented Marcy, pessimistically. “There’s +bound to be a dormitory disorder once in +so often.”</p> + +<p>“What do you do in that case?” asked +Irving.</p> + +<p>“Jump hard on some one,” answered Wythe. +“Try to get the leader of it, but if you can’t +get him, get somebody. Report him,—give +him three sheets.”</p> + +<p>“That means writing Latin lines for three +hours on half-holidays?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and six marks off in Decorum for +the week. Of course they’ll come wheedling +round you, wanting to be excused; you have +to use your own discretion about that.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a><span class="pagenum" title="30"></span>“Do you have any Sixth Form classes?” +asked Marcy.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Irving answered. “In Geometry.”</p> + +<p>“That means you’ll have to take the upper +hand and hold it, right from the start. If you +have one crowd in dormitory to look after and +another crowd in class, you can afford to relax +a little now and then; but when it’s the +same boys in both—they watch for any sign +of weakening.”</p> + +<p>“There will be only two of them at your +table, any way, Mr. Upton,” said Randolph. +He passed over a list. “The others are all +Fourth and Fifth Formers—only Westby +and Carroll from the Sixth!”</p> + +<p>“Westby!” Wythe sighed. “Maybe we +were premature in congratulating you. I’d +forgotten about Westby.”</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with him?” asked +Irving.</p> + +<p>“His cleverness, and his attractiveness. He +smiles and smiles and is a villain still. He was +in my dormitory year before last and kept it in +a constant turmoil. And yet if you have any +<a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a><span class="pagenum" title="31"></span>sense of humor at all you can’t help being +amused by him—even sympathizing with him—though +it’s apt to be at your own expense.”</p> + +<p>“He’s perfectly conscienceless,” declared +Marcy.</p> + +<p>“And yet there’s no real harm in him,” +said Randolph.</p> + +<p>“He seems to be something of a puzzle.” +Irving spoke uneasily. “And he’s to be at +my table—I’m to have a table?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes. In fact, one or two of the Sixth +Formers—Scarborough, for instance—have +tables. But we don’t let all the Sixth Formers +eat together; we try to scatter them. And +Westby and Carroll have fallen to your lot.”</p> + +<p>“If you happen to see either of them before +supper, I should like to meet them,” Irving +said.</p> + +<p>He felt that if he could make their acquaintance +separately and without witnesses, +he could produce a better impression than if +he waited and confronted them before a whole +table of strange faces.</p> + +<p>But as it happened, that was just the way<a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a><span class="pagenum" title="32"></span> +that he did meet Westby and Carroll. When +the supper bell sounded, the hallway of the +Upper School was crowded with boys, examining +the schedule which had been posted and +which assigned them to their seats in the +dining-room. Irving, after waiting nervously +until more than half the number had entered +the dining-room and deriving no help from +any of the other masters, went in and stood +at the head of the third table, as he had been +instructed to do. Four or five boys were already +standing there at their places; they +looked at him with curiosity and bowed to him +politely. The crowd as it entered thinned; +Irving was beginning to hope that Westby and +Carroll had gone elsewhere,—and then, just +as Mr. Randolph was mounting to the head +table on the dais, two boys slipped in and stood +at the seats at Irving’s right. He recognized +them as having been two of the three who +had laughed when he had proclaimed himself a +master. One was the slim, tall fellow who had +called him “new kid.”</p> + +<p>For a moment at Irving’s table, after the<a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a><span class="pagenum" title="33"></span> +boys had rattled into their seats, there was +silence. In front of Irving were a platter of +cold tongue and a dish of beans, and he began +to put portions of each on the plates piled before +him. Then as he passed the first plate +along the line he looked up and said, “I think +we’d better find out who everybody is. So +each fellow, as he gets his plate, will please +sing out his name.”</p> + +<p>That was not such a bad beginning; there +was a general grin which broadened into a +laugh when the first boy blushingly owned to +the name of Walnut. Then came Lacy and +Norris, and then Westby.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Irving. “I think you’re to be +in my dormitory, aren’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I believe so.” Westby looked at him quizzically, +as if expecting him to make some reference +to their encounter; but Irving passed +on to his next neighbor, Carroll, and then began +with the other side of the table.</p> + +<p>He liked the appearance of the boys; they +were quiet-looking and respectful, and they +had been responsive enough to his suggestion<a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a><span class="pagenum" title="34"></span> +about announcing their names. A happy inspiration +told him that so long as he could +keep on taking the initiative with boys, he +would have no serious trouble. But it was one +thing to recognize an effective mode of conduct, +and another to have the resourcefulness +for carrying it out. Irving was just thinking +what next he should say, when Westby fell +upon him.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton,”—Westby’s voice was curiously +distinct, in spite of its quietness,—“wasn’t +it funny, our taking you for a new +kid this afternoon?”</p> + +<p>Because the question was so obviously +asked in a lull to embarrass him, Irving was +embarrassed. The interest of all the boys at +the table had been skillfully excited, and +Westby leaned forward in front of Carroll, +with mischievous eyes and smile. Irving felt +his color rising; he felt both abashed and +annoyed.</p> + +<p>“Why, yes,” he said hesitatingly. “I—I +was a little startled.”</p> + +<p>“Did they take you for a new kid, Mr. Up<a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a><span class="pagenum" title="35"></span>ton?” +asked Blake, the Fifth Former, who +sat on Irving’s left.</p> + +<p>“For a moment, yes,” admitted Irving, +anxious not to pursue the subject.</p> + +<p>But Westby proceeded to explain with +gusto, while the whole table listened. “Lou +Collingwood and Carrie here and I were in +front of the Study, and out came Mr. Upton. +And Lou wanted to nail him for the Pythians, +so we all pranced up to him, and I said, +‘Hello, new kid; what name, please?’—just +like that; didn’t I, Mr. Upton?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Irving grudgingly. He had an +uneasy feeling that he was being made an +object of general entertainment; certainly the +eyes of all the boys at the table were fixed +upon him smilingly.</p> + +<p>“What happened then?” asked the blunt +Blake.</p> + +<p>“Why, then,” continued Westby, “Mr. +Upton told us that he wasn’t a new kid at +all, but a new master. You may imagine we +were surprised—weren’t we, Mr. Upton?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I could hardly tell—”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a><span class="pagenum" title="36"></span>“The joke was certainly on us. As the +French say, it was a <em>contretemps</em>. To think +that after all the years we’d been here, we +couldn’t tell a new kid from a new master!”</p> + +<p>Irving was mildly bewildered. He could +not quite determine whether Westby was telling +the story more as a joke on himself or on +him. Anyway, in spite of the temporary embarrassment +which they had caused him, there +seemed to be nothing offensive in the remarks. +He liked Westby’s face; it was alert +and good-humored, and the cajoling quality +in the boy’s voice and the twinkle in his eyes +were quite attractive. In fact, his manner +during supper was so agreeable that Irving +quite forgot it was this youth whom he had +overheard mimicking him: “I am not a new +kid; I am a master.”</p> + +<p>After supper there were prayers in the +Common Room; then all the boys except the +Sixth Formers went to the Study building to +sit for an hour under the eyes of a master, to +read or write letters. On subsequent evenings +they would have to employ this period in<a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a><span class="pagenum" title="37"></span> +studying, but as yet no lessons had been +assigned; the classroom work had not begun. +The Sixth Form were exempt from the necessity +of attending Study, and had the privilege +of preparing their lessons in their own +rooms. Irving found, on going up to his +dormitory, that the boys were visiting one +another, helping one another unpack, darting +up and down the corridor and carrying on +loud conversations. He decided, as there were +no lessons for them to prepare, not to interfere; +their sociability seemed harmless enough.</p> + +<p>So, leaving the door of his room open that +he might hear and suppress any incipient +disorder, he began a letter to Lawrence. He +thought at first that he would confide to his +brother the little troubles which were annoying +him. But when he set about it, they +seemed really too petty to transcribe; surely +he was man enough to bear such worries +without appealing to a younger brother for +advice.</p> + +<p>There was a loud burst of laughter from a +room in which several boys had gathered. It<a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a><span class="pagenum" title="38"></span> +was followed by the remark in Westby’s +pleasant, persuasive voice,—</p> + +<p>“Look out, fellows, or we’ll have Kiddy +Upton down on us.”</p> + +<p>“Kiddy Upton!” another voice exclaimed +in delight, and there was more laughter.</p> + +<p>Kiddy Upton! So that was to be his name. +Of course boys gave nicknames to their +teachers,—Irving remembered some appellations +that had prevailed even at college. +But none of them seemed so slighting or so +jeering as this of Kiddy; and Irving flushed +as he had done when he had been taken for a +“new kid.” But now his sensitiveness was +even more hurt; it wounded him that Westby, +that pleasant, humorous person, should have +been the one to apply the epithet.</p> + +<p>Westby began singing “The Wearing of +the Green,” to an accompaniment on a banjo. +Presently four or five voices, with extravagant +brogues, were uplifted in the chorus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“’Tis the most disthressful counthry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That ever there was seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For they’re hanging men and women too<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For wearin’ of the green.”<br /></span></div></div> + +<p><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a><span class="pagenum" title="39"></span>There was much applause; boys from other +rooms went hurrying down the corridor. The +banjo-player struck up “The Road to Mandalay;” +again Irving recognized Westby’s +voice.</p> + +<p>Irving decided that he must not be thin-skinned; +it was his part to step up, be genial, +make himself known to all these boys who +were to be under his care, and show them that +he wished to be friendly. He did not wait to +debate with himself the wisdom of this resolve +or to consider how he should proceed; +he acted on the impulse. He walked down +the corridor to the third room on the left—the +door of Westby’s room, from which the +sounds of joviality proceeded. He knocked; +some one called “Come in;” and Irving +opened the door.</p> + +<p>Three boys sat in chairs, three sat on the +bed; Westby himself was squatting cross-legged +on the window seat, with the banjo +across his knees. They all rose politely when +Irving entered.</p> + +<p>“I thought I would drop in and make your +<a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a><span class="pagenum" title="40"></span>acquaintance,” said Irving. “We’re bound +to know one another some time.”</p> + +<p>“My name’s Collingwood,” said the boy +nearest him, offering his hand. He was a +healthy, light-haired, solidly put together +youth, with a genial smile. “This is Scarborough, +Mr. Upton.”</p> + +<p>The biggest of them all came forward at +that and shook hands. Irving thought that +his deep-set dark eyes were disconcertingly +direct in their gaze; and a lock of black hair +overhung his brow in a far from propitiating +manner. Yet his bearing was dignified and +manly; Irving felt that he might be trusted +to show magnanimity.</p> + +<p>“Here’s Carroll,” continued Collingwood; +and Irving said, “Oh, I know Carroll; we sat +together at supper.” Carroll said nothing, +merely smiled in an agreeable, non-committal +manner; so far it was all that Irving had +discovered he could do.</p> + +<p>“That fellow with the angel face is Morrill,” +Collingwood went on, “and the one next +to him, with the aristocratic features, is Baldersnaith,<a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a><span class="pagenum" title="41"></span> +and this red-head here is Dennison,—and +that’s Westby.”</p> + +<p>Irving, shaking hands round the circle, said, +“Oh, I know Westby.”</p> + +<p>“Sit down, won’t you, Mr. Upton?” Westby +pushed his armchair forward.</p> + +<p>“Thank you; don’t let me interrupt the +singing.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe you’ll join us?”</p> + +<p>Irving shook his head. “I wish I could. +But please go on.”</p> + +<p>Westby squatted again on the window-seat +and plucked undecidedly at the banjo-strings. +Then he cleared his throat and launched upon +a negro melody; he sang it with the unctuous +abandon of the darkey, and Irving listened +and looked on enviously, admiring the display +of talent. Westby sang another song, and then +turned and pushed up the window.</p> + +<p>“Awfully hot for this time of year, isn’t +it?” he said. “Fine moonlight night; wouldn’t +it be great to go for a swim?”</p> + +<p>“Um!” said Morrill, appreciatively.</p> + +<p>“Will you let us go, Mr. Upton?” Westby<a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a><span class="pagenum" title="42"></span> +asked the question pleadingly. “Won’t you +please let us go? It’s such a fine warm moonlight +night—and it isn’t as if school had +really begun, you know.”</p> + +<p>“But I think the rules don’t permit your +being out at this time of night, do they?” +said Irving.</p> + +<p>“Well, but as I say, school hasn’t really +begun yet. And besides, Scabby here is almost +as good as a master—and so is Lou Collingwood; +I’m the only really irresponsible one +in the bunch—”</p> + +<p>“Where do you go to swim?”</p> + +<p>“In the pond, just beyond the isthmus—only +about a quarter of a mile from here. +Come on, fellows, Mr. Upton’s going to let +us go.”</p> + +<p>Irving laughed uneasily. “Oh, I didn’t say +that. If Mr. Randolph is willing that you +should go, I wouldn’t object.”</p> + +<p>“You’re in charge of this dormitory,” argued +Westby. “And if you gave us permission, +Mr. Randolph wouldn’t say anything.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t feel that I can make an exception +to the rules,” said Irving.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a><span class="pagenum" title="43"></span>“But school hasn’t really begun yet,” persisted +Westby.</p> + +<p>“I think it really has, so far as observing +the rules is concerned,” replied Irving.</p> + +<p>“You might go with us, sir—and that +would make it all right.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t believe I want to go in swimming +this evening.”</p> + +<p>“I’m awfully afraid you’re going to be +just like granite, Mr. Upton,” sighed Westby,—“the +man with the iron jaw.” He turned +on the others a humorous look; they all were +smiling. Irving felt uncomfortable again, suspecting +that Westby was making game of him, +yet not knowing in what way to meet it—except +by silence.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what I will do with you to-morrow, +Wes,” said Collingwood. “I’ll challenge +you to that water duel that we were to +have pulled off last June.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Lou,” said Westby. “Carrie +here will be my trusty squire and will paddle +my canoe.”</p> + +<p>Carroll grinned his assent.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a><span class="pagenum" title="44"></span>“I’ll pick Ned Morrill for my second,” +said Collingwood. “And Scabby can be referee.”</p> + +<p>“What’s a water duel?” asked Irving.</p> + +<p>“They go out in canoes, two in each canoe,” +answered Scarborough. “One fellow +paddles, and the other stands up in the bow +with a long pole and a big fat sponge tied to +the end of it. Then the two canoes manœuvre, +and try to get within striking distance, and +the fellow or canoe that gets upset first loses. +We had a tournament last spring, and these +two pairs came through to the finals, but never +fought it out—baseball or tennis or something +always interfered.”</p> + +<p>“It must be quite an amusing game,” said +Irving.</p> + +<p>“Come up to the swimming hole to-morrow +afternoon if you want to see it,” said Collingwood, +hospitably. “I’ll just about drown +Westby. It will be a good show.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you; I’d like to—”</p> + +<p>“But don’t you think, Mr. Upton,”—again +it was Westby, with his cajoling voice and his<a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a><span class="pagenum" title="45"></span> +wheedling smile,—“that I might have just +one evening’s moonlight practice for it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t believe you need any practice.”</p> + +<p>“But you said I might if Mr. Randolph +would consent. I don’t see why you shouldn’t +be independent, as well as liberal.”</p> + +<p>There was a veiled insinuation in this, for +all the good-natured, teasing tone, and Irving +did not like it.</p> + +<p>“No,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid +I can’t let you go swimming to-night.—I’m +glad to have met you all.” And so he took +his departure, and presently the sound of +banjo and singing rose again from Westby’s +room.</p> + +<p>Irving proceeded to visit the other rooms of +the dormitory and to make the acquaintance +of the occupants—boys engaged mostly in +arranging bureau drawers or hanging pictures. +They were all friendly enough; it +seemed to him that he could get on with boys +individually; it was when they faced him in +numbers that they alarmed him and caused<a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a><span class="pagenum" title="46"></span> +his manner to be hesitating and embarrassed. +One big fellow named Allison was trying to +hang a picture when Irving entered; it was a +large and heavy picture, and Irving held it +straight while Allison stood on a chair and set +the hook on the moulding. Allison thanked +Irving with the gratitude of one unaccustomed +to receiving such consideration; indeed, his +uncouthness and unkemptness made him one +of those unfortunate boys who suffered now +and then from persecution. Irving learned afterwards +that the crowd he had met in Westby’s +room hung together and were the leaders +not merely in the affairs of the dormitory, but +of the school.</p> + +<p>At half past nine the big bell on the Study +building rang twice—the signal for the boys +to go to their respective rooms. Irving had +been informed of the little ceremony which +was the custom; he stepped out in front of his +door at the end of the corridor, and one after +another the boys came up, shook hands with +him, and bade him good-night. Westby came +to him with the engaging and yet somewhat<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a><span class="pagenum" title="47"></span> +disquieting smile which recalled to Irving Mr. +Wythe’s words, “He smiles and smiles, but +is a villain still.” It was a smile which seemed +to suggest the discernment and enjoyment of +all one’s weak spots.</p> + +<p>“<em>Good</em>-night, Mr. Upton,” said Westby, +and his voice was excessively urbane. It made +Irving look forward to a better acquaintance +with both expectancy and apprehension.</p> + +<p>The first morning of actual school work +went well enough; Irving met his classes, +which were altogether in mathematics, assigned +them lessons, and managed to keep +them and himself busy. From one of them he +brought away some algebra exercises, which +he spent part of the afternoon in correcting. +When he had finished this work, the invitation +to witness the water duel occurred to his mind.</p> + +<p>He found no other master to bear him company, +so he set off by himself through the +woods which bordered the pond behind the +Gymnasium. He came at last to the “isthmus”—a +narrow dyke of stones which cut off a +long inlet and bridged the way over to a<a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a><span class="pagenum" title="48"></span> +wooded peninsula that jutted out into the +pond. On the farther side of this peninsula, +secluded behind trees and bushes, was the +swimming hole.</p> + +<p>As Irving approached, he heard voices; he +drew nearer and saw the bare backs of boys +undressing and heard then the defiances +which they were hurling at one another—phrased +in the language of Ivanhoe.</p> + +<p>“Nay, by my halidome, but I shall this day +do my devoir right worthily upon the body of +yon false knight,” quoth Westby, as he carefully +turned his shirt right side out.</p> + +<p>“A murrain on thee! Beshrew me if I do +not spit thee upon my trusty lance,” replied +Collingwood, as he drew on his swimming +tights.</p> + +<p>Then some one trotted out upon the spring-board, +gave a bounce and a leap, and went +into the water with a splash.</p> + +<p>“How is it, Ned?” called Westby; and +Irving came up as Morrill, reaching out for a +long side stroke, shouted, “Oh, fine—warm +and fine.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a><span class="pagenum" title="49"></span>“Hello, Mr. Upton.” It was Baldersnaith +who first saw him; Baldersnaith, Dennison, +and Smythe were fully dressed and were sitting +under a tree looking on.</p> + +<p>“You’re just in time,” said Collingwood.</p> + +<p>Scarborough, stripped like Westby and +Carroll and Morrill and Collingwood, was out +on the pond, paddling round in a canoe. He +was crouched on one knee in the middle, and +the canoe careened over with his weight, so +that the gunwale was only an inch or two +above the surface. He was evidently an expert +paddler, swinging the craft round, this +way and that, without ever taking the paddle +out of the water.</p> + +<p>Two other canoes were hauled up near the +spring-board; Carroll was bending over one of +them.</p> + +<p>“Bring me my lethal weapon, Carrie,” +Westby commanded. “I want to show Mr. +Upton.—Is the button on tight?”</p> + +<p>Carroll produced from the canoe a long +pole with an enormous sponge fastened to one +end; he pulled at the sponge and announced,<a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a><span class="pagenum" title="50"></span> +“Yes, the button’s on tight,” and passed the +pole over to Westby.</p> + +<p>Westby made one or two experimental +lunges with it and remarked musingly, “When +I catch him square above the bread line with +this—!”</p> + +<p>“Come on, then!” said Collingwood. “Come +here, Ned!”</p> + +<p>Morrill swam ashore and pushed off in one +of the canoes with Collingwood—taking the +stern seat and the paddle. Collingwood knelt +in the bow, with his spear laid across the gun-wales +in front of him. In like manner Westby +and Carroll took to the water.</p> + +<p>“This is the best two bouts out of three,” +called Scarborough, as he circled round. +“Don’t you want to come aboard, Mr. Upton, +and help judge?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, thank you,” said Irving.</p> + +<p>So Scarborough called, “Wait a moment, +fellows,” and paddling ashore, took on his +passenger. Then he sped out to the middle of +the bay; the two other canoes were separated +by about fifty feet.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a><span class="pagenum" title="51"></span>“Charge!” cried Scarborough, and Morrill +and Carroll began paddling towards each other, +while in the bows Collingwood and Westby +rose to their feet and held their spears in +front of them. They advanced cautiously and +then swung apart, evading the collision—each +trying to tempt the other to stab and overreach.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you’re both scared!” jeered Baldersnaith +from the shore.</p> + +<p>The canoes swung about and made for each +other again; and this time passed within striking +distance. Westby’s aim missed, his sponge-tipped +lance slid past Collingwood’s shoulder, +and the next instant Collingwood’s sponge—well +weighted with water—smote Westby full +in the chest and hove him overboard. For one +moment Carroll struggled to keep the canoe +right side up, but in vain; it tipped and filled, +and with a shout he plunged in head foremost +after his comrade.</p> + +<p>They came up and began to push their +canoe ashore; the two other canoes drew alongside +and assisted, Scarborough and Morrill<a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a><span class="pagenum" title="52"></span> +paddling, while Irving and Collingwood laid +hold of the thwarts.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right; I’ll get you this time,” +spluttered Westby. “We’re going to use +strategy now.”</p> + +<p>They emptied the water out of the canoe +and proceeded again to the battleground. Then, +when Scarborough gave the word, Carroll +began paddling madly; he and Westby bore +down upon their antagonists at a most threatening +speed. Morrill swung to the right to get +out of their path; and then suddenly Carroll +swung in the opposite direction—with what +strategic purpose neither Irving nor Scarborough +had time to conjecture. For they were +loitering close on that side, not expecting any +such manœuvre; the sharp turn drove the bow +of Carroll’s canoe straight for the waist of +Scarborough’s, and Westby with an excited +laugh undertook to fend off with his pole, lost +his balance, and trying to recover it, upset +both canoes together.</p> + +<p>Irving felt himself going, heard Westby’s +laughing shout, “Look out, Mr. Upton!” and +then went under.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 431px;"><a name="Page_52f" id="Page_52f"></a><span class="pagenum" title="Facing 52"></span> +<img src="images/052.jpg" width="431" height="631" alt="[Illustration: THE CANOES SWUNG ABOUT AND MADE FOR EACH OTHER]" title="THE CANOES SWUNG ABOUT AND MADE FOR EACH OTHER" /> +<span>THE CANOES SWUNG ABOUT AND MADE FOR EACH OTHER</span> +</div> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a><span class="pagenum" title="53"></span>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>WESTBY’S AMUSEMENTS</h3> + + +<p>The water was warm, but Irving swallowed +a good deal of it and also was conscious +of the fact that he had on a perfectly good +suit of clothes. So he came to the surface, +choking and annoyed; and when he recovered +his faculties, he observed first of all Westby’s +grinning face.</p> + +<p>“You can swim all right, can’t you, Mr. +Upton?” said Westby. “I thought for a moment +we might have to dive for you.”</p> + +<p>Irving clutched at the stern of the capsized +canoe and said, rather curtly, “I’m not +dressed to enjoy swimming.”</p> + +<p>“I’m awfully sorry,” said Scarborough. +“But I never thought they were going to turn +that way; I don’t know what Carrie thought +he was doing—”</p> + +<p>“I’d have shown you some strategy if +<a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a><span class="pagenum" title="54"></span>you hadn’t blundered into us,” declared +Carroll.</p> + +<p>“Blundered into you! There was no need +for Wes to give us such a poke, anyhow.”</p> + +<p>Westby replied merely with an irritating +chuckle—irritating at least to Irving, who felt +that he should be showing more contrition.</p> + +<p>Collingwood and Morrill came alongside, +both laughing, jeering at Westby and offering +polite expressions of solicitude to the master. +They told him to lay hold of the tail of their +canoe, and then they towed him ashore as rapidly +as possible. When he drew himself up, +dripping, on the bank, Baldersnaith, Dennison, +and Smythe were all on the broad grin, and +from the water floated the sound of Westby’s +merriment.</p> + +<p>Irving stood for a moment, letting himself +drip, quite undecided as to what he should do. +He had never been ducked before, with all his +clothes on; the clammy, weighted sensation +was most unpleasant, the thought of his damaged +and perhaps ruined suit was galling, the +indignity of his appearance was particularly<a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a><span class="pagenum" title="55"></span> +hard to bear. He felt that Baldersnaith and +the others were trying to be as polite and +considerate as possible, and yet they could not +refrain from exhibiting their amusement, their +delight.</p> + +<p>Scarborough, who had swum ahead of the +others, waded ashore and looked him over. “I +tell you what you’d better do, Mr. Upton,” he +said. “You’d better take your clothes off, +wring them out, and spread them out to dry. +They’ll dry in this sun and wind. And while +they’re doing that, you can come in swimming +with us.”</p> + +<p>Irving hesitated a moment; instinct told him +that the advice was sensible, yet he shrank from +accepting it; he felt that for a master to do +what Scarborough suggested would be undignified, +and might somehow compromise his +position. “I think I’d better run home and +rub myself down and put on some dry things,” +he replied.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Scarborough, “just as you +say. Sorry I got you into this mess.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s all right,” said Irving.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a><span class="pagenum" title="56"></span>He walked away, with the water trickling +uncomfortably down him inside his clothes +and swashing juicily in his shoes. He liked +Scarborough for the way he had acted, but he +felt less kindly towards Westby. He was by no +means sure that Westby had not deliberately +soused him and then pretended it was an accident. +He remembered Westby’s mirthful laugh +just when the thing was happening; and certainly +if it had really been an accident Westby +had shown very little concern. He had been +indecently amused; he was so still; his clear +joyous laugh was ringing after Irving even +now, and Irving felt angrily that he was at +this moment a ridiculous figure. To be running +home drenched!—probably it would +have been better if he had done what Scarborough +had suggested, less undignified, more +manly really. But he couldn’t turn back +now.</p> + +<p>He was cold and his teeth had begun to +chatter, so he started to run. He hoped that +when he came out of the woods he might be +fortunate enough to elude observation on the<a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a><span class="pagenum" title="57"></span> +way to the Upper School, but in this he was +disappointed. As he jogged by the Study +building, with his clothes jouncing and slapping +heavily upon his shoulders, out came the +rector and met him face to face.</p> + +<p>“Upset canoeing?” asked the rector with a +smile.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Irving answered; he stood for a moment +awkwardly.</p> + +<p>“Well, it will happen sometimes,” said the +rector. “Don’t catch cold.” And he passed +on.</p> + +<p>There was some consolation for Irving in +this matter-of-fact view. In the rector’s eyes +apparently his dignity had not suffered by the +incident. But when a moment later he passed +a group of Fourth Formers and they turned +and stared at him, grinning, he felt that his +dignity had suffered very much. He felt that +within a short time his misfortune would be +the talk of the school.</p> + +<p>At supper it was as he expected it would +be. Westby set about airing the story for the +benefit of the table, appealing now and then to<a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a><span class="pagenum" title="58"></span> +Irving himself for confirmation of the passages +which were least gratifying to Irving’s vanity. +“You <em>did</em> look so woe-begone when you stood +up on shore, Mr. Upton,” was the genial statement +which Irving especially resented. To +have Westby tell the boys the first day how he +had called the new master a new kid and the +second day how he had ducked him was a little +too much; it seemed to Irving that Westby +was slyly amusing himself by undermining his +authority. But the boy’s manner was pleasantly +ingratiating always; Irving felt baffled. Carroll +did not help him much towards an interpretation; +Carroll sat by self-contained, +quietly intelligent, amused. Irving liked both +the boys, and yet as the days passed, he seemed +to grow more and more uneasy and anxious in +their society.</p> + +<p>In the classroom he was holding his own; +he was a good mathematical scholar, he prepared +the lessons thoroughly, and he found +it generally easy to keep order by assigning +problems to be worked out in class. The +weather continued good, so that during play<a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a><span class="pagenum" title="59"></span> +time the fellows were out of doors instead of +loafing round in dormitory. They all had their +own little affairs to organize; athletic clubs +and literary societies held their first meetings; +there was a process of general shaking down; +and in the interest and industry occasioned by +all this, there was not much opportunity or +disposition to make trouble.</p> + +<p>But the first Sunday was a bad day. In a +boys’ school bad weather is apt to be accompanied +by bad behavior; on this Sunday it +poured. The boys, having put on their best +clothes, were obliged, when they went out to +chapel, to wear rubbers and to carry umbrellas—an +imposition against which they rebelled. +After chapel, there was an hour before dinner, +and in that hour most of the Sixth Formers +sought their rooms—or sought one another’s +rooms; it seemed to Irving, who was trying to +read and who had a headache, that there was +a needless amount of rushing up and down the +corridors and of slamming of doors. By and +by the tumult became uproarious, shouts of +laughter and the sound of heavy bodies being<a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a><span class="pagenum" title="60"></span> +flung against walls reached his ears; he emerged +then and saw the confusion at the end of the +corridor. Allison was suspended two or three +feet above the floor, by a rope knotted under +his arms; it was the rope that was used for +raising trunks up to the loft above. In lowering +it from the loft some one had trespassed +on forbidden ground. Westby, Collingwood, +Dennison, Scarborough, and half a dozen +others were gathered, enjoying Allison’s ludicrous +struggles. His plight was not painful, +only absurd; and Irving himself could not at +first keep back a smile. But he came forward +and said,—</p> + +<p>“Oh, look here, fellows, whoever is responsible +for this will have to climb up and release +Allison.”</p> + +<p>Westby turned with his engaging smile.</p> + +<p>“Yes, but, Mr. Upton, who do you suppose +is responsible? I don’t see how we can fix the +responsibility, do you?”</p> + +<p>“I will undertake to fix it,” said Irving. +“Westby, suppose you climb that ladder and +let Allison down.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a><span class="pagenum" title="61"></span>“I don’t think you’re approaching this +matter in quite a judicial spirit, Mr. Upton,” +said Westby. “Of course no man wants to be +arbitrary; he wants to be just. It really seems +to me, Mr. Upton, that no action should be +taken until the matter has been more thoroughly +sifted.”</p> + +<p>The other boys, with the exception of Allison, +were chuckling at this glib persuasiveness. +Westby stood there, in a calmly respectful, +even deferential attitude, as if animated only +by a desire to serve the truth.</p> + +<p>“We will have no argument about it, +Westby,” said Irving. “Please climb the ladder +at once and release Allison.”</p> + +<p>“I beg of you, Mr. Upton,” said Westby +in a tone of distress, “don’t, please don’t, +confuse argument with impartial inquiry; +nothing is more distasteful to me than argument. +I merely ask for investigation; I court +it in your own interest as well as mine.”</p> + +<p>Irving grew rigid. His head was throbbing +painfully; the continued snickering all round +him and Westby’s increasing confidence and<a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a><span class="pagenum" title="62"></span> +fluency grated on his nerves. He drew out his +watch.</p> + +<p>“I will give you one minute in which to +climb that ladder,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton, you wish to be a just man,” +pleaded Westby. “Even though you have the +great weight of authority—and years”—Westby +choked a laugh—“behind you, don’t +do an unjust and arbitrary thing. Allison himself +wouldn’t have you—would you, Allison?”</p> + +<p>The victim grinned uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton,” urged Westby, “you +wouldn’t have me soil these hands?” He displayed +his laudably clean, pink fingers. “Of +course, if I go up there I shall get my hands +all dirty—and equally of course if I had been +up there, they would be all dirty now. Surely +you believe in the value of circumstantial +evidence; therefore, before we fix the responsibility, +let us search for the dirty pair of hands.”</p> + +<p>“Time is up,” said Irving, closing his watch.</p> + +<p>“But what is time when justice trembles in +the balance?” argued Westby. “When the<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a><span class="pagenum" title="63"></span> +innocent is in danger of being punished for +the guilty, when—”</p> + +<p>“Westby, please climb that ladder at once.”</p> + +<p>“So young and so inexorable!” murmured +Westby, setting his foot upon the ladder.</p> + +<p>Irving’s face was red; the tittering of the +audience was making him angry. He held his +eyes on Westby, who made a slow, grunting +progress up three rungs and then stopped.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, sir!” Westby’s +voice was ingratiating. “Mayn’t Allison sing +for us, sir?”</p> + +<p>Allison grinned again foolishly and sent a +sprawling foot out towards his persecutor; the +others laughed.</p> + +<p>“Keep on climbing,” said Irving.</p> + +<p>Westby resumed his toilsome way, and as he +moved he kept murmuring remarks to Allison, +to the others, to Irving himself, half audible, +rapid, in an aggrieved tone.</p> + +<p>“Don’t see why you want to be conspicuous +this way, Allison.—Won’t sing—amuse anybody—ornamental, +I suppose—good timekeeper +though—almost hear you tick. Mr.<a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a><span class="pagenum" title="64"></span> +Upton—setting watch by you now—awfully +severe kind of man—”</p> + +<p>So mumbling, with the responsive titter still +continuing below and Irving standing there +stern and red, Westby disappeared into the +loft. There was a moment’s silence, then a +sudden clicking of a ratchet wheel, and Allison +began to rise rapidly towards the ceiling.</p> + +<p>“A-ay!” cried Allison in amazement.</p> + +<p>The boys burst out in delighted laughter.</p> + +<p>“Westby! Westby! Stop that!” Irving’s +voice was shrill with anger.</p> + +<p>Allison became stationary once more, and +Westby displayed an innocent, surprised face +at the loft opening.</p> + +<p>“If there is any more nonsense in letting +Allison down, I shall really have to report +you.” Irving’s voice rose tremulously to a high +key; he was trying hard to control it.</p> + +<p>Westby gazed down with surprise. “Why, +I guess I must have turned the crank the +wrong way, don’t you suppose I did, Mr. +Upton?—Don’t worry, Allison, old man;<a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a><span class="pagenum" title="65"></span> +I’ll rescue you, never fear. I’ll try to lower +you gently, so that you won’t get hurt; you’ll +call out if you find you’re coming down too +fast, won’t you?”</p> + +<p>He withdrew his head, and presently the +ratchet wheel clicked and slowly, very slowly, +Allison began to descend. When his feet were +a couple of inches from the floor, the descent +stopped.</p> + +<p>“All right now?” called Westby from +above.</p> + +<p>“No!” bawled Allison.</p> + +<p>“Ve-ry gently then, ve-ry gently,” replied +Westby; and Allison, reaching for the floor +with his toes, had at last the satisfaction of +feeling it. He wriggled out of the noose and +smoothed out his rumpled coat.</p> + +<p>“Saved!” exclaimed Westby, peering down +from the opening, and then he added sorrowfully, +“Saved, and no word of gratitude to his +rescuer!”</p> + +<p>“Now, boys, don’t stand round here any +longer; we’ve had enough nonsense; go to +your rooms,” said Irving.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a><span class="pagenum" title="66"></span>“Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, sir!” +clamored Westby, and the boys lingered.</p> + +<p>Irving looked up in exasperation. “What +is it now?”</p> + +<p>“May I come down, please, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, sir.”</p> + +<p>Carefully Westby descended the ladder, +mumbling all the time sentences of which the +lingerers caught fragmentary scraps: “Horrible +experience that of Allison’s—dreadful +situation to have been in—so fortunate that +I was at hand—the man who dares—reckless +courage, ready resource—home again!” He +dropped to the floor, and raising his hand to +his forehead, saluted Irving.</p> + +<p>“Come, move on, all you fellows,” said +Irving; the others were still hanging about +and laughing; “move on, move on! Carroll, +you and Westby take that ladder down and +put it back where you got it.”</p> + +<p>He stayed to see that the order was carried +out; then he returned to his room. He felt +that though he had conquered in this instance,<a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a><span class="pagenum" title="67"></span> +he had adopted the wrong tone, and that he +must offer something else than peevishness +and irritation to ward off Westby’s humor; +already it gave indications of becoming too +audacious. Yet on the whole Irving was +pleased because he had at least asserted himself—and +had rather enjoyed doing it. And +an hour later it seemed to him that he had +lost all that he had gained.</p> + +<p>Roast beef was the unvarying dish at Sunday +dinner; a large and fragrant sirloin was +set before the head of each table to be carved. +Irving took up the carving knife and fork +with some misgivings. Hitherto he had had +nothing more difficult to deal with than steaks +or chops or croquettes or stews; and carving +was an art that he had never learned; confronted +by the necessity, he was amazed to +find that he had so little idea of how to proceed. +The first three slices came off readily +enough, though they were somewhat ragged, +and Irving was aware that Westby was surveying +his operations with a critical interest. +The knife seemed to grow more dull, the meat<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a><span class="pagenum" title="68"></span> +more wobbly, more tough, the bone got more +and more in the way; the maid who was passing +the vegetables was waiting, all the boys +except the three who had been helped first +were waiting, coldly critical, anxiously apprehensive; +silence at this table had begun to +reign.</p> + +<p>Irving felt himself blushing and muttered, +“This knife’s awfully dull,” as he sawed +away. At last he hacked off an unsightly slab +and passed it to Westby, whose turn it was +and who wrinkled his nose at it in disfavor.</p> + +<p>“Please have this knife sharpened,” Irving +said to the maid. She put down the potatoes +and the corn, and departed with the instrument +to the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Irving glanced at the other tables; everybody +seemed to have been served, everybody +was eating; Scarborough, who was in charge +of the next table, had entirely demolished his +roast.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry to keep you fellows waiting,” +Irving said, “but that’s the dullest knife I +ever handled.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a><span class="pagenum" title="69"></span>He addressed the remark to the totally unprovided +side of his table; he turned his head +just in time to catch Westby’s humorous mouth +and droll droop of an eyelid. The other boys +smiled, and Irving’s cheeks grew more hot.</p> + +<p>“You’ll excuse me, Mr. Upton, if I don’t +wait, won’t you?” said Westby. “Don’t get +impatient, fellows.”</p> + +<p>The maid returned with the carving knife; +Westby paused in his eating to observe. Irving +made another unsuccessful effort; the +meat quivered and shook and slid under his +attack, and the knife slipped and clashed +down upon the platter.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps if you would stand up to it, sir, +you would do better,” suggested Westby, in +an insidious voice. “Nobody else does, but if +it would be easier—”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, but the suggestion is unnecessary,” +Irving retorted. He added to the +other boys, while he struggled, “It’s the +meat, I guess, not the knife, after all—”</p> + +<p>“Why, I shouldn’t say it was the meat,” interposed +Westby. “The meat’s quite tender.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a><span class="pagenum" title="70"></span>Irving glanced at him in silent fury, clamped +his lips together, and went on sawing. He +finally was able to hand to Carroll a plate on +which reposed a mussy-looking heap of beef. +Carroll wrinkled his nose over it as Westby +had done.</p> + +<p>“If I might venture to suggest, sir,” said +Westby politely, “you could send it out and +have it carved in the kitchen.”</p> + +<p>Irving surrendered; he looked up and said +to the maid,—</p> + +<p>“Please take this out and have it carved +outside.”</p> + +<p>He felt that he could almost cry from the +humiliation, but instead he tried to assume +cheerfulness and dignity.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry,” he said, “to have to keep you +fellows waiting; we’ll try to arrange things so +that it won’t happen again.”</p> + +<p>The boys accepted the apology in gloomy +silence. At Scarborough’s table their plight +was exciting comment; Irving was aware of +the curious glances which had been occasioned +by the withdrawal of the roast. It seemed to<a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a><span class="pagenum" title="71"></span> +him that he was publicly disgraced; there was +a peculiar ignominy in sitting at the head of a +table and being unable to perform the simplest +duty of host. Worst of all, in the encounter +with Westby he had lost ground.</p> + +<p>The meat was brought on again, sliced in a +manner which could not conceal the unskillfulness +of the original attack.</p> + +<p>“Stone cold!” exclaimed Blake, the first +boy to test it.</p> + +<p>Irving’s temper flew up. “Don’t be childish,” +he said. “And don’t make any more +comments about this matter. It’s of no importance—and +cold roast beef is just as good +for you as hot.”</p> + +<p>“If not a great deal better,” added Westby +with an urbanity that set every one snickering.</p> + +<p>After dinner Irving was again on duty for +two hours in the dormitory, until the time for +afternoon chapel. During part of this period +the boys were expected to be in their rooms, +preparing the Bible lesson which had to be +recited after chapel to the rector. Irving made<a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a><span class="pagenum" title="72"></span> +the rounds and saw that each boy was in his +proper quarters, then went to his own room. +For an hour he enjoyed quiet. Then the bell +rang announcing that the study period was at +an end. Instantly there was a commotion in +the corridors—legitimate enough; but soon +it centred in the north wing and grew more +and more clamorous, more and more mirthful.</p> + +<p>With a sigh Irving went forth to quell it. +He determined that whatever happened he +would not this time lose his temper; he would +try to be persuasive and yet firm.</p> + +<p>The noise was in Allison’s room; the unfortunate +Allison was again being persecuted. +Loud whoops of laughter and the sound of +vigorous scuffling, of tumbling chairs and +pounding feet, came to Irving’s ears. The +door to Allison’s room was wide open; Irving +stood and looked upon a pile of bodies heaped +on the bed, with struggling arms and legs; +even in that moment the foot of the iron bedstead +collapsed, and the pile rolled off upon +the floor. There were Morrill and Carroll and<a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a><span class="pagenum" title="73"></span> +Westby and Dennison and at the bottom Allison—all +looking very much rumpled, very +red.</p> + +<p>“Oh, come, fellows!” said Irving in what he +intended to make an appealing voice. “Less +noise, less noise—or I shall really have to report +you—I shall really!”</p> + +<p>But he did not speak with any confidence; +his manner was hesitating, almost deprecating. +The boys grinned at him and then sauntered, +rather indifferently, out of the room.</p> + +<p>There was no more disorder that day. But +some hours later, when Irving came up to the +dormitory before supper, he heard laughter in +the west wing, where Collingwood and Westby +and Scarborough had their rooms. Then he +heard Westby’s voice, raised in an effeminate, +pleading tone: “Less noise, fellows, less noise—or +I shall have to report you—I shall +really!”</p> + +<p>There was more laughter at the mimicry, +and Irving heard Collingwood ask,</p> + +<p>“Where did you get that, Wes?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, from Kiddy—this afternoon.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a><span class="pagenum" title="74"></span>“Poor Kiddy! He seemed to be having an +awful time at noon over that roast beef.”</p> + +<p>“He’s such a dodo—he’s more fun than +a goat. I can put him up in the air whenever I +want to,” boasted Westby. “He’s the easiest +to get rattled I ever saw. I’m going to play +horse with him in class to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“How?” asked Collingwood; and Irving +basely pricked up his ears.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you’ll see.”</p> + +<p>Irving closed the door of his room quietly. +“We’ll see, will we?” he muttered, pacing +back and forth. “Yes, I guess some one will +see.”</p> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a><span class="pagenum" title="75"></span>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE BAITING OF A MASTER</h3> + + +<p>The room in which the Sixth Form assembled +for the lesson in Geometry was +on the top floor of the Study building; the +windows overlooked the pond behind the Gymnasium. +The teacher’s desk was on a platform +in the corner; a blackboard extended along +two walls; and there were steps beneath the +blackboard on which the students stood to +make their demonstrations.</p> + +<p>Irving arrived a minute before the hour and +found his class already assembled—a suspicious +circumstance. There was, too, he felt, +an air of subdued, joyous expectancy. He took +his seat and, adjusting his spectacles, peered +round the room; his eyesight was very bad, +and he had, moreover, like so many bookworms, +never trained his faculty of observation.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a><span class="pagenum" title="76"></span>He read the roll of the class; every boy +was there.</p> + +<p>“Scarborough, you may go to the blackboard +and demonstrate the Fifth Theorem; +Dennison, you the Sixth; Westby, you the +Eighth. The rest of you will solve at your +seats this problem.”</p> + +<p>He mounted to the blackboard himself and +wrote out the question. While he had his back +turned, he heard some whispering; he looked +over his shoulder. Westby was lingering in +his seat and had obviously been holding +communication with his neighbor.</p> + +<p>“Westby,”—Irving’s voice was sharp,—“were +you trying to get help at the last moment?”</p> + +<p>“I was not.” Westby’s answer was prompt.</p> + +<p>“Then don’t delay any longer, please; go +to the blackboard at once.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>Westby moved to the blackboard on the side +of the room—the one at right angles to that +on which Irving and Scarborough were at +work.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a><span class="pagenum" title="77"></span>Irving finished his writing, dusted the chalk +from his fingers, and returned to his seat. The +boys before him were now bent industriously +over their tablets; Scarborough, Westby, and +Dennison were drawing figures on the blackboard, +using the long pointers for rulers and +making beautiful circles by means of chalk attached +to pieces of string. A glance at Westby +showed that youth apparently intent upon +solving the problem assigned him and at work +upon it intelligently. Irving began to feel +serene; he proceeded to correct the algebra +exercises of the Fourth Form, which he had +received the hour before.</p> + +<p>A sudden titter from some one down in front, +hastily suppressed and transformed into a +cough, caused him to look up. Morrill, with +his mouth hidden behind his hand, was glancing +off toward Westby, and Irving followed +the direction of the glance.</p> + +<p>Westby had completed his geometrical figures +and was now engaged in labeling them +with letters. But instead of employing the +usual geometrical symbols A, B, C, and so on,<a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a><span class="pagenum" title="78"></span> +he was skipping about through the alphabet, +and Irving immediately perceived that he was +not choosing letters at random. Irving observed +that the initials of his own name, I, C, U, +formed, as it were, the corner-stone of the +geometrical edifice.</p> + +<p>At that moment Westby coughed—an unnatural +cough. And instantly a miracle happened; +every single wooden eraser—there +were half a dozen of them—leaped from its +place on the shelf beneath the blackboard and +tumbled clattering down the steps to the floor. +At the same instant Westby flung up both +arms, tottered on the topmost step, and succeeded +in regaining his poise with apparently +great difficulty.</p> + +<p>The class giggled.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton, sir! Mr. Upton, sir!” cried +Westby excitedly. “Did you feel the earthquake? +It was very noticeable on this side of +the room. Do you think it’s safe for us to stay +indoors, sir? There may be another shock!”</p> + +<p>“Westby,” Irving’s voice had a nervous +thrill that for the moment quieted the laugh<a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a><span class="pagenum" title="79"></span>ter, +“did you cause those erasers to be pulled +down?”</p> + +<p>“Did I cause them to be pulled down? I +don’t understand, sir. How could I, sir? Six +of them all at once!”</p> + +<p>“Bring me one of those erasers, please.”</p> + +<p>Westby stooped; there was a sound of snapping +string. Then he came forward and presented +the eraser.</p> + +<p>“You tied string to all these erasers, did +you?” Irving examined the fragment that +still clung to the object. “And then arranged +to have them pulled down?”</p> + +<p>“You see how short that string is, sir; nobody +could have reached it to pull it. Didn’t +you feel the earthquake, sir? Didn’t you see +how it almost threw me off my feet? Really, +I don’t believe it’s quite safe to stay here—”</p> + +<p>“You may be right; I shouldn’t wonder +at all if there was a second shock coming +to you soon,” said Irving, and the subdued +chuckle that went round the class told him he +had scored. “You may now demonstrate to +the class the Theorem assigned you.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a><span class="pagenum" title="80"></span>“Yes, sir.” Westby turned and took up the +pointer.</p> + +<p>“We have here,” he began, “the two triangles +I C U and J A Y—with the angle I C U +of the one equal to the angle J A Y of the +other.” The class tittered; Westby went on +glibly, bending the lath-like pointer between +his hands: “Let us now erect the angle K I D, +equal to the angle I C U; then the angle K I D +will also be equal to the angle J A Y—things +equal to the same thing are equal to each other.”</p> + +<p>Westby stopped to turn a surprised, questioning +look upon the snickering class.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that will do for that demonstration,” +said Irving. He rose from his seat; his lips +were trembling, and the laughter of the class +ceased. “You may leave the room—for your +insolence—at once!”</p> + +<p>He had meant to be dignified and calm, but +his anger had rushed to the surface, and his +words came in a voice that suggested he was +on the verge of tears.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir, but I don’t think +I quite understand,” said Westby suavely.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a><span class="pagenum" title="81"></span>“You understand well enough. I ask you +to leave the room.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid, Mr. Upton, that my little +pleasantries—usually considered harmless—do +not commend themselves to you. But you +hurt my feelings very much, sir, when you +apply such a harsh word as insolence to my +whimsical humor—”</p> + +<p>“I’ll hold no argument with you,” cried +Irving; in his excitement his voice rose thin +and thrill. “Leave the room at once.”</p> + +<p>Westby laid the pointer and the chalk on +the shelf, blew the dust from his fingers, and +walked towards his seat. Irving took a step +forward; his face was white.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean!—What do you +mean! I told you to leave the room.”</p> + +<p>Westby faced him with composure through +which showed a sneer; for the first time the +boy was displaying contempt; hitherto his attitude +had been jocose and cajoling.</p> + +<p>“I was going for my cap,” he said, and his +eyes flashed scornfully. Then, regardless of +the master’s look, he continued past the row<a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a><span class="pagenum" title="82"></span> +of his classmates, took up his cap, and retraced +his steps towards the door. Irving stood watching +him, with lips compressed in a stern line; +the line thinned even more when he saw +Westby bestow on his friends a droll, drooping +wink of the left eyelid.</p> + +<p>And then, while all the class sat in silence, +Westby did an audacious thing—a thing that +set every one except Irving off into a joyous +titter. He went out of the door doing the +sailor’s hornpipe,—right hand on stomach, +left hand on back, left hand on stomach, right +hand on back, and taking little skips as he +alternated the position. And so, skipping merrily, +he disappeared down the corridor.</p> + +<p>Irving returned to his platform. His hands +were trembling, and he felt weak. When he +spoke, he hardly knew his own voice. But he +struggled to control it, and said,—</p> + +<p>“Scarborough, please go to the board and +demonstrate your theorem.”</p> + +<p>There was no more disorder in class that +day; in fact, after Westby’s disappearance +the boys were exceptionally well behaved.<a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a><span class="pagenum" title="83"></span> +Slowly Irving recovered his composure, yet +the ordeal left him feeling as if he wanted +to shut himself up in his room and lie down. +He knew that he had lost command of his +temper; he regretted the manner in which he +had stormed at Westby; but he thought nevertheless +that the treatment had been effective +and therefore not entirely to be deplored. +The boys had thought him soft; he had shown +them that he was not; and he determined that +from this time forth he would bear down upon +them hard. If by showing them amiability +and kindliness he had failed to win their respect, +he would now compel it by ferocity. He +would henceforth show no quarter to any +malefactor.</p> + +<p>Walking up to his room, he fell in with +Barclay, who was also returning from a class.</p> + +<p>“What is the extreme penalty one can inflict +on a boy who misbehaves?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“For a single act?” asked Barclay.</p> + +<p>“For one that’s a climax of others—insolence, +disobedience, disorder—all heaped into +one.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a><span class="pagenum" title="84"></span>Irving spoke hotly, and Barclay glanced at +him with a sympathetic interest.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Barclay, “three sheets and +six marks off in decorum is about the limit. +After that happens to a boy two or three +times, the rector is likely to take a hand.—If +you don’t mind my saying it, though—in +my opinion it’s a mistake to start in by being +extreme.”</p> + +<p>“In ordinary cases, perhaps.” Irving’s tone +did not invite questioning, and he did not +confide to Barclay what extraordinary case he +had under consideration.</p> + +<p>When he reached his room, he wrote out on +a slip of paper, “Westby, insolence and disorder +in class, three sheets,” and laid the paper +on his desk. Then he undertook to correct +the exercises in geometry which had been the +fruit of the Sixth Form’s labors in the last +hour; but after going through five or six of +them, his mind wandered; it reverted uneasily +to the thought of his future relations with +those boys. He rose and paced about the +room, and hardened his heart. He would be<a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a><span class="pagenum" title="85"></span> +just as strict and stern and severe with them +all as he possibly could be. When he had +them well trained, he might attempt to win +their liking—if that seemed any longer worth +having! It did not seem so to him now; all +he wanted to know now was that he had +awakened in them respect and fear.</p> + +<p>Respect and fear—could he have inspired +those, by his excitable shriekings in the class +room, by his lack of self-control in dormitory +and at the dinner table, by his incompetence +when confronted with a roast of beef! Each +incident that recurred to him was of a kind +to bring with it the sting of mortification; +his cheeks tingled. He must at least learn +how to perform the simple duties expected +of a master; he could not afford to continue +giving exhibitions of ignorance and incompetence.</p> + +<p>Moved by this impulse, he descended to the +kitchen—precincts which he had never before +entered and in which his appearance created +at first some consternation. The cook, however, +was obliging; and when he had confessed<a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a><span class="pagenum" title="86"></span> +himself the incapable one who had sent out +the mutilated beef to be carved, she was most +reassuring in her speech, and taking the cold +remains of a similar cut from the ice chest, she +gave him an object lesson. She demonstrated +to him how he should begin the attack, how +he might foil the bone that existed only to +baffle, how slice after slice might fall beneath +his sure and rapid slashes.</p> + +<p>“I see,” said Irving, taking the knife and +fork from her and making some imaginary +passes. “The fork so—the knife so. And +you will always be sure to have a sharp carving +knife for me—very sharp?”</p> + +<p>The cook smiled and promised, and he extravagantly +left her contemplating a dollar +bill.</p> + +<p>Shortly after he had returned to his room +the bell on the Study building rang, announcing +the end of the morning session. There +was half an hour before luncheon; soon the +boys came tramping up the stairs and past +Irving’s closed door. Soon also a racketing +began in the corridors; Irving suspected an<a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a><span class="pagenum" title="87"></span> +intention to bait him still further; it was +probably Westby once again. He waited until +the noise became too great to be ignored—shouting +and battering and scuffling; then he +went forth to quell it.</p> + +<p>To his surprise Westby was not engaged in +the disturbance—was, in fact, not visible. +Collingwood, with his back turned, was in the +act of hurling a football to the farther end of +the corridor, where Scarborough and Morrill +and Dennison were gathered. The forward +pass was new in football this year, and although +the playing season had not yet begun, +Irving had already seen fellows practicing for +it, in front of the Study and behind the dormitory. +Collingwood, he knew, was captain of +the school football eleven, and naturally had +all the latest developments of the game, such +as the forward pass, very much on his mind. +Still that was no excuse for playing football +in the corridor.</p> + +<p>Morrill had caught the ball, and as Irving +approached, undertook to return it. But it +ricochetted against the wall and bounced down<a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a><span class="pagenum" title="88"></span> +at Collingwood’s feet. Collingwood seized it +and was poising it in his hand for another +throw when Irving spoke behind him—sharply, +for he was mindful of his resolve to +be severe:—</p> + +<p>“No more of that, Collingwood.”</p> + +<p>The boy turned eagerly and said,—</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Upton, I’m just getting on to +how to do it. Here, let me show you. You +take it this way, along the lacings—the trouble +is, my hand’s not quite long enough to +get a good grip—and then you take it like +this—”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Irving coldly; he had an idea +that Collingwood had adopted Westby’s method +and was engaged in chaffing him. “You +needn’t show me.”</p> + +<p>And he turned abruptly and went into his +room, closing the door behind him.</p> + +<p>Collingwood stood, looking round over his +shoulder after Irving and holding the ball out +in the arrested attitude of one about to throw. +On his face was an expression of utter amazement, +which rapidly gave place to indignation.<a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a><span class="pagenum" title="89"></span> +Collingwood had a temper, and sometimes—even +when he was not on the football field—it +flared up.</p> + +<p>“Of all the chumps!” he muttered; and he +turned, and poising the ball again, flung it +with all his strength at the master’s door. It +went straight to the mark, crashed against the +upper panel with a tremendous bang, and rebounded +to Collingwood’s feet.</p> + +<p>Irving opened the door and came out with a +leap.</p> + +<p>“Collingwood,” he cried, and his voice was +quivering as it had quivered that morning in +class, “did you throw that ball?”</p> + +<p>“I did,” said Collingwood.</p> + +<p>“Very well. I shall report you. I will have +no more of this insolence.”</p> + +<p>He swung round and shut himself again +in his room. The fellows at the other end +of the corridor had stood aghast; now they +came hurrying up. Collingwood was laughing.</p> + +<p>“Kiddy’s getting to be a regular lion,” he +said, and when Morrill and Dennison were for<a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a><span class="pagenum" title="90"></span> +expressing their indignation, he only laughed +the more.</p> + +<p>It was not very pleasant for Irving at luncheon. +Westby gave him an amused glance when +he came in—more amused than hostile—and +Irving preserved his dignity by returning an +unflinching look. Westby made no further +overtures for a while; the other boys chattered +among themselves, about football and tennis, +and Irving sat silent at the head of the table. +At last, however, Westby turned to him.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton,” said Westby deferentially, +“how would you explain this? There’s a dog, +and he must be doing one of two things; either +he’s running or he’s not running. If he’s not +doing the one, he is doing the other, isn’t +he?”</p> + +<p>“I suppose so,” said Irving.</p> + +<p>“Well, he’s not running. Therefore—he +is running. How do you explain that, Mr. +Upton?”</p> + +<p>Irving smiled feebly; the other boys were +thinking it over with puzzled faces.</p> + +<p>“That’s an old quibble,” said Irving. “The +<a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a><span class="pagenum" title="91"></span>alternative for running is not running. Therefore +when he’s not running—he’s <em>not</em> running.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see that that explains it,” answered +Westby. “That’s just making a statement—but +it isn’t logic.”</p> + +<p>“He’s not running is the negative of he’s +running; he’s not not-running is the negative +of he’s not running—”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said Westby, “how fast must a dog +travel that is not not-running to catch a dog that +is not exactly running but only perhaps?”</p> + +<p>The boys laughed; Irving retorted, “That’s +a problem that you might work out on the +blackboard sometime.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon Westby became silent, and Irving +more than half repented of his speech; he +knew that in its reference it had been ill-natured.</p> + +<p>He noticed later in the day when he went +up to the dormitory that the boys tiptoed about +the corridors and conversed in whispers; there +was an extravagant air of quiet. When they +went down to supper, they tiptoed past Irving’s<a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a><span class="pagenum" title="92"></span> +room in single file, saying in unison, “Sh! +Sh! Sh!” They all joined in this procession—from +Collingwood to Allison. Irving felt that +he had taken Allison’s place as the laughing-stock, +the butt of the dormitory.</p> + +<p>In the evening they came to bid him good-night—not +straggling up as they usually did, +but in a delegation, expectant and amused. +Westby and Collingwood were in the van when +Irving opened his door in response to the +knock.</p> + +<p>“We didn’t know whether you’d shake +hands with two such reprobates or not,” said +Westby. “We thought it wasn’t quite safe to +come up alone—so we’ve brought a bodyguard.”</p> + +<p>Irving did not smile, though, all the boys +were grinning. He shook hands formally with +Collingwood, then with Westby, then with the +others, saying good-night to each; as they left +him, they tiptoed to their rooms. He thought +grimly that, whatever might be the sentiments +entertained towards him, he would not long be +living in an atmosphere of ridicule.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a><span class="pagenum" title="93"></span>Irving had charge of the “big study,” as it +was called, during the hour immediately after +morning chapel. The boys filed in from chapel +and seated themselves at their desks; the members +of the Sixth Form, who were privileged +to study in their rooms and therefore had no +desks in the schoolroom, occupied the stalls +along the wall under the big clock. Last of all +the rector entered and, mounting the platform, +read the “reports” for the day—that is, the +names of those who had transgressed and the +penalties imposed. After the reading, the Sixth +Form went upstairs to their Latin class with +Mr. Barclay, and the day’s work began.</p> + +<p>On the morning following his encounters +with Westby and with Collingwood, Irving as +usual took charge of the Study. The boys assembled; +Irving rang the bell, reducing them to +quiet; Dr. Davenport came in, mounted the +platform, and took up the report book—in +which Irving had just finished transcribing +his entries.</p> + +<p>Dr. Davenport began reading in his clear, +emphatic voice, “Out of bounds, Mason, Ster<a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a><span class="pagenum" title="94"></span>rett, +Coyle, one sheet; late to study, Hart, +McQuiston, Durfee, Stratton, Kane, half a +sheet; tardy to breakfast—” and so on. None +of the offenses were very serious; and the +rector read them out rapidly. But at last he +paused a moment; and then, looking up from +the book, he said, with grave distinctness, +“Disorderly in class and insolent, Westby, +three sheets; disorderly in dormitory and insolent, +Collingwood, three sheets.”</p> + +<p>He closed the book; a stir, a thrill of interest, +ran round the room. For a Sixth Former +to be charged with such offenses and condemned +to such punishment was rare: for +Collingwood, who was in a sense the leader of +the school, to be so charged and punished was +unprecedented.</p> + +<p>Collingwood, sitting directly under the +clock, and facing so many curious questioning +eyes, turned red; Westby, standing by the +door, looked at him and smiled. At the same +time, Dr. Davenport, closing the report-book, +leaned towards Irving and said quietly in his +ear,—</p> + +<p><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a><span class="pagenum" title="95"></span>“Mr. Upton, I should like to see you about +those last two reports—immediately after +this study hour.”</p> + +<p>Irving reddened; the rector’s manner was +not approving.</p> + +<p>Dr. Davenport descended from the platform +and walked slowly down the aisle. As he approached, +he looked straight at Westby; and +Westby returned the look steadily—as if he +was ashamed of nothing.</p> + +<p>The rector passed through the doorway; +the Sixth Form followed; the day’s work began.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a><span class="pagenum" title="96"></span>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>MASTER TURNS PUPIL</h3> + + +<p>The rector received Irving with a smile. +“Well,” he said, “I think you must +be a believer in the maxim, ‘Hit hard and hit +first.’ Would you mind telling me what was +the trouble?”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t so much any one thing,” replied +Irving. “It was a culmination of little +things.—Oh, I suppose I started in wrong +with the fellows somehow.”</p> + +<p>He was silent for a moment, in dejection.</p> + +<p>“A good many do that,” said Dr. Davenport. +“There would be small progress in the +world if there never was any rectifying of +false starts.”</p> + +<p>“I can hardly help it if I look young,” said +Irving. “That’s one of my troubles. I suppose +I ought to avoid acting young. I haven’t, +altogether. They call me Kiddy.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a><span class="pagenum" title="97"></span>“We get hardened to nicknames,” observed +the rector. “But often they’re affectionate. +At least I like to cherish that delusion with +regard to mine; my legs have the same curve +as Napoleon’s, and I have been known as ‘Old +Hoopo’ for years.”</p> + +<p>“But they don’t call you that to your face.”</p> + +<p>“No, not exactly. Have they been calling +you ‘Kiddy’ to your face?”</p> + +<p>“It amounts to that.” Irving narrated the +remarks that he had overheard in dormitory, +and then described Westby’s performance at +the blackboard.</p> + +<p>“That certainly deserved rebuke,” agreed +the rector. “Though I think Westby was attempting +to be facetious rather than insolent; +I have never seen anything to indicate that +he was a malicious boy.—What was it that +Louis Collingwood did?”</p> + +<p>Irving recited the offense.</p> + +<p>“Weren’t you a little hasty in assuming +that he was trying to tease you?” asked the +rector. “When he persisted in wanting to +show you how the forward pass is made? I<a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a><span class="pagenum" title="98"></span> +think it’s quite likely he was sincere; he’s +so enthusiastic over football that it doesn’t +occur to him that others may not share his interest. +I don’t think Collingwood was trying +to be ‘fresh.’ Of course, he shouldn’t have +lost his temper and banged the ball at your +door—but I think that hardly showed malice.”</p> + +<p>“It seemed to me it was insolent—and disorderly. +I felt the fellows all thought they +could do anything with me and I would be +afraid to report them. And so I thought I’d +show them I wasn’t afraid.”</p> + +<p>“At the same time, three sheets is the +heaviest punishment, short of actual suspension, +that we inflict. It seems hardly a penalty +for heedless or misguided jocularity.”</p> + +<p>“I think perhaps I was hard on Collingwood,” +admitted Irving.</p> + +<p>“If he comes to you about it—maybe +you’ll feel disposed to modify the punishment. +And possibly the same with Westby.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t feel sure that I’ve been too hard +on Westby.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a><span class="pagenum" title="99"></span>The rector smiled; he was not displeased +at this trace of stubbornness.</p> + +<p>“Well, I won’t advise you any further about +that. Use your own judgment. It takes time +for a young man to get his bearings in a place +like this.—If you don’t mind my saying it,” +added the rector mildly, “couldn’t you be a +little more objective in your interests?”</p> + +<p>“You mean,” said Irving, “less—less self-centred?”</p> + +<p>“That’s it.” The rector smiled.</p> + +<p>“I’ll try,” said Irving humbly.</p> + +<p>“All right; good luck.” The rector shook +hands with him and turned to his desk.</p> + +<p>There was no disturbance in the Mathematics +class that day. Irving hoped that after +the hour Westby and Collingwood might approach +him to discuss the justice of the reports +which he had given them, and so offer him +an opportunity of lightening the punishment. +But in this he was disappointed. Nor did they +come to him in the noon recess—the usual +time for boys who felt themselves wronged to +seek out the masters who had wronged them.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a><span class="pagenum" title="100"></span>Irving debated with himself the advisability +of going to the two boys and voluntarily +remitting part of their task. But he decided +against this; to make the advances and the +concession both would be to concede too much.</p> + +<p>At luncheon there was an unpleasant moment. +No sooner had the boys sat down than +Blake, a Fifth Former, called across the table +to Westby,—</p> + +<p>“Say, Westby, who was it that gave you +three sheets?”</p> + +<p>Westby scowled and replied,—</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton.”</p> + +<p>“What for?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ask him.”</p> + +<p>Irving reddened, aware of the glancing, +curious gaze of every boy at the table. There +was an interesting silence, relieved at last by +the appearance of the boy with the mail. +Among the letters, Irving found one from +Lawrence; he opened it with a sense that it +afforded him a momentary refuge. The unintended +irony of the first words drew a bitter +smile to his lips.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a><span class="pagenum" title="101"></span>“You are certainly a star teacher,” Lawrence +wrote, “and I know now what a success +you must be making with your new job. +I have just learned that I passed all the examinations—which +is more than you or I ever +dreamed I could do—so I am now a freshman +at Harvard without conditions. And it’s all +due to you; I don’t believe there’s another +man on earth that could have got me through +with such a record and in so short a time.”</p> + +<p>Irving forgot the irony, forgot Westby and +Collingwood and the amused, whispering boys. +Happiness had suddenly flashed down and +caught him up and borne him away to his +brother. Lawrence’s whole letter was so gay, +so exultant, so grateful that Irving, when he +finished it, turned back again to the first page. +When at last he raised his eyes from it, they +dwelt unseeingly upon the boys before him; they +held his brother’s image, his brother’s smile. +And from the vision he knew that there at +least he had justified himself, whatever might +be his failure now; and if he had succeeded +once, he could succeed again.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a><span class="pagenum" title="102"></span>Irving became aware that Westby was treating +him with cheerful indifference—ignoring +him. He did not care; the letter had put into +him new courage. And pretty soon there woke +in him along with this courage a gentler spirit; +it was all very well for Westby, a boy and +therefore under discipline, to exhibit a stiff +and haughty pride; but it was hardly admirable +that a master should maintain that attitude. +The punishment to which he had sentenced +Westby and Collingwood was, it appeared, +too harsh; if they were so proud that +they would not appeal to him to modify it, +he would make a sacrifice in the interest of +justice.</p> + +<p>So after luncheon he followed Westby and +spoke to him outside of the dining-room.</p> + +<p>“Westby,” he said, “do you think that +considering the circumstances three sheets is +excessive?”</p> + +<p>Westby looked surprised; then he shrugged +his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“I’m not asking any favors,” he replied.</p> + +<p>Irving laughed. “No,” he said, “I see<a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a><span class="pagenum" title="103"></span> +you’re not. But I’m afraid I must deny you +the pleasure of martyrdom. I’ll ask you to +take a note to Mr. Elwood—he’s in charge +of the Study, isn’t he? I’ll tell him that +you’re to write a sheet and a half instead of +three sheets.”</p> + +<p>He drew a note-book from his pocket and +tore out one of the pages. Westby looked at +him curiously—as if in an effort to determine +just how poor-spirited this sudden surrender +was. Irving spoke again before writing.</p> + +<p>“By the way, will you please ask Collingwood +to come here?”</p> + +<p>When Westby returned with Collingwood, +Irving had the note written and handed it to +him; there was no excuse for Westby to linger. +He went over and waited by the door, +while Irving said,—</p> + +<p>“Collingwood, why didn’t you come up +and ask me to reduce your report? Didn’t +you think it was unfair?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Collingwood answered promptly.</p> + +<p>“Well, then—why didn’t you come to me +and say so?”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a><span class="pagenum" title="104"></span>Collingwood thought a moment.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he said, “you had such fun in +soaking me that I wasn’t going to give you +the additional satisfaction of seeing me cry +baby.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll learn something about boys sometime—if +you fellows will keep on educating me,” +observed Irving. “I think your performance +of yesterday deserves about a sheet; we’ll +make it that.”</p> + +<p>He scribbled a note and handed it to the +boy.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Mr. Upton.” Collingwood +tucked the note into his pocket with a friendly +smile, and then joined Westby.</p> + +<p>“Knock you down to half a sheet?” asked +Westby, as they departed in the direction of +the Study, where they were to perform their +tasks.</p> + +<p>“No; a sheet.”</p> + +<p>“Mine’s one and a half now. What got +into him?”</p> + +<p>“He’s not without sense,” said Collingwood.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a><span class="pagenum" title="105"></span>“Ho!” Westby was derisive. “He’s soft. +He got scared. He knew he’d gone too far—and +he was afraid to stand by his guns.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think so. I think he’s just trying +to do the right thing.”</p> + +<p>It was unfortunate for Irving that later in +the afternoon Carter of the Fifth Form—who +played in the banjo club with Westby—was +passing the Study building just as Westby +was coming out from his confinement.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Wes!” said Carter. “Thought +you were in for three sheets; how do you +happen to be at large so soon?”</p> + +<p>“Kiddy made it one and a half—without +my asking him,” said Westby.</p> + +<p>“And Collingwood the same?”</p> + +<p>“He made his only a sheet.”</p> + +<p>“That’s it,” said Carter shrewdly. “I was +waiting to see the rector this morning; the +door was open, and he had Kiddy in there +with him. I guess he was lecturing him on +those reports; I guess he told him he’d have +to take off a couple of sheets.”</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t wonder,” said Westby. “I<a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a><span class="pagenum" title="106"></span> +don’t believe old Hoopo would have interfered +much on my account,—but I guess he couldn’t +stand for Lou Collingwood getting three +sheets. And Kiddy, the fox, tried to make us +think he was being magnanimous!”</p> + +<p>Westby chuckled over his humorous discovery, +and as soon as possible imparted it to +Collingwood.</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, what if the rector did make him +do it?” said Collingwood. “The way he did +it shows he’s all right—”</p> + +<p>“Trying to get the credit with us for being +just and generous!” observed Westby. “Oh, +I don’t mind; of course it’s only Kiddy.”</p> + +<p>And it was Westby’s view of the matter +which most of the boys heard and credited. +So the improvement in the general attitude +for which Irving had hoped was hardly to be +noticed. He had some gratification the next +Sunday when the roast beef was brought on +and he carved it with creditable ease and dispatch; +the astonishment of the whole table, +and especially of Westby and Carroll, was +almost as good as applause. He could not re<a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a><span class="pagenum" title="107"></span>sist +saying, in a casual way, “The knife seems +to be sharp this Sunday.” And he felt that +for once Westby was nonplussed.</p> + +<p>But the days passed, and Irving felt that +he was not getting any nearer to the boys. At +his table the talk went on before him, mainly +about athletics, about college life, about Europe +and automobiles,—all topics from which +he seemed strangely remote. It needed only +the talk of these experienced youths to make +him realize that he had gone through college +without ever touching “college life,”—its +sports, its social diversions, its adventures. It +had been for him a life in a library, in classrooms, +in his own one shabby little room,—a +cloistered life; in the hard work of it and the +successful winning of his way he had been +generally contented and happy. But he could +not talk to these boys about “college life” as +it appeared to them; and they very soon, perhaps +by common consent, eliminated him from +the conversation. Nor was he able to cope with +Westby in the swift, glancing monologues +which flowed on and on sometimes, to the vast<a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a><span class="pagenum" title="108"></span> +amusement of the audience. Often to Irving +these seemed not very funny, and he did not +know which was the more trying—to sit grave +and unconcerned in the midst of so much mirth +or to keep his mouth stretched in an insincere, +wooden smile. Whichever he did, he felt that +Westby always was taking notes, to ridicule +him afterwards to the other boys.</p> + +<p>One habit which Westby had was that of +bringing a newspaper to supper and taking the +table with him in an excursion over headlines +and advertising columns. His mumbling manner, +his expertness in bringing out distinctly a +ridiculous or incongruous sentence, and his +skill in selecting such sentences at a glance +always drew attention and applause; he had +the comedian’s technique.</p> + +<p>The boys at the neighboring tables, hearing +so much laughter and seeing that Westby was +provoking it, would stop eating and twist +round and tilt back their chairs and strain +their ears eagerly for some fragment of the +fun. At last at the head table Mr. Randolph +took cognizance of this daily boisterousness,<a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a><span class="pagenum" title="109"></span> +spoke to Irving about it, and asked him to +curb it. Irving thereupon suggested to Westby +that he refrain from reading his newspaper at +table.</p> + +<p>“But all the fellows depend on me to keep +them <em>au courant</em>, as it were.” Westby was +fond of dropping into French in his arguments +with Irving.</p> + +<p>“You will have to choose some other time +for it,” Irving answered. “I understand that +there is a rule against reading newspapers at +table, and I think it must be observed.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, very well,—<em>de bon cœur</em>,” said +Westby.</p> + +<p>The next day at supper he appeared without +his newspaper. But in the course of the +meal he drew from his pocket some newspaper +clippings which he had pasted together and +which he began to read in his usual manner. +Soon the boys of the table were laughing, +soon the boys of the adjacent tables were +twisting round and trying to share in the +amusement. Westby read in his rapid consecutive +way,—</p> + +<p><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a><span class="pagenum" title="110"></span>“‘Does no good unless taken as directed—pain +in the back, loins, or region of the kidneys—danger +signal nature hangs out—um—um—um. +Mother attacks son with razor, taking +tip of left ear. Catcher Dan McQuilligan signs +with the Red Sox—The Woman Beautiful—Bright +Eyes: Every woman is entitled to a +clear, brilliant complexion—um—if she is +not so blessed, it is usually her own fault—um—Candidate +for pulchritude: reliable beauty +shop—do not clip the eyelashes—um.—Domestic +science column—Baked quail: pick, +draw, and wipe the bird outside and inside; +use a wet cloth.—No, Hortense, it is not necessary +to offer a young man refreshments +during an evening call.’”</p> + +<p>Westby was going on and on; he had a +hilarious audience now of three tables. From +the platform at the end of the dining-room +Mr. Randolph looked down and shook his +head—shook it emphatically; and Irving, +seeing it, understood the signal.</p> + +<p>“Westby,” said Irving. “Westby!” He +had to raise his voice.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a><span class="pagenum" title="111"></span>“Yes, sir?” Westby looked up innocently.</p> + +<p>“I will have to ask you to discontinue your +reading.”</p> + +<p>“But this is not a newspaper.”</p> + +<p>“It’s part of one.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, but the rule is against bringing +newspapers to table—not against bringing +newspaper clippings to table.”</p> + +<p>“The rule’s been changed,” said Irving. +“It now includes clippings.”</p> + +<p>“You see how it is, fellows.” Westby turned +to the others. “Persecuted—always persecuted. +If I’m within the rules—they change +the rules to soak me. Well,”—he folded up +his clippings and put them in his pocket,—“the +class in current topics is dismissed. But +instead Mr. Upton has very kindly consented +to entertain us this evening—some of his inimitable +chit-chat—”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t always try to be facetious, +Westby,” said Irving.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir,” replied Westby +urbanely. “If I have wounded your sensibili<a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a><span class="pagenum" title="112"></span>ties—I +would not do that—never—<em>jamais—pas +du tout</em>.”</p> + +<p>Irving said nothing; it seemed to him that +Westby always had the last word; it seemed +to him as if Westby was always skillfully tripping +him up, executing a derisive flourish +over his prostrate form, and then prancing +away to the cheers of the populace.</p> + +<p>But there were no more violent encounters, +such as had taken place in the class-room; +Westby never quite crossed the line again; +and Irving controlled his temper on threatening +occasions. These occurred in dormitory +less often; the fine weather and the fall sports—football +and tennis and track athletics—kept +the boys out-doors. On rainy afternoons +there was apt to be some noise and disorder—usually +there was what was termed an “Allison +hunt,” which took various forms, but which, +whether resulting in the dismemberment of +the boy’s room or the pursuit and battery of +him with pillows along the corridors, invariably +required Irving’s interference to quell it. This +task of interference, though it was one that he<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a><span class="pagenum" title="113"></span> +came to perform more and more capably, never +grew less distasteful or less humiliating; he +saw always the row of faces wearing what he +construed as an impudent grin. What seemed +to him curious was the fact that Allison after a +fashion enjoyed—at least did not resent—the +outrages of which he was the subject; after +them he would be found sitting amicably with +his tormentors, drinking their chocolate and +eating their crackers and jam. This was so +different from his own attitude after he had +been teased that Irving could not understand +it. After studying the case, he concluded that +the “Allison hunts” were not prompted by +any hatred of the subject, but by the fact +merely that he was big, clumsy, good-natured, +slow-witted—easy to make game of—and +especially by the fact that when aroused he +showed a certain joyous rage in his own defense. +But Irving saw no way of learning a +lesson from Allison.</p> + +<p>As the days went on, the sense of his isolation +in the School became more oppressive. +He had thought that if only the fellows would<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a><span class="pagenum" title="114"></span> +let him alone, he would be contented; he +found that was not so. They let him alone now +entirely; he envied those masters who were +popular—whom boys liked to visit on Sunday +evenings, who were consulted about contributions +to the <em>Mirror</em>, the school paper, who +were invited to meetings of the Stylus, the literary +society, who coached the football elevens +or went into the Gymnasium and did “stunts” +with the boys on the flying rings.</p> + +<p>One day when he was walking down to the +athletic field with Mr. Barclay, he said something +that hinted his wistful and unhappy +state of mind. Barclay had suspected it and +had been waiting for such an opportunity.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you make some interest for +yourself which would put you on a footing +with the boys—outside of the class-room and +the dormitory?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“I wish I could. But how?”</p> + +<p>“You ought to be able to work up an interest +of some sort,” said Barclay vaguely.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know anything about athletics; +I’m not musical, I don’t seem to be able to be<a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a><span class="pagenum" title="115"></span> +entertaining and talk to the boys. I guess I’m +just a grind. I shall never be of much use as +a teacher; it’s bad enough to feel that you’re +not up to your job. It’s worse when it makes +you feel that you’re even less up to the job +that you hoped to prepare for.”</p> + +<p>“How’s that?”</p> + +<p>“I meant to study law; I’d like to be a +lawyer. But what’s the use? If I can’t learn +to handle boys, how can I ever hope to handle +men?—and that’s what a lawyer has to do, +I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“Look here,” said Barclay. “You’re still +young; if you’ve learned what’s the matter +with you—and you seem to have—you’ve +learned more than most fellows of your age. +It’s less than a month that you’ve been here, +and you’ve never had any experience before +in dealing with boys. Why should you expect +to know it all at once?”</p> + +<p>“I suppose there’s something in that. But +I feel that I haven’t it in me ever to get on +with them.”</p> + +<p>“You’re doing better now than you did at<a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a><span class="pagenum" title="116"></span> +first; they don’t look on you entirely as a +joke now, do they?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not.—Oh,” Irving broke out, +“I know what the trouble is—I want to be +liked—and I suppose I’m not the likeable +kind.”</p> + +<p>Barclay did not at once dispute this statement, +and Irving was beginning to feel hurt.</p> + +<p>“The point is,” said Barclay at last, “that +to be liked by boys you’ve got to like them. +If you hold off from them and distrust them +and try to wrap yourself up in a cloak of dignity +or mystery, they won’t like you because +they won’t know you. If you show an interest +in them and their interests, you can be as +stern with them as justice demands, and they +won’t lay it up against you. But if you don’t +show an interest—why, you can’t expect them +to have an interest in you.”</p> + +<p>They turned a bend in the road; the athletic +field lay spread out before them. In different +parts of it half a dozen football elevens were +engaged in practice; on the tennis courts near +the athletic house boys in white trousers and<a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a><span class="pagenum" title="117"></span> +sweaters were playing; on the track encircling +the football field other boys more lightly clad +were sprinting or jogging round in practice +for long-distance runs; a few sauntered about +as spectators, with hands in their overcoat +pockets.</p> + +<p>“There,” said Barclay, indicating a group +of these idle observers, “you can at least do +that.”</p> + +<p>“But what’s the use?”</p> + +<p>“Make yourself a critic; pick out eight or +ten fellows to watch especially. In football or +tennis or running. It doesn’t much matter. +If they find you’re taking an intelligent interest +in what they’re doing, they’ll be pleased. +Westby, for instance, is running; he’s entered +for the hundred yards in the fall games,—likely +to win it, too. Westby’s your greatest +trial, isn’t he? Then why don’t you make +a point of watching him?—Not too obviously, +of course. Come round with me; I’m coaching +some of the runners for the next half-hour, +and then Collingwood wants me to give his +ends a little instruction.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a><span class="pagenum" title="118"></span>“Dear me! If I’d only been an athlete instead +of a student in college!” sighed Irving +whimsically.</p> + +<p>“You don’t need to be much of an athlete +to coach; I never was so very much,” confided +Barclay. “But there are things you can learn +by looking on.” They had reached the edge +of the track; Barclay clapped his hands. “No, +no, Roberts!” The boy who was practising +the start for a sprint looked up. “You mustn’t +reel all over the track that way when you +start; you’d make a foul. Keep your elbows +in, and run straight.”</p> + +<p>Irving followed Barclay round and tried to +grasp the significance of his comments. Dennison +came by at a trot.</p> + +<p>“Longer stride, Dennison! Your running’s +choppy! Lengthen out, lengthen out! That’s +better.—I have it!”</p> + +<p>Barclay turned suddenly to Irving.</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“The thing for you to do. We’ll make you +an official at the track games next week. That +will give you a standing at once—show every<a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a><span class="pagenum" title="119"></span>body +that you are really a keen follower of +sport—or want to be.”</p> + +<p>“But what can I do? I suppose an official +has to do something.”</p> + +<p>“You can be starter. That will put you +right in touch with the fellows that are entered.”</p> + +<p>“Would I have a revolver? I’ve never fired +a gun off in my life.”</p> + +<p>“Then it’s time you did. Of course you’ll +have a revolver. And you’ll be the noisiest, +most important man on the field. That’s what +you need to make yourself; wake the fellows +up to what you really are!—Now I must be +off to my football men; you’d better hang +round here and pick up what you can about +running. And remember—you’re to act as +starter.”</p> + +<p>“If you’ll see me through.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll see you through.”</p> + +<p>Barclay waved his hand and swung off across +the field.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a><span class="pagenum" title="120"></span>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>THE PENALTY FOR A FOUL</h3> + + +<p>How it was managed Irving did not know, +but on the morning of the day when +the fall handicap track games were held Scarborough +lingered after the Sixth Form Geometry +class. Scarborough was president of the +Athletic Association.</p> + +<p>“We want somebody to act as starter for +the races this afternoon, Mr. Upton,” said +Scarborough. “I wondered if you would help +us out.”</p> + +<p>“I should be delighted,” said Irving. “I’ve +not had much experience—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s easy enough; Mr. Barclay, I guess, +can tell you all that has to be done. Thank +you very much.”</p> + +<p>It was quite as if Irving was the one who +was conferring the favor; he liked Scarborough +for the way in which the boy had made the<a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a><span class="pagenum" title="121"></span> +suggestion. He always had liked him, for +Scarborough had never given any trouble; +he seemed more mature than most of the boys, +more mature even than Louis Collingwood. +He was not so popular, because he maintained +a certain dignity and reserve; even Westby +seemed to stand somewhat in awe of Scarborough. +He was, as Irving understood, the +best oarsman in the school, captain of the +school crew, besides being the crack shot-putter +and hammer-thrower; if he and Collingwood +had together chosen to throw their influence +against a new master, life would indeed have +been hard. But Scarborough’s attitude had +been one of entire indifference; he would +stand by and smile sometimes when Westby +was engaged in chaffing Irving, and then, as +if tired of it, he would turn his back and walk +away.</p> + +<p>Irving visited Barclay at his house during +the noon recess, borrowed his revolver, and +received the last simple instructions.</p> + +<p>“Make sure always that they’re all properly +‘set’ before you fire. If there’s any fouling<a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a><span class="pagenum" title="122"></span> +at the start, you can call them back and penalize +the fellow that fouled—a yard to five +yards, according to your discretion. But +there’s not likely to be any fouling; in most +of the events the fellows are pretty well separated +by their handicaps.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be careful,” said Irving. He inspected +the revolver. “It’s all loaded?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—and there are some blank cartridges. +Now, you’re all equipped. If any questions +come up—I’ll be down at the field; I’m to +be one of the judges and you can call on +me.”</p> + +<p>At luncheon Irving entered into the talk +about the sports to come, without giving any +intimation as to the part which he was to +play.</p> + +<p>“They’ve given Heath only thirty yards +over Lou Collingwood,” complained Westby.</p> + +<p>“I thought Lou wasn’t going to run, because +of football; he hasn’t been practising,” +said Carroll.</p> + +<p>“I know, but the Pythians have got hold +of him, and Dennison’s persuaded him it’s<a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a><span class="pagenum" title="123"></span> +his duty to run. And I guess he’s good +enough without practice to win from scratch—giving +that handicap!”</p> + +<p>“Is Dennison the captain of the Pythian +track team?” asked Irving.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And who’s captain of yours—the Corinthians?”</p> + +<p>“Ned Morrill.”</p> + +<p>“Morrill’s going awfully fast in the quarter +now,” said Blake. “I timed him yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“They’ve handicapped him pretty hard. +And he’s apt to be just a shade late in starting—just +as Dave Pratt is apt to be just a +shade previous,” said Westby. “It ought to +be a close race between those two.”</p> + +<p>“How much does Pratt get over Morrill?”</p> + +<p>“Five yards. And if he steals another yard +on the start—”</p> + +<p>“Dave wouldn’t steal it,” exclaimed Blake +indignantly. “You Corinthians would accuse +a man of anything!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t mean that he’d do it intentionally,” +replied Westby. “But he’s so over<a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a><span class="pagenum" title="124"></span>anxious +and eager always—and he’s apt to +get away without realizing—without the +starter realizing.—I wonder who’s going to +be starter, by the way?”</p> + +<p>Nobody knew; Irving did not enlighten +them.</p> + +<p>Westby bethought him to ask the same +question of Scarborough half an hour later, +when they were dressing in the athletic house.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton has consented to serve,” said +Scarborough gravely.</p> + +<p>Westby thumped himself down on a bench, +dangling one spiked running shoe by the +string.</p> + +<p>“What! Kiddy!”</p> + +<p>“The same,” said Scarborough.</p> + +<p>Westby said nothing more; he stooped and +put on his shoe, and then he rose and came +over to Scarborough, who was untangling a +knot. He passed his hand over Scarborough’s +head and remarked wonderingly, “Feels perfectly +normal—strange—strange!”</p> + +<p>Morrill came in from outside, clapping his +hands. “Corinthians out for the mile—Heath<a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a><span class="pagenum" title="125"></span>—Price—Bolton—Edwards—all +ready?”</p> + +<p>The four named answered by clumping on +their spikes to the door.</p> + +<p>A moment later came the Pythian call from +Dennison; Collingwood and Morse responded. +The first event of the day was about to begin. +Westby leisurely brushed his hair, which had +been disarranged in the process of undressing; +he was like a cat in respect of his hair and +could not endure to have it rumpled. When it +was parted and plastered down to his satisfaction, +he slipped a dressing gown on over his +running clothes and went out of doors.</p> + +<p>The fall track meet was not of the same importance +as that in the spring, which was a +scratch event. But there were cups for prizes, +and there was always much rivalry between +the two athletic clubs, the Corinthians and +Pythians, as to which could show the most +winners. So for that day the football players +rested from their practice; many of them in +fact were entered in the sports—though, like +Collingwood, without any special preparation. +The school turned out to look on and cheer;<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a><span class="pagenum" title="126"></span> +when Westby left the athletic house, he saw +the boys lined up on the farther side of the +track. The field was reserved for contestants +and officials; already many figures in trailing +dressing gowns were wandering over it, and +off at one side three or four were having a +preliminary practice in putting the shot.</p> + +<p>But most of those who were privileged to +be on the field stood at the farther side, where +the start for the mile run was about to take +place. Westby saw Randolph and Irving kneeling +by the track, measuring off the handicap +distances with a tape line; Barclay walked +along it, and summoned the different contestants +to their places. By the time that Westby +had crossed the field, the six runners were at +their stations; there was an interval of a hundred +and forty yards between Collingwood, at +scratch, and young Price of the Fourth Form.</p> + +<p>Westby came up and stood near Irving, +and fixed him with a whimsical smile.</p> + +<p>“Quite a new departure for you, isn’t it, +Mr. Upton?” he said.</p> + +<p>“I thought I’d come down and see if you<a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a><span class="pagenum" title="127"></span> +can run as fast as you can talk, Westby.” Irving +drew out the revolver, somewhat ostentatiously.</p> + +<p>“I hope you won’t shoot any one with that; +it looks to me as if you ought to be careful +how you handle it, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you for the advice, Westby.” Irving +turned from the humorist, and raised his +voice. “All ready for the mile now! On your +marks! Set!”</p> + +<p>He held the pistol aloft and fired, and the +six runners trotted away. There is nothing very +exciting about the start of a mile run, and Irving +felt that the intensity with which he had +given the commands had been rather absurd. +It was annoying to think that Westby had +been standing by and finding perhaps in his +nervousness a delectable subject for mockery +and derision.</p> + +<p>Irving walked down the track towards the +finish line. He found Barclay there holding +the watch.</p> + +<p>“You seem to be discharging your arduous +duties successfully,” said Barclay.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a><span class="pagenum" title="128"></span>“Oh, so far.” Irving looked up the track; +the foremost runners were rounding the curve +at the end of their first lap. He had a moment’s +longing to be one of them, stretching +his legs like them, trying out his strength and +speed on the smooth cinder track against +others as eager as himself. He had never done +anything of that kind; hardly until now had +he ever felt the desire. Why it should come +upon him now so poignantly he did not know; +but on this warm October afternoon, when +the air and the sunshine were as soft as in +early September, he wished that he might be +a boy again and do the things which as a boy +he had never done. To be still young and +looking on at the sports and the strife of +youth, sports and strife in which he had never +borne a part—there was something humiliating +and ignoble in the thought. If he could +only be for the moment the little Fourth +Former there, Price—now flying on in the +lead yet casting many fearful backward glances!—Poor +child, even Irving’s inexperienced eyes +told him that he could never keep that pace.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a><span class="pagenum" title="129"></span>“Go it, kid!” cried three or four older boys +good-naturedly, as Price panted by; and he +threw back his head and came down more +springily upon his toes, trying in response to +the cheer to display his best form.</p> + +<p>After him came Bolton and Edwards, side +by side; and Collingwood, who started at +scratch, had moved up a little on Morse and +Heath. Heath was considered the strongest +runner in the event for the Corinthians, and +they urged him on with cries of “Heath! +Heath!” as he made the turn. “You’ve got +’em, Lou!” shouted a group of Pythians the +next moment as Collingwood passed. It was +early in the race for any great demonstration +of excitement.</p> + +<p>It was Price whom Irving watched with +most sympathy. When he got round on the +farther side of the field, his pace had slackened +perceptibly; Bolton and Edwards passed +him and kept on widening the distance; Morse +and Heath passed him at the next turn; and +when he came down to the turn in front of +the crowd, running heavily, Collingwood over<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a><span class="pagenum" title="130"></span>hauled +and passed him. It was rather an unfeeling +thing for Collingwood to do, right +there in front of the crowd, but he was driven +to it by force of circumstances; the four other +runners were holding on in a way he did not +like. The cries of encouragement to him and +to Heath were more urgent this time; Bolton +and Edwards and Morse had their supporters +too.</p> + +<p>Westby ran along the field beside Price, +and Irving felt a moment’s indignation; was +Westby taunting the plucky and exhausted +small boy? And then Irving saw that he was +not, and at the same instant Barclay turned +to him and said,—</p> + +<p>“Price is Westby’s young cousin.”</p> + +<p>Irving stood near enough to hear Westby +say, “Good work, Tom; you set the pace just +right; it’ll kill Collingwood. Now drop out.”</p> + +<p>Price shook his head and kept on; Westby +trotted beside him, saying anxiously, “There’s +no use in your wearing yourself all out.” But +Price continued at his determined, pounding +trot.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a><span class="pagenum" title="131"></span>“He’s a plucky kid,” said Barclay.</p> + +<p>“Rather nice of Westby to take such an +interest,” said Irving.</p> + +<p>Barclay nodded. From that point on it became +a close and interesting race, yet every +now and then Irving’s eyes strayed to the +small figure toiling farther and farther to the +rear—but always toiling. Westby stood on +the edge of the green oval, not far away, and +when on the third lap Heath came by in the +lead, ran with him a few moments and shouted +advice and encouragement in his ear; he had +to shout, for all the Corinthians were shouting +for Heath now, and the Pythians were shouting +just as loudly for Collingwood, who, pocketed +by the two other Corinthians, Bolton and +Edwards, was running fifteen yards behind. +Morse, the only Pythian to support Collingwood, +was hopelessly out of it.</p> + +<p>Westby left Heath and turned his eyes +backward. His cousin came to the turn, white-faced, +and mouth hanging open; the crowd +clapped the boy. “Quit it, Tom!” cried Westby. +“Quit it; there’s no sense—” but Price went<a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a><span class="pagenum" title="132"></span> +pounding on. Westby stood looking after him +with a worried frown, and then because there +was a sudden shout, he turned to look at the +others.</p> + +<p>There, on the farther side of the field, Collingwood +had at last extricated himself from +the pocket; he was running abreast of Bolton; +Edwards had fallen behind. Heath was spurting; +Collingwood passed Bolton, but in doing +so did not lessen Heath’s lead—a lead of +fully fifteen yards. So they came to the last +turn, to the long straight-away home-stretch; +and the crowd clustered by the finish broke +and ran up alongside the track to meet them. +Every one was yelling wildly—one name or another—“Corinthian!” +“Pythian!” “Heath!” +“Collingwood!”</p> + +<p>Barclay ran across the track with one end +of the tape,—the finish line; Mr. Randolph +held the other. “Collingwood! Collingwood!” +rose the shout; Irving, standing on tiptoe, saw +that Collingwood was gaining, saw that at last +he and Heath were running side by side; they +held together while the crowd ran with them<a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a><span class="pagenum" title="133"></span> +shouting. Irving pressed closer to the track; +Westby in his dressing gown was jumping up +and down beside him, waving his arms; Irving +had to crane his neck and peer, in order to see +beyond those loose flapping sleeves. He saw +the light-haired Collingwood and the black-haired +Heath, coming down with their heads +back and their teeth bared and clenched; they +were only fifteen yards away. And then Collingwood +leaped ahead; it was as if he had unloosed +some latent and unconquerable spring, +which hurled him in a final burst of speed +across the tape and into half a dozen welcoming +arms. Heath stumbled after him, even more +in need of such friendly services; but both of +them revived very quickly when Mr. Barclay, +rushing into the crowd with the watch, cried, +“Within eight seconds of the record! Both +of you fellows will break it next June.”</p> + +<p>The other runners came gasping in—and +Price was still toiling away in the rear. He +had been half a lap behind; he came now into +the home-stretch; the crowd began to laugh, +and then more kindly, as he drew nearer, to<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a><span class="pagenum" title="134"></span> +applaud. They clapped and called, “Good +work, Price!” Westby met him about fifty +yards from the finish and ran with him, saying, +“You’ve got to stick it out now, Tom; +you can’t drop out now; you’re all right, old +boy—lots of steam in your boiler—you’ll +break a record yet.” Irving caught some of +the speeches. And so Westby was there when +Price crossed the line and collapsed in a heap +on the track.</p> + +<p>It was not for long; they brought him to +with water, and Westby knelt by him fanning +his face with the skirt of his dressing gown. +Barclay picked the boy up. “Oh, I’m all +right, sir,” said Price, and he insisted on being +allowed to walk to the athletic house alone,—which +he did rather shakily.</p> + +<p>Westby flirted the cinders from the skirt +of his dressing gown. “Blamed little fool,” he +remarked to Carroll and to Allison, who stood +by. “Wouldn’t his mother give me the dickens, +though, for letting him do that!” But +Irving, who heard, knew there was a ring of +pride in Westby’s voice—as if Westby felt<a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a><span class="pagenum" title="135"></span> +that his cousin was a credit to the family. And +Irving thought he was.</p> + +<p>The sports went on; not many of the runs +were as exciting as that with which the afternoon +had opened. Irving passed back and +forth across the field, helped measure distances +for the handicaps, and tried to be useful. His +interest had certainly been awakened. Twice +in college he had sat on the “bleachers” +and viewed indifferently the track contests between +Yale and Harvard; he had had a patriotic +desire to see his own college win, but he +had been indifferent to the performance of +the individuals. They had not been individuals +to him—merely strange figures performing +in an arena. But here, where he knew +the boys and walked about among them, and +saw the different manifestations of nervousness +and excitement, and watched the muscles +in their slim legs and arms, he became himself +eager and sympathetic. He stood by when +Scarborough went on putting the shot after +beating all the other competitors—went on +putting it in an attempt to break the School<a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a><span class="pagenum" title="136"></span> +record. Unconsciously Irving pressed forward +to see him as he prepared for the third and last +try; unconsciously he stood with lips parted +and eyes shining, fascinated by the huge muscles +that rose in Scarborough’s brown arm +as he poised the weight at his shoulder and +heaved it tentatively. And when it was announced +that the effort had fallen short by +only a few inches, Irving’s sigh of disappointment +went up with that of the boys.</p> + +<p>At intervals the races were run off—the +two-twenty, the quarter-mile, the half-mile, the +high hurdles, the low hurdles. Irving started +them all without any mishap. The last one, +the low hurdles for two hundred and twenty +yards, was exciting; the runners were all well +matched and the handicaps were small. And +so, after firing the revolver, Irving started and +ran across the field as hard as he could, to be +at the finish; he arrived in time, and stood, +still holding the revolver in his hand, while +Morrill and Flack and Mason raced side by +side to the tape. They finished in that order, +not more than a yard apart; and Irving rammed<a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a><span class="pagenum" title="137"></span> +his revolver into his pocket and clapped his +hands and cheered with the Corinthians.</p> + +<p>The Pythians were now two points ahead, +and there remained only one event, the hundred +yards. First place counted five points and +second place two; in these games third place +did not count. So if a Corinthian should win +the hundred yards, the Corinthians would be +victorious in the meet by one point.</p> + +<p>There were eight entries in the hundred yards—a +large number to run without interfering +with one another. But the track was wide, and +two of the boys had handicaps of ten yards, one +had five yards, and one had three. So they were +spread out pretty well at the start, and consequently +the danger of interference was minimized.</p> + +<p>The runners threw off their dressing gowns +and took their places. Drake, Flack, Westby, +and Mason lined up at scratch,—Westby +having drawn the inside place and being +flanked by the two Pythians. There was a moment’s +pawing of the cinders, and settling down +firmly on the spikes.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a><span class="pagenum" title="138"></span>“Ready, everybody!” cried Irving. He drew +the revolver from his pocket and held it aloft. +He was as excited as any of the runners; there +was the nervous thrill in his voice. “On your +marks!” They put their hands to the ground; +he ran his eyes along them to see that all were +placed. “Set!” There was the instant stiffening +of muscles. Then from the revolver came +a click. Irving had emptied the six chambers +in starting the other races, and had forgotten +to reload.</p> + +<p>“Just a moment, fellows; ease off!” he +called, and they all straightened up and faced +towards him questioningly. “Just till I slip in +a cartridge,” Irving explained with embarrassment.</p> + +<p>Westby turned on him a delighted grin, and +said,—</p> + +<p>“Can I be of any assistance, Mr. Upton?”</p> + +<p>“No, thank you,” said Irving, and having +slipped in one cartridge, he began filling the +other chambers of the revolver.</p> + +<p>“It takes only one shot to start,” observed +Westby.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a><span class="pagenum" title="139"></span>“Yes,” said Irving. “If I fire a second, it +will be to call you back because of a false start.—Now +then,—all ready once more. On your +marks!” They crouched. “Set!” He fired.</p> + +<p>Somehow in the start Westby’s foot slipped, +and in trying to get clear he lunged against +Flack. Irving saw it and instantly fired a second +shot, and shouted, “Come back, come +back!” The runners heeded the signal and the +shout, but as they tiptoed up the track, they +looked irritated.</p> + +<p>“Westby, you fouled Flack.” Irving spoke +with some asperity. “I shall have to set you +back a yard.”</p> + +<p>“It was an accident,” Westby replied warmly. +“My foot slipped. I couldn’t help myself.”</p> + +<p>“But it was a foul,” declared Irving, “and +I shall have to set you back a yard.”</p> + +<p>“It was an accident, I tell you,” repeated +Westby.</p> + +<p>“If it was an accident, you oughtn’t to set +him back,” said Drake, his fellow Corinthian.</p> + +<p>“It’s in the starter’s discretion,” spoke up +Mason, the Pythian.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"></a><span class="pagenum" title="140"></span>“The penalty’s a yard,” affirmed Irving.</p> + +<p>Westby shut his lips tight and looked angrily +contemptuous. Irving measured the distance. +“There,” he said, “you will start there.”</p> + +<p>Westby took the place behind the others +without a word.</p> + +<p>“Ready now! On your marks!”</p> + +<p>The pistol cracked, and this time they all +got away safely, and Irving raced after them +over the grass.</p> + +<p>From the crowd at the finish came the instant +shout of names; out of the short choppy +cries two names especially emerged, “Flack! +Flack! Flack!” “Westby! Westby! Westby!” +Those two were the favorites for the event. +Irving saw the scratch men forge ahead, and +mingle with the handicap runners; in the confusion +of flying white figures he could not see +who were leading. But the tumult near the +finish grew wild; arms and caps were swung +aloft, boys were leaping up and down; the red-haired +Dennison ran along the edge of the +track, waving his arms; Morrill on the other +side did the same thing; the next moment the +<a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"></a><span class="pagenum" title="141"></span>race had ended in a tumultuous rush of shouting +boys.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 427px;"><a name="Page_140f" id="Page_140f"></a><span class="pagenum" title="Facing 140"></span> +<img src="images/140.jpg" width="427" height="656" alt="[Illustration: AS TO WHO HAD WON, IRVING HAD NOT THE SLIGHTEST IDEA]" title="AS TO WHO HAD WON, IRVING HAD NOT THE SLIGHTEST IDEA" /> +<span>AS TO WHO HAD WON, IRVING HAD NOT THE SLIGHTEST IDEA</span> +</div> + +<p>As to who had won, Irving had not the +slightest idea. He was hastening up to find +out—hoping that it had been Westby. And +then out from the crowd burst Westby and +rushed towards him, panting, flushed, hot-eyed, +attended by Morrill and half a dozen +other Corinthians.</p> + +<p>“I hope you’re satisfied with your spite-work,” +said Westby. His voice shook with +passion, his eyes blazed; never before had +Irving seen him when he had so lost control +of himself. “You lost me that race—by half +a yard! I hope you’re pleased with yourself!”</p> + +<p>He surveyed Irving scornfully, breathing +hard, then turned his back and strode off to +the athletic house.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"></a><span class="pagenum" title="142"></span>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE WORM BEGINS TO TURN</h3> + + +<p>After the charge which Westby had +flung at him so furiously, Irving looked +in amazement to the other boys for an explanation. +They were all Corinthians, and he saw +gloom and resentment in their faces.</p> + +<p>“I think it was pretty rough, Mr. Upton, +to penalize him for an unintentional foul,” +said Morrill. “He’d have beaten Flack if +they’d started even.”</p> + +<p>“But it <em>was</em> a foul,” protested Irving. “So +I had to penalize him. I made it as small a +penalty as I could.”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t have to penalize him unless +you wanted to,” said Morrill grimly. “Of +course you had a perfect right to do as you +pleased, only—” He shrugged his shoulders +and walked away, followed by the other Corinthians.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"></a><span class="pagenum" title="143"></span>Irving stood stricken. So this was the outcome; +in seeking to be sympathetic and to be +understood, he had only caused himself somehow +to be more hated and despised. Bitterness +rose within him, bitterness against Westby, +against Morrill, against boys in general, against +the school. And only an hour ago, from what +he had seen and heard, he had felt that he +could like Westby, and had been not without +some hope that Westby might some time like +him.</p> + +<p>He saw Barclay standing with Mr. Randolph +by the table on which were the prize +cups; Barclay was bending over, arranging +them, and the boys were gathering on the opposite +side of the track, being “policed back” +by the half-dozen members of the athletic +committee. Evidently the award of prizes was +to be made at once, and either Barclay or +Randolph was to hand out the cups—perhaps +also to make a speech. But Irving could not +wait; he must satisfy himself of his doubts +and fears, and so he hurried forward and +touched Barclay on the shoulder.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></a><span class="pagenum" title="144"></span>“Just a moment, please,” he said, as Barclay +turned. “Did I do anything wrong?”</p> + +<p>“You penalized Westby a yard for fouling, +I heard; is that so?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you were within your rights. But +if it was obviously an unintentional foul, I +shouldn’t have been so strict.”</p> + +<p>“I misunderstood what you told me,” sighed +Irving. “I thought that in case of foul a fellow +<em>had</em> to be penalized.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no.” Barclay was busy; he had to +think up something to say, by way of a speech, +and he turned and began fussing again with +the cups.</p> + +<p>Irving walked away. Even his friend Barclay +was not sympathetic, did not understand +the seriousness of what had happened. He +could not stay longer to be the target of hostile, +vengeful eyes; he felt that half the boys +there were blaming him in their hearts for the +defeat of their team—and that the others had +no gratitude to him for their victory. Not that +it would have made him feel any better if they<a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a><span class="pagenum" title="145"></span> +had; he had only wanted and tried to be +fair.</p> + +<p>He walked away from the field, crossed the +track, and passed round into the avenue that +led up to the School. When he had gone as +far as the bend where from behind the cluster of +trees the School buildings became visible, he +heard the pleasant ripple of laughter from the +crowd. Some one, probably Barclay, was making +a speech; to think of being able to stand +before boys and make them laugh like that! +It seemed to Irving that he had never before +known what envy was.</p> + +<p>He spent a mournful hour in his room; then, +hearing footsteps on the stairs, he closed his +door. The boys were returning from the field; +he felt sure there would be remarks about him +by Westby and Morrill and other Corinthians +up and down the corridor, and he preferred +not to hear them. To his surprise there was +rather less disturbance than usual; perhaps +the boys were too tired after their exciting and +active afternoon to indulge in noisy skylarking. +So Irving did not have to emerge from<a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a><span class="pagenum" title="146"></span> +his solitude until the supper bell rang. Even +then he waited until all the boys had passed +his door and were clattering down the stairs. +Yet as he descended, Westby’s indignant voice +floated up to him,—</p> + +<p>“Just because I guyed him—he felt he had +to get even.”</p> + +<p>At supper Westby did not look at Irving. +One of the boys, Blake, made a comment; he +said,—</p> + +<p>“That was a mighty good race you ran, +Westby; hard luck you were handicapped.”</p> + +<p>“You can call it hard luck if you want,” +said Westby.</p> + +<p>“How did it happen, anyway?” Blake +asked, quite innocently.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t ask <em>me</em>,” said Westby.</p> + +<p>Three or four of the boys who did know +glanced slyly at Irving, and Irving, though he +had meant to say nothing, spoke up; there was +electricity in the air.</p> + +<p>“Westby was unfortunate enough to foul +Flack at the start; that was all there was to +it,” he said. “I saw it and set him back a<a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></a><span class="pagenum" title="147"></span> +yard. I was under the impression that in case +of foul a penalty had to be imposed—and I +made the penalty as light as possible.”</p> + +<p>He felt that this statement ought to appease +any reasonable boy. But Westby was not in a +reasonable mood. He paid no attention to +Irving; he addressed the table.</p> + +<p>“I told Scarborough he might have known +things would be botched somehow.”</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked Blake.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you’ve got to have officials who know +their business.”</p> + +<p>There was an interval of silence at the +table; Westby, having fired his shot, sat +straight, with cheeks flushed, looking across +at Blake.</p> + +<p>“Westby feels that he has had provocation +and therefore may be rude.” Irving spoke at +last with calmness. “It’s true that I never +officiated before at any races. At the same +time, I don’t believe I did anything which +some experienced officials would not have +done. There are probably a good many who +believe in penalizing a runner for clumsy and<a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></a><span class="pagenum" title="148"></span> +stupid interference as well as for deliberate +intent to foul.”</p> + +<p>He had spoken mildly; he did not even +emphasize the words “clumsy and stupid.” +But the retort went home; the Pythians at the +table,—of whom Blake was one,—chuckled; +and Westby, with a deeper shade of crimson +on his face and a sudden compression of his +lips, lowered his eyes.</p> + +<p>Irving had triumphed, but after the first +moment he felt surprisingly little satisfaction +in his triumph. He could not help being sorry +for Westby; the boy was after all right in feeling +that he had been deprived of a victory to +which he had been entitled. And as Irving +looked at his downcast face, he softened still +further; Westby had so often delighted in +humiliating him, and he had longed for the +opportunity of reprisal. Now it had come, and +Westby was humiliated, and the audience were +not unsympathetic with Irving for the achievement; +yet Irving felt already the sting of remorse. +Westby was only a boy, and he was a +master; it was not well for a master to mortify<a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></a><span class="pagenum" title="149"></span> +a boy in the presence of other boys—a boy +whose disappointment was already keen.</p> + +<p>The letters were distributed; there was one +for Irving from his brother. It contained news +that made the world a different place from +what it had been an hour ago. Lawrence was +playing left end on the Harvard Freshman +football eleven; not only that, but in the first +game of the season, played against a Boston +preparatory school, he had made the only +touchdown. He added that that didn’t mean +much, for he had got the ball on a fluke; +still, the tone of the letter was excited and +elated.</p> + +<p>And it excited and elated Irving. He folded +the letter and put it in his pocket; he sat for +a moment looking out of the window with +dreamy eyes and an unconscious smile. Lawrence +was succeeding, was going to succeed, +in a way far different from his own—if his +own college course could be said in any sense +to have terminated in success. Lawrence would +have the athletic and the social experience +which he had never had; Lawrence would be<a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></a><span class="pagenum" title="150"></span> +popular as he had never been; Lawrence would +go brilliantly through college as he had never +done. Everything now was in Lawrence’s reach, +and he was a boy who would not be spoiled or +led astray by the achievement of temporary +glories.</p> + +<p>In the vision of his brother’s triumphant +career, Irving was transported from the troubles +and perplexities, from the self-reproaches +and the doubts which had been making him +unhappy. He wanted now to share his happiness, +to take the boys into his confidence—but +one can share one’s happiness only with +one’s friends. There was Westby, aggrieved +and hostile; there was Carroll, sitting next to +him, the queer, quizzical, silent youth, with +whom Irving had been entirely unable to establish +any relation of intimacy; no, there were +no boys at his table with whom he was intimate +enough to appeal for their interest and congratulations. +And feeling this, he shrank from +communicating the news,—though he felt +sure that even Westby, who was going to +Harvard the next year, might be interested<a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></a><span class="pagenum" title="151"></span> +in it; he shrank from anything like boasting. +He found an outlet soon; Barclay came +to see him that evening.</p> + +<p>“I looked for you this afternoon, after the +giving out of the prizes,” said Barclay. “But +I couldn’t find you.”</p> + +<p>“No, I didn’t wait for that. Did you make +a speech? I heard the boys laughing and +cheering as I came away.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, I got off a few stale jokes and +some heavy-footed persiflage. It went well +enough.—But I looked for you afterwards +because I felt I may have seemed rather short +when you came up; the truth is, I was racking +my brain at that moment; Scarborough had +just sprung the fact on me that I must make +the speech.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it was all right,” said Irving. “I’m +sorry to have bothered you at such a time. I +was just a little agitated because Westby was +rather angry over being penalized in the hundred—”</p> + +<p>“So I hear. Well, it was hard luck in a way—but +after all you had a perfect right to pe<a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"></a><span class="pagenum" title="152"></span>nalize +him; he did foul, and he ought to be +sport enough to take the consequences.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose it wouldn’t have been—it +wouldn’t be possible to run the race over?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not. Besides, Westby has no +right to say that if he’d started even with +Flack, he’d have beaten him. It’s true that he +gained half a yard on Flack in the race; but +it’s also true that Flack knew he had that +much leeway. There’s no telling how much +more Flack might have done if he’d had to. +So if Westby says anything to me, I shall tell +him just that.”</p> + +<p>“I feel sorry about the thing anyway. I’m +sorry I made a mess of it—as usual.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, cheer up; it’s not going to do you +any harm with the fellows. A little momentary +flash from Westby and Morrill—”</p> + +<p>“No, I wasn’t thinking of myself.”</p> + +<p>“You weren’t!” The bluntness of Barclay’s +exclamation of astonishment caused Irving to +blush, and Barclay himself, realizing what he +had betrayed to Irving’s perception, looked +embarrassed. But Irving laughed.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a><span class="pagenum" title="153"></span>“I don’t wonder you’re surprised. I guess +that’s been the worst trouble with me here—thinking +about myself. And that was what +was troubling me when I went to you this +afternoon. But it isn’t any longer. I feel bad +about Westby. I can’t help thinking I did rob +him of his race—and then I sat on him at +supper into the bargain.”</p> + +<p>Barclay shouted with laughter. “You sat +on Westby—and you’re sorry for it! What’s +happened to you, anyway? Tell me about it.”</p> + +<p>Irving narrated the circumstances. “And I +want to be friendly with him,” he concluded. +“Don’t you think I might explain that it +was a blunder on my part—and that I’m +sorry I blundered?”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t,” said Barclay. “He’s beginning +to respect you now. Don’t do anything +to make him think you’re a little soft. That’s +what he wants to think, and he’d construe any +such move on your part unfavorably.”</p> + +<p>“Well, perhaps so.” Irving sighed.</p> + +<p>“You’re stiffening up quite a lot,” observed +Barclay.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"></a><span class="pagenum" title="154"></span>“I was very wobbly when Westby and the +other fellows went for me after that race,” +confessed Irving. “If I stiffened up, I guess +it was just the courage of desperation. And I +don’t think that amounts to much. But I’ve +cheered up for good now.”</p> + +<p>“How’s that?”</p> + +<p>Somewhat shyly Irving communicated the +proud news about his brother.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I read about him in to-day’s Boston +newspaper,” exclaimed Barclay.</p> + +<p>“What?” asked Irving. “Where was it? +I didn’t see it.”</p> + +<p>“You probably don’t read all the football +news, as I do. But you will after this.” Barclay +laughed. “Yes, there was quite an account of +that game, and Upton was mentioned as being +the bright particular star on the Freshman +team. It never occurred to me that he was +your brother.”</p> + +<p>“Naturally not. I wish I could get away +to see the game with the Yale Freshmen; +I’ve never seen Lawrence play. But I don’t +suppose I could manage that, could I?”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"></a><span class="pagenum" title="155"></span>Barclay looked doubtful. “The rector’s +pretty strict with the masters as well as with +the boys. Especially when a man has charge +of a dormitory. I somehow think it wouldn’t +be wise to try it,—your first term.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose not. Well, I shall certainly read +the football columns from now on.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” remarked Barclay, “if we +couldn’t get the Harvard Freshmen up here +to play a practice game with our School eleven—say, +the week before the St. John’s game? +It would be good practice for them as well as +for us; three or four years ago the Freshmen +played here.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I wish we could.” Irving’s face lighted +up. “I’ll write to my brother, and perhaps he +can arrange it with the captain and manager.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll talk it over with Collingwood first,” +said Barclay. “And then we’ll proceed officially; +and you can pull any additional wires +that are possible through your brother.” He +rose to go. “I shouldn’t wonder,” he added, +“if that brother of yours turned out to be a +useful asset for you here.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"></a><span class="pagenum" title="156"></span>“I should prefer to stand on my own legs,” +said Irving. “I shan’t advertise it round that +I have a football brother.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it won’t be necessary for you to do +that; things have a way of leaking out.” +Barclay laughed as he took his departure.</p> + +<p>As it happened, the next day Louis Collingwood, +the captain of the School eleven, went +to Barclay to consult him about the outlook +for the season.</p> + +<p>“It seems to me we’ll have a good School +team,” said Collingwood, “but no second +eleven capable of giving them hard practice—the +kind they’ll need to beat St. John’s. +If we could only arrange one or two games +with outside teams, to put us into shape—”</p> + +<p>“I was thinking of that,” said Barclay. “I +wonder if we mightn’t get the Harvard Freshmen +up here. They have a good eleven, apparently.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, awfully good, from all that the papers +say. Don’t you suppose their schedule is filled +up?”</p> + +<p>“It may be—but perhaps they could give<a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"></a><span class="pagenum" title="157"></span> +us a date. Suppose you come over to my house +this evening and we’ll send a letter off to +their captain. And I’m sure”—Barclay +threw the remark out in the most casual manner—“Mr. +Upton will be glad to approach +them for us through his brother.”</p> + +<p>“His brother? Who’s that?”</p> + +<p>“Why, didn’t you know? His brother plays +left end on the team—”</p> + +<p>“Kiddy Upton’s brother on the Harvard +Freshmen! No!”</p> + +<p>“Whose brother?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton’s, I meant to say.” Louis +grinned. “Is he really, Mr. Barclay?”</p> + +<p>“I’m rather surprised you didn’t know it. +But I guess Mr. Upton is the kind that doesn’t +talk much.”</p> + +<p>“I should think he’d have let that out.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he let it out to me. I suspect—though +he hasn’t told me—that he’s helping +to put his brother through college. And his +success in doing that will naturally depend +largely on his success or failure here as a +master.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"></a><span class="pagenum" title="158"></span>“You mean—keeping his job?”</p> + +<p>Barclay nodded. “Yes. Oh, I don’t suppose +there’s any real doubt about that. He’s a +perfectly competent teacher, isn’t he? You +know; you have a class with him.”</p> + +<p>“Ye-es,” said Louis, slowly. “The trouble +has been, the fellows horse him a good deal—though +not quite so much as they did.”</p> + +<p>“They’ll get over that when they know +him better,” remarked Barclay.</p> + +<p>He knew that Louis Collingwood went away +feeling much impressed, and he was pretty +sure he had done Irving a good turn.</p> + +<p>It was in the noon half-hour, while Collingwood +was holding this interview with Mr. +Barclay, that Westby, reading the Harvard +news in his Boston paper, went giggling into +Morrill’s room.</p> + +<p>“There’s a fellow named Upton playing on +the Freshmen.” He showed Morrill the name. +“Let’s get a crowd and go in to Kiddy; I’ll +get him rattled.”</p> + +<p>“How?” asked Morrill.</p> + +<p>“Oh, ask him if this fellow’s a relation of<a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a><span class="pagenum" title="159"></span> +his, and say I supposed of course he must be—such +athletic prowess, and all that sort of +thing; with a crowd standing there giggling +you know how rattled he’ll get.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said Morrill, who was an earnest +admirer of Westby’s wit.</p> + +<p>So they collected Dennison and Smythe and +Allison and Carroll and Scarborough, and +marched up the corridor—humorously tramping +in step—to Irving’s door. There Westby, +newspaper in hand, knocked. Irving opened +the door.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton, sir,” began Westby, “sorry to +disturb you, sir.” The boys all began to grin, +and Irving saw that he was in for some carefully +planned attack. “I was just reading my +morning paper, sir, and I wanted to ask you +what relation to you the man named Upton +is that’s playing on the Harvard Freshman +eleven, sir.”</p> + +<p>Irving’s eyes twinkled; if ever the enemy +had been delivered into his hands!</p> + +<p>“What makes you think he’s a relation?” +he asked, with an assumption of cold dignity.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a><span class="pagenum" title="160"></span>“Oh, we all feel sure he must be, sir. Of +course your well-known and justly famous interest +in all athletic sports, sir—not to say +your prowess in them, sir—it’s natural to +suppose that any athlete named Upton would +belong to the same family with you, sir.”</p> + +<p>The boys were all on the broad grin; +Westby’s manner was so expansively courteous, +his compliments were so absurdly urbane, that +Irving threw off his air of coldness and adopted +a jaunty manner of reply which was even +more misleading.</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, if you’ve been so clever as to +guess it, Westby,” he said, “I don’t mind +telling you—it’s my brother.”</p> + +<p>Westby bestowed on his confederates—quite +indifferent as to whether Irving detected +it or not—his slow, facetious wink. He returned +then to his victim and in his most +gamesome manner said,—</p> + +<p>“I supposed of course it was your brother, +sir. Or at least I should have supposed so, except +that I didn’t know you had a brother at +Harvard. Wasn’t it rather—what shall I say?<a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"></a><span class="pagenum" title="161"></span>—<em>peu +aimable</em> not to have taken us, your +friends, into your confidence? Would you mind +telling us, sir, what your brother’s first name +is?”</p> + +<p>“My brother’s first name? Lawrence.”</p> + +<p>“Hm!” said Westby, referring to his newspaper. +“I find him set down here as ‘T. Upton.’ +But I suppose that is a misprint, of +course.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose it must be,” agreed Irving.</p> + +<p>“Newspapers are always making mistakes, +aren’t they?” said Westby. “Such careless +fellows! We’d like awfully to hear more +about your brother Lawrence, Mr. Upton.”</p> + +<p>The broad grin broke into a snicker.</p> + +<p>“Why, I don’t know just what there is to +tell,” Irving said awkwardly.</p> + +<p>“What does he look like, sir? Does he resemble +you very much?—I mean, apart from +the family fondness for athletics.”</p> + +<p>Irving’s lips twitched; Westby was enjoying +so thoroughly his revenge! And the other +boys were all stifling their amusement.</p> + +<p>“We are said not to look very much alike,”<a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"></a><span class="pagenum" title="162"></span> +he answered. “He is of a somewhat heavier +build.”</p> + +<p>“He must be somewhat lacking, then, in +grace and agility, sir,” said Westby; and the +boys broke into a shout, and Irving gave way +to a faint smile.</p> + +<p>At that moment Collingwood came up the +stairs.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Lou,” said Westby, with a welcoming +wink. “We’re just congratulating Mr. +Upton on his brother; did you know that he +has a brother playing on the Harvard Freshmen?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Collingwood. “I’ve just heard +it from Mr. Barclay.”</p> + +<p>The boys stared at Collingwood, then at Irving, +whose eyes were twinkling again and +whose smile had widened. Then they looked +at Westby; he was gazing at Collingwood +unbelievingly,—stupefied.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with you?” asked +Collingwood.</p> + +<p>And then Irving broke out into a delighted +peal of laughter. He could find nothing but<a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"></a><span class="pagenum" title="163"></span> +slang in which to express himself, and through +his laughter he ejaculated,—</p> + +<p>“Stung, my young friend! Stung!”</p> + +<p>They all gave a whoop; they swung Westby +round and rushed him down the corridor to his +room, shouting and jeering.</p> + +<p>When Irving went down to lunch, Carroll, +the quizzical, silent Carroll, welcomed him with +a grin. Westby turned a bright pink and +looked away. At the next table Allison and +Smythe and Scarborough were all looking +over at him and smiling; and at the table beyond +that Collingwood and Morrill and Dennison +were craning their necks and exhibiting +their joy. Westby, the humorist, had suddenly +become the butt, a position which he had +rarely occupied before.</p> + +<p>He was quite subdued through that meal. +Once in the middle of it, Irving looked at him +and caught his eye, and on a sudden impulse +leaned back and laughed. Carroll joined in, +Westby blushed once more, the Sixth Formers +at the next table looked over and began to +laugh; the other boys cast wondering glances.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"></a><span class="pagenum" title="164"></span>“What’s the joke, Mr. Upton?” asked +Blake.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t ask <em>me</em>,” said Irving. “Ask +Westby.”</p> + +<p>“What is it, Wes?” said Blake, and could +not understand why he received such a vicious +kick under the table, or why Carroll said in +such a jeering way, “Yes, Wes, what <em>is</em> the +joke, anyhow?”</p> + +<p>When the meal was over, Westby’s friends +lay in wait for him outside in the hall, crowded +round, and began patting him on the back +and offering him their jocular sympathy. To +have the joke turned on the professional humorist +appeared to be extremely popular; and +the humorist did not take it very well. “Oh, +get out, get out!” he was saying, wrenching +himself from the grasp of first one and then +another. And Irving came out just as he exclaimed +in desperation, “Just the same, I’ll +bet it’s all a fake; I’ll bet he hasn’t got a +brother!”</p> + +<p>He flung himself around, trying to escape<a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a><span class="pagenum" title="165"></span> +from Collingwood’s clutch, and saw Irving. +The smile faded from Irving’s face; Westby +looked at him sullenly for a moment, then +broke away and made a rush up the stairs.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"></a><span class="pagenum" title="166"></span>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>THE HARVARD FRESHMAN</h3> + + +<p>For two or three days the intercourse +between Irving and Westby was of the +most formal sort. At table they held no communication +with each other; in the class-room +Irving gave Westby every chance to recite and +conscientiously helped him through the recitation +as much as he did any one else; in the +dormitory they exchanged a cold good-night. +Irving did not press Westby for a retraction +of the charge which he had overheard the boy +make; it seemed to him unworthy to dignify +it by taking such notice of it. He knew that +none of the boys really believed it and that +Westby himself did not believe it, but had +been goaded into the declaration in the desperate +effort to maintain a false position. Irving +wondered if the boy would not have the fairness +to make some acknowledgment of the<a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a><span class="pagenum" title="167"></span> +injustice into which his pride had provoked +him.</p> + +<p>And one day at luncheon, Westby turned +to Irving and with an embarrassed smile said,</p> + +<p>“Mr. Upton, do you get any news from +your brother about the Harvard Freshman +eleven?”</p> + +<p>Carroll directed at Westby the quizzical look +under which Irving had so often suffered. But +Westby did not flinch; he waited for Irving’s +answer, with his embarrassed, appealing smile.</p> + +<p>“I had a letter from him this morning,” +said Irving. “He writes that there is a chance +of their coming up here to play the School +eleven; I had asked him if that couldn’t be +arranged.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, really!” exclaimed Westby, in a tone +of honest interest.</p> + +<p>“When, Mr. Upton?” “Does he think +they’ll come?” “Does Lou Collingwood know +about it?”</p> + +<p>“I guess he knows as much as I do.” Irving +tried to answer the flood of questions. “He +wrote officially to the captain at the same time<a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a><span class="pagenum" title="168"></span> +that I wrote to Lawrence. If they come at all, +it will be about a week before the St. John’s +game.”</p> + +<p>“When shall we know for sure?” asked +Westby.</p> + +<p>“It appears to be a question whether the +Freshmen will choose to play us or Lakeview +School. They want to play whichever team +seems the stronger, and they’re going to +discuss the prospects and decide in a few +days.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sure we’re better than Lakeview,” declared +Blake. “You’ll tell your brother we +are, won’t you, Mr. Upton?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell him that I understand we have a +very superior team,” said Irving. “I fancy +he knows that it’s as much as I can do to tell +the difference between a quarterback and a +goal post.”</p> + +<p>“You will admit, then, that there was some +reason for my not believing you had a football +brother, won’t you, Mr. Upton?” Westby +tried thus to beat a not wholly inglorious retreat.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"></a><span class="pagenum" title="169"></span>“Every reason—until it became a matter +of doubting my word,” said Irving.</p> + +<p>Westby crimsoned, and Irving felt that again +he had been too severe with him; the boy had +been trying to convey an apology, without +actually making one; it might have been well +to let him off.</p> + +<p>But Irving reflected that the account was +still far from even and that perhaps this unwonted +adversity might be good for Westby. +Irving did not realize quite how much teasing +had been visited upon Westby in consequence +of his disastrous error, or how humiliated the +boy had been in his heart. For Westby was +proud and vain and sensitive, accustomed to +leadership, unused to ridicule; for two days +now the shafts of those whom he had been in +the habit of chaffing with impunity had been +rankling. Because of this sensitive condition, +the final rebuke at the luncheon table, before +all the boys, cut him more deeply than Irving +suspected. Afterwards Westby said to Carroll,—</p> + +<p>“Oh, very well. If he couldn’t accept my<a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"></a><span class="pagenum" title="170"></span> +acknowledgment of my mistake, but had to +jump on me again—well, it’s just spite on +his part; that’s all. I don’t care; I can let +him alone after this. That seems to be what +he wants.”</p> + +<p>“A month ago he wouldn’t have asked more +than that of you,” observed Carroll. “And you +didn’t feel like obliging him then.”</p> + +<p>The implication that Irving had worsted +him galled Westby.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” he retorted, “the best of jokes will +wear out. Kiddy was a perfectly good joke for +a while—”</p> + +<p>Carroll annoyed him by laughing.</p> + +<p>For one who had hitherto been indifferent +to all forms of athletics, Irving developed a +surprising interest in the game of football. +Every afternoon he went to the field and +watched the practice of the Pythian and Corinthian +elevens. He had once thought the forward +pass a detail incapable of engaging one’s +serious attention, and worthy of rebuke if +attempted in dormitory; but after Lawrence +wrote that in executing it he was acquiring<a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"></a><span class="pagenum" title="171"></span> +some proficiency, Irving studied it with a more +curious eye.</p> + +<p>He wondered if Lawrence was as skillful at +it as Collingwood, for instance; Collingwood +had now learned to shoot the ball with accuracy +twenty or twenty-five yards. Occasionally +Irving got hold of a football and tested his +own capacity in throwing it; his attempts convinced +him that in this matter he had a great +deal to learn. Looking back, he could comprehend +Louis Collingwood’s indignation and +amazement at a master who would coldly turn +away when a boy was trying to illustrate for +him the forward pass.</p> + +<p>One afternoon from watching the football +practice Irving moved aside for a little while +to see the finish of the autumn clay-pigeon +shoot of the Gun Club.</p> + +<p>There were only six contestants, and there +were not many spectators; most of the boys +preferred to stay on the football field, where +there was more action; the second Pythians +and second Corinthians were playing a match. +But Irving had heard Westby talking at<a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"></a><span class="pagenum" title="172"></span> +luncheon about the shoot and strolled over +more from curiosity to see how he would acquit +himself than for any other reason.</p> + +<p>The trap was set in the long grass on the +edge of the meadow near the woods; Allison +was performing the unexciting task of pulling +the string and releasing the skimming disks. +When Irving came up, Smythe was finishing; +he did not appear to be much of a shot, for he +missed three out of the seven “birds” which +Irving saw him try for.</p> + +<p>Then it was Westby’s turn. Westby had +got himself up for the occasion, in a Norfolk +jacket and knickerbockers and leggings; he +was always scrupulous about appearing in costumes +that were extravagantly correct. He saw +Irving and somewhat ostentatiously turned +away.</p> + +<p>Irving waited and looked on. Westby stood +in an almost negligent attitude, with his gun +lowered; the trap was sprung, the clay pigeon +flew—and then was shattered in the midst of +its flight. It seemed to Irving that Westby +hardly brought his gun to his shoulder to take<a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a><span class="pagenum" title="173"></span> +aim. It could not all be luck either; that was evident +when Westby demolished ten clay pigeons +in rapid succession. It was Carroll’s turn now; +Westby, having made his perfect score, blew +the smoke from the breech and stood by.</p> + +<p>Irving went up to him.</p> + +<p>“I congratulate you on your shooting, +Westby,” he said. “It seems quite wonderful +to a man who never fired a gun off but a few +times in his life—and then it was a revolver, +with blank cartridges.”</p> + +<p>Westby looked at him coolly. “It’s funny +you’ve never done anything that most fellows +do,” he observed. “Were you always afraid +of hurting yourself?”</p> + +<p>“I was offering my congratulations, Westby,” +said Irving stiffly, and walked away.</p> + +<p>“Why did you go at him like that?” asked +Carroll, who had heard the interchange.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Westby, “I wasn’t going to have +him hanging round swiping to me, soft-soaping +me.”</p> + +<p>“I think he was only trying to be decent,” +said Carroll.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"></a><span class="pagenum" title="174"></span>“I like a man who is decent without trying,” +Westby retorted.</p> + +<p>Yet whether his nerves were a little upset +by the episode or his eye thrown off by the +wait, Westby did not do so well in the next +round. The trap was set to send the birds +skimming lower and faster; Westby missed +two out of ten, and was tied for first place with +Carroll. And in the final shoot to break the +tie, Westby lost.</p> + +<p>He shook hands with Carroll, but with no +excess of good humor. He knew he was really +the better shot, and even though Carroll was +his closest friend, the defeat rankled.</p> + +<p>At supper Blake congratulated Carroll across +the table.</p> + +<p>“You won, did you, Carroll?” asked Irving.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir—by a close shave.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry I didn’t stay to see it.” The +remark was innocent in intention, but to Westby +it seemed edged with malice—as if the master +was exulting over his defeat.</p> + +<p>Something in Westby’s expression told Irving +what the boy had inferred; Irving went<a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"></a><span class="pagenum" title="175"></span> +afterwards to his room in a despondent mood. +It didn’t matter how hard he tried or what +he did; he had not the faculty of winning and +holding affection and respect. As it was with +boys, so it would be with men. If only he +could see how and why he failed, and could +learn to correct his mistakes!</p> + +<p>He felt of more importance in the School +world when a letter from Lawrence was the +first announcement that the Freshman eleven +would come to play St. Timothy’s. He asked +Collingwood if he had had any word, and when +Collingwood said no, he told him his brother’s +message.</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe there can be any mistake,” +said Irving. “He writes that it was decided +only the night before. You’ll probably receive +the official communication in a day or +two.”</p> + +<p>Collingwood was tremendously elated. “I +knew we were better than Lakeview—but I +was afraid they wouldn’t realize it,” he said. +“Now we’ll have to get ready and beat them. +Anyway, if we can’t do that, it will be the<a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"></a><span class="pagenum" title="176"></span> +best kind of preparation for the St. John’s +game.”</p> + +<p>The official communication arrived; Collingwood +rushed with it to the bulletin board in +the Study building and posted it for all eyes +to see. The same day he posted the School +eleven, as it would line up in that game.</p> + +<p>Westby was to be first substitute for Dennison +at right half back. Westby had been +playing a streaky game on the First Corinthians; +on some days he was as brilliant a runner +and tackler as there was in the School, +and on other days he would lose interest and +miss everything.</p> + +<p>If he was disappointed at the preference +given to Dennison, he did not show it; in fact, +that he appeared on the list as substitute +seemed to fill him with elation. He had never +taken football quite so seriously as some of the +others—as Collingwood and Dennison, for example; +and therefore only a moderate success +in it was for him a matter of gratification.</p> + +<p>The training table was organized at once, +but Westby was not admitted to it. There was<a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"></a><span class="pagenum" title="177"></span> +not room for the substitutes; they were expected +to do their own training. Westby was +notoriously lax in that matter and had to be +nagged constantly by Collingwood, whom he +found some pleasure in teasing.</p> + +<p>He would secure some forbidden article of +food and ostentatiously appear to be eating it +with the greatest enjoyment until he caught +Collingwood’s eye; a large circular doughnut +or a chocolate éclair delicately poised between +his thumb and finger were his favorite instruments +for torturing his captain’s peace of mind. +He would contrive to be seen just as he was +on the point of taking the first bite; then he +would reluctantly lay the tidbit down.</p> + +<p>“It’s a hard life, this being a near athlete,” +he grumbled. “Sitting at a table with a lot of +uncongenial pups like you fellows.—Mr. Upton, +Blake’s kicking me; make him quit, sir.—Not +allowed to eat half the things the rest of you +do, and not allowed either to get any of the +training-table grub. Well, I never did think +of self, so I can endure it better than most.”</p> + +<p>The others jeered. But Westby, however he<a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"></a><span class="pagenum" title="178"></span> +might complain, was faithful at practice and +accepted good-naturedly his position upon +the second eleven, and the hard battering to +which every one on the second eleven was subjected.</p> + +<p>The day when he got round Morrill, the +first eleven’s left end, and scored a touchdown—the +only one which in that week of practice +the second eleven scored—brought him so +much applause that he began really to think +there might be a chance of his ousting Dennison +from the regular position. When that notion +entered his head he ceased to be facetious +about the training; he became suddenly as +serious as Collingwood himself. But in spite +of that, he remained Dennison’s substitute.</p> + +<p>The Saturday set for the game with the +Harvard Freshmen was an Indian Summer day. +In the early morning mist wreathed the low +meadows and the edges of the pond; it seemed +later to dissipate itself through all the windless +air in haze. The distant hills were blue and +faint, the elms in the soft sunlight that filtered +down had a more golden glow.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a><span class="pagenum" title="179"></span>“Great day,” was the salutation that one +heard everywhere; “great day for the game.”</p> + +<p>Now and then in his morning classes Irving’s +thoughts would wander, there would be a +gentle rush of excitement in his veins. He would +turn his mind firmly back to his work; he did +not do any less well that day because his heart +was singing happily.</p> + +<p>In three hours more—in two—in one—he +was going to see Lawrence again; he wondered +if he would find his brother much changed. +Only two months had passed since they had +parted; yet in that time how remote Lawrence +had grown in Irving’s eyes from the Lawrence +of the Ohio farm!</p> + +<p>The bell announcing the noon recess rang; +Irving dismissed his last class. He hurried +down the stairs almost as madly as the Fourth +Formers themselves; the train on which the +Harvard Freshmen were coming was due ten +minutes before; already Lawrence and the +others must have started on the two-mile drive +out to the School.</p> + +<p>In front of the Study building most of the<a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a><span class="pagenum" title="180"></span> +older boys and many of the younger were congregated, +awaiting the arrival of the visitors. +Irving walked about among the groups impatiently, +now and then looking at his watch. +He passed Westby and Collingwood, who were +standing together by the gate.</p> + +<p>“Pretty nearly time for them, Mr. Upton,” +said Westby. “Feeling nervous, sir?”</p> + +<p>There was more good nature in his smile +than he had displayed towards Irving since +the day of the track games.</p> + +<p>“A little,” Irving admitted, and at that moment +some one shouted, “Here they come!”</p> + +<p>Over the crest of the hill galloped four +horses, drawing a long red barge crowded +with boys. Collingwood climbed up on the +gate-post.</p> + +<p>“Now, fellows,” he said, “when they get +here, give three times three for the Freshmen.”</p> + +<p>The boys waited in silence. Irving strained +his eyes, trying to distinguish the figures +huddled together in the barge. The horses +came down at a run, with a rattle of hoofs and<a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"></a><span class="pagenum" title="181"></span> +harness; the driver flourished his whip over +them spectacularly.</p> + +<p>“Now then, fellows!” cried Collingwood. +“Three times three for the Freshmen!”</p> + +<p>And amidst the waving of caps as the +cheers were given, Irving could see no one in +the barge. Then when that cheer had subsided, +one of the visitors stood up and took +off his hat and shouted,—</p> + +<p>“Three times three for St. Timothy’s! One—two—three!” +The fellows in the barge +sent up a vigorous, snappy cheer, and then +overflowed at back and sides. In the confusion +and the crowd, Irving was still straining +his short-sighted eyes in a vain attempt to +discover Lawrence.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he heard a shout,—“Hello, Irv!”—and +there, a little way off, was Lawrence, +laughing at him and struggling towards him +through the throng. The boys understood +and drew apart and let the two brothers +meet.</p> + +<p>“It’s great to see you again, Irv,” said +Lawrence, when he could reach and grasp his<a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"></a><span class="pagenum" title="182"></span> +brother’s hand; he looked at Irving with the +same old loving humor in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“It’s great to see you again, Lawrence,” +said Irving. He could not help being a little +conscious and constrained, with so many eyes +upon him.</p> + +<p>He tucked one hand in his brother’s arm +and with the other reached for Lawrence’s +bag. Lawrence laughed, and with hardly an +effort detached it from Irving’s grasp.</p> + +<p>“<em>You</em> carry that, you little fellow! I guess +not,” he said.</p> + +<p>Some of the boys heard and smiled, and +Lawrence threw back at them a humorous +smile; Irving blushed. He led Lawrence away, +towards the Upper School. The other Freshmen +were being conducted in the same direction +by Collingwood and his team.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said Westby to Carroll in an outpouring +of slang from the heart, “Kiddy’s +brother is certainly a peach of a good looker. +I hope he’ll bring him to lunch.”</p> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"></a><span class="pagenum" title="183"></span>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>WESTBY IN THE GAME</h3> + + +<p>It was with satisfaction that Westby and +Carroll saw Lawrence entering the dining-room +with Irving. They had observed the +long table spread in the common room of the +Upper School, where the visiting team were +to be entertained at luncheon, and had supposed +therefore that they would have no +chance of satisfying their curiosity about the +master’s brother.</p> + +<p>When Irving introduced Lawrence to them, +Westby said,—</p> + +<p>“We hoped we were going to see you here, +but we were afraid you might have to eat +outside with your team.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I got special permission from the +captain for this occasion,” said Lawrence. +“I’m afraid I’m depriving somebody of his +seat,” he added to Irving.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a><span class="pagenum" title="184"></span>“It’s Caldwell—I arranged with him about +it. He’s gone to Mr. Randolph’s table.”</p> + +<p>“Besides, he’s only a Fourth Former,” said +Westby.</p> + +<p>Lawrence laughed. “You’re Sixth, I suppose?” +Westby nodded. “Going to Harvard +next year?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Good for you. I’ll tell you one thing; +you couldn’t have a better man to get you in +than this brother of mine—if I do say it. +He tutored me for Harvard—and I guess +you’ve never had a worse blockhead, have +you, Irv?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you were all right in some things, +Lawrence.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to know what. How I used to try +your patience, though!” Lawrence chuckled, +then turned and addressed the boys, especially +Westby and Carroll, as they were the oldest. +“Did any of you ever see him mad?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, surely never that,” said Westby urbanely. +“Irritated perhaps, but not mad—never +lacking in self-control.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"></a><span class="pagenum" title="185"></span>Westby, thinking himself safe, ventured +upon his humorous wink to Blake and the +others who were grinning; Lawrence intercepted +it and at once fixed Westby with a +penetrating gaze.</p> + +<p>Westby colored and looked down; Lawrence +held his eyes on him until Westby looked up +and then, in even greater embarrassment under +this prolonged scrutiny, down again. Then +Lawrence turned to his brother.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Irv,” he said in a tone that simply +brushed aside as non-existent everybody +else at the table—just as if he and his brother +were talking together alone, “what sort of +kids do you have to look after in your dormitory, +anyhow?”</p> + +<p>Irving’s lip twitched with amusement; +Westby, still scarlet, was looking at his plate. +“Oh, a pretty good sort—but they’re Sixth +Formers, you know—not kids.”</p> + +<p>“Pretty fresh, are they—trying to show +off a good deal and be funny?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, one or two only; still, even they +aren’t bad.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"></a><span class="pagenum" title="186"></span>Lawrence paid no further attention to +Westby. Now and then he spoke to Carroll +and to Blake, but most of his conversation—and +it dealt with the sort of college life about +which boys liked to hear, and about which +Irving had never been able to enlighten them—he +addressed directly to his brother.</p> + +<p>Westby listened to it gloomily; there were +many questions that he wanted to ask, but +now he did not dare. Evidently Mr. Upton had +warned his brother against him, had imparted +to his brother his own dislike; that was why +Lawrence had nipped so brutally his harmless, +humorous allusion to the master’s temper.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, Lawrence had had +no previous knowledge whatever of Westby; +Irving had always withstood his impulse to +confide his troubles. He made now an effort +to draw Westby forward and reinstate him in +the conversation; he said,—</p> + +<p>“Lawrence, you and Westby here may come +against each other this afternoon; Westby’s +first substitute for one of the half-backs on +the School eleven.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"></a><span class="pagenum" title="187"></span>Lawrence said, “That’s good,” and gave +Westby hardly a glance.</p> + +<p>After luncheon, walking down to the athletic +field with Westby, Carroll said jeeringly,—</p> + +<p>“Well, Kiddy Upton’s brother is no myth, +is he, Wes?”</p> + +<p>At that Westby began to splutter. “Conceited +chump! He makes me tired. Of all the +fresh things—to sit up there and talk about +the ‘kids’ in Kiddy’s dormitory!”</p> + +<p>Carroll laughed in his silent, irritating way. +“He certainly put you down and out—a good +hard one. Why, even Kiddy was sorry for you.”</p> + +<p>Westby went on fuming. “Sorry for me! +I guess Kiddy had been whining to him about +how I’d worried him. That’s why the chump +had it in for me.”</p> + +<p>“Chump, Wes! Such a peach of a good +looker?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, shut up. I don’t care if he is good +looking; he’s fresher than paint.”</p> + +<p>“He would think that was a queer criticism +for you to make.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"></a><span class="pagenum" title="188"></span>Westby stalked on in angry silence. He +was more wounded than he could let Carroll +know. There was a side to him which he shrank +from displaying,—the gentle, affectionate side +of which Irving had had a glimpse when the +boy was anxiously watching his young cousin +Price in the mile run; and to this quality +Lawrence’s greeting of his brother had unconsciously +appealed. Westby had stood by and +heard his words, “<em>You</em> carry that, you little +fellow!” had seen the humor in his eyes +and the gentleness on his lips, and had felt +something in his own throat.</p> + +<p>For all his affectation of worldliness and cynicism, +the boy was a hero-worshiper at heart, +and could never resist being attracted by a fine +face and a handsome pair of eyes and a pleasant +voice; Lawrence had in the first glance awakened +an enthusiasm which was eager for near +acquaintance. And now, although he talked +so venomously against him, it was not Lawrence +whom he reproached in his heart; it was himself.</p> + +<p>Why had he been unable to resist the im<a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"></a><span class="pagenum" title="189"></span>pulse +to be smart, to be funny, to be cheap? +He might have known that a fellow like Lawrence +would see through his remark and would +resent it; he might have known that his silly, +clownish wink could not escape Lawrence’s +keen eyes.</p> + +<p>So Westby walked on, gloomily reproaching +himself, unconscious that at that very +moment, walking a hundred yards behind, +Irving was defending him.</p> + +<p>“A month ago, Lawrence, I’d have been +glad to have you light on Westby as you did,” +he said. “But now I’m rather sorry.”</p> + +<p>“Why so?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he’s had some hard luck lately, and—well, +I don’t know. Those encounters with +a boy don’t seem to me worth while.”</p> + +<p>“You’ve got to suppress them when they’re +fresh like that,” insisted Lawrence. “For a +fellow to talk to you in that fresh way before +a guest—and that guest your brother—I +don’t stand for it; that’s all.”</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t either. Well, it doesn’t matter +much; reproof slides off Westby like water +off a duck’s back.”<a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"></a><span class="pagenum" title="190"></span></p> + +<p>They talked of other things then until Lawrence +had to join his team and enter the +athletic house with them to dress.</p> + +<p>Out on the field Irving mingled with the +crowd, walked to and fro nervously, stopped +to say only a word now to a boy, now to a +master, and then passed on. It was foolish for +him to be so excited, so tremulous, he told +himself. Lawrence had parted from him with +the same calmness with which he might have +gone to prepare for bed. It was all the more +foolish to be so excited, because the accessories +to promote a preliminary excitement were lacking,—rivalry, +partisanship; the visiting team +had no supporters.</p> + +<p>The School had turned out to see the game, +but there was no cheering, no thrill of expectation; +the boys stood about and waited quietly, +as they would before ordinary practice. It +would be different in another week, when the +St. John’s team were sharing the athletic house +with St. Timothy’s, and the adherents of the +two schools were ranged opposite each other, +waving flags and hurling back and forth chal<a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"></a><span class="pagenum" title="191"></span>lenging +cheers—cheers meant to inspirit the +players while they dressed. But now Irving +was aware that he in all the crowd was the +only one whose nerves and muscles were quivering, +whose voice might not be quite natural +or quite under his control, whose heart was +beating hard.</p> + +<p>If Lawrence should not play well this time—the +first time he had ever seen him play! +Or if anything should happen to him! Irving +tramped back and forth, digging cold hands +into his pockets.</p> + +<p>The Harvard team was the first to leave the +athletic house; they broke through the line of +spectators near where Irving stood and trotted +out on the field. As they passed, he caught +his brother’s eye and waved to him. In the preliminary +practice Irving watched him eagerly; +with his light curly hair he was conspicuous, +and as he was on the end of the line his movements +were easy to follow. It seemed to Irving +that he was the quickest and the readiest and +the handsomest of them all.</p> + +<p>Out came St. Timothy’s, and then there was<a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"></a><span class="pagenum" title="192"></span> +a cheer. The two teams went rollicking and +tumbling up and down the field for a few moments; +then Collingwood and the Harvard +captain met in the centre, Mr. Barclay tossed +a coin, and the players went to their positions. +Mr. Barclay blew a whistle; the game +began.</p> + +<p>From that time on Irving trotted up and +down the side lines, his heart twittering with +pride and anxiety. After every scrimmage, +after every tackle, he looked apprehensively +for a curly light head; he was always glad +when he saw it bob up safely out of a pile. +Through all the press and conflict, he watched +for it, followed it—just as, he thought in one +whimsical moment, the French troopers of Macaulay’s +poem watched for the white plume of +Navarre.</p> + +<p>If he had known even less about the game +than he did, he must still have seen that for +Harvard his brother and Ballard, the fullback, +were playing especially well. Ballard, with his +hard plunges through the centre and his long +punts, was the chief factor in Harvard’s offen<a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"></a><span class="pagenum" title="193"></span>sive +game; Lawrence was their ablest player +on the defense.</p> + +<p>After the first ten minutes St. Timothy’s +made hardly an attempt to go round his end, +but devoted their assaults to the centre and +other wing of the line.</p> + +<p>If there was one thing for which Collingwood, +the best football player in the School, +had achieved a special reputation, it was the +fleetness and dexterity with which he could +run the ball back after punts. He was known +as the best man in the back field that St. +Timothy’s had had in years. So when Ballard +prepared for his first kick, the spectators looked +on with composure.</p> + +<p>It was a fine kick; the ball went spiraling +high and far, but Collingwood was under it as +it fell, and Dennison was in front of him to +protect him.</p> + +<p>Yet Lawrence, rushing down upon them, +was too quick, too clever; Dennison’s attempt +to block him off was only a glancing one that +staggered him for the fraction of an instant; +and the ball had no sooner struck in Colling<a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a><span class="pagenum" title="194"></span>wood’s +arms than Lawrence launched himself +and hurled the runner backwards.</p> + +<p>“Whew! What a fierce tackle!” ejaculated +a boy near Irving admiringly.</p> + +<p>“I think Lou did well to hang on the ball,” +responded his friend.</p> + +<p>Irving heard; he went about greedily drinking +in comments which that tackle had evoked. +He found himself standing behind Westby +and the other substitutes, who, wrapped in +blankets, trailed up and down the field keeping +pace with the progress of their team.</p> + +<p>“No!” Briggs, one of the substitutes, was +saying. “Was that Kiddy Upton’s brother? +He’s a whirlwind, isn’t he?”</p> + +<p>“Looked to me as if he was trying to +lay Lou Collingwood out,” returned Westby +sourly.</p> + +<p>At once Irving’s cheeks flamed hot. He put +out his hand and touched Westby’s shoulder; +the boy turned, and then the blood rushed +into his cheeks too.</p> + +<p>“Was there anything wrong about that +tackle, Westby?” Irving asked.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"></a><span class="pagenum" title="195"></span>“It just seemed to me he threw him pretty +hard.”</p> + +<p>Irving spoke to the three or four other substitutes +standing by.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know much about football; was +there anything wrong with that tackle—that +it should be criticised?”</p> + +<p>“It looked all right to me,” said Briggs.</p> + +<p>“If there is any question about it, I shall +want to talk to my brother—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it was all right,” Windom spoke up. +“It was a good, clean, hard tackle—the right +kind. Wes is always down on the enemy, +aren’t you, Wes?”</p> + +<p>Westby stood in sullen silence. The next +play was started; St. Timothy’s gained five +yards, and in the movement of the crowd Irving +and Westby were separated.</p> + +<p>For a few moments Irving’s thoughts were +diverted from his brother, and his joyous +excitement was overshadowed by regret. He +felt less indignant with Westby than sorry +for him; he knew that the boy had repented +of his hasty and intemperate words. If he<a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"></a><span class="pagenum" title="196"></span> +would only come up and acknowledge it—so +that he might be forgiven!</p> + +<p>Then Irving put Westby out of his mind. +St. Timothy’s had kicked; Ballard had recovered +the ball for Harvard on St. Timothy’s +forty-yard line, and then Warren, the quarterback, +had made a long pass straight into Lawrence’s +hands; Lawrence started to run; then, +just as Chase and Baldersnaith were bearing +down for the tackle, he stopped and hurled the +ball forward and across to Newell, the other +Harvard end.</p> + +<p>It sailed clear over the heads of the intervening +players; Newell had been signaled to, +had got down the field and was ready for it; +three St. Timothy’s players ran to get under +the ball, but instead of blocking Newell off +and merely trying to spoil his catch, they all +tried to make the catch themselves; they all +leaped for it. Newell was the quickest; he +grabbed the ball out of the air and went down +instantly, with the three others on him—but +he was on St. Timothy’s ten-yard line.</p> + +<p>It was a brilliant pass and a brilliant catch;<a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"></a><span class="pagenum" title="197"></span> +St. Timothy’s stood looking on disconsolate, +while the Harvard players gathered exultantly +for the line-up. Three rushes through tackle +and centre and one run round Lawrence’s end +carried the ball across St. Timothy’s line for a +touchdown. Ballard kicked the goal.</p> + +<p>There was no more scoring that half. In +the second half St. Timothy’s kicked off; Harvard +got the ball and set about rushing it +back up the field. They had gained ten yards +and had carried the ball forty yards from their +own goal, when they lost possession of it on a +fumble. The spectators cheered, and began +shouting,—</p> + +<p>“Touchdown, St. Timothy’s, touchdown!”</p> + +<p>There was more shouting when, with Collingwood +interfering for him, Dennison broke +through the Harvard left tackle and made +fifteen yards. Then Collingwood made a quarter-back +kick which Morrill captured on the +Harvard five-yard line.</p> + +<p>The St. Timothy’s cheering broke out afresh, +Scarborough leading it. Irving joined in the +cheer; he was glad to see Collingwood and the<a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"></a><span class="pagenum" title="198"></span> +others making gains—provided they did not +make them round Lawrence’s end.</p> + +<p>On the five-yard line the Harvard defense +stiffened. On the third down the ball was two +yards from the goal line.</p> + +<p>“Everybody get into this next play—everybody!” +cried Collingwood appealingly; he +went about slapping his men on the back. +“Now then—twelve, thirty-seven, eighteen.”</p> + +<p>There was a surge forward, a quivering, +toppling mass that finally fell indecisively. +No one knew whether the ball had been pushed +across or not. No one wanted to get up for +fear it might be pushed one way or the other +in the shifting.</p> + +<p>Barclay and Randolph, who was umpire, +began summarily dragging the players from +the pile, hauling at an arm or a leg; at last +Dennison was revealed at the bottom hugging +the ball—and it was just across the line.</p> + +<p>Then all the St. Timothy’s players capered +about for joy, and the spectators shouted as +triumphantly as if it had been the St. John’s +game; the Harvard team ranged themselves<a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a><span class="pagenum" title="199"></span> +quietly under the goal. Dennison kicked the +goal, and the score was tied.</p> + +<p>For the next ten minutes neither team succeeded +in making much progress. St. Timothy’s +were playing more aggressively than in the +first half; twice Kenyon, the Harvard halfback, +started to skirt round Lawrence’s end, +but both times Baldersnaith, the St. Timothy’s +tackle, broke through and dragged him down. +Baldersnaith, Dennison, Morrill, and Collingwood +were especially distinguishing themselves +for the School.</p> + +<p>At last, after one of the scrimmages, Dennison +got up, hobbled a moment, and then sat +down again. Collingwood hurried over to him +anxiously.</p> + +<p>“Wrenched my ankle,” said Dennison. “I +guess I’ll be all right in a moment.”</p> + +<p>Waring, the Fifth Former, who acted as +water-carrier, ran out on the field with his pail +and sponge. Mr. Barclay examined the ankle, +then turned to Collingwood.</p> + +<p>“I think he could go on playing,” he said. +“But if I were you I’d take him out now and<a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"></a><span class="pagenum" title="200"></span> +save him for the St. John’s game. You don’t +want to risk his being laid up for that.”</p> + +<p>Dennison protested, but Collingwood agreed +with Mr. Barclay. He turned and called, +“Westby”; and as Westby ran out, Dennison +picked himself up and limped to the side-line.</p> + +<p>It was Harvard’s ball in the middle of the +field. Though it was only the first down, Ballard +dropped back to kick.</p> + +<p>“Now then, Wes, hang on to it,” Collingwood +cried as he and Westby turned and ran +to their places in the back field.</p> + +<p>Westby had a faint hope that the kick +might go to Collingwood; he didn’t feel +quite ready yet to catch the ball; he wanted to +be given a chance to steady down first. But +he knew that was exactly what the Harvard +quarterback intended to prevent.</p> + +<p>The ball came sailing, high and twisting; +he had to run back to get under it. Then he +planted himself, but the ball as it came down +was slanted off by the wind, so that he had +at the last to make a sudden dash for it; it +struck and stuck, hugged to his breast, and<a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"></a><span class="pagenum" title="201"></span> +then over he went with a terrific shock, which +jarred the ball from his grasp.</p> + +<p>Irving had seen the play with mingled joy +and sorrow. It was his brother who had made +the tackle; it was Newell, the other Harvard +end, who had dropped on the fumbled ball.</p> + +<p>Westby and Lawrence got to their feet together; +Lawrence’s eyes were dancing with +triumphant expectation; the ball was Harvard’s +now on St. Timothy’s twenty-yard line. And +Westby went dully to his position, aware of +the accusing silence of the crowd.</p> + +<p>“All right, Wes; we’ll stop them,” Collingwood +said to him cheerfully.</p> + +<p>Westby did his best and flung himself desperately +into the thick of every scrimmage. +The whole team did its best, but Harvard +would not be denied. By short rushes they +fought their way down, down, and at last +across the goal line—and the game was won. +There were only three minutes left to play, +and in that time neither side scored.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Barclay blew his whistle, the +Harvard team assembled and cheered St.<a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"></a><span class="pagenum" title="202"></span> +Timothy’s, and then St. Timothy’s assembled +and cheered Harvard. After that the players +walked to the athletic house, beset on the way +by the curious or by friends.</p> + +<p>Westby was the victim of condolences, well +meant but ill-timed; he responded curtly when +Blake, pushing near, said to him, “It was +awfully hard luck, Wes—but after that you +played a mighty good game.” He wished +nothing but to be let alone, he wished no +sympathy. He knew that he had lost the game; +that was enough for him.</p> + +<p>In the dressing-room he sat on a bench next +to Lawrence Upton and began putting on his +clothes in silence. The other boys were talking +all round him, commenting cheerfully on +the plays and on the future prospects of the +teams.</p> + +<p>Lawrence refrained from discussing the +game at all; he asked Westby what St. +Timothy’s boys he knew at Harvard, and +where he expected to room when he went +there; he tried to be friendly. But Westby +repelled his efforts, answering in a sullen<a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"></a><span class="pagenum" title="203"></span> +voice. At last Lawrence finished dressing; he +picked up his bag and turned to Westby.</p> + +<p>“Look here,” he said, and there was a +twinkle in his eyes. “I’m going to be at +Harvard the next three years; we’re likely +to meet. Must a little hard luck make hard +feeling?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, there’s no hard feeling,” Westby +assured him.</p> + +<p>“Glad to hear it. Good-by.” Lawrence +held out his hand.</p> + +<p>“You’re not going to stay for supper?”</p> + +<p>“No. I’m going back with the team on the +six o’clock train—hour exam on Monday. +My brother’s waiting for me outside; I want +to see him for a while before we start. I hope +to come up here some time again—hope I’ll +see you.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks. I hope so. Good-by.”</p> + +<p>The words were all right, but Westby spoke +them mechanically. It had flashed upon him +that Lawrence would now learn from his +brother the charge that he had so unjustly and +hotly made. And of a sudden he wished he<a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"></a><span class="pagenum" title="204"></span> +could prevent that. He would have been glad +to go to Irving and retract it all and apologize; +anything to keep Lawrence from hearing +of it.</p> + +<p>Why had he been so slow in dressing—why +hadn’t he hurried on his clothes and +gone out ahead of Lawrence and made it all +right with Irving!</p> + +<p>With a wild thought that it might not yet +be too late, he flung on his coat and rushed +from the building—only to see Irving and +Lawrence walking together across the football +field.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<div><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a><span class="toclnk"><a href="#CONTENTS">TOC</a></span></div> +<h2><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"></a><span class="pagenum" title="205"></span>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>MASTER AND BOY</h3> + + +<p>For several days Westby’s unnatural quiet +was attributed to his sensitiveness over +the error which had given the Harvard Freshmen +their victory. It was most noticeable at +Irving’s table; there his bubbling spirits seemed +permanently to have subsided; he wrapped himself +in silence and gloom. His manner towards +Irving was that of haughty displeasure. Carroll +was at a loss to understand it and questioned +him about it one day.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m just tired of him—tired of hearing +his everlasting brag about his brother,” +Westby said sharply.</p> + +<p>“He bragged so little about him once you +wouldn’t believe he had a brother,” replied +Carroll. “I don’t see that he brags much more +about him now.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I see it, and it annoys me,” retorted<a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a><span class="pagenum" title="206"></span> +Westby rudely. “I think I’ll see if I can have +my seat changed. I’d rather sit at Scabby’s +table.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Randolph, however, the head of the +Upper School, refused to grant Westby’s petition.</p> + +<p>“You don’t give any special reason,” he +said. “You have friends at Mr. Upton’s table; +you ought to be contented to stay there. +What’s the matter? Are you having friction +with some one?”</p> + +<p>“I should be better satisfied if I were at +Scarborough’s table,” said Westby.</p> + +<p>“We can’t gratify every individual preference +or whim,” replied Mr. Randolph.</p> + +<p>He asked Irving if he knew of any reason +why Westby should be transferred and told +him that the boy had asked for the change.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s just between him and me,” said +Irving wearily. “We don’t get on.”</p> + +<p>“Then you’d like to have him go, too?”</p> + +<p>“No, I wouldn’t. When he’s his natural +self, I like him. And I haven’t yet given up +the hope that some time we’ll get together.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a><span class="pagenum" title="207"></span>He met Westby’s coldness with coolness. +But on the morning of the St. John’s game, +after breakfast, he drew Westby aside. He +held a letter in his hand.</p> + +<p>“Westby,” he said, “I don’t know that you +will care to hear it, but I have a message for +you from my brother.”</p> + +<p>Westby cast down his eyes and reddened. +“I don’t suppose I shall care to hear it,” he +said with a humility that amazed Irving. “But +go ahead—give it to me, Mr. Upton.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t quite understand—he just asked +me to say to you that he hopes you’ll get your +chance in the game to-day. He felt you were +rather cut up by your hard luck in the Freshman +game.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t he—isn’t he—” Westby hesitated +for an uncomfortable moment, then +blurted out, “Isn’t he sore at me, Mr. Upton?”</p> + +<p>“What for?”</p> + +<p>“For saying about him what I did—about +his trying to lay Collingwood out when he +tackled.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a><span class="pagenum" title="208"></span>“He doesn’t know you said it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Didn’t you tell him?”</p> + +<p>“No. The criticism was unjust—there was +no use in repeating it.”</p> + +<p>“It was unjust.” Westby had lowered his +voice. “I am very much ashamed, Mr. Upton.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right,” said Irving. He took +Westby’s hand. “I hope too you’ll get your +chance in the game.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you.” Westby spoke humbly. “I +hope if I do, I won’t make a mess of it again.”</p> + +<p>That game was far different in color and feeling +from the one with the Freshmen on the +Saturday before. Long before it began the +boys of St. John’s with their blue banners and +flags and the boys of St. Timothy’s with their +red were ranged on opposite sides of the field, +hurling defiant, challenging cheers across at one +another; for St. Timothy’s a band, in which +Scarborough beat the drum and was director, +paraded back and forth; the little boys were +already hopping up and down and trembling +and squealing with excitement; already their +little voices were almost gone.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"></a><span class="pagenum" title="209"></span>Irving knew that to himself alone was this +occasion one of less moving interest than that +of the preceding Saturday; as he stood and +looked on at the waving red and the waving +blue and later at the struggle that was being +waged in the middle of the field, he wondered +how on this afternoon that other game between +the red and the blue was going, and +how Lawrence was acquitting himself.</p> + +<p>Certainly it could not, he thought, be any +more close, more hotly contested, than this of +the two rival schools. All through the first +half they fought each other without scoring.</p> + +<p>Once St. Timothy’s had got down to St. +John’s fifteen-yard line, but then had been +unable to go farther, and Dennison had missed +by only a few feet his try for a goal from the +field.</p> + +<p>Early in the second half St. Timothy’s met +with misfortune. Dennison was laid out by a +hard tackle; when at last he got to his feet, +he limped badly. Louis Collingwood took +him by the arm and walked round with him;<a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"></a><span class="pagenum" title="210"></span> +Dennison was arguing, protesting. But Collingwood +led him towards the side-line, patting +him on the back, and called “Westby!”</p> + +<p>The spectators cheered the injured player +who came off so reluctantly; then they cheered +Westby as he ran out upon the field. Irving +was near the group of substitutes when Dennison +hobbled in.</p> + +<p>“Hurt much, Denny?” asked Briggs.</p> + +<p>“No—just that same old ankle—hang it +all!” Dennison slipped into a blanket and +lowered himself painfully to the ground.</p> + +<p>Irving’s eyes were upon Westby; he hoped +that this time the boy would not fail. Westby +had an opportunity now to steady his nerves; +it was St. Timothy’s ball and only the first +down. Collingwood gave the signal; Irving +watched closely, saw Westby take the ball on +the pass and dive into the line. In a moment +all the St. Timothy’s eleven seemed to be behind +him, hurling him through, and St. Timothy’s +on the side-lines waved and shouted, for +Westby had gained five yards.</p> + +<p>Collingwood called on him again; he gained<a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"></a><span class="pagenum" title="211"></span> +three yards more. Irving shouted with the rest; +he turned to Mr. Randolph and said,—</p> + +<p>“That ought to give Westby confidence.”</p> + +<p>“I hope it does; he’s so erratic,” Mr. Randolph +answered. “If only he’s starting in now +on one of his brilliant streaks!”</p> + +<p>Lane, the Fifth Form halfback, tried to go +round the end on the next play, but made no +gain. Then Westby was driven again at left +tackle, but he got only two yards.</p> + +<p>Collingwood gave the signal for a criss-cross; +Lane took the ball, and passed it to Westby, +who was already on the run. Westby got clear +of the St. John’s end, and seemed well started +for a brilliant run; but their halfback chased +him across the field and finally, by a tremendous +diving tackle, pulled him down. As it was, +Westby had made so much of a gain that the +distance had to be measured; he had failed by +only a few inches to make the required amount, +and the ball went to St. John’s on their thirty-five-yard +line.</p> + +<p>St. John’s made two ineffectual rushes; +then their fullback, Warner, prepared to kick.<a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"></a><span class="pagenum" title="212"></span> +Westby and Collingwood raced to their places +in the back field.</p> + +<p>There was a tense moment on both sides; +then Warner sent the ball flying high and far. +It was Westby’s ball; the St. John’s ends and +one of their tackles came down fast under the +kick.</p> + +<p>Irving, with his heart in his throat, watched +Westby; the boy, with both hands raised, was +wabbling about, stepping to the right, to the left, +backward, forward; the ends were there in +front of him, crouched and waiting; Collingwood +tried to fend them off, but the big tackle +rushed in and upset him, and at the same instant +the ball fell into Westby’s arms—and +slipped through them.</p> + +<p>One of the ends dropped on the ball, rolled +over with it a couple of times, rolled up on his +feet again and was off with it for the St. Timothy’s +goal; he had carried it to the twenty-yard +line when Collingwood pulled him down. +St. John’s were streaming down their side line, +shrieking and waving their blue flags; St. Timothy’s +stood dazed and silent.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"></a><span class="pagenum" title="213"></span>“Oh, butterfingers!” cried Briggs, stamping +his foot.</p> + +<p>“Just like Wes—he wouldn’t make a football +player in a thousand years!” exclaimed +Windom.</p> + +<p>Irving heard the comments; he heard other +comments. If St. John’s should score now! +He hoped they wouldn’t; he was sorry enough +for Westby. But St. John’s did score, by a +series of furious centre rushes, and their fullback +kicked the goal. And when, fifteen +minutes later, the referee blew his whistle, the +game was St. John’s, by that score of six to +nothing.</p> + +<p>Irving could understand why some of the St. +Timothy’s boys had tears in their eyes. It was +pretty trying even for him to see the triumphant +visitors rush upon the field, toss the members +of their team upon their shoulders, and +bear them away exultantly to the athletic +house, yelling and flaunting their flags, while +the St. Timothy’s players walked disconsolately +and silently behind them.</p> + +<p>It was trying afterwards to stand by and see<a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a><span class="pagenum" title="214"></span> +those blue-bedecked invaders form into long-linked +lines and dance their serpentine of victory +on St. Timothy’s ground. It was trying +to stand by and watch barge after barge bedecked +with blue roll away while the occupants +shouted and waved their hats—and left the +field to silence and despair.</p> + +<p>But still St. Timothy’s did not abandon the +scene of their defeat. They waited loyally in +front of the athletic house to welcome and console +their team when it should emerge. Collingwood +led the players out, and the crowd +gave them a good one.</p> + +<p>Collingwood said, with a smile, though in an +unsteady voice, “Much obliged, fellows,” and +waved his hand.</p> + +<p>Then the crowd dispersed; slowly they all +walked away.</p> + +<p>That evening, as Irving was about to leave +his room to go down to supper, a boy brought +him a telegram. It was from his brother; it +said,—</p> + +<p>“We licked them, twelve to six. Feeling +fine. Lawrence.”<a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a><span class="pagenum" title="215"></span></p> + +<p>At the table Irving tried not to appear too +happy. He apologized for his state of mind +and told the boys the cause; those who, like +Carroll, were Harvard sympathizers derived a +little cheer from the news, and the others +seemed indifferent to it. Westby was not there. +The training table was vacant, and at the other +tables were empty chairs where substitutes on +the team had sat. Mrs. Barclay was entertaining +the football players.</p> + +<p>“I wish I was breaking training there,” said +Carroll to Irving; “she has the most wonderful +food.”</p> + +<p>In the discussion of the game there seemed +to be little disposition to blame Westby.</p> + +<p>“After all,” said Blake, “he was only a sub, +and he never got so very much practice in +handling punts. I don’t think fellows ought +to be sore on him.”</p> + +<p>“No, he’s just sore on himself,” said Carroll.</p> + +<p>“It’s hard luck, anyhow; except for that +one thing he played mighty well.”</p> + +<p>The mail boy passed, leaving a letter for<a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a><span class="pagenum" title="216"></span> +Irving. It was in his uncle’s handwriting; and +his uncle never wrote to him; it was his aunt +who kept him posted on all the news of home. +Did this mean that she was ill—or that some +disaster had befallen?</p> + +<p>Irving determined that if it was bad news, +he would reserve it until he should be alone; +he put the letter in his pocket and waited +anxiously for the meal to end.</p> + +<p>When he was again in his room, he tore +open the envelope and read this letter:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dear Irving</span>,—I have not helped you and +Lawrence much financially. I thought it would +do you and him no harm to try out your own +resources. But I always meant to give you a +lift whenever it should seem wise, and whenever +a lift could be most advantageously arranged.</p> + +<p>Your father was never able to lay up any +money; his work was of a kind that did not +permit that. But he would always have shared +with me whatever he had. I have had it in +mind to do the same by his children. I have<a name="Page_217" id="Page_217"></a><span class="pagenum" title="217"></span> +sold half the farm—the western half—your +half and Lawrence’s. There is four thousand +dollars in cash for each of you, and four +thousand on a mortgage for each of you at six +per cent. You had better draw out of school-teaching +as soon as possible and study law—if +that is still what you most want to do.</p> + +<p>Your aunt is well and sends her love. We +are both looking forward to seeing you and +Lawrence at Christmas.</p> + +<p>Your affectionate uncle,</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Robert Upton.</span></p></div> + +<p>A flood of warm emotion poured through +Irving; his eyes filled. He had sometimes +thought his uncle selfish and narrow—and +all the time he had been working towards +this!</p> + +<p>Irving wrote his reply; he wrote also to +Lawrence. Then he took his letters down to the +Study building, to post them so that they might +go out with the night mail. On his way he +passed the Barclay house; it was all brightly +lighted, the sound of laughter and of gay boy<a name="Page_218" id="Page_218"></a><span class="pagenum" title="218"></span> +voices rang out through the open windows; +the notes of a piano then subdued them, and +there burst out a chorus in the sonorous measured +sweep of “Wacht am Rhein.”</p> + +<p>Irving stood for a few moments and listened; +his exultant heart was responsive to that shouted +song. Fellows who could sing like that, he +thought, must have trodden disappointment +under heel.</p> + +<p>An hour later, when Irving sat in his room, +the boys who had been entertained at the +Barclays’ came tramping up the stairs. They +were still singing, but they stopped their song +before they entered the dormitory. Irving met +them to say good-night—first Dennison and +then Morrill and then Louis Collingwood.</p> + +<p>“Have you heard the new song Wes has +got off, Mr. Upton?” asked Dennison.</p> + +<p>“No, what’s that?”</p> + +<p>“Hit it up, Wes.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, choke it off.” Collingwood grinned +uneasily.</p> + +<p>“Go on, Wes,—strike up. We’ll all join +in.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219"></a><span class="pagenum" title="219"></span>“Wait till I get my banjo—you don’t +mind, do you, Mr. Upton?”</p> + +<p>“No. I’d like to hear it.”</p> + +<p>So Westby hastened to his room and returned, +bearing the instrument; and all the +other boys gathered round, except Collingwood, +who stood sheepishly off at one side. +Westby twanged the strings and then to the +accompaniment began,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Across the broad prairies he came from the west,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fire in his eye and with brawn on his chest;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arms they were strong and his legs they were fleet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There was none could outstrip his vanishing feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We made him our captain—what else could we do?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You ask who he is? Do I hear you say, ‘Who?’”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Then they all came in on the chorus:—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“He is our Lou, he is our honey-Lou,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is our pride and joy;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is our Loo-loo, he is our Loo-loo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He is our Lou-Lou boy.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>“Silly song!” exclaimed Collingwood with +disgust.</p> + +<p>“Wes made it up just this evening, at Mrs. +Barclay’s,” said Dennison. “We were all sing<a name="Page_220" id="Page_220"></a><span class="pagenum" title="220"></span>ing, +and after a while Wes edged in to the +piano and sprung this on us. Don’t you think +it’s a good song?”</p> + +<p>“So good that I wish I could furnish inspiration +for another,” said Irving.</p> + +<p>Westby joined in the laugh and looked +pleased.</p> + +<p>“Good-night, everybody,” said Collingwood; +he walked away to his room. The others followed, +all except Westby, to whom Irving +said,—</p> + +<p>“Will you wait a moment? I should like to +have a little talk with you.” He led the boy +into his room and pushed forward his armchair.</p> + +<p>Westby seated himself with his banjo across +his knees and looked at Irving wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“The fellows seem pretty cheerful after their +defeat, don’t they?” said Irving.</p> + +<p>A shadow crossed Westby’s face. “They’ve +been very decent about it,” he answered.</p> + +<p>Irving put his hand on Westby’s arm.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 423px;"><a name="Page_220f" id="Page_220f"></a><span class="pagenum" title="Facing 220"></span> +<img src="images/220.jpg" width="423" height="645" alt="[Illustration: A SHADOW CROSSED WESTBY’S FACE]" title="A SHADOW CROSSED WESTBY'S FACE" /> +<span>A SHADOW CROSSED WESTBY’S FACE</span> +</div> + +<p>“Do you know why they’re so decent? +It’s because you’ve cheered them up yourself. +<a name="Page_221" id="Page_221"></a><span class="pagenum" title="221"></span>Who was the fellow, Westby, that said he +didn’t care who might make his country’s +laws if only he might write its songs?”</p> + +<p>“Oh—no—that’s got nothing to do with +me.”</p> + +<p>“You needn’t care who makes the touchdowns. +Your job is to do something else. It’s +no discredit to you if because of lack of training +or adaptability, you can’t hang on to a +ball at a critical moment. There are plenty of +fellows who can do that.—I suppose you don’t +see it yet yourself—but you know the message +my brother sent you? I shall tell him +that you got your chance to-day—and took +it.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see how.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know how you managed it +exactly. But I could see when those fellows +came upstairs just now that you stood better +with them than you ever had done before. It +must have been because you showed the right +spirit—and I know by experience, Westby, +that it’s awfully hard to show the right spirit +when you’re down.”</p> + +<p><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222"></a><span class="pagenum" title="222"></span>There was silence for a few moments.</p> + +<p>“I guess I’ve made it hard for you,” said +Westby at last, in a low voice. “You’re different +from what I thought you were.”</p> + +<p>Irving’s low laugh of exultation sprang +from the heart. “Maybe I am—and maybe +you were right about me, too. A fellow changes. +A month ago, I was wondering what use there +could ever be in my studying law—trying to +practise, mixing with men—when I couldn’t +hold my own with a handful of boys. For +some reason, I don’t feel that way any longer.—Well, +that’s about all I wanted to say to +you, Westby.” He stood up. “Good-night.”</p> + +<p>Westby rose and shook hands. “Good-night, +sir.”</p> + +<p>He passed out and quietly closed the door. +Irving stood at the window, gazing beyond +the shadowy trees to the dim silver line of the +pond, touched now by the moonlight. There +was a knock on the door.</p> + +<p>“Come in,” Irving called.</p> + +<p>It was Westby again.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Upton,” he said, “I meant to tell<a name="Page_223" id="Page_223"></a><span class="pagenum" title="223"></span> +you—I heard at Mr. Barclay’s how the Freshman +game came out; I wish, if you would, +you’d send your brother my congratulations.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, I will.”</p> + +<p>“Good-night, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Good-night.”</p> + +<p>The door closed softly. Irving turned again +and pressed his forehead against the window-pane +with a smile. It was a smile not merely +of satisfaction because he had won his way at +last, though he was not indifferent to that; +he was happy too because this night he felt he +had come close to Westby.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Jester of St. Timothy's, by +Arthur Stanwood Pier + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER OF ST. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Jester of St. Timothy's + +Author: Arthur Stanwood Pier + +Release Date: January 16, 2006 [EBook #17535] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER OF ST. TIMOTHY'S *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Niehof, Suzanne Shell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +OFFICERS OF THE NATIONAL COUNCIL. + +Honorary President, THE HON. WOODROW WILSON +Honorary Vice-President, HON. WILLIAM H. TAFT +Honorary Vice-President, COLONEL THEODORE ROOSEVELT +President, COLIN H. LIVINGSTONE, Washington, D. C. +Vice-President, B. L. DULANEY, Bristol, Tenn. + +Vice-President, MILTON A. McRAE, Detroit, Mich. +Vice-President, DAVID STARK JORDAN, Stanford University, Cal. +Vice-President, F. L. SEELY, Asheville, N. C. +Vice-President, A. STAMFORD WHITE, Chicago, Ill. +Chief Scout, ERNEST THOMPSON SETON, Greenwich, Connecticut +National Scout Commissioner, DANIEL CARTER BEARD, Flushing, N. Y. + + +NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS +BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA + +THE FIFTH AVENUE BUILDING, 200 FIFTH AVENUE +TELEPHONE GRAMERCY 546 +NEW YORK CITY + + +FINANCE COMMITTEE +John Sherman Hoyt, + Chairman +August Belmont +George D. Pratt +Mortimer L. Schiff +H. Rogers Winthrop + + +GEORGE D. PRATT, + Treasurer +JAMES E. WEST, + Chief Scout Executive + + +ADDITIONAL MEMBERS OF THE EXECUTIVE BOARD + +Ernest P. Bidwell +Robert Garrett +Lee F. Hanmer +John Sherman Hoyt +Charles C. Jackson + +Prof. Jeremiah W. Jenks +William D. Murray +Dr. Charles P. Neill +George D. Porter +Frank Presbrey + +Edgar M. Robinson +Mortimer L. Schiff +Lorillard Spencer +Seth Sprague Terry + +July 31st, 1913. + +TO THE PUBLIC:-- + +In the execution of its purpose to give educational value and moral +worth to the recreational activities of the boyhood of America, the +leaders of the Boy Scout Movement quickly learned that to effectively +carry out its program, the boy must be influenced not only in his +out-of-door life but also in the diversions of his other leisure +moments. It is at such times that the boy is captured by the tales of +daring enterprises and adventurous good times. What now is needful is +not that his taste should be thwarted but trained. There should +constantly be presented to him the books the boy likes best, yet always +the books that will be best for the boy. As a matter of fact, however, +the boy's taste is being constantly vitiated and exploited by the great +mass of cheap juvenile literature. + +[Footer: "DO A GOOD TURN DAILY." "over"] + +To help anxiously concerned parents and educators to meet this grave +peril, the Library Commission of the Boy Scouts of America has been +organised. EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY is the result of their labors. All the +books chosen have been approved by them. The Commission is composed of +the following members: George F. Bowerman, Librarian, Public Library of +the District of Columbia, Washington, D. C.; Harrison W. Graver, +Librarian, Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, Pa.; Claude G. Leland, +Superintendent, Bureau of Libraries, Board of Education, New York City; +Edward F. Stevens, Librarian, Pratt Institute Free Library, Brooklyn, +New York; together with the Editorial Board of our Movement, William D. +Murray, George D. Pratt and Frank Presbrey, with Franklin K. Mathiews, +Chief Scout Librarian, as Secretary. + +In selecting the books, the Commission has chosen only such as are of +interest to boys, the first twenty-five being either works of fiction or +stirring stories of adventurous experiences. In later lists, books of a +more serious sort will be included. It is hoped that as many as +twenty-five may be added to the Library each year. + +Thanks are due the several publishers who have helped to inaugurate this +new department of our work. Without their co-operation in making +available for popular priced editions some of the best books ever +published for boys, the promotion of EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY would have been +impossible. + +We wish, too, to express our heartiest gratitude to the Library +Commission, who, without compensation, have placed their vast experience +and immense resources at the service of our Movement. + +The Commission invites suggestions as to future books to be included in +the Library. Librarians, teachers, parents, and all others interested in +welfare work for boys, can render a unique service by forwarding to +National Headquarters lists of such books as in their judgment would be +suitable for EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY. + +Signed + +[Signature: James E. West] + +Chief Scout Executive. + + + + +[Illustration: LAWRENCE LAUNCHED HIMSELF AND HURLED THE RUNNER BACKWARD +(p. 194)] + + + +EVERY BOY'S LIBRARY--BOY SCOUT EDITION + +THE JESTER OF +ST. TIMOTHY'S + +By +ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER + +AUTHOR OF +BOYS OF ST. TIMOTHY'S, +HARDING OF ST. TIMOTHY'S. ETC. + +ILLUSTRATED + +NEW YORK +GROSSET & DUNLAP +PUBLISHERS +COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY ARTHUR STANWOOD PIER + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +_Published September 1911_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. Irving sets forth on his Adventure 1 + + II. He achieves a Name for Himself 26 + + III. Westby's Amusements 53 + + IV. The Baiting of a Master 75 + + V. Master turns Pupil 96 + + VI. The Penalty for a Foul 120 + + VII. The Worm begins to turn 142 + +VIII. The Harvard Freshman 166 + + IX. Westby in the Game 183 + + X. Master and Boy 205 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +Lawrence launched himself and hurled the +runner backward (p. 194) _Frontispiece_ + +The canoes swung about and made for Each Other 52 + +As to who had won, Irving had not the Slightest Idea 140 + +A Shadow crossed Westby's Face 220 + +_From drawings by B. L. Bates_ + + + + +THE JESTER OF ST. TIMOTHY'S + + + + +CHAPTER I + +IRVING SETS FORTH ON HIS ADVENTURE + + +In the post-office of Beasley's general store Irving Upton was eagerly +sorting the mail. His eagerness at that task had not been abated by the +repeated, the daily disappointments which it had caused him. During the +whole summer month for which he had now been in attendance as Mr. +Beasley's clerk, the arrival of the mail had constituted his chief +interest. And because that for which he had been hoping had failed to +come, his thin face had grown more worried, and the brooding look was +more constantly in his eyes. + +This afternoon his hand paused; he looked at the superscription on an +envelope unbelievingly. The letter came from St. Timothy's School and +was addressed to him. He finished distributing the other letters among +the boxes, for people were waiting outside the partition; then he opened +the envelope and read the type-written enclosure. A flush crept up over +his cheeks, over his forehead; when he raised his eyes, the brooding +look was no longer in them, but a quiet happiness instead, and his lips, +which had so long been troubled, were smoothed out in a faint, contented +smile. He read the letter a second time, then put it in his pocket, and +stepped round behind the counter to sell five cents' worth of pink +gumdrops to little Abby Lawson. + +When she had gone and the callers after mail had been satisfied, Irving +sat down at the table in the back of the store. He read the letter again +and mused over it for a few moments contentedly; then, with it lying +open before him, he proceeded to write an answer. + +After finishing that, he drew from his pocket some papers--French +exercises, done in a scrawling, unformed hand. + +It was the noon hour, when the people of the village were all eating +their dinners; Mr. Beasley had gone home, and Irving was undisturbed. +He helped himself to the crackers and dried beef which were his luncheon +perquisites, and with these at his elbow and nibbling them from time to +time he set about correcting his brother's French. + +He sighed in spite of the happiness which was pervading him; would +Lawrence always go on confusing some of the forms of _etre_ and _avoir_? +Would he never learn to know the difference between _ils ont_ and _ils +sont_? + +Irving made his corrections in a neat, pretty little hand, which of +itself seemed to reprove the student's awkward scrawl. He turned then to +his own studies, which he was pursuing in a tattered volume of +Blackstone's Commentaries on the English Common Law. He did not get on +very fast with this book, and sometimes he wondered what bearing it +could have on the practice of the law in Ohio at the present time. But +he had been advised to familiarize himself with the work in the interval +before he should enter a law school--an interval of such doubtful +length! + +Mr. Beasley's entrance caused him to look up. + +"I shall be leaving you in less than a month now, Mr. Beasley," he said. + +"Got a job to teach, have you?" asked the storekeeper. + +"Yes--at St. Timothy's School." + +"Where may that be?" + +"Up in New Hampshire." + +"Quite a ways off. But I suppose you don't mind that much--having been +away to college." + +"No, I think I'll like it. Besides,--now Lawrence will be able to go to +college this fall, and he and I will be pretty near each other. We'll be +able to spend our holidays together. I think it's fine." + +"It does sound so," agreed Mr. Beasley. "Well, I'll be sorry to lose +you, Irving. The folks all like to have you wait on 'em; you're so +polite and tidy. But I know clerking in a country store ain't much of a +job for a college graduate, and I'm glad you've found something better." + +"I'm glad if I've been of any use to you," replied Irving. "I know you +didn't expect I would be when you took me in. And your giving me this +chance has meant that I could stay on here and tutor Lawrence this +summer and at the same time pay all my living expenses. It's been more +of a help than you know--to Lawrence as well as to me." + +"You're both good boys," said Mr. Beasley. "But it seems like you're too +shy and quiet ever to make much of a lawyer, Irving--or a teacher," he +added, in candid criticism. + +Irving blushed. "Maybe I'll get over that in time, Mr. Beasley." + +"You had better," observed the storekeeper. "It's of no manner of use to +anybody--not a particle. Lawrence, now, is different." + +Yes, Lawrence was different; the fact impressed itself that evening on +Irving when his brother came home from the haying field with his uncle. +Lawrence was big and ruddy and laughing; Irving was slight and delicate +and grave. The two boys went together to their room to make themselves +ready for supper. + +"We finished the north meadow to-day," said Lawrence,--"the whole of it. +So don't blame me if I go to sleep over French verbs this evening." + +"I'll tell you something that will wake you up," Irving replied. "I'm +going to teach at St. Timothy's School--in New Hampshire. So your going +to college is sure, and we'll be only a couple of hours apart." + +"Oh, Irv!" In Lawrence's exclamation there was more expressiveness, more +joy, than in all his brother's carefully restrained statement. "Oh, Irv! +Isn't it splendid! I think you're the finest thing--!" Lawrence grasped +Irving's hand and at the same time began thumping him on the back. Then +he opened the door and shouted down the stairs. + +"Uncle Bob! Aunt Ann! Irv has some great news to-night." + +Mrs. Upton put her head out into the hall; she was setting the table and +held a plate of bread. + +"What is it, Irv? Have you--have you had a letter?" + +There was an anxious, almost a regretful note in her voice. + +"Yes," said Irving. "I'll tell you about it when I come down." + +At the supper table he expounded all the details. Like Mr. Beasley, his +uncle and his aunt had never heard of St. Timothy's School. Irving was +able to enlighten them. At college he had become familiar with its +reputation; it was one of the big preparatory schools in which the +position of teacher had seemed to him desirable almost beyond the hope +of attainment. + +He recited the terms which had been offered and which he had accepted: +nine hundred dollars salary the first year, with lodging, board, washing +all provided--so that really it was the equivalent of fourteen or fifteen +hundred dollars a year. And then there would be the three months' +vacation, in which he could prosecute his law studies and earn +additional money. + +"Sounds good," said Mr. Upton. + +"Of course I'm very glad," said Mrs. Upton. "But how we shall miss you +boys! I've got used to having Irving away,--but to be without Lawrence, +too--" + +"Yes," said her husband with a twinkle in his eyes, "we certainly shall +miss Lawrence--especially in haying time. I'm glad you didn't get this +news till most of the hay crop was in. No more farming for you this +year, Lawrence." + +"Why, but there's all the south meadow uncut--" + +"I'll handle that. As long as there was so much doubt as to whether +you'd be able to go to college or not, I felt that you might be making +yourself useful first of all and studying only in the odd moments. Now +it's different; you've got to settle down to hard study and nothing +else. And Irving had better devote himself entirely to you, and leave +Mr. Beasley to struggle along without any college help." + +"I don't believe he'll miss me very much," Irving admitted. "And you're +right, Uncle Bob; I can accomplish a great deal more working with +Lawrence this next month. I ought to be able to get him entered in +regular standing." + +"If I can do that," cried Lawrence, "perhaps I'll be able to earn my way +as Irv did--tutoring and so on--and not have to call on you or him for any +help." + +"What on earth should I do with nine hundred a year?" Irving exclaimed. + +"Save it for your law school fund," said Lawrence. + +Irving shrugged his shoulders grandly. "Oh, I can earn money." + +Lawrence gave him an affectionate push. "Tut!" he said. "Be good to +yourself once in a while." + +It was a happy family that evening. The uncle and the aunt rejoiced in +the good news, even while regretting the separation. + +Mr. Upton, the younger brother of the boys' father, who had been the +village clergyman, shared his brother's tastes; he read good books, he +would travel to hear a celebrated man speak, he had ideas which were not +bounded by his farm. He had encouraged Irving as well as Lawrence to +seek a university education. The two boys were proud, eager to free +themselves from dependence on the uncle and aunt who, after their +father's death, had given them a home. Irving had worked his way through +college, hardly ever asking for help; he had been a capable scholar and +the faculty had found for him backward students in need of tutoring. + +Meanwhile, Mr. Upton had been busily engaged in developing and +increasing his farm; that he was beginning to be prosperous Irving was +aware; that he did not more earnestly insist upon helping his nephews +stimulated their spirit of independence. They knew that they had been +left penniless; Irving sometimes suspected his uncle of parsimony, yet +this was a trait so incongruous with Mr. Upton's genial nature that +Irving never communicated the suspicion to his brother. Irving felt, +too, that his uncle cared less for him than for Lawrence. Well, that +was natural; Irving was humble there. + +When the dean of the college had said that it would be inadvisable for +Lawrence to make a start unless he had at least three hundred dollars at +command, it had seemed to Irving a little narrow on his uncle's part not +to have come forward at once with that sum. Instead he had merely given +Lawrence the opportunity to work harder in the hay-field and so increase +his small bank account. And it had soon become apparent to Irving that +unless he and Lawrence could between them raise the money, they need not +look to their uncle for help beyond that which he was already giving. +Therefore Irving went into Mr. Beasley's store, and hoped daily for the +letter which at last had come. + +Day after day the two brothers worked together. Irving, quick, +impatient, sometimes losing his temper; Lawrence, slow, calm, turning +the edge of the teacher's sarcasm sometimes with a laugh, sometimes with +a quiet appeal. Irving always felt ashamed after these outbreaks and +uneasily conscious that Lawrence conducted himself with greater +dignity. And Lawrence forgot Irving's irritations in gratitude to him +for his help. "It must be a trial to teach such a numskull," Lawrence +thought; and at the end of one particularly hard day he undertook to +console his brother by saying, "Never mind, Irv; it won't be long now +before you have pupils who aren't country bumpkins and don't need to +have things pounded into their heads with an axe." + +It had been a rather savage remark that had called this out; Irving +threw down his book and perching on the arm of his brother's chair, put +his arm around his neck and begged his forgiveness. + +"As if I could ever like to teach anybody else as much as I like to +teach you!" he exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Lawrence; I'll try to keep a +little better grip on myself." + +Sometimes it seemed to Irving odd that Lawrence should be so slow at his +books; Irving did not fail to realize that with the neighbors or with +strangers, in any gathering whatsoever, Lawrence was always quick, +sympathetic, interested; he himself was the one who seemed dull and +immature. + +It had been so with him at college; he had been merely the student of +books. Social life he had had none, and only now, with the difference +between his brother and himself enforcing a clearer vision, had he +become aware of some deficiency in his education. In silence he envied +Lawrence and wished that he too possessed such winning and engaging +traits. + +He realized the contrast with especial keenness on the afternoon when he +and Lawrence began their eastward journey. There was a party assembled +at the station to see them off,--to see Lawrence off, as Irving +reflected, for never on his own previous departures had he occasioned +any such demonstration. + +Lawrence was presented on the platform with various farewell gifts--a +pair of knit slippers from Sally Buxton, who was the prettiest girl in +the valley and who tried to slip them into his hand when no one else was +looking, and blushed when Nora Carson unfeelingly called attention to +her shy attempt; a pair of mittens from old Mrs. Fitch; a pocket comb +and mirror from the Uptons' hired man; a paper bag of doughnuts from +Mrs. Brumby. + +There were no gifts for Irving; indeed, he had never cared or thought +much, one way or the other, about any of these people clustered on the +platform. Only this summer, seeing them so frequently in Mr. Beasley's +store, he had felt the first stirrings of interest in them; now for the +first time he was aware of a wistfulness because they did not care for +him as they did for Lawrence. + +Mr. Beasley came up to him. "So you're off--both of you. Funny thing--I +guess from the looks of you two, if a stranger was to come along, he'd +pick Lawrence out for the teacher and you for the schoolboy. Lawrence +looks as old as you, and handles himself more grown up, somehow." + +"He's bigger," Irving sighed. + +"Yes, 't ain't only that," drawled Mr. Beasley. "Though 't is a pity +you're so spindling; good thing for a teacher to be able to lay on the +switch good and hard when needed." + +"I don't believe they punish with the switch at St. Timothy's." + +"Then I guess they don't learn the boys much. How you going to keep +order among boys if you don't use the switch?" + +At that moment the train came whistling round the bend. Irving caught up +his bag, turned and grasped Mr. Beasley's hand, then plunged into the +crowd which had closed about his brother. His aunt turned and flung her +arms about him and kissed him; his uncle gave him a good-natured pat on +the back and then stooped and said in his ear, "Irv, if you ever get +into trouble,--go to Lawrence." + +There was the merry, kindly twinkle in his eyes, the quizzical, humorous +smile on his lips that made Irving know his uncle meant always, deep in +his heart, to do the right thing. + +In the train he pondered for a few moments that last word of advice, +wondering if it had been sincere. It rather hurt his dignity, to be +referred to his younger brother in that way--and yet it pleased him too; +he was glad to have Lawrence appreciated. + +Irving spent a day in Cambridge, helping his brother to get settled in +the rooms which he himself had occupied for four years. Then he bade +Lawrence good-by and resumed his journey to New Hampshire. + +It was a pleasant September morning when he presented himself, a sallow, +thin-cheeked, narrow-shouldered, bespectacled youth, before Dr. +Davenport, the rector of St. Timothy's School. The sunlight streamed in +through the southern windows of the spacious library, throwing mellow +tints on the bindings of the books which lined the opposite wall from +floor to ceiling. It was all so bright that Irving, who was troubled +with weak eyes, advanced into it blinking; and perhaps that was one +reason for the disappointment which flitted across the rector's face--and +which Irving, who was acutely sensitive, perceived in his blinking +glance. He flushed, aware that somehow his appearance was too timorous. + +But Dr. Davenport chatted with him pleasantly, told him how highly the +college authorities had recommended him, and only laughingly intimated +a surprise at finding him so young-looking. + +"I hope that teaching won't age you prematurely," he added. "You will +probably have some trying times with the boys--we all do. But it oughtn't +to be hard for you--especially as you will be thrown most of all with the +older boys. Mr. Williams, who has had charge of the Sixth Form dormitory +at the Upper School, is ill with typhoid fever and will probably not +come back this term. So I'm going to put you in charge there. You will +have under you twenty fellows, some of them the best in the school. But +just because they are in some ways pretty mature, don't be--don't be +self-effacing." + +"I understand," said Irving. He sat on the edge of his chair, and +crumpled his handkerchief nervously in his hands. And all the time--with +his singular clearness of intuition--he was aware of the doubt and +distrust passing through Dr. Davenport's mind. + +"Don't be afraid of the boys or show embarrassment or discomfort before +them," continued Dr. Davenport, "and on the other hand don't try to +cultivate dignity by being cold and austere. Be natural with them--but +always be the master.--There!" he broke off, smiling, for he saw that +Irving looked worried and seemed to be taking all this as personal +criticism--"that's the talk that I always give to a new master; and now +I'm done. Here is a printed copy of the rules and regulations which I +advise you to study; you must try to familiarize yourself with our +customs before any of the boys arrive. To-morrow the new boys will come, +and you will report for duty at the Gymnasium, where the entrance +examinations will be held. You will find your room in the Sixth Form +dormitory, at the Upper School. I hope you will like the life here, Mr. +Upton--and I wish you every possible success in it." + +The rector gave him an encouraging handshake and another friendly smile. +But Irving departed feeling depressed and afraid. He had seen that the +rector was disappointed in him--in his appearance, in his manner. And +the rector's little speech had given him the clue. Until now, he had not +much considered how large a part of his work would be in the management +and the discipline of the boys; the mere teaching of them was what had +been in his mind, and for that he felt perfectly competent. In college, +that was all that the tutoring, in which he had been so successful, +meant. But, confronted by the necessity of establishing and maintaining +friendly human relations with a lot of strange boys, Irving for the +first time questioned his qualifications, realizing that the rector too +was questioning them. + +He became more cheerful the next day, when the new boys began to arrive +and he found himself at once with work to do. He had mastered pretty +thoroughly the names of the buildings and the geography of the place, +and it was rather pleasant to be able to give information and directions +to those younger and more ignorant than himself. + +It was pleasant, too, to have one mother who was wandering round vaguely +with her small son and to whom he shyly proffered assistance, show such +appreciation of his courtesy and end by appealing to him to keep always +a friendly eye on her little forlorn Walter. As it turned out, Irving +never afterwards came much into contact with the boy, who lived in a +different building and was not in any of his classes; he asked about him +from time to time, and discovered that Walter was a mischievous person, +not troubled by homesickness. + +But most agreeable and reassuring was it to take charge of the +examination-room, where the new boys were undergoing the tests of their +scholarship. Most of them were candidates for the Second, Third, and +Fourth Forms, and their ages ranged from twelve to fifteen; Irving sat +at a desk on the platform and surveyed them while they worked, or +tiptoed down the aisle in response to an appeal from some uplifted hand. + +He had come so recently from examination-rooms where he had been one of +the pupils that this experience exhilarated him; it conferred upon him +an authority that he enjoyed. He liked to be addressed by these +nice-mannered young boys as "sir," and to be recognized by them so +unquestioningly as a person to whom deference must be shown. Altogether +this first day with the new boys inspired him with confidence, and at +the end of it he attacked the pile of examination books +enthusiastically. + +Mr. Barclay aided him in that task; Mr. Barclay was a young master also, +comparatively, though he had had several years' experience. Irving was +attracted to him at once, and was grateful for the way in which he made +suggestions when there was some uncertainty as to how a boy should be +graded. + +Irving liked, too, the genial chuckle which preceded an invitation to +inspect some candidate's egregious blunder; Irving would read and smile +quietly, unaware that Barclay was watching him and wondering how +appreciative he might be of the ludicrous. + +Two nights Irving spent all alone in the Sixth Form dormitory; it amused +him to walk up and down the corridors with the list of those to whom +rooms there had been assigned. "Collingwood, Westby, Scarborough, +Morrill, Anderson, Baldersnaith, Hill"--some of them had occupied these +rooms as Fifth Formers, and Irving had asked Mr. Barclay about them. + +Louis Collingwood was captain of the school football team; Scarborough +was captain of the school crew. + +"Neither of them will give you any trouble," said Barclay. "Scarborough +used to be a cub, but he has developed very much in the last year or +two, and now he and Collingwood are the best-liked fellows in the +school. They have a proper sense of their responsibility as leaders of +the school, and are more likely to help you than to make trouble. +Morrill is their faithful follower, though a little harum-scarum at +times. Westby--" the master hesitated over that name and looked at Irving +with a measuring glance--"Westby is what you might call the school +jester. He's very popular with the boys--not equally so with all the +masters. Personally I'm rather fond of him. He's almost too quick-witted +sometimes." + +That evening Barclay took the new master home to dine with him. Mrs. +Barclay was as cordial and as kind as her husband; Irving began to feel +more than satisfied with his surroundings. + +"Pity you're not married, Upton," Barclay said, half jokingly. "You'd +escape keeping dormitory if you were--which you'll find the meanest of +all possible jobs. And then if your wife's the right kind--the boys have +to be pretty decent to you in order to keep on her good side." + +Mrs. Barclay laughed. "I suppose that's the only reason they're pretty +decent to you, William!--You'll find it easy, Mr. Upton,--for the reason +that they're a pretty decent lot of boys." + +The next day at noon the old boys began to arrive. Irving was coming out +of the auditorium, where he had been correcting the last set of +examination papers, when a barge drew up before the study building and +boys clutching hand-bags tumbled out and hurried into the building to +greet the rector. + +Irving stood for a few moments looking on with interest: other barges +kept coming over the hill, interspersed with carriages, in which a few +arrived more magnificently. + +It occurred to Irving that perhaps he had better hasten to his dormitory +in order to be on hand when his charges should begin to appear; he was +just starting away when three boys arm in arm rushed out of the study +building. They came prancing up to him, all smiles and twinkles; they +were boys of seventeen or eighteen. They confronted him, blocking his +path; and the one in the middle, a slim, straight fellow in a blue suit, +said,-- + +"Hello, new kid! What name?" + +A blush of embarrassment mounted in Irving's cheeks; feeling it, he +conceived it all the more advisable to assert his dignity. So he said +without a smile, in a constrained voice,-- + +"I am not a new kid. I am a master." + +The three boys who had been beaming on him with good humor in their +eyes stared blankly. Then the one in the middle, with a sudden whoop of +laughter, swung the two others round and led them off at a run; and as +they went, their delighted laughter floated back to Irving's ears. + +His cheeks were tingling, almost as if they had been slapped. He +followed the boys at a distance; they moved towards the Upper School. +His heart sank; what if they were in his dormitory? + +He entered the building just as the last of the three was going up the +Sixth Form dormitory stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +HE ACHIEVES A NAME FOR HIMSELF + + +At the foot of the staircase Irving hesitated until the sound of the +voices and footsteps had ceased. The three boys had not seen him when he +had entered; he was wondering whether he had better be courageous, go +right up after them, and introduce himself,--just as if they had not +caught him off his guard and put him into a ridiculous position,--or +delay a little while in the hope that their memory of it would be less +keen. + +He decided that he had better be courageous. When he reached the top +floor, he went into his room; he was feeling nervous over the prospect +of confronting his charges, and he wished to be sure that his hair and +his necktie looked right. While he was examining himself in the mirror, +he heard a door open on the corridor and a boy call, "Lou! Did you know +that Mr. Williams won't be back this term?" + +Farther down the corridor a voice answered, "No! What's the matter?" + +"Typhoid. Mr. Randolph told me." + +"Who's taken his place?" It was another voice that asked this question. + +"A new man--named Upton. I haven't laid eyes on him yet." + +"Wouldn't it be a joke--!" The speaker paused to laugh. "Suppose it +should turn out to be the new kid!" + +"'I am not a new kid; I am a master.'" + +The mimicry was so accurate that Irving winced and then flushed to the +temples. In the laughter that it produced he closed his door quietly and +sat down to think. He couldn't be courageous now; he felt that he could +not step out and face those fellows who were laughing at him. Of course +they were the ones who ought to be embarrassed by his appearance, not +he; but Irving felt they would lend one another support and brazen it +through, and that he would be the one to exhibit weakness. He decided +that he must wait and try to make himself known to each one of them +separately--that only by such a beginning would he be likely to engage +their respect. + +It was the first time that he had been brought face to face with his +pitiable diffidence. He was ashamed; he thought of how differently +Lawrence would have met the situation--how much more directly he would +have dealt with it. Irving resolved that hereafter he would not be +afraid of any multitude of boys. But he refrained from making his +presence known in the dormitory that afternoon. + +At half past five o'clock he went downstairs to the rooms of Mr. +Randolph, who had charge of the Upper School. Mr. Marcy, the Fifth Form +dormitory master, and Mr. Wythe, the Fourth Form dormitory master, were +also there. They were veterans, comparatively, and it was to meet them +and benefit by what they could tell him that Irving had been invited. +All three congratulated him on his good fortune in obtaining the Sixth +Form dormitory. + +"The older they are, the less trouble they are," said Wythe. "My first +year I was over at the Lower School, looking after the little kids. Half +the time they're sick and whimpering and have to be coddled, and the +rest of the time they have to be spanked." + +"It hardly matters what age they are," lamented Marcy, pessimistically. +"There's bound to be a dormitory disorder once in so often." + +"What do you do in that case?" asked Irving. + +"Jump hard on some one," answered Wythe. "Try to get the leader of it, +but if you can't get him, get somebody. Report him,--give him three +sheets." + +"That means writing Latin lines for three hours on half-holidays?" + +"Yes, and six marks off in Decorum for the week. Of course they'll come +wheedling round you, wanting to be excused; you have to use your own +discretion about that." + +"Do you have any Sixth Form classes?" asked Marcy. + +"Yes," Irving answered. "In Geometry." + +"That means you'll have to take the upper hand and hold it, right from +the start. If you have one crowd in dormitory to look after and another +crowd in class, you can afford to relax a little now and then; but when +it's the same boys in both--they watch for any sign of weakening." + +"There will be only two of them at your table, any way, Mr. Upton," said +Randolph. He passed over a list. "The others are all Fourth and Fifth +Formers--only Westby and Carroll from the Sixth!" + +"Westby!" Wythe sighed. "Maybe we were premature in congratulating you. +I'd forgotten about Westby." + +"What is the matter with him?" asked Irving. + +"His cleverness, and his attractiveness. He smiles and smiles and is a +villain still. He was in my dormitory year before last and kept it in a +constant turmoil. And yet if you have any sense of humor at all you +can't help being amused by him--even sympathizing with him--though it's +apt to be at your own expense." + +"He's perfectly conscienceless," declared Marcy. + +"And yet there's no real harm in him," said Randolph. + +"He seems to be something of a puzzle." Irving spoke uneasily. "And he's +to be at my table--I'm to have a table?" + +"Oh, yes. In fact, one or two of the Sixth Formers--Scarborough, for +instance--have tables. But we don't let all the Sixth Formers eat +together; we try to scatter them. And Westby and Carroll have fallen to +your lot." + +"If you happen to see either of them before supper, I should like to +meet them," Irving said. + +He felt that if he could make their acquaintance separately and without +witnesses, he could produce a better impression than if he waited and +confronted them before a whole table of strange faces. + +But as it happened, that was just the way that he did meet Westby and +Carroll. When the supper bell sounded, the hallway of the Upper School +was crowded with boys, examining the schedule which had been posted and +which assigned them to their seats in the dining-room. Irving, after +waiting nervously until more than half the number had entered the +dining-room and deriving no help from any of the other masters, went in +and stood at the head of the third table, as he had been instructed to +do. Four or five boys were already standing there at their places; they +looked at him with curiosity and bowed to him politely. The crowd as it +entered thinned; Irving was beginning to hope that Westby and Carroll +had gone elsewhere,--and then, just as Mr. Randolph was mounting to the +head table on the dais, two boys slipped in and stood at the seats at +Irving's right. He recognized them as having been two of the three who +had laughed when he had proclaimed himself a master. One was the slim, +tall fellow who had called him "new kid." + +For a moment at Irving's table, after the boys had rattled into their +seats, there was silence. In front of Irving were a platter of cold +tongue and a dish of beans, and he began to put portions of each on the +plates piled before him. Then as he passed the first plate along the +line he looked up and said, "I think we'd better find out who everybody +is. So each fellow, as he gets his plate, will please sing out his +name." + +That was not such a bad beginning; there was a general grin which +broadened into a laugh when the first boy blushingly owned to the name +of Walnut. Then came Lacy and Norris, and then Westby. + +"Oh," said Irving. "I think you're to be in my dormitory, aren't you?" + +"I believe so." Westby looked at him quizzically, as if expecting him to +make some reference to their encounter; but Irving passed on to his next +neighbor, Carroll, and then began with the other side of the table. + +He liked the appearance of the boys; they were quiet-looking and +respectful, and they had been responsive enough to his suggestion about +announcing their names. A happy inspiration told him that so long as he +could keep on taking the initiative with boys, he would have no serious +trouble. But it was one thing to recognize an effective mode of conduct, +and another to have the resourcefulness for carrying it out. Irving was +just thinking what next he should say, when Westby fell upon him. + +"Mr. Upton,"--Westby's voice was curiously distinct, in spite of its +quietness,--"wasn't it funny, our taking you for a new kid this +afternoon?" + +Because the question was so obviously asked in a lull to embarrass him, +Irving was embarrassed. The interest of all the boys at the table had +been skillfully excited, and Westby leaned forward in front of Carroll, +with mischievous eyes and smile. Irving felt his color rising; he felt +both abashed and annoyed. + +"Why, yes," he said hesitatingly. "I--I was a little startled." + +"Did they take you for a new kid, Mr. Upton?" asked Blake, the Fifth +Former, who sat on Irving's left. + +"For a moment, yes," admitted Irving, anxious not to pursue the subject. + +But Westby proceeded to explain with gusto, while the whole table +listened. "Lou Collingwood and Carrie here and I were in front of the +Study, and out came Mr. Upton. And Lou wanted to nail him for the +Pythians, so we all pranced up to him, and I said, 'Hello, new kid; what +name, please?'--just like that; didn't I, Mr. Upton?" + +"Yes," said Irving grudgingly. He had an uneasy feeling that he was +being made an object of general entertainment; certainly the eyes of all +the boys at the table were fixed upon him smilingly. + +"What happened then?" asked the blunt Blake. + +"Why, then," continued Westby, "Mr. Upton told us that he wasn't a new +kid at all, but a new master. You may imagine we were surprised--weren't +we, Mr. Upton?" + +"Oh, I could hardly tell--" + +"The joke was certainly on us. As the French say, it was a +_contretemps_. To think that after all the years we'd been here, we +couldn't tell a new kid from a new master!" + +Irving was mildly bewildered. He could not quite determine whether +Westby was telling the story more as a joke on himself or on him. +Anyway, in spite of the temporary embarrassment which they had caused +him, there seemed to be nothing offensive in the remarks. He liked +Westby's face; it was alert and good-humored, and the cajoling quality +in the boy's voice and the twinkle in his eyes were quite attractive. In +fact, his manner during supper was so agreeable that Irving quite forgot +it was this youth whom he had overheard mimicking him: "I am not a new +kid; I am a master." + +After supper there were prayers in the Common Room; then all the boys +except the Sixth Formers went to the Study building to sit for an hour +under the eyes of a master, to read or write letters. On subsequent +evenings they would have to employ this period in studying, but as yet +no lessons had been assigned; the classroom work had not begun. The +Sixth Form were exempt from the necessity of attending Study, and had +the privilege of preparing their lessons in their own rooms. Irving +found, on going up to his dormitory, that the boys were visiting one +another, helping one another unpack, darting up and down the corridor +and carrying on loud conversations. He decided, as there were no lessons +for them to prepare, not to interfere; their sociability seemed harmless +enough. + +So, leaving the door of his room open that he might hear and suppress +any incipient disorder, he began a letter to Lawrence. He thought at +first that he would confide to his brother the little troubles which +were annoying him. But when he set about it, they seemed really too +petty to transcribe; surely he was man enough to bear such worries +without appealing to a younger brother for advice. + +There was a loud burst of laughter from a room in which several boys had +gathered. It was followed by the remark in Westby's pleasant, +persuasive voice,-- + +"Look out, fellows, or we'll have Kiddy Upton down on us." + +"Kiddy Upton!" another voice exclaimed in delight, and there was more +laughter. + +Kiddy Upton! So that was to be his name. Of course boys gave nicknames +to their teachers,--Irving remembered some appellations that had +prevailed even at college. But none of them seemed so slighting or so +jeering as this of Kiddy; and Irving flushed as he had done when he had +been taken for a "new kid." But now his sensitiveness was even more +hurt; it wounded him that Westby, that pleasant, humorous person, should +have been the one to apply the epithet. + +Westby began singing "The Wearing of the Green," to an accompaniment on +a banjo. Presently four or five voices, with extravagant brogues, were +uplifted in the chorus:-- + + "'Tis the most disthressful counthry + That ever there was seen; + For they're hanging men and women too + For wearin' of the green." + +There was much applause; boys from other rooms went hurrying down the +corridor. The banjo-player struck up "The Road to Mandalay;" again +Irving recognized Westby's voice. + +Irving decided that he must not be thin-skinned; it was his part to step +up, be genial, make himself known to all these boys who were to be under +his care, and show them that he wished to be friendly. He did not wait +to debate with himself the wisdom of this resolve or to consider how he +should proceed; he acted on the impulse. He walked down the corridor to +the third room on the left--the door of Westby's room, from which the +sounds of joviality proceeded. He knocked; some one called "Come in;" +and Irving opened the door. + +Three boys sat in chairs, three sat on the bed; Westby himself was +squatting cross-legged on the window seat, with the banjo across his +knees. They all rose politely when Irving entered. + +"I thought I would drop in and make your acquaintance," said Irving. +"We're bound to know one another some time." + +"My name's Collingwood," said the boy nearest him, offering his hand. He +was a healthy, light-haired, solidly put together youth, with a genial +smile. "This is Scarborough, Mr. Upton." + +The biggest of them all came forward at that and shook hands. Irving +thought that his deep-set dark eyes were disconcertingly direct in their +gaze; and a lock of black hair overhung his brow in a far from +propitiating manner. Yet his bearing was dignified and manly; Irving +felt that he might be trusted to show magnanimity. + +"Here's Carroll," continued Collingwood; and Irving said, "Oh, I know +Carroll; we sat together at supper." Carroll said nothing, merely smiled +in an agreeable, non-committal manner; so far it was all that Irving had +discovered he could do. + +"That fellow with the angel face is Morrill," Collingwood went on, "and +the one next to him, with the aristocratic features, is Baldersnaith, +and this red-head here is Dennison,--and that's Westby." + +Irving, shaking hands round the circle, said, "Oh, I know Westby." + +"Sit down, won't you, Mr. Upton?" Westby pushed his armchair forward. + +"Thank you; don't let me interrupt the singing." + +"Maybe you'll join us?" + +Irving shook his head. "I wish I could. But please go on." + +Westby squatted again on the window-seat and plucked undecidedly at the +banjo-strings. Then he cleared his throat and launched upon a negro +melody; he sang it with the unctuous abandon of the darkey, and Irving +listened and looked on enviously, admiring the display of talent. Westby +sang another song, and then turned and pushed up the window. + +"Awfully hot for this time of year, isn't it?" he said. "Fine moonlight +night; wouldn't it be great to go for a swim?" + +"Um!" said Morrill, appreciatively. + +"Will you let us go, Mr. Upton?" Westby asked the question pleadingly. +"Won't you please let us go? It's such a fine warm moonlight night--and +it isn't as if school had really begun, you know." + +"But I think the rules don't permit your being out at this time of +night, do they?" said Irving. + +"Well, but as I say, school hasn't really begun yet. And besides, Scabby +here is almost as good as a master--and so is Lou Collingwood; I'm the +only really irresponsible one in the bunch--" + +"Where do you go to swim?" + +"In the pond, just beyond the isthmus--only about a quarter of a mile +from here. Come on, fellows, Mr. Upton's going to let us go." + +Irving laughed uneasily. "Oh, I didn't say that. If Mr. Randolph is +willing that you should go, I wouldn't object." + +"You're in charge of this dormitory," argued Westby. "And if you gave us +permission, Mr. Randolph wouldn't say anything." + +"I don't feel that I can make an exception to the rules," said Irving. + +"But school hasn't really begun yet," persisted Westby. + +"I think it really has, so far as observing the rules is concerned," +replied Irving. + +"You might go with us, sir--and that would make it all right." + +"But I don't believe I want to go in swimming this evening." + +"I'm awfully afraid you're going to be just like granite, Mr. Upton," +sighed Westby,--"the man with the iron jaw." He turned on the others a +humorous look; they all were smiling. Irving felt uncomfortable again, +suspecting that Westby was making game of him, yet not knowing in what +way to meet it--except by silence. + +"I'll tell you what I will do with you to-morrow, Wes," said +Collingwood. "I'll challenge you to that water duel that we were to have +pulled off last June." + +"All right, Lou," said Westby. "Carrie here will be my trusty squire and +will paddle my canoe." + +Carroll grinned his assent. + +"I'll pick Ned Morrill for my second," said Collingwood. "And Scabby can +be referee." + +"What's a water duel?" asked Irving. + +"They go out in canoes, two in each canoe," answered Scarborough. "One +fellow paddles, and the other stands up in the bow with a long pole and +a big fat sponge tied to the end of it. Then the two canoes manoeuvre, +and try to get within striking distance, and the fellow or canoe that +gets upset first loses. We had a tournament last spring, and these two +pairs came through to the finals, but never fought it out--baseball or +tennis or something always interfered." + +"It must be quite an amusing game," said Irving. + +"Come up to the swimming hole to-morrow afternoon if you want to see +it," said Collingwood, hospitably. "I'll just about drown Westby. It +will be a good show." + +"Thank you; I'd like to--" + +"But don't you think, Mr. Upton,"--again it was Westby, with his cajoling +voice and his wheedling smile,--"that I might have just one evening's +moonlight practice for it?" + +"Oh, I don't believe you need any practice." + +"But you said I might if Mr. Randolph would consent. I don't see why you +shouldn't be independent, as well as liberal." + +There was a veiled insinuation in this, for all the good-natured, +teasing tone, and Irving did not like it. + +"No," he said. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can't let you go swimming +to-night.--I'm glad to have met you all." And so he took his departure, +and presently the sound of banjo and singing rose again from Westby's +room. + +Irving proceeded to visit the other rooms of the dormitory and to make +the acquaintance of the occupants--boys engaged mostly in arranging +bureau drawers or hanging pictures. They were all friendly enough; it +seemed to him that he could get on with boys individually; it was when +they faced him in numbers that they alarmed him and caused his manner +to be hesitating and embarrassed. One big fellow named Allison was +trying to hang a picture when Irving entered; it was a large and heavy +picture, and Irving held it straight while Allison stood on a chair and +set the hook on the moulding. Allison thanked Irving with the gratitude +of one unaccustomed to receiving such consideration; indeed, his +uncouthness and unkemptness made him one of those unfortunate boys who +suffered now and then from persecution. Irving learned afterwards that +the crowd he had met in Westby's room hung together and were the leaders +not merely in the affairs of the dormitory, but of the school. + +At half past nine the big bell on the Study building rang twice--the +signal for the boys to go to their respective rooms. Irving had been +informed of the little ceremony which was the custom; he stepped out in +front of his door at the end of the corridor, and one after another the +boys came up, shook hands with him, and bade him good-night. Westby came +to him with the engaging and yet somewhat disquieting smile which +recalled to Irving Mr. Wythe's words, "He smiles and smiles, but is a +villain still." It was a smile which seemed to suggest the discernment +and enjoyment of all one's weak spots. + +"_Good_-night, Mr. Upton," said Westby, and his voice was excessively +urbane. It made Irving look forward to a better acquaintance with both +expectancy and apprehension. + +The first morning of actual school work went well enough; Irving met his +classes, which were altogether in mathematics, assigned them lessons, +and managed to keep them and himself busy. From one of them he brought +away some algebra exercises, which he spent part of the afternoon in +correcting. When he had finished this work, the invitation to witness +the water duel occurred to his mind. + +He found no other master to bear him company, so he set off by himself +through the woods which bordered the pond behind the Gymnasium. He came +at last to the "isthmus"--a narrow dyke of stones which cut off a long +inlet and bridged the way over to a wooded peninsula that jutted out +into the pond. On the farther side of this peninsula, secluded behind +trees and bushes, was the swimming hole. + +As Irving approached, he heard voices; he drew nearer and saw the bare +backs of boys undressing and heard then the defiances which they were +hurling at one another--phrased in the language of Ivanhoe. + +"Nay, by my halidome, but I shall this day do my devoir right worthily +upon the body of yon false knight," quoth Westby, as he carefully turned +his shirt right side out. + +"A murrain on thee! Beshrew me if I do not spit thee upon my trusty +lance," replied Collingwood, as he drew on his swimming tights. + +Then some one trotted out upon the spring-board, gave a bounce and a +leap, and went into the water with a splash. + +"How is it, Ned?" called Westby; and Irving came up as Morrill, reaching +out for a long side stroke, shouted, "Oh, fine--warm and fine." + +"Hello, Mr. Upton." It was Baldersnaith who first saw him; Baldersnaith, +Dennison, and Smythe were fully dressed and were sitting under a tree +looking on. + +"You're just in time," said Collingwood. + +Scarborough, stripped like Westby and Carroll and Morrill and +Collingwood, was out on the pond, paddling round in a canoe. He was +crouched on one knee in the middle, and the canoe careened over with his +weight, so that the gunwale was only an inch or two above the surface. +He was evidently an expert paddler, swinging the craft round, this way +and that, without ever taking the paddle out of the water. + +Two other canoes were hauled up near the spring-board; Carroll was +bending over one of them. + +"Bring me my lethal weapon, Carrie," Westby commanded. "I want to show +Mr. Upton.--Is the button on tight?" + +Carroll produced from the canoe a long pole with an enormous sponge +fastened to one end; he pulled at the sponge and announced, "Yes, the +button's on tight," and passed the pole over to Westby. + +Westby made one or two experimental lunges with it and remarked +musingly, "When I catch him square above the bread line with this--!" + +"Come on, then!" said Collingwood. "Come here, Ned!" + +Morrill swam ashore and pushed off in one of the canoes with +Collingwood--taking the stern seat and the paddle. Collingwood knelt in +the bow, with his spear laid across the gun-wales in front of him. In +like manner Westby and Carroll took to the water. + +"This is the best two bouts out of three," called Scarborough, as he +circled round. "Don't you want to come aboard, Mr. Upton, and help +judge?" + +"Why, yes, thank you," said Irving. + +So Scarborough called, "Wait a moment, fellows," and paddling ashore, +took on his passenger. Then he sped out to the middle of the bay; the +two other canoes were separated by about fifty feet. + +"Charge!" cried Scarborough, and Morrill and Carroll began paddling +towards each other, while in the bows Collingwood and Westby rose to +their feet and held their spears in front of them. They advanced +cautiously and then swung apart, evading the collision--each trying to +tempt the other to stab and overreach. + +"Oh, you're both scared!" jeered Baldersnaith from the shore. + +The canoes swung about and made for each other again; and this time +passed within striking distance. Westby's aim missed, his sponge-tipped +lance slid past Collingwood's shoulder, and the next instant +Collingwood's sponge--well weighted with water--smote Westby full in the +chest and hove him overboard. For one moment Carroll struggled to keep +the canoe right side up, but in vain; it tipped and filled, and with a +shout he plunged in head foremost after his comrade. + +They came up and began to push their canoe ashore; the two other canoes +drew alongside and assisted, Scarborough and Morrill paddling, while +Irving and Collingwood laid hold of the thwarts. + +"That's all right; I'll get you this time," spluttered Westby. "We're +going to use strategy now." + +They emptied the water out of the canoe and proceeded again to the +battleground. Then, when Scarborough gave the word, Carroll began +paddling madly; he and Westby bore down upon their antagonists at a most +threatening speed. Morrill swung to the right to get out of their path; +and then suddenly Carroll swung in the opposite direction--with what +strategic purpose neither Irving nor Scarborough had time to conjecture. +For they were loitering close on that side, not expecting any such +manoeuvre; the sharp turn drove the bow of Carroll's canoe straight for +the waist of Scarborough's, and Westby with an excited laugh undertook +to fend off with his pole, lost his balance, and trying to recover it, +upset both canoes together. + +Irving felt himself going, heard Westby's laughing shout, "Look out, Mr. +Upton!" and then went under. + +[Illustration: THE CANOES SWUNG ABOUT AND MADE FOR EACH OTHER] + + + + +CHAPTER III + +WESTBY'S AMUSEMENTS + + +The water was warm, but Irving swallowed a good deal of it and also was +conscious of the fact that he had on a perfectly good suit of clothes. +So he came to the surface, choking and annoyed; and when he recovered +his faculties, he observed first of all Westby's grinning face. + +"You can swim all right, can't you, Mr. Upton?" said Westby. "I thought +for a moment we might have to dive for you." + +Irving clutched at the stern of the capsized canoe and said, rather +curtly, "I'm not dressed to enjoy swimming." + +"I'm awfully sorry," said Scarborough. "But I never thought they were +going to turn that way; I don't know what Carrie thought he was doing--" + +"I'd have shown you some strategy if you hadn't blundered into us," +declared Carroll. + +"Blundered into you! There was no need for Wes to give us such a poke, +anyhow." + +Westby replied merely with an irritating chuckle--irritating at least to +Irving, who felt that he should be showing more contrition. + +Collingwood and Morrill came alongside, both laughing, jeering at Westby +and offering polite expressions of solicitude to the master. They told +him to lay hold of the tail of their canoe, and then they towed him +ashore as rapidly as possible. When he drew himself up, dripping, on the +bank, Baldersnaith, Dennison, and Smythe were all on the broad grin, and +from the water floated the sound of Westby's merriment. + +Irving stood for a moment, letting himself drip, quite undecided as to +what he should do. He had never been ducked before, with all his clothes +on; the clammy, weighted sensation was most unpleasant, the thought of +his damaged and perhaps ruined suit was galling, the indignity of his +appearance was particularly hard to bear. He felt that Baldersnaith and +the others were trying to be as polite and considerate as possible, and +yet they could not refrain from exhibiting their amusement, their +delight. + +Scarborough, who had swum ahead of the others, waded ashore and looked +him over. "I tell you what you'd better do, Mr. Upton," he said. "You'd +better take your clothes off, wring them out, and spread them out to +dry. They'll dry in this sun and wind. And while they're doing that, you +can come in swimming with us." + +Irving hesitated a moment; instinct told him that the advice was +sensible, yet he shrank from accepting it; he felt that for a master to +do what Scarborough suggested would be undignified, and might somehow +compromise his position. "I think I'd better run home and rub myself +down and put on some dry things," he replied. + +"Well," said Scarborough, "just as you say. Sorry I got you into this +mess." + +"Oh, it's all right," said Irving. + +He walked away, with the water trickling uncomfortably down him inside +his clothes and swashing juicily in his shoes. He liked Scarborough for +the way he had acted, but he felt less kindly towards Westby. He was by +no means sure that Westby had not deliberately soused him and then +pretended it was an accident. He remembered Westby's mirthful laugh just +when the thing was happening; and certainly if it had really been an +accident Westby had shown very little concern. He had been indecently +amused; he was so still; his clear joyous laugh was ringing after Irving +even now, and Irving felt angrily that he was at this moment a +ridiculous figure. To be running home drenched!--probably it would have +been better if he had done what Scarborough had suggested, less +undignified, more manly really. But he couldn't turn back now. + +He was cold and his teeth had begun to chatter, so he started to run. He +hoped that when he came out of the woods he might be fortunate enough to +elude observation on the way to the Upper School, but in this he was +disappointed. As he jogged by the Study building, with his clothes +jouncing and slapping heavily upon his shoulders, out came the rector +and met him face to face. + +"Upset canoeing?" asked the rector with a smile. + +"Yes," Irving answered; he stood for a moment awkwardly. + +"Well, it will happen sometimes," said the rector. "Don't catch cold." +And he passed on. + +There was some consolation for Irving in this matter-of-fact view. In +the rector's eyes apparently his dignity had not suffered by the +incident. But when a moment later he passed a group of Fourth Formers +and they turned and stared at him, grinning, he felt that his dignity +had suffered very much. He felt that within a short time his misfortune +would be the talk of the school. + +At supper it was as he expected it would be. Westby set about airing the +story for the benefit of the table, appealing now and then to Irving +himself for confirmation of the passages which were least gratifying to +Irving's vanity. "You _did_ look so woe-begone when you stood up on +shore, Mr. Upton," was the genial statement which Irving especially +resented. To have Westby tell the boys the first day how he had called +the new master a new kid and the second day how he had ducked him was a +little too much; it seemed to Irving that Westby was slyly amusing +himself by undermining his authority. But the boy's manner was +pleasantly ingratiating always; Irving felt baffled. Carroll did not +help him much towards an interpretation; Carroll sat by self-contained, +quietly intelligent, amused. Irving liked both the boys, and yet as the +days passed, he seemed to grow more and more uneasy and anxious in their +society. + +In the classroom he was holding his own; he was a good mathematical +scholar, he prepared the lessons thoroughly, and he found it generally +easy to keep order by assigning problems to be worked out in class. The +weather continued good, so that during play time the fellows were out +of doors instead of loafing round in dormitory. They all had their own +little affairs to organize; athletic clubs and literary societies held +their first meetings; there was a process of general shaking down; and +in the interest and industry occasioned by all this, there was not much +opportunity or disposition to make trouble. + +But the first Sunday was a bad day. In a boys' school bad weather is apt +to be accompanied by bad behavior; on this Sunday it poured. The boys, +having put on their best clothes, were obliged, when they went out to +chapel, to wear rubbers and to carry umbrellas--an imposition against +which they rebelled. After chapel, there was an hour before dinner, and +in that hour most of the Sixth Formers sought their rooms--or sought one +another's rooms; it seemed to Irving, who was trying to read and who had +a headache, that there was a needless amount of rushing up and down the +corridors and of slamming of doors. By and by the tumult became +uproarious, shouts of laughter and the sound of heavy bodies being +flung against walls reached his ears; he emerged then and saw the +confusion at the end of the corridor. Allison was suspended two or three +feet above the floor, by a rope knotted under his arms; it was the rope +that was used for raising trunks up to the loft above. In lowering it +from the loft some one had trespassed on forbidden ground. Westby, +Collingwood, Dennison, Scarborough, and half a dozen others were +gathered, enjoying Allison's ludicrous struggles. His plight was not +painful, only absurd; and Irving himself could not at first keep back a +smile. But he came forward and said,-- + +"Oh, look here, fellows, whoever is responsible for this will have to +climb up and release Allison." + +Westby turned with his engaging smile. + +"Yes, but, Mr. Upton, who do you suppose is responsible? I don't see how +we can fix the responsibility, do you?" + +"I will undertake to fix it," said Irving. "Westby, suppose you climb +that ladder and let Allison down." + +"I don't think you're approaching this matter in quite a judicial +spirit, Mr. Upton," said Westby. "Of course no man wants to be +arbitrary; he wants to be just. It really seems to me, Mr. Upton, that +no action should be taken until the matter has been more thoroughly +sifted." + +The other boys, with the exception of Allison, were chuckling at this +glib persuasiveness. Westby stood there, in a calmly respectful, even +deferential attitude, as if animated only by a desire to serve the +truth. + +"We will have no argument about it, Westby," said Irving. "Please climb +the ladder at once and release Allison." + +"I beg of you, Mr. Upton," said Westby in a tone of distress, "don't, +please don't, confuse argument with impartial inquiry; nothing is more +distasteful to me than argument. I merely ask for investigation; I court +it in your own interest as well as mine." + +Irving grew rigid. His head was throbbing painfully; the continued +snickering all round him and Westby's increasing confidence and fluency +grated on his nerves. He drew out his watch. + +"I will give you one minute in which to climb that ladder," he said. + +"Mr. Upton, you wish to be a just man," pleaded Westby. "Even though you +have the great weight of authority--and years"--Westby choked a +laugh--"behind you, don't do an unjust and arbitrary thing. Allison +himself wouldn't have you--would you, Allison?" + +The victim grinned uncomfortably. + +"Mr. Upton," urged Westby, "you wouldn't have me soil these hands?" He +displayed his laudably clean, pink fingers. "Of course, if I go up there +I shall get my hands all dirty--and equally of course if I had been up +there, they would be all dirty now. Surely you believe in the value of +circumstantial evidence; therefore, before we fix the responsibility, +let us search for the dirty pair of hands." + +"Time is up," said Irving, closing his watch. + +"But what is time when justice trembles in the balance?" argued Westby. +"When the innocent is in danger of being punished for the guilty, when--" + +"Westby, please climb that ladder at once." + +"So young and so inexorable!" murmured Westby, setting his foot upon the +ladder. + +Irving's face was red; the tittering of the audience was making him +angry. He held his eyes on Westby, who made a slow, grunting progress up +three rungs and then stopped. + +"Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, sir!" Westby's voice was ingratiating. "Mayn't +Allison sing for us, sir?" + +Allison grinned again foolishly and sent a sprawling foot out towards +his persecutor; the others laughed. + +"Keep on climbing," said Irving. + +Westby resumed his toilsome way, and as he moved he kept murmuring +remarks to Allison, to the others, to Irving himself, half audible, +rapid, in an aggrieved tone. + +"Don't see why you want to be conspicuous this way, Allison.--Won't +sing--amuse anybody--ornamental, I suppose--good timekeeper though--almost +hear you tick. Mr. Upton--setting watch by you now--awfully severe kind of +man--" + +So mumbling, with the responsive titter still continuing below and +Irving standing there stern and red, Westby disappeared into the loft. +There was a moment's silence, then a sudden clicking of a ratchet wheel, +and Allison began to rise rapidly towards the ceiling. + +"A-ay!" cried Allison in amazement. + +The boys burst out in delighted laughter. + +"Westby! Westby! Stop that!" Irving's voice was shrill with anger. + +Allison became stationary once more, and Westby displayed an innocent, +surprised face at the loft opening. + +"If there is any more nonsense in letting Allison down, I shall really +have to report you." Irving's voice rose tremulously to a high key; he +was trying hard to control it. + +Westby gazed down with surprise. "Why, I guess I must have turned the +crank the wrong way, don't you suppose I did, Mr. Upton?--Don't worry, +Allison, old man; I'll rescue you, never fear. I'll try to lower you +gently, so that you won't get hurt; you'll call out if you find you're +coming down too fast, won't you?" + +He withdrew his head, and presently the ratchet wheel clicked and +slowly, very slowly, Allison began to descend. When his feet were a +couple of inches from the floor, the descent stopped. + +"All right now?" called Westby from above. + +"No!" bawled Allison. + +"Ve-ry gently then, ve-ry gently," replied Westby; and Allison, reaching +for the floor with his toes, had at last the satisfaction of feeling it. +He wriggled out of the noose and smoothed out his rumpled coat. + +"Saved!" exclaimed Westby, peering down from the opening, and then he +added sorrowfully, "Saved, and no word of gratitude to his rescuer!" + +"Now, boys, don't stand round here any longer; we've had enough +nonsense; go to your rooms," said Irving. + +"Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, Mr. Upton, sir!" clamored Westby, and the boys +lingered. + +Irving looked up in exasperation. "What is it now?" + +"May I come down, please, sir?" + +"Yes." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Carefully Westby descended the ladder, mumbling all the time sentences +of which the lingerers caught fragmentary scraps: "Horrible experience +that of Allison's--dreadful situation to have been in--so fortunate that I +was at hand--the man who dares--reckless courage, ready resource--home +again!" He dropped to the floor, and raising his hand to his forehead, +saluted Irving. + +"Come, move on, all you fellows," said Irving; the others were still +hanging about and laughing; "move on, move on! Carroll, you and Westby +take that ladder down and put it back where you got it." + +He stayed to see that the order was carried out; then he returned to his +room. He felt that though he had conquered in this instance, he had +adopted the wrong tone, and that he must offer something else than +peevishness and irritation to ward off Westby's humor; already it gave +indications of becoming too audacious. Yet on the whole Irving was +pleased because he had at least asserted himself--and had rather enjoyed +doing it. And an hour later it seemed to him that he had lost all that +he had gained. + +Roast beef was the unvarying dish at Sunday dinner; a large and fragrant +sirloin was set before the head of each table to be carved. Irving took +up the carving knife and fork with some misgivings. Hitherto he had had +nothing more difficult to deal with than steaks or chops or croquettes +or stews; and carving was an art that he had never learned; confronted +by the necessity, he was amazed to find that he had so little idea of +how to proceed. The first three slices came off readily enough, though +they were somewhat ragged, and Irving was aware that Westby was +surveying his operations with a critical interest. The knife seemed to +grow more dull, the meat more wobbly, more tough, the bone got more and +more in the way; the maid who was passing the vegetables was waiting, +all the boys except the three who had been helped first were waiting, +coldly critical, anxiously apprehensive; silence at this table had begun +to reign. + +Irving felt himself blushing and muttered, "This knife's awfully dull," +as he sawed away. At last he hacked off an unsightly slab and passed it +to Westby, whose turn it was and who wrinkled his nose at it in +disfavor. + +"Please have this knife sharpened," Irving said to the maid. She put +down the potatoes and the corn, and departed with the instrument to the +kitchen. + +Irving glanced at the other tables; everybody seemed to have been +served, everybody was eating; Scarborough, who was in charge of the next +table, had entirely demolished his roast. + +"I'm sorry to keep you fellows waiting," Irving said, "but that's the +dullest knife I ever handled." + +He addressed the remark to the totally unprovided side of his table; he +turned his head just in time to catch Westby's humorous mouth and droll +droop of an eyelid. The other boys smiled, and Irving's cheeks grew more +hot. + +"You'll excuse me, Mr. Upton, if I don't wait, won't you?" said Westby. +"Don't get impatient, fellows." + +The maid returned with the carving knife; Westby paused in his eating to +observe. Irving made another unsuccessful effort; the meat quivered and +shook and slid under his attack, and the knife slipped and clashed down +upon the platter. + +"Perhaps if you would stand up to it, sir, you would do better," +suggested Westby, in an insidious voice. "Nobody else does, but if it +would be easier--" + +"Thank you, but the suggestion is unnecessary," Irving retorted. He +added to the other boys, while he struggled, "It's the meat, I guess, +not the knife, after all--" + +"Why, I shouldn't say it was the meat," interposed Westby. "The meat's +quite tender." + +Irving glanced at him in silent fury, clamped his lips together, and +went on sawing. He finally was able to hand to Carroll a plate on which +reposed a mussy-looking heap of beef. Carroll wrinkled his nose over it +as Westby had done. + +"If I might venture to suggest, sir," said Westby politely, "you could +send it out and have it carved in the kitchen." + +Irving surrendered; he looked up and said to the maid,-- + +"Please take this out and have it carved outside." + +He felt that he could almost cry from the humiliation, but instead he +tried to assume cheerfulness and dignity. + +"I'm sorry," he said, "to have to keep you fellows waiting; we'll try to +arrange things so that it won't happen again." + +The boys accepted the apology in gloomy silence. At Scarborough's table +their plight was exciting comment; Irving was aware of the curious +glances which had been occasioned by the withdrawal of the roast. It +seemed to him that he was publicly disgraced; there was a peculiar +ignominy in sitting at the head of a table and being unable to perform +the simplest duty of host. Worst of all, in the encounter with Westby he +had lost ground. + +The meat was brought on again, sliced in a manner which could not +conceal the unskillfulness of the original attack. + +"Stone cold!" exclaimed Blake, the first boy to test it. + +Irving's temper flew up. "Don't be childish," he said. "And don't make +any more comments about this matter. It's of no importance--and cold +roast beef is just as good for you as hot." + +"If not a great deal better," added Westby with an urbanity that set +every one snickering. + +After dinner Irving was again on duty for two hours in the dormitory, +until the time for afternoon chapel. During part of this period the boys +were expected to be in their rooms, preparing the Bible lesson which had +to be recited after chapel to the rector. Irving made the rounds and +saw that each boy was in his proper quarters, then went to his own room. +For an hour he enjoyed quiet. Then the bell rang announcing that the +study period was at an end. Instantly there was a commotion in the +corridors--legitimate enough; but soon it centred in the north wing and +grew more and more clamorous, more and more mirthful. + +With a sigh Irving went forth to quell it. He determined that whatever +happened he would not this time lose his temper; he would try to be +persuasive and yet firm. + +The noise was in Allison's room; the unfortunate Allison was again being +persecuted. Loud whoops of laughter and the sound of vigorous scuffling, +of tumbling chairs and pounding feet, came to Irving's ears. The door to +Allison's room was wide open; Irving stood and looked upon a pile of +bodies heaped on the bed, with struggling arms and legs; even in that +moment the foot of the iron bedstead collapsed, and the pile rolled off +upon the floor. There were Morrill and Carroll and Westby and Dennison +and at the bottom Allison--all looking very much rumpled, very red. + +"Oh, come, fellows!" said Irving in what he intended to make an +appealing voice. "Less noise, less noise--or I shall really have to +report you--I shall really!" + +But he did not speak with any confidence; his manner was hesitating, +almost deprecating. The boys grinned at him and then sauntered, rather +indifferently, out of the room. + +There was no more disorder that day. But some hours later, when Irving +came up to the dormitory before supper, he heard laughter in the west +wing, where Collingwood and Westby and Scarborough had their rooms. Then +he heard Westby's voice, raised in an effeminate, pleading tone: "Less +noise, fellows, less noise--or I shall have to report you--I shall +really!" + +There was more laughter at the mimicry, and Irving heard Collingwood +ask, + +"Where did you get that, Wes?" + +"Oh, from Kiddy--this afternoon." + +"Poor Kiddy! He seemed to be having an awful time at noon over that +roast beef." + +"He's such a dodo--he's more fun than a goat. I can put him up in the air +whenever I want to," boasted Westby. "He's the easiest to get rattled I +ever saw. I'm going to play horse with him in class to-morrow." + +"How?" asked Collingwood; and Irving basely pricked up his ears. + +"Oh, you'll see." + +Irving closed the door of his room quietly. "We'll see, will we?" he +muttered, pacing back and forth. "Yes, I guess some one will see." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE BAITING OF A MASTER + + +The room in which the Sixth Form assembled for the lesson in Geometry +was on the top floor of the Study building; the windows overlooked the +pond behind the Gymnasium. The teacher's desk was on a platform in the +corner; a blackboard extended along two walls; and there were steps +beneath the blackboard on which the students stood to make their +demonstrations. + +Irving arrived a minute before the hour and found his class already +assembled--a suspicious circumstance. There was, too, he felt, an air of +subdued, joyous expectancy. He took his seat and, adjusting his +spectacles, peered round the room; his eyesight was very bad, and he +had, moreover, like so many bookworms, never trained his faculty of +observation. + +He read the roll of the class; every boy was there. + +"Scarborough, you may go to the blackboard and demonstrate the Fifth +Theorem; Dennison, you the Sixth; Westby, you the Eighth. The rest of +you will solve at your seats this problem." + +He mounted to the blackboard himself and wrote out the question. While +he had his back turned, he heard some whispering; he looked over his +shoulder. Westby was lingering in his seat and had obviously been +holding communication with his neighbor. + +"Westby,"--Irving's voice was sharp,--"were you trying to get help at the +last moment?" + +"I was not." Westby's answer was prompt. + +"Then don't delay any longer, please; go to the blackboard at once." + +"Yes, sir." + +Westby moved to the blackboard on the side of the room--the one at right +angles to that on which Irving and Scarborough were at work. + +Irving finished his writing, dusted the chalk from his fingers, and +returned to his seat. The boys before him were now bent industriously +over their tablets; Scarborough, Westby, and Dennison were drawing +figures on the blackboard, using the long pointers for rulers and making +beautiful circles by means of chalk attached to pieces of string. A +glance at Westby showed that youth apparently intent upon solving the +problem assigned him and at work upon it intelligently. Irving began to +feel serene; he proceeded to correct the algebra exercises of the Fourth +Form, which he had received the hour before. + +A sudden titter from some one down in front, hastily suppressed and +transformed into a cough, caused him to look up. Morrill, with his mouth +hidden behind his hand, was glancing off toward Westby, and Irving +followed the direction of the glance. + +Westby had completed his geometrical figures and was now engaged in +labeling them with letters. But instead of employing the usual +geometrical symbols A, B, C, and so on, he was skipping about through +the alphabet, and Irving immediately perceived that he was not choosing +letters at random. Irving observed that the initials of his own name, I, +C, U, formed, as it were, the corner-stone of the geometrical edifice. + +At that moment Westby coughed--an unnatural cough. And instantly a +miracle happened; every single wooden eraser--there were half a dozen of +them--leaped from its place on the shelf beneath the blackboard and +tumbled clattering down the steps to the floor. At the same instant +Westby flung up both arms, tottered on the topmost step, and succeeded +in regaining his poise with apparently great difficulty. + +The class giggled. + +"Mr. Upton, sir! Mr. Upton, sir!" cried Westby excitedly. "Did you feel +the earthquake? It was very noticeable on this side of the room. Do you +think it's safe for us to stay indoors, sir? There may be another +shock!" + +"Westby," Irving's voice had a nervous thrill that for the moment +quieted the laughter, "did you cause those erasers to be pulled down?" + +"Did I cause them to be pulled down? I don't understand, sir. How could +I, sir? Six of them all at once!" + +"Bring me one of those erasers, please." + +Westby stooped; there was a sound of snapping string. Then he came +forward and presented the eraser. + +"You tied string to all these erasers, did you?" Irving examined the +fragment that still clung to the object. "And then arranged to have them +pulled down?" + +"You see how short that string is, sir; nobody could have reached it to +pull it. Didn't you feel the earthquake, sir? Didn't you see how it +almost threw me off my feet? Really, I don't believe it's quite safe to +stay here--" + +"You may be right; I shouldn't wonder at all if there was a second shock +coming to you soon," said Irving, and the subdued chuckle that went +round the class told him he had scored. "You may now demonstrate to the +class the Theorem assigned you." + +"Yes, sir." Westby turned and took up the pointer. + +"We have here," he began, "the two triangles I C U and J A Y--with the +angle I C U of the one equal to the angle J A Y of the other." The class +tittered; Westby went on glibly, bending the lath-like pointer between +his hands: "Let us now erect the angle K I D, equal to the angle I C U; +then the angle K I D will also be equal to the angle J A Y--things equal +to the same thing are equal to each other." + +Westby stopped to turn a surprised, questioning look upon the snickering +class. + +"Yes, that will do for that demonstration," said Irving. He rose from +his seat; his lips were trembling, and the laughter of the class ceased. +"You may leave the room--for your insolence--at once!" + +He had meant to be dignified and calm, but his anger had rushed to the +surface, and his words came in a voice that suggested he was on the +verge of tears. + +"I beg your pardon, sir, but I don't think I quite understand," said +Westby suavely. + +"You understand well enough. I ask you to leave the room." + +"I'm afraid, Mr. Upton, that my little pleasantries--usually considered +harmless--do not commend themselves to you. But you hurt my feelings very +much, sir, when you apply such a harsh word as insolence to my whimsical +humor--" + +"I'll hold no argument with you," cried Irving; in his excitement his +voice rose thin and thrill. "Leave the room at once." + +Westby laid the pointer and the chalk on the shelf, blew the dust from +his fingers, and walked towards his seat. Irving took a step forward; +his face was white. + +"What do you mean!--What do you mean! I told you to leave the room." + +Westby faced him with composure through which showed a sneer; for the +first time the boy was displaying contempt; hitherto his attitude had +been jocose and cajoling. + +"I was going for my cap," he said, and his eyes flashed scornfully. +Then, regardless of the master's look, he continued past the row of his +classmates, took up his cap, and retraced his steps towards the door. +Irving stood watching him, with lips compressed in a stern line; the +line thinned even more when he saw Westby bestow on his friends a droll, +drooping wink of the left eyelid. + +And then, while all the class sat in silence, Westby did an audacious +thing--a thing that set every one except Irving off into a joyous titter. +He went out of the door doing the sailor's hornpipe,--right hand on +stomach, left hand on back, left hand on stomach, right hand on back, +and taking little skips as he alternated the position. And so, skipping +merrily, he disappeared down the corridor. + +Irving returned to his platform. His hands were trembling, and he felt +weak. When he spoke, he hardly knew his own voice. But he struggled to +control it, and said,-- + +"Scarborough, please go to the board and demonstrate your theorem." + +There was no more disorder in class that day; in fact, after Westby's +disappearance the boys were exceptionally well behaved. Slowly Irving +recovered his composure, yet the ordeal left him feeling as if he wanted +to shut himself up in his room and lie down. He knew that he had lost +command of his temper; he regretted the manner in which he had stormed +at Westby; but he thought nevertheless that the treatment had been +effective and therefore not entirely to be deplored. The boys had +thought him soft; he had shown them that he was not; and he determined +that from this time forth he would bear down upon them hard. If by +showing them amiability and kindliness he had failed to win their +respect, he would now compel it by ferocity. He would henceforth show no +quarter to any malefactor. + +Walking up to his room, he fell in with Barclay, who was also returning +from a class. + +"What is the extreme penalty one can inflict on a boy who misbehaves?" +he asked. + +"For a single act?" asked Barclay. + +"For one that's a climax of others--insolence, disobedience, disorder--all +heaped into one." + +Irving spoke hotly, and Barclay glanced at him with a sympathetic +interest. + +"Well," said Barclay, "three sheets and six marks off in decorum is +about the limit. After that happens to a boy two or three times, the +rector is likely to take a hand.--If you don't mind my saying it, +though--in my opinion it's a mistake to start in by being extreme." + +"In ordinary cases, perhaps." Irving's tone did not invite questioning, +and he did not confide to Barclay what extraordinary case he had under +consideration. + +When he reached his room, he wrote out on a slip of paper, "Westby, +insolence and disorder in class, three sheets," and laid the paper on +his desk. Then he undertook to correct the exercises in geometry which +had been the fruit of the Sixth Form's labors in the last hour; but +after going through five or six of them, his mind wandered; it reverted +uneasily to the thought of his future relations with those boys. He rose +and paced about the room, and hardened his heart. He would be just as +strict and stern and severe with them all as he possibly could be. When +he had them well trained, he might attempt to win their liking--if that +seemed any longer worth having! It did not seem so to him now; all he +wanted to know now was that he had awakened in them respect and fear. + +Respect and fear--could he have inspired those, by his excitable +shriekings in the class room, by his lack of self-control in dormitory +and at the dinner table, by his incompetence when confronted with a +roast of beef! Each incident that recurred to him was of a kind to bring +with it the sting of mortification; his cheeks tingled. He must at least +learn how to perform the simple duties expected of a master; he could +not afford to continue giving exhibitions of ignorance and incompetence. + +Moved by this impulse, he descended to the kitchen--precincts which he +had never before entered and in which his appearance created at first +some consternation. The cook, however, was obliging; and when he had +confessed himself the incapable one who had sent out the mutilated beef +to be carved, she was most reassuring in her speech, and taking the cold +remains of a similar cut from the ice chest, she gave him an object +lesson. She demonstrated to him how he should begin the attack, how he +might foil the bone that existed only to baffle, how slice after slice +might fall beneath his sure and rapid slashes. + +"I see," said Irving, taking the knife and fork from her and making some +imaginary passes. "The fork so--the knife so. And you will always be sure +to have a sharp carving knife for me--very sharp?" + +The cook smiled and promised, and he extravagantly left her +contemplating a dollar bill. + +Shortly after he had returned to his room the bell on the Study building +rang, announcing the end of the morning session. There was half an hour +before luncheon; soon the boys came tramping up the stairs and past +Irving's closed door. Soon also a racketing began in the corridors; +Irving suspected an intention to bait him still further; it was +probably Westby once again. He waited until the noise became too great +to be ignored--shouting and battering and scuffling; then he went forth +to quell it. + +To his surprise Westby was not engaged in the disturbance--was, in fact, +not visible. Collingwood, with his back turned, was in the act of +hurling a football to the farther end of the corridor, where Scarborough +and Morrill and Dennison were gathered. The forward pass was new in +football this year, and although the playing season had not yet begun, +Irving had already seen fellows practicing for it, in front of the Study +and behind the dormitory. Collingwood, he knew, was captain of the +school football eleven, and naturally had all the latest developments of +the game, such as the forward pass, very much on his mind. Still that +was no excuse for playing football in the corridor. + +Morrill had caught the ball, and as Irving approached, undertook to +return it. But it ricochetted against the wall and bounced down at +Collingwood's feet. Collingwood seized it and was poising it in his hand +for another throw when Irving spoke behind him--sharply, for he was +mindful of his resolve to be severe:-- + +"No more of that, Collingwood." + +The boy turned eagerly and said,-- + +"Oh, Mr. Upton, I'm just getting on to how to do it. Here, let me show +you. You take it this way, along the lacings--the trouble is, my hand's +not quite long enough to get a good grip--and then you take it like +this--" + +"Yes," said Irving coldly; he had an idea that Collingwood had adopted +Westby's method and was engaged in chaffing him. "You needn't show me." + +And he turned abruptly and went into his room, closing the door behind +him. + +Collingwood stood, looking round over his shoulder after Irving and +holding the ball out in the arrested attitude of one about to throw. On +his face was an expression of utter amazement, which rapidly gave place +to indignation. Collingwood had a temper, and sometimes--even when he +was not on the football field--it flared up. + +"Of all the chumps!" he muttered; and he turned, and poising the ball +again, flung it with all his strength at the master's door. It went +straight to the mark, crashed against the upper panel with a tremendous +bang, and rebounded to Collingwood's feet. + +Irving opened the door and came out with a leap. + +"Collingwood," he cried, and his voice was quivering as it had quivered +that morning in class, "did you throw that ball?" + +"I did," said Collingwood. + +"Very well. I shall report you. I will have no more of this insolence." + +He swung round and shut himself again in his room. The fellows at the +other end of the corridor had stood aghast; now they came hurrying up. +Collingwood was laughing. + +"Kiddy's getting to be a regular lion," he said, and when Morrill and +Dennison were for expressing their indignation, he only laughed the +more. + +It was not very pleasant for Irving at luncheon. Westby gave him an +amused glance when he came in--more amused than hostile--and Irving +preserved his dignity by returning an unflinching look. Westby made no +further overtures for a while; the other boys chattered among +themselves, about football and tennis, and Irving sat silent at the head +of the table. At last, however, Westby turned to him. + +"Mr. Upton," said Westby deferentially, "how would you explain this? +There's a dog, and he must be doing one of two things; either he's +running or he's not running. If he's not doing the one, he is doing the +other, isn't he?" + +"I suppose so," said Irving. + +"Well, he's not running. Therefore--he is running. How do you explain +that, Mr. Upton?" + +Irving smiled feebly; the other boys were thinking it over with puzzled +faces. + +"That's an old quibble," said Irving. "The alternative for running is +not running. Therefore when he's not running--he's _not_ running." + +"I don't see that that explains it," answered Westby. "That's just +making a statement--but it isn't logic." + +"He's not running is the negative of he's running; he's not not-running +is the negative of he's not running--" + +"Then," said Westby, "how fast must a dog travel that is not not-running +to catch a dog that is not exactly running but only perhaps?" + +The boys laughed; Irving retorted, "That's a problem that you might work +out on the blackboard sometime." + +Thereupon Westby became silent, and Irving more than half repented of +his speech; he knew that in its reference it had been ill-natured. + +He noticed later in the day when he went up to the dormitory that the +boys tiptoed about the corridors and conversed in whispers; there was an +extravagant air of quiet. When they went down to supper, they tiptoed +past Irving's room in single file, saying in unison, "Sh! Sh! Sh!" They +all joined in this procession--from Collingwood to Allison. Irving felt +that he had taken Allison's place as the laughing-stock, the butt of the +dormitory. + +In the evening they came to bid him good-night--not straggling up as they +usually did, but in a delegation, expectant and amused. Westby and +Collingwood were in the van when Irving opened his door in response to +the knock. + +"We didn't know whether you'd shake hands with two such reprobates or +not," said Westby. "We thought it wasn't quite safe to come up alone--so +we've brought a bodyguard." + +Irving did not smile, though, all the boys were grinning. He shook hands +formally with Collingwood, then with Westby, then with the others, +saying good-night to each; as they left him, they tiptoed to their +rooms. He thought grimly that, whatever might be the sentiments +entertained towards him, he would not long be living in an atmosphere of +ridicule. + +Irving had charge of the "big study," as it was called, during the hour +immediately after morning chapel. The boys filed in from chapel and +seated themselves at their desks; the members of the Sixth Form, who +were privileged to study in their rooms and therefore had no desks in +the schoolroom, occupied the stalls along the wall under the big clock. +Last of all the rector entered and, mounting the platform, read the +"reports" for the day--that is, the names of those who had transgressed +and the penalties imposed. After the reading, the Sixth Form went +upstairs to their Latin class with Mr. Barclay, and the day's work +began. + +On the morning following his encounters with Westby and with +Collingwood, Irving as usual took charge of the Study. The boys +assembled; Irving rang the bell, reducing them to quiet; Dr. Davenport +came in, mounted the platform, and took up the report book--in which +Irving had just finished transcribing his entries. + +Dr. Davenport began reading in his clear, emphatic voice, "Out of +bounds, Mason, Sterrett, Coyle, one sheet; late to study, Hart, +McQuiston, Durfee, Stratton, Kane, half a sheet; tardy to breakfast--" +and so on. None of the offenses were very serious; and the rector read +them out rapidly. But at last he paused a moment; and then, looking up +from the book, he said, with grave distinctness, "Disorderly in class +and insolent, Westby, three sheets; disorderly in dormitory and +insolent, Collingwood, three sheets." + +He closed the book; a stir, a thrill of interest, ran round the room. +For a Sixth Former to be charged with such offenses and condemned to +such punishment was rare: for Collingwood, who was in a sense the leader +of the school, to be so charged and punished was unprecedented. + +Collingwood, sitting directly under the clock, and facing so many +curious questioning eyes, turned red; Westby, standing by the door, +looked at him and smiled. At the same time, Dr. Davenport, closing the +report-book, leaned towards Irving and said quietly in his ear,-- + +"Mr. Upton, I should like to see you about those last two +reports--immediately after this study hour." + +Irving reddened; the rector's manner was not approving. + +Dr. Davenport descended from the platform and walked slowly down the +aisle. As he approached, he looked straight at Westby; and Westby +returned the look steadily--as if he was ashamed of nothing. + +The rector passed through the doorway; the Sixth Form followed; the +day's work began. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MASTER TURNS PUPIL + + +The rector received Irving with a smile. "Well," he said, "I think you +must be a believer in the maxim, 'Hit hard and hit first.' Would you +mind telling me what was the trouble?" + +"It wasn't so much any one thing," replied Irving. "It was a culmination +of little things.--Oh, I suppose I started in wrong with the fellows +somehow." + +He was silent for a moment, in dejection. + +"A good many do that," said Dr. Davenport. "There would be small +progress in the world if there never was any rectifying of false +starts." + +"I can hardly help it if I look young," said Irving. "That's one of my +troubles. I suppose I ought to avoid acting young. I haven't, +altogether. They call me Kiddy." + +"We get hardened to nicknames," observed the rector. "But often they're +affectionate. At least I like to cherish that delusion with regard to +mine; my legs have the same curve as Napoleon's, and I have been known +as 'Old Hoopo' for years." + +"But they don't call you that to your face." + +"No, not exactly. Have they been calling you 'Kiddy' to your face?" + +"It amounts to that." Irving narrated the remarks that he had overheard +in dormitory, and then described Westby's performance at the blackboard. + +"That certainly deserved rebuke," agreed the rector. "Though I think +Westby was attempting to be facetious rather than insolent; I have never +seen anything to indicate that he was a malicious boy.--What was it that +Louis Collingwood did?" + +Irving recited the offense. + +"Weren't you a little hasty in assuming that he was trying to tease +you?" asked the rector. "When he persisted in wanting to show you how +the forward pass is made? I think it's quite likely he was sincere; he's +so enthusiastic over football that it doesn't occur to him that others +may not share his interest. I don't think Collingwood was trying to be +'fresh.' Of course, he shouldn't have lost his temper and banged the +ball at your door--but I think that hardly showed malice." + +"It seemed to me it was insolent--and disorderly. I felt the fellows all +thought they could do anything with me and I would be afraid to report +them. And so I thought I'd show them I wasn't afraid." + +"At the same time, three sheets is the heaviest punishment, short of +actual suspension, that we inflict. It seems hardly a penalty for +heedless or misguided jocularity." + +"I think perhaps I was hard on Collingwood," admitted Irving. + +"If he comes to you about it--maybe you'll feel disposed to modify the +punishment. And possibly the same with Westby." + +"I don't feel sure that I've been too hard on Westby." + +The rector smiled; he was not displeased at this trace of stubbornness. + +"Well, I won't advise you any further about that. Use your own judgment. +It takes time for a young man to get his bearings in a place like +this.--If you don't mind my saying it," added the rector mildly, +"couldn't you be a little more objective in your interests?" + +"You mean," said Irving, "less--less self-centred?" + +"That's it." The rector smiled. + +"I'll try," said Irving humbly. + +"All right; good luck." The rector shook hands with him and turned to +his desk. + +There was no disturbance in the Mathematics class that day. Irving hoped +that after the hour Westby and Collingwood might approach him to discuss +the justice of the reports which he had given them, and so offer him an +opportunity of lightening the punishment. But in this he was +disappointed. Nor did they come to him in the noon recess--the usual time +for boys who felt themselves wronged to seek out the masters who had +wronged them. + +Irving debated with himself the advisability of going to the two boys +and voluntarily remitting part of their task. But he decided against +this; to make the advances and the concession both would be to concede +too much. + +At luncheon there was an unpleasant moment. No sooner had the boys sat +down than Blake, a Fifth Former, called across the table to Westby,-- + +"Say, Westby, who was it that gave you three sheets?" + +Westby scowled and replied,-- + +"Mr. Upton." + +"What for?" + +"Oh, ask him." + +Irving reddened, aware of the glancing, curious gaze of every boy at the +table. There was an interesting silence, relieved at last by the +appearance of the boy with the mail. Among the letters, Irving found one +from Lawrence; he opened it with a sense that it afforded him a +momentary refuge. The unintended irony of the first words drew a bitter +smile to his lips. + +"You are certainly a star teacher," Lawrence wrote, "and I know now what +a success you must be making with your new job. I have just learned that +I passed all the examinations--which is more than you or I ever dreamed I +could do--so I am now a freshman at Harvard without conditions. And it's +all due to you; I don't believe there's another man on earth that could +have got me through with such a record and in so short a time." + +Irving forgot the irony, forgot Westby and Collingwood and the amused, +whispering boys. Happiness had suddenly flashed down and caught him up +and borne him away to his brother. Lawrence's whole letter was so gay, +so exultant, so grateful that Irving, when he finished it, turned back +again to the first page. When at last he raised his eyes from it, they +dwelt unseeingly upon the boys before him; they held his brother's +image, his brother's smile. And from the vision he knew that there at +least he had justified himself, whatever might be his failure now; and +if he had succeeded once, he could succeed again. + +Irving became aware that Westby was treating him with cheerful +indifference--ignoring him. He did not care; the letter had put into him +new courage. And pretty soon there woke in him along with this courage a +gentler spirit; it was all very well for Westby, a boy and therefore +under discipline, to exhibit a stiff and haughty pride; but it was +hardly admirable that a master should maintain that attitude. The +punishment to which he had sentenced Westby and Collingwood was, it +appeared, too harsh; if they were so proud that they would not appeal to +him to modify it, he would make a sacrifice in the interest of justice. + +So after luncheon he followed Westby and spoke to him outside of the +dining-room. + +"Westby," he said, "do you think that considering the circumstances +three sheets is excessive?" + +Westby looked surprised; then he shrugged his shoulders. + +"I'm not asking any favors," he replied. + +Irving laughed. "No," he said, "I see you're not. But I'm afraid I must +deny you the pleasure of martyrdom. I'll ask you to take a note to Mr. +Elwood--he's in charge of the Study, isn't he? I'll tell him that you're +to write a sheet and a half instead of three sheets." + +He drew a note-book from his pocket and tore out one of the pages. +Westby looked at him curiously--as if in an effort to determine just how +poor-spirited this sudden surrender was. Irving spoke again before +writing. + +"By the way, will you please ask Collingwood to come here?" + +When Westby returned with Collingwood, Irving had the note written and +handed it to him; there was no excuse for Westby to linger. He went over +and waited by the door, while Irving said,-- + +"Collingwood, why didn't you come up and ask me to reduce your report? +Didn't you think it was unfair?" + +"Yes," Collingwood answered promptly. + +"Well, then--why didn't you come to me and say so?" + +Collingwood thought a moment. + +"Well," he said, "you had such fun in soaking me that I wasn't going to +give you the additional satisfaction of seeing me cry baby." + +"I'll learn something about boys sometime--if you fellows will keep on +educating me," observed Irving. "I think your performance of yesterday +deserves about a sheet; we'll make it that." + +He scribbled a note and handed it to the boy. + +"Thank you, Mr. Upton." Collingwood tucked the note into his pocket with +a friendly smile, and then joined Westby. + +"Knock you down to half a sheet?" asked Westby, as they departed in the +direction of the Study, where they were to perform their tasks. + +"No; a sheet." + +"Mine's one and a half now. What got into him?" + +"He's not without sense," said Collingwood. + +"Ho!" Westby was derisive. "He's soft. He got scared. He knew he'd gone +too far--and he was afraid to stand by his guns." + +"I don't think so. I think he's just trying to do the right thing." + +It was unfortunate for Irving that later in the afternoon Carter of the +Fifth Form--who played in the banjo club with Westby--was passing the +Study building just as Westby was coming out from his confinement. + +"Hello, Wes!" said Carter. "Thought you were in for three sheets; how do +you happen to be at large so soon?" + +"Kiddy made it one and a half--without my asking him," said Westby. + +"And Collingwood the same?" + +"He made his only a sheet." + +"That's it," said Carter shrewdly. "I was waiting to see the rector this +morning; the door was open, and he had Kiddy in there with him. I guess +he was lecturing him on those reports; I guess he told him he'd have to +take off a couple of sheets." + +"I shouldn't wonder," said Westby. "I don't believe old Hoopo would +have interfered much on my account,--but I guess he couldn't stand for +Lou Collingwood getting three sheets. And Kiddy, the fox, tried to make +us think he was being magnanimous!" + +Westby chuckled over his humorous discovery, and as soon as possible +imparted it to Collingwood. + +"Oh, well, what if the rector did make him do it?" said Collingwood. +"The way he did it shows he's all right--" + +"Trying to get the credit with us for being just and generous!" observed +Westby. "Oh, I don't mind; of course it's only Kiddy." + +And it was Westby's view of the matter which most of the boys heard and +credited. So the improvement in the general attitude for which Irving +had hoped was hardly to be noticed. He had some gratification the next +Sunday when the roast beef was brought on and he carved it with +creditable ease and dispatch; the astonishment of the whole table, and +especially of Westby and Carroll, was almost as good as applause. He +could not resist saying, in a casual way, "The knife seems to be sharp +this Sunday." And he felt that for once Westby was nonplussed. + +But the days passed, and Irving felt that he was not getting any nearer +to the boys. At his table the talk went on before him, mainly about +athletics, about college life, about Europe and automobiles,--all topics +from which he seemed strangely remote. It needed only the talk of these +experienced youths to make him realize that he had gone through college +without ever touching "college life,"--its sports, its social diversions, +its adventures. It had been for him a life in a library, in classrooms, +in his own one shabby little room,--a cloistered life; in the hard work +of it and the successful winning of his way he had been generally +contented and happy. But he could not talk to these boys about "college +life" as it appeared to them; and they very soon, perhaps by common +consent, eliminated him from the conversation. Nor was he able to cope +with Westby in the swift, glancing monologues which flowed on and on +sometimes, to the vast amusement of the audience. Often to Irving these +seemed not very funny, and he did not know which was the more trying--to +sit grave and unconcerned in the midst of so much mirth or to keep his +mouth stretched in an insincere, wooden smile. Whichever he did, he felt +that Westby always was taking notes, to ridicule him afterwards to the +other boys. + +One habit which Westby had was that of bringing a newspaper to supper +and taking the table with him in an excursion over headlines and +advertising columns. His mumbling manner, his expertness in bringing out +distinctly a ridiculous or incongruous sentence, and his skill in +selecting such sentences at a glance always drew attention and applause; +he had the comedian's technique. + +The boys at the neighboring tables, hearing so much laughter and seeing +that Westby was provoking it, would stop eating and twist round and tilt +back their chairs and strain their ears eagerly for some fragment of the +fun. At last at the head table Mr. Randolph took cognizance of this +daily boisterousness, spoke to Irving about it, and asked him to curb +it. Irving thereupon suggested to Westby that he refrain from reading +his newspaper at table. + +"But all the fellows depend on me to keep them _au courant_, as it +were." Westby was fond of dropping into French in his arguments with +Irving. + +"You will have to choose some other time for it," Irving answered. "I +understand that there is a rule against reading newspapers at table, and +I think it must be observed." + +"Oh, very well,--_de bon coeur_," said Westby. + +The next day at supper he appeared without his newspaper. But in the +course of the meal he drew from his pocket some newspaper clippings +which he had pasted together and which he began to read in his usual +manner. Soon the boys of the table were laughing, soon the boys of the +adjacent tables were twisting round and trying to share in the +amusement. Westby read in his rapid consecutive way,-- + +"'Does no good unless taken as directed--pain in the back, loins, or +region of the kidneys--danger signal nature hangs out--um--um--um. Mother +attacks son with razor, taking tip of left ear. Catcher Dan McQuilligan +signs with the Red Sox--The Woman Beautiful--Bright Eyes: Every woman is +entitled to a clear, brilliant complexion--um--if she is not so blessed, +it is usually her own fault--um--Candidate for pulchritude: reliable +beauty shop--do not clip the eyelashes--um.--Domestic science column--Baked +quail: pick, draw, and wipe the bird outside and inside; use a wet +cloth.--No, Hortense, it is not necessary to offer a young man +refreshments during an evening call.'" + +Westby was going on and on; he had a hilarious audience now of three +tables. From the platform at the end of the dining-room Mr. Randolph +looked down and shook his head--shook it emphatically; and Irving, seeing +it, understood the signal. + +"Westby," said Irving. "Westby!" He had to raise his voice. + +"Yes, sir?" Westby looked up innocently. + +"I will have to ask you to discontinue your reading." + +"But this is not a newspaper." + +"It's part of one." + +"Yes, sir, but the rule is against bringing newspapers to table--not +against bringing newspaper clippings to table." + +"The rule's been changed," said Irving. "It now includes clippings." + +"You see how it is, fellows." Westby turned to the others. +"Persecuted--always persecuted. If I'm within the rules--they change the +rules to soak me. Well,"--he folded up his clippings and put them in his +pocket,--"the class in current topics is dismissed. But instead Mr. Upton +has very kindly consented to entertain us this evening--some of his +inimitable chit-chat--" + +"I wouldn't always try to be facetious, Westby," said Irving. + +"I beg your pardon, sir," replied Westby urbanely. "If I have wounded +your sensibilities--I would not do that--never--_jamais--pas du tout_." + +Irving said nothing; it seemed to him that Westby always had the last +word; it seemed to him as if Westby was always skillfully tripping him +up, executing a derisive flourish over his prostrate form, and then +prancing away to the cheers of the populace. + +But there were no more violent encounters, such as had taken place in +the class-room; Westby never quite crossed the line again; and Irving +controlled his temper on threatening occasions. These occurred in +dormitory less often; the fine weather and the fall sports--football and +tennis and track athletics--kept the boys out-doors. On rainy afternoons +there was apt to be some noise and disorder--usually there was what was +termed an "Allison hunt," which took various forms, but which, whether +resulting in the dismemberment of the boy's room or the pursuit and +battery of him with pillows along the corridors, invariably required +Irving's interference to quell it. This task of interference, though it +was one that he came to perform more and more capably, never grew less +distasteful or less humiliating; he saw always the row of faces wearing +what he construed as an impudent grin. What seemed to him curious was +the fact that Allison after a fashion enjoyed--at least did not +resent--the outrages of which he was the subject; after them he would be +found sitting amicably with his tormentors, drinking their chocolate and +eating their crackers and jam. This was so different from his own +attitude after he had been teased that Irving could not understand it. +After studying the case, he concluded that the "Allison hunts" were not +prompted by any hatred of the subject, but by the fact merely that he +was big, clumsy, good-natured, slow-witted--easy to make game of--and +especially by the fact that when aroused he showed a certain joyous rage +in his own defense. But Irving saw no way of learning a lesson from +Allison. + +As the days went on, the sense of his isolation in the School became +more oppressive. He had thought that if only the fellows would let him +alone, he would be contented; he found that was not so. They let him +alone now entirely; he envied those masters who were popular--whom boys +liked to visit on Sunday evenings, who were consulted about +contributions to the _Mirror_, the school paper, who were invited to +meetings of the Stylus, the literary society, who coached the football +elevens or went into the Gymnasium and did "stunts" with the boys on the +flying rings. + +One day when he was walking down to the athletic field with Mr. Barclay, +he said something that hinted his wistful and unhappy state of mind. +Barclay had suspected it and had been waiting for such an opportunity. + +"Why don't you make some interest for yourself which would put you on a +footing with the boys--outside of the class-room and the dormitory?" he +asked. + +"I wish I could. But how?" + +"You ought to be able to work up an interest of some sort," said Barclay +vaguely. + +"I don't know anything about athletics; I'm not musical, I don't seem to +be able to be entertaining and talk to the boys. I guess I'm just a +grind. I shall never be of much use as a teacher; it's bad enough to +feel that you're not up to your job. It's worse when it makes you feel +that you're even less up to the job that you hoped to prepare for." + +"How's that?" + +"I meant to study law; I'd like to be a lawyer. But what's the use? If I +can't learn to handle boys, how can I ever hope to handle men?--and +that's what a lawyer has to do, I suppose." + +"Look here," said Barclay. "You're still young; if you've learned what's +the matter with you--and you seem to have--you've learned more than most +fellows of your age. It's less than a month that you've been here, and +you've never had any experience before in dealing with boys. Why should +you expect to know it all at once?" + +"I suppose there's something in that. But I feel that I haven't it in me +ever to get on with them." + +"You're doing better now than you did at first; they don't look on you +entirely as a joke now, do they?" + +"Perhaps not.--Oh," Irving broke out, "I know what the trouble is--I want +to be liked--and I suppose I'm not the likeable kind." + +Barclay did not at once dispute this statement, and Irving was beginning +to feel hurt. + +"The point is," said Barclay at last, "that to be liked by boys you've +got to like them. If you hold off from them and distrust them and try to +wrap yourself up in a cloak of dignity or mystery, they won't like you +because they won't know you. If you show an interest in them and their +interests, you can be as stern with them as justice demands, and they +won't lay it up against you. But if you don't show an interest--why, you +can't expect them to have an interest in you." + +They turned a bend in the road; the athletic field lay spread out before +them. In different parts of it half a dozen football elevens were +engaged in practice; on the tennis courts near the athletic house boys +in white trousers and sweaters were playing; on the track encircling +the football field other boys more lightly clad were sprinting or +jogging round in practice for long-distance runs; a few sauntered about +as spectators, with hands in their overcoat pockets. + +"There," said Barclay, indicating a group of these idle observers, "you +can at least do that." + +"But what's the use?" + +"Make yourself a critic; pick out eight or ten fellows to watch +especially. In football or tennis or running. It doesn't much matter. If +they find you're taking an intelligent interest in what they're doing, +they'll be pleased. Westby, for instance, is running; he's entered for +the hundred yards in the fall games,--likely to win it, too. Westby's +your greatest trial, isn't he? Then why don't you make a point of +watching him?--Not too obviously, of course. Come round with me; I'm +coaching some of the runners for the next half-hour, and then +Collingwood wants me to give his ends a little instruction." + +"Dear me! If I'd only been an athlete instead of a student in college!" +sighed Irving whimsically. + +"You don't need to be much of an athlete to coach; I never was so very +much," confided Barclay. "But there are things you can learn by looking +on." They had reached the edge of the track; Barclay clapped his hands. +"No, no, Roberts!" The boy who was practising the start for a sprint +looked up. "You mustn't reel all over the track that way when you start; +you'd make a foul. Keep your elbows in, and run straight." + +Irving followed Barclay round and tried to grasp the significance of his +comments. Dennison came by at a trot. + +"Longer stride, Dennison! Your running's choppy! Lengthen out, lengthen +out! That's better.--I have it!" + +Barclay turned suddenly to Irving. + +"What?" + +"The thing for you to do. We'll make you an official at the track games +next week. That will give you a standing at once--show everybody that you +are really a keen follower of sport--or want to be." + +"But what can I do? I suppose an official has to do something." + +"You can be starter. That will put you right in touch with the fellows +that are entered." + +"Would I have a revolver? I've never fired a gun off in my life." + +"Then it's time you did. Of course you'll have a revolver. And you'll be +the noisiest, most important man on the field. That's what you need to +make yourself; wake the fellows up to what you really are!--Now I must be +off to my football men; you'd better hang round here and pick up what +you can about running. And remember--you're to act as starter." + +"If you'll see me through." + +"I'll see you through." + +Barclay waved his hand and swung off across the field. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE PENALTY FOR A FOUL + + +How it was managed Irving did not know, but on the morning of the day +when the fall handicap track games were held Scarborough lingered after +the Sixth Form Geometry class. Scarborough was president of the Athletic +Association. + +"We want somebody to act as starter for the races this afternoon, Mr. +Upton," said Scarborough. "I wondered if you would help us out." + +"I should be delighted," said Irving. "I've not had much experience--" + +"Oh, it's easy enough; Mr. Barclay, I guess, can tell you all that has +to be done. Thank you very much." + +It was quite as if Irving was the one who was conferring the favor; he +liked Scarborough for the way in which the boy had made the suggestion. +He always had liked him, for Scarborough had never given any trouble; he +seemed more mature than most of the boys, more mature even than Louis +Collingwood. He was not so popular, because he maintained a certain +dignity and reserve; even Westby seemed to stand somewhat in awe of +Scarborough. He was, as Irving understood, the best oarsman in the +school, captain of the school crew, besides being the crack shot-putter +and hammer-thrower; if he and Collingwood had together chosen to throw +their influence against a new master, life would indeed have been hard. +But Scarborough's attitude had been one of entire indifference; he would +stand by and smile sometimes when Westby was engaged in chaffing Irving, +and then, as if tired of it, he would turn his back and walk away. + +Irving visited Barclay at his house during the noon recess, borrowed his +revolver, and received the last simple instructions. + +"Make sure always that they're all properly 'set' before you fire. If +there's any fouling at the start, you can call them back and penalize +the fellow that fouled--a yard to five yards, according to your +discretion. But there's not likely to be any fouling; in most of the +events the fellows are pretty well separated by their handicaps." + +"I'll be careful," said Irving. He inspected the revolver. "It's all +loaded?" + +"Yes--and there are some blank cartridges. Now, you're all equipped. If +any questions come up--I'll be down at the field; I'm to be one of the +judges and you can call on me." + +At luncheon Irving entered into the talk about the sports to come, +without giving any intimation as to the part which he was to play. + +"They've given Heath only thirty yards over Lou Collingwood," complained +Westby. + +"I thought Lou wasn't going to run, because of football; he hasn't been +practising," said Carroll. + +"I know, but the Pythians have got hold of him, and Dennison's persuaded +him it's his duty to run. And I guess he's good enough without practice +to win from scratch--giving that handicap!" + +"Is Dennison the captain of the Pythian track team?" asked Irving. + +"Yes." + +"And who's captain of yours--the Corinthians?" + +"Ned Morrill." + +"Morrill's going awfully fast in the quarter now," said Blake. "I timed +him yesterday." + +"They've handicapped him pretty hard. And he's apt to be just a shade +late in starting--just as Dave Pratt is apt to be just a shade previous," +said Westby. "It ought to be a close race between those two." + +"How much does Pratt get over Morrill?" + +"Five yards. And if he steals another yard on the start--" + +"Dave wouldn't steal it," exclaimed Blake indignantly. "You Corinthians +would accuse a man of anything!" + +"Oh, I don't mean that he'd do it intentionally," replied Westby. "But +he's so overanxious and eager always--and he's apt to get away without +realizing--without the starter realizing.--I wonder who's going to be +starter, by the way?" + +Nobody knew; Irving did not enlighten them. + +Westby bethought him to ask the same question of Scarborough half an +hour later, when they were dressing in the athletic house. + +"Mr. Upton has consented to serve," said Scarborough gravely. + +Westby thumped himself down on a bench, dangling one spiked running shoe +by the string. + +"What! Kiddy!" + +"The same," said Scarborough. + +Westby said nothing more; he stooped and put on his shoe, and then he +rose and came over to Scarborough, who was untangling a knot. He passed +his hand over Scarborough's head and remarked wonderingly, "Feels +perfectly normal--strange--strange!" + +Morrill came in from outside, clapping his hands. "Corinthians out for +the mile--Heath--Price--Bolton--Edwards--all ready?" + +The four named answered by clumping on their spikes to the door. + +A moment later came the Pythian call from Dennison; Collingwood and +Morse responded. The first event of the day was about to begin. Westby +leisurely brushed his hair, which had been disarranged in the process of +undressing; he was like a cat in respect of his hair and could not +endure to have it rumpled. When it was parted and plastered down to his +satisfaction, he slipped a dressing gown on over his running clothes and +went out of doors. + +The fall track meet was not of the same importance as that in the +spring, which was a scratch event. But there were cups for prizes, and +there was always much rivalry between the two athletic clubs, the +Corinthians and Pythians, as to which could show the most winners. So +for that day the football players rested from their practice; many of +them in fact were entered in the sports--though, like Collingwood, +without any special preparation. The school turned out to look on and +cheer; when Westby left the athletic house, he saw the boys lined up on +the farther side of the track. The field was reserved for contestants +and officials; already many figures in trailing dressing gowns were +wandering over it, and off at one side three or four were having a +preliminary practice in putting the shot. + +But most of those who were privileged to be on the field stood at the +farther side, where the start for the mile run was about to take place. +Westby saw Randolph and Irving kneeling by the track, measuring off the +handicap distances with a tape line; Barclay walked along it, and +summoned the different contestants to their places. By the time that +Westby had crossed the field, the six runners were at their stations; +there was an interval of a hundred and forty yards between Collingwood, +at scratch, and young Price of the Fourth Form. + +Westby came up and stood near Irving, and fixed him with a whimsical +smile. + +"Quite a new departure for you, isn't it, Mr. Upton?" he said. + +"I thought I'd come down and see if you can run as fast as you can talk, +Westby." Irving drew out the revolver, somewhat ostentatiously. + +"I hope you won't shoot any one with that; it looks to me as if you +ought to be careful how you handle it, sir." + +"Thank you for the advice, Westby." Irving turned from the humorist, and +raised his voice. "All ready for the mile now! On your marks! Set!" + +He held the pistol aloft and fired, and the six runners trotted away. +There is nothing very exciting about the start of a mile run, and Irving +felt that the intensity with which he had given the commands had been +rather absurd. It was annoying to think that Westby had been standing by +and finding perhaps in his nervousness a delectable subject for mockery +and derision. + +Irving walked down the track towards the finish line. He found Barclay +there holding the watch. + +"You seem to be discharging your arduous duties successfully," said +Barclay. + +"Oh, so far." Irving looked up the track; the foremost runners were +rounding the curve at the end of their first lap. He had a moment's +longing to be one of them, stretching his legs like them, trying out his +strength and speed on the smooth cinder track against others as eager as +himself. He had never done anything of that kind; hardly until now had +he ever felt the desire. Why it should come upon him now so poignantly +he did not know; but on this warm October afternoon, when the air and +the sunshine were as soft as in early September, he wished that he might +be a boy again and do the things which as a boy he had never done. To be +still young and looking on at the sports and the strife of youth, sports +and strife in which he had never borne a part--there was something +humiliating and ignoble in the thought. If he could only be for the +moment the little Fourth Former there, Price--now flying on in the lead +yet casting many fearful backward glances!--Poor child, even Irving's +inexperienced eyes told him that he could never keep that pace. + +"Go it, kid!" cried three or four older boys good-naturedly, as Price +panted by; and he threw back his head and came down more springily upon +his toes, trying in response to the cheer to display his best form. + +After him came Bolton and Edwards, side by side; and Collingwood, who +started at scratch, had moved up a little on Morse and Heath. Heath was +considered the strongest runner in the event for the Corinthians, and +they urged him on with cries of "Heath! Heath!" as he made the turn. +"You've got 'em, Lou!" shouted a group of Pythians the next moment as +Collingwood passed. It was early in the race for any great demonstration +of excitement. + +It was Price whom Irving watched with most sympathy. When he got round +on the farther side of the field, his pace had slackened perceptibly; +Bolton and Edwards passed him and kept on widening the distance; Morse +and Heath passed him at the next turn; and when he came down to the turn +in front of the crowd, running heavily, Collingwood overhauled and +passed him. It was rather an unfeeling thing for Collingwood to do, +right there in front of the crowd, but he was driven to it by force of +circumstances; the four other runners were holding on in a way he did +not like. The cries of encouragement to him and to Heath were more +urgent this time; Bolton and Edwards and Morse had their supporters too. + +Westby ran along the field beside Price, and Irving felt a moment's +indignation; was Westby taunting the plucky and exhausted small boy? And +then Irving saw that he was not, and at the same instant Barclay turned +to him and said,-- + +"Price is Westby's young cousin." + +Irving stood near enough to hear Westby say, "Good work, Tom; you set +the pace just right; it'll kill Collingwood. Now drop out." + +Price shook his head and kept on; Westby trotted beside him, saying +anxiously, "There's no use in your wearing yourself all out." But Price +continued at his determined, pounding trot. + +"He's a plucky kid," said Barclay. + +"Rather nice of Westby to take such an interest," said Irving. + +Barclay nodded. From that point on it became a close and interesting +race, yet every now and then Irving's eyes strayed to the small figure +toiling farther and farther to the rear--but always toiling. Westby stood +on the edge of the green oval, not far away, and when on the third lap +Heath came by in the lead, ran with him a few moments and shouted advice +and encouragement in his ear; he had to shout, for all the Corinthians +were shouting for Heath now, and the Pythians were shouting just as +loudly for Collingwood, who, pocketed by the two other Corinthians, +Bolton and Edwards, was running fifteen yards behind. Morse, the only +Pythian to support Collingwood, was hopelessly out of it. + +Westby left Heath and turned his eyes backward. His cousin came to the +turn, white-faced, and mouth hanging open; the crowd clapped the boy. +"Quit it, Tom!" cried Westby. "Quit it; there's no sense--" but Price +went pounding on. Westby stood looking after him with a worried frown, +and then because there was a sudden shout, he turned to look at the +others. + +There, on the farther side of the field, Collingwood had at last +extricated himself from the pocket; he was running abreast of Bolton; +Edwards had fallen behind. Heath was spurting; Collingwood passed +Bolton, but in doing so did not lessen Heath's lead--a lead of fully +fifteen yards. So they came to the last turn, to the long straight-away +home-stretch; and the crowd clustered by the finish broke and ran up +alongside the track to meet them. Every one was yelling wildly--one name +or another--"Corinthian!" "Pythian!" "Heath!" "Collingwood!" + +Barclay ran across the track with one end of the tape,--the finish line; +Mr. Randolph held the other. "Collingwood! Collingwood!" rose the shout; +Irving, standing on tiptoe, saw that Collingwood was gaining, saw that +at last he and Heath were running side by side; they held together while +the crowd ran with them shouting. Irving pressed closer to the track; +Westby in his dressing gown was jumping up and down beside him, waving +his arms; Irving had to crane his neck and peer, in order to see beyond +those loose flapping sleeves. He saw the light-haired Collingwood and +the black-haired Heath, coming down with their heads back and their +teeth bared and clenched; they were only fifteen yards away. And then +Collingwood leaped ahead; it was as if he had unloosed some latent and +unconquerable spring, which hurled him in a final burst of speed across +the tape and into half a dozen welcoming arms. Heath stumbled after him, +even more in need of such friendly services; but both of them revived +very quickly when Mr. Barclay, rushing into the crowd with the watch, +cried, "Within eight seconds of the record! Both of you fellows will +break it next June." + +The other runners came gasping in--and Price was still toiling away in +the rear. He had been half a lap behind; he came now into the +home-stretch; the crowd began to laugh, and then more kindly, as he drew +nearer, to applaud. They clapped and called, "Good work, Price!" Westby +met him about fifty yards from the finish and ran with him, saying, +"You've got to stick it out now, Tom; you can't drop out now; you're all +right, old boy--lots of steam in your boiler--you'll break a record yet." +Irving caught some of the speeches. And so Westby was there when Price +crossed the line and collapsed in a heap on the track. + +It was not for long; they brought him to with water, and Westby knelt by +him fanning his face with the skirt of his dressing gown. Barclay picked +the boy up. "Oh, I'm all right, sir," said Price, and he insisted on +being allowed to walk to the athletic house alone,--which he did rather +shakily. + +Westby flirted the cinders from the skirt of his dressing gown. "Blamed +little fool," he remarked to Carroll and to Allison, who stood by. +"Wouldn't his mother give me the dickens, though, for letting him do +that!" But Irving, who heard, knew there was a ring of pride in Westby's +voice--as if Westby felt that his cousin was a credit to the family. And +Irving thought he was. + +The sports went on; not many of the runs were as exciting as that with +which the afternoon had opened. Irving passed back and forth across the +field, helped measure distances for the handicaps, and tried to be +useful. His interest had certainly been awakened. Twice in college he +had sat on the "bleachers" and viewed indifferently the track contests +between Yale and Harvard; he had had a patriotic desire to see his own +college win, but he had been indifferent to the performance of the +individuals. They had not been individuals to him--merely strange figures +performing in an arena. But here, where he knew the boys and walked +about among them, and saw the different manifestations of nervousness +and excitement, and watched the muscles in their slim legs and arms, he +became himself eager and sympathetic. He stood by when Scarborough went +on putting the shot after beating all the other competitors--went on +putting it in an attempt to break the School record. Unconsciously +Irving pressed forward to see him as he prepared for the third and last +try; unconsciously he stood with lips parted and eyes shining, +fascinated by the huge muscles that rose in Scarborough's brown arm as +he poised the weight at his shoulder and heaved it tentatively. And when +it was announced that the effort had fallen short by only a few inches, +Irving's sigh of disappointment went up with that of the boys. + +At intervals the races were run off--the two-twenty, the quarter-mile, +the half-mile, the high hurdles, the low hurdles. Irving started them +all without any mishap. The last one, the low hurdles for two hundred +and twenty yards, was exciting; the runners were all well matched and +the handicaps were small. And so, after firing the revolver, Irving +started and ran across the field as hard as he could, to be at the +finish; he arrived in time, and stood, still holding the revolver in his +hand, while Morrill and Flack and Mason raced side by side to the tape. +They finished in that order, not more than a yard apart; and Irving +rammed his revolver into his pocket and clapped his hands and cheered +with the Corinthians. + +The Pythians were now two points ahead, and there remained only one +event, the hundred yards. First place counted five points and second +place two; in these games third place did not count. So if a Corinthian +should win the hundred yards, the Corinthians would be victorious in the +meet by one point. + +There were eight entries in the hundred yards--a large number to run +without interfering with one another. But the track was wide, and two of +the boys had handicaps of ten yards, one had five yards, and one had +three. So they were spread out pretty well at the start, and +consequently the danger of interference was minimized. + +The runners threw off their dressing gowns and took their places. Drake, +Flack, Westby, and Mason lined up at scratch,--Westby having drawn the +inside place and being flanked by the two Pythians. There was a moment's +pawing of the cinders, and settling down firmly on the spikes. + +"Ready, everybody!" cried Irving. He drew the revolver from his pocket +and held it aloft. He was as excited as any of the runners; there was +the nervous thrill in his voice. "On your marks!" They put their hands +to the ground; he ran his eyes along them to see that all were placed. +"Set!" There was the instant stiffening of muscles. Then from the +revolver came a click. Irving had emptied the six chambers in starting +the other races, and had forgotten to reload. + +"Just a moment, fellows; ease off!" he called, and they all straightened +up and faced towards him questioningly. "Just till I slip in a +cartridge," Irving explained with embarrassment. + +Westby turned on him a delighted grin, and said,-- + +"Can I be of any assistance, Mr. Upton?" + +"No, thank you," said Irving, and having slipped in one cartridge, he +began filling the other chambers of the revolver. + +"It takes only one shot to start," observed Westby. + +"Yes," said Irving. "If I fire a second, it will be to call you back +because of a false start.--Now then,--all ready once more. On your marks!" +They crouched. "Set!" He fired. + +Somehow in the start Westby's foot slipped, and in trying to get clear +he lunged against Flack. Irving saw it and instantly fired a second +shot, and shouted, "Come back, come back!" The runners heeded the signal +and the shout, but as they tiptoed up the track, they looked irritated. + +"Westby, you fouled Flack." Irving spoke with some asperity. "I shall +have to set you back a yard." + +"It was an accident," Westby replied warmly. "My foot slipped. I +couldn't help myself." + +"But it was a foul," declared Irving, "and I shall have to set you back +a yard." + +"It was an accident, I tell you," repeated Westby. + +"If it was an accident, you oughtn't to set him back," said Drake, his +fellow Corinthian. + +"It's in the starter's discretion," spoke up Mason, the Pythian. + +"The penalty's a yard," affirmed Irving. + +Westby shut his lips tight and looked angrily contemptuous. Irving +measured the distance. "There," he said, "you will start there." + +Westby took the place behind the others without a word. + +"Ready now! On your marks!" + +The pistol cracked, and this time they all got away safely, and Irving +raced after them over the grass. + +From the crowd at the finish came the instant shout of names; out of the +short choppy cries two names especially emerged, "Flack! Flack! Flack!" +"Westby! Westby! Westby!" Those two were the favorites for the event. +Irving saw the scratch men forge ahead, and mingle with the handicap +runners; in the confusion of flying white figures he could not see who +were leading. But the tumult near the finish grew wild; arms and caps +were swung aloft, boys were leaping up and down; the red-haired Dennison +ran along the edge of the track, waving his arms; Morrill on the other +side did the same thing; the next moment the race had ended in a +tumultuous rush of shouting boys. + +[Illustration: AS TO WHO HAD WON, IRVING HAD NOT THE SLIGHTEST IDEA] + +As to who had won, Irving had not the slightest idea. He was hastening +up to find out--hoping that it had been Westby. And then out from the +crowd burst Westby and rushed towards him, panting, flushed, hot-eyed, +attended by Morrill and half a dozen other Corinthians. + +"I hope you're satisfied with your spite-work," said Westby. His voice +shook with passion, his eyes blazed; never before had Irving seen him +when he had so lost control of himself. "You lost me that race--by half a +yard! I hope you're pleased with yourself!" + +He surveyed Irving scornfully, breathing hard, then turned his back and +strode off to the athletic house. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE WORM BEGINS TO TURN + + +After the charge which Westby had flung at him so furiously, Irving +looked in amazement to the other boys for an explanation. They were all +Corinthians, and he saw gloom and resentment in their faces. + +"I think it was pretty rough, Mr. Upton, to penalize him for an +unintentional foul," said Morrill. "He'd have beaten Flack if they'd +started even." + +"But it _was_ a foul," protested Irving. "So I had to penalize him. I +made it as small a penalty as I could." + +"You didn't have to penalize him unless you wanted to," said Morrill +grimly. "Of course you had a perfect right to do as you pleased, only--" +He shrugged his shoulders and walked away, followed by the other +Corinthians. + +Irving stood stricken. So this was the outcome; in seeking to be +sympathetic and to be understood, he had only caused himself somehow to +be more hated and despised. Bitterness rose within him, bitterness +against Westby, against Morrill, against boys in general, against the +school. And only an hour ago, from what he had seen and heard, he had +felt that he could like Westby, and had been not without some hope that +Westby might some time like him. + +He saw Barclay standing with Mr. Randolph by the table on which were the +prize cups; Barclay was bending over, arranging them, and the boys were +gathering on the opposite side of the track, being "policed back" by the +half-dozen members of the athletic committee. Evidently the award of +prizes was to be made at once, and either Barclay or Randolph was to +hand out the cups--perhaps also to make a speech. But Irving could not +wait; he must satisfy himself of his doubts and fears, and so he hurried +forward and touched Barclay on the shoulder. + +"Just a moment, please," he said, as Barclay turned. "Did I do anything +wrong?" + +"You penalized Westby a yard for fouling, I heard; is that so?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, you were within your rights. But if it was obviously an +unintentional foul, I shouldn't have been so strict." + +"I misunderstood what you told me," sighed Irving. "I thought that in +case of foul a fellow _had_ to be penalized." + +"Oh, no." Barclay was busy; he had to think up something to say, by way +of a speech, and he turned and began fussing again with the cups. + +Irving walked away. Even his friend Barclay was not sympathetic, did not +understand the seriousness of what had happened. He could not stay +longer to be the target of hostile, vengeful eyes; he felt that half the +boys there were blaming him in their hearts for the defeat of their +team--and that the others had no gratitude to him for their victory. Not +that it would have made him feel any better if they had; he had only +wanted and tried to be fair. + +He walked away from the field, crossed the track, and passed round into +the avenue that led up to the School. When he had gone as far as the +bend where from behind the cluster of trees the School buildings became +visible, he heard the pleasant ripple of laughter from the crowd. Some +one, probably Barclay, was making a speech; to think of being able to +stand before boys and make them laugh like that! It seemed to Irving +that he had never before known what envy was. + +He spent a mournful hour in his room; then, hearing footsteps on the +stairs, he closed his door. The boys were returning from the field; he +felt sure there would be remarks about him by Westby and Morrill and +other Corinthians up and down the corridor, and he preferred not to hear +them. To his surprise there was rather less disturbance than usual; +perhaps the boys were too tired after their exciting and active +afternoon to indulge in noisy skylarking. So Irving did not have to +emerge from his solitude until the supper bell rang. Even then he +waited until all the boys had passed his door and were clattering down +the stairs. Yet as he descended, Westby's indignant voice floated up to +him,-- + +"Just because I guyed him--he felt he had to get even." + +At supper Westby did not look at Irving. One of the boys, Blake, made a +comment; he said,-- + +"That was a mighty good race you ran, Westby; hard luck you were +handicapped." + +"You can call it hard luck if you want," said Westby. + +"How did it happen, anyway?" Blake asked, quite innocently. + +"Oh, don't ask _me_," said Westby. + +Three or four of the boys who did know glanced slyly at Irving, and +Irving, though he had meant to say nothing, spoke up; there was +electricity in the air. + +"Westby was unfortunate enough to foul Flack at the start; that was all +there was to it," he said. "I saw it and set him back a yard. I was +under the impression that in case of foul a penalty had to be +imposed--and I made the penalty as light as possible." + +He felt that this statement ought to appease any reasonable boy. But +Westby was not in a reasonable mood. He paid no attention to Irving; he +addressed the table. + +"I told Scarborough he might have known things would be botched +somehow." + +"Why?" asked Blake. + +"Oh, you've got to have officials who know their business." + +There was an interval of silence at the table; Westby, having fired his +shot, sat straight, with cheeks flushed, looking across at Blake. + +"Westby feels that he has had provocation and therefore may be rude." +Irving spoke at last with calmness. "It's true that I never officiated +before at any races. At the same time, I don't believe I did anything +which some experienced officials would not have done. There are probably +a good many who believe in penalizing a runner for clumsy and stupid +interference as well as for deliberate intent to foul." + +He had spoken mildly; he did not even emphasize the words "clumsy and +stupid." But the retort went home; the Pythians at the table,--of whom +Blake was one,--chuckled; and Westby, with a deeper shade of crimson on +his face and a sudden compression of his lips, lowered his eyes. + +Irving had triumphed, but after the first moment he felt surprisingly +little satisfaction in his triumph. He could not help being sorry for +Westby; the boy was after all right in feeling that he had been deprived +of a victory to which he had been entitled. And as Irving looked at his +downcast face, he softened still further; Westby had so often delighted +in humiliating him, and he had longed for the opportunity of reprisal. +Now it had come, and Westby was humiliated, and the audience were not +unsympathetic with Irving for the achievement; yet Irving felt already +the sting of remorse. Westby was only a boy, and he was a master; it was +not well for a master to mortify a boy in the presence of other boys--a +boy whose disappointment was already keen. + +The letters were distributed; there was one for Irving from his brother. +It contained news that made the world a different place from what it had +been an hour ago. Lawrence was playing left end on the Harvard Freshman +football eleven; not only that, but in the first game of the season, +played against a Boston preparatory school, he had made the only +touchdown. He added that that didn't mean much, for he had got the ball +on a fluke; still, the tone of the letter was excited and elated. + +And it excited and elated Irving. He folded the letter and put it in his +pocket; he sat for a moment looking out of the window with dreamy eyes +and an unconscious smile. Lawrence was succeeding, was going to succeed, +in a way far different from his own--if his own college course could be +said in any sense to have terminated in success. Lawrence would have the +athletic and the social experience which he had never had; Lawrence +would be popular as he had never been; Lawrence would go brilliantly +through college as he had never done. Everything now was in Lawrence's +reach, and he was a boy who would not be spoiled or led astray by the +achievement of temporary glories. + +In the vision of his brother's triumphant career, Irving was transported +from the troubles and perplexities, from the self-reproaches and the +doubts which had been making him unhappy. He wanted now to share his +happiness, to take the boys into his confidence--but one can share one's +happiness only with one's friends. There was Westby, aggrieved and +hostile; there was Carroll, sitting next to him, the queer, quizzical, +silent youth, with whom Irving had been entirely unable to establish any +relation of intimacy; no, there were no boys at his table with whom he +was intimate enough to appeal for their interest and congratulations. +And feeling this, he shrank from communicating the news,--though he felt +sure that even Westby, who was going to Harvard the next year, might be +interested in it; he shrank from anything like boasting. He found an +outlet soon; Barclay came to see him that evening. + +"I looked for you this afternoon, after the giving out of the prizes," +said Barclay. "But I couldn't find you." + +"No, I didn't wait for that. Did you make a speech? I heard the boys +laughing and cheering as I came away." + +"Oh, yes, I got off a few stale jokes and some heavy-footed persiflage. +It went well enough.--But I looked for you afterwards because I felt I +may have seemed rather short when you came up; the truth is, I was +racking my brain at that moment; Scarborough had just sprung the fact on +me that I must make the speech." + +"Oh, it was all right," said Irving. "I'm sorry to have bothered you at +such a time. I was just a little agitated because Westby was rather +angry over being penalized in the hundred--" + +"So I hear. Well, it was hard luck in a way--but after all you had a +perfect right to penalize him; he did foul, and he ought to be sport +enough to take the consequences." + +"I suppose it wouldn't have been--it wouldn't be possible to run the race +over?" + +"Certainly not. Besides, Westby has no right to say that if he'd started +even with Flack, he'd have beaten him. It's true that he gained half a +yard on Flack in the race; but it's also true that Flack knew he had +that much leeway. There's no telling how much more Flack might have done +if he'd had to. So if Westby says anything to me, I shall tell him just +that." + +"I feel sorry about the thing anyway. I'm sorry I made a mess of it--as +usual." + +"Oh, cheer up; it's not going to do you any harm with the fellows. A +little momentary flash from Westby and Morrill--" + +"No, I wasn't thinking of myself." + +"You weren't!" The bluntness of Barclay's exclamation of astonishment +caused Irving to blush, and Barclay himself, realizing what he had +betrayed to Irving's perception, looked embarrassed. But Irving +laughed. + +"I don't wonder you're surprised. I guess that's been the worst trouble +with me here--thinking about myself. And that was what was troubling me +when I went to you this afternoon. But it isn't any longer. I feel bad +about Westby. I can't help thinking I did rob him of his race--and then I +sat on him at supper into the bargain." + +Barclay shouted with laughter. "You sat on Westby--and you're sorry for +it! What's happened to you, anyway? Tell me about it." + +Irving narrated the circumstances. "And I want to be friendly with him," +he concluded. "Don't you think I might explain that it was a blunder on +my part--and that I'm sorry I blundered?" + +"I wouldn't," said Barclay. "He's beginning to respect you now. Don't do +anything to make him think you're a little soft. That's what he wants to +think, and he'd construe any such move on your part unfavorably." + +"Well, perhaps so." Irving sighed. + +"You're stiffening up quite a lot," observed Barclay. + +"I was very wobbly when Westby and the other fellows went for me after +that race," confessed Irving. "If I stiffened up, I guess it was just +the courage of desperation. And I don't think that amounts to much. But +I've cheered up for good now." + +"How's that?" + +Somewhat shyly Irving communicated the proud news about his brother. + +"Oh, I read about him in to-day's Boston newspaper," exclaimed Barclay. + +"What?" asked Irving. "Where was it? I didn't see it." + +"You probably don't read all the football news, as I do. But you will +after this." Barclay laughed. "Yes, there was quite an account of that +game, and Upton was mentioned as being the bright particular star on the +Freshman team. It never occurred to me that he was your brother." + +"Naturally not. I wish I could get away to see the game with the Yale +Freshmen; I've never seen Lawrence play. But I don't suppose I could +manage that, could I?" + +Barclay looked doubtful. "The rector's pretty strict with the masters as +well as with the boys. Especially when a man has charge of a dormitory. +I somehow think it wouldn't be wise to try it,--your first term." + +"I suppose not. Well, I shall certainly read the football columns from +now on." + +"I wonder," remarked Barclay, "if we couldn't get the Harvard Freshmen +up here to play a practice game with our School eleven--say, the week +before the St. John's game? It would be good practice for them as well +as for us; three or four years ago the Freshmen played here." + +"Oh, I wish we could." Irving's face lighted up. "I'll write to my +brother, and perhaps he can arrange it with the captain and manager." + +"I'll talk it over with Collingwood first," said Barclay. "And then +we'll proceed officially; and you can pull any additional wires that are +possible through your brother." He rose to go. "I shouldn't wonder," he +added, "if that brother of yours turned out to be a useful asset for +you here." + +"I should prefer to stand on my own legs," said Irving. "I shan't +advertise it round that I have a football brother." + +"Oh, it won't be necessary for you to do that; things have a way of +leaking out." Barclay laughed as he took his departure. + +As it happened, the next day Louis Collingwood, the captain of the +School eleven, went to Barclay to consult him about the outlook for the +season. + +"It seems to me we'll have a good School team," said Collingwood, "but +no second eleven capable of giving them hard practice--the kind they'll +need to beat St. John's. If we could only arrange one or two games with +outside teams, to put us into shape--" + +"I was thinking of that," said Barclay. "I wonder if we mightn't get the +Harvard Freshmen up here. They have a good eleven, apparently." + +"Yes, awfully good, from all that the papers say. Don't you suppose +their schedule is filled up?" + +"It may be--but perhaps they could give us a date. Suppose you come over +to my house this evening and we'll send a letter off to their captain. +And I'm sure"--Barclay threw the remark out in the most casual +manner--"Mr. Upton will be glad to approach them for us through his +brother." + +"His brother? Who's that?" + +"Why, didn't you know? His brother plays left end on the team--" + +"Kiddy Upton's brother on the Harvard Freshmen! No!" + +"Whose brother?" + +"Mr. Upton's, I meant to say." Louis grinned. "Is he really, Mr. +Barclay?" + +"I'm rather surprised you didn't know it. But I guess Mr. Upton is the +kind that doesn't talk much." + +"I should think he'd have let that out." + +"Well, he let it out to me. I suspect--though he hasn't told me--that he's +helping to put his brother through college. And his success in doing +that will naturally depend largely on his success or failure here as a +master." + +"You mean--keeping his job?" + +Barclay nodded. "Yes. Oh, I don't suppose there's any real doubt about +that. He's a perfectly competent teacher, isn't he? You know; you have a +class with him." + +"Ye-es," said Louis, slowly. "The trouble has been, the fellows horse +him a good deal--though not quite so much as they did." + +"They'll get over that when they know him better," remarked Barclay. + +He knew that Louis Collingwood went away feeling much impressed, and he +was pretty sure he had done Irving a good turn. + +It was in the noon half-hour, while Collingwood was holding this +interview with Mr. Barclay, that Westby, reading the Harvard news in his +Boston paper, went giggling into Morrill's room. + +"There's a fellow named Upton playing on the Freshmen." He showed +Morrill the name. "Let's get a crowd and go in to Kiddy; I'll get him +rattled." + +"How?" asked Morrill. + +"Oh, ask him if this fellow's a relation of his, and say I supposed of +course he must be--such athletic prowess, and all that sort of thing; +with a crowd standing there giggling you know how rattled he'll get." + +"All right," said Morrill, who was an earnest admirer of Westby's wit. + +So they collected Dennison and Smythe and Allison and Carroll and +Scarborough, and marched up the corridor--humorously tramping in step--to +Irving's door. There Westby, newspaper in hand, knocked. Irving opened +the door. + +"Mr. Upton, sir," began Westby, "sorry to disturb you, sir." The boys +all began to grin, and Irving saw that he was in for some carefully +planned attack. "I was just reading my morning paper, sir, and I wanted +to ask you what relation to you the man named Upton is that's playing on +the Harvard Freshman eleven, sir." + +Irving's eyes twinkled; if ever the enemy had been delivered into his +hands! + +"What makes you think he's a relation?" he asked, with an assumption of +cold dignity. + +"Oh, we all feel sure he must be, sir. Of course your well-known and +justly famous interest in all athletic sports, sir--not to say your +prowess in them, sir--it's natural to suppose that any athlete named +Upton would belong to the same family with you, sir." + +The boys were all on the broad grin; Westby's manner was so expansively +courteous, his compliments were so absurdly urbane, that Irving threw +off his air of coldness and adopted a jaunty manner of reply which was +even more misleading. + +"Oh, well, if you've been so clever as to guess it, Westby," he said, "I +don't mind telling you--it's my brother." + +Westby bestowed on his confederates--quite indifferent as to whether +Irving detected it or not--his slow, facetious wink. He returned then to +his victim and in his most gamesome manner said,-- + +"I supposed of course it was your brother, sir. Or at least I should +have supposed so, except that I didn't know you had a brother at +Harvard. Wasn't it rather--what shall I say?--_peu aimable_ not to have +taken us, your friends, into your confidence? Would you mind telling us, +sir, what your brother's first name is?" + +"My brother's first name? Lawrence." + +"Hm!" said Westby, referring to his newspaper. "I find him set down here +as 'T. Upton.' But I suppose that is a misprint, of course." + +"I suppose it must be," agreed Irving. + +"Newspapers are always making mistakes, aren't they?" said Westby. "Such +careless fellows! We'd like awfully to hear more about your brother +Lawrence, Mr. Upton." + +The broad grin broke into a snicker. + +"Why, I don't know just what there is to tell," Irving said awkwardly. + +"What does he look like, sir? Does he resemble you very much?--I mean, +apart from the family fondness for athletics." + +Irving's lips twitched; Westby was enjoying so thoroughly his revenge! +And the other boys were all stifling their amusement. + +"We are said not to look very much alike," he answered. "He is of a +somewhat heavier build." + +"He must be somewhat lacking, then, in grace and agility, sir," said +Westby; and the boys broke into a shout, and Irving gave way to a faint +smile. + +At that moment Collingwood came up the stairs. + +"Hello, Lou," said Westby, with a welcoming wink. "We're just +congratulating Mr. Upton on his brother; did you know that he has a +brother playing on the Harvard Freshmen?" + +"Yes," said Collingwood. "I've just heard it from Mr. Barclay." + +The boys stared at Collingwood, then at Irving, whose eyes were +twinkling again and whose smile had widened. Then they looked at Westby; +he was gazing at Collingwood unbelievingly,--stupefied. + +"What's the matter with you?" asked Collingwood. + +And then Irving broke out into a delighted peal of laughter. He could +find nothing but slang in which to express himself, and through his +laughter he ejaculated,-- + +"Stung, my young friend! Stung!" + +They all gave a whoop; they swung Westby round and rushed him down the +corridor to his room, shouting and jeering. + +When Irving went down to lunch, Carroll, the quizzical, silent Carroll, +welcomed him with a grin. Westby turned a bright pink and looked away. +At the next table Allison and Smythe and Scarborough were all looking +over at him and smiling; and at the table beyond that Collingwood and +Morrill and Dennison were craning their necks and exhibiting their joy. +Westby, the humorist, had suddenly become the butt, a position which he +had rarely occupied before. + +He was quite subdued through that meal. Once in the middle of it, Irving +looked at him and caught his eye, and on a sudden impulse leaned back +and laughed. Carroll joined in, Westby blushed once more, the Sixth +Formers at the next table looked over and began to laugh; the other boys +cast wondering glances. + +"What's the joke, Mr. Upton?" asked Blake. + +"Oh, don't ask _me_," said Irving. "Ask Westby." + +"What is it, Wes?" said Blake, and could not understand why he received +such a vicious kick under the table, or why Carroll said in such a +jeering way, "Yes, Wes, what _is_ the joke, anyhow?" + +When the meal was over, Westby's friends lay in wait for him outside in +the hall, crowded round, and began patting him on the back and offering +him their jocular sympathy. To have the joke turned on the professional +humorist appeared to be extremely popular; and the humorist did not take +it very well. "Oh, get out, get out!" he was saying, wrenching himself +from the grasp of first one and then another. And Irving came out just +as he exclaimed in desperation, "Just the same, I'll bet it's all a +fake; I'll bet he hasn't got a brother!" + +He flung himself around, trying to escape from Collingwood's clutch, +and saw Irving. The smile faded from Irving's face; Westby looked at him +sullenly for a moment, then broke away and made a rush up the stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE HARVARD FRESHMAN + + +For two or three days the intercourse between Irving and Westby was of +the most formal sort. At table they held no communication with each +other; in the class-room Irving gave Westby every chance to recite and +conscientiously helped him through the recitation as much as he did any +one else; in the dormitory they exchanged a cold good-night. Irving did +not press Westby for a retraction of the charge which he had overheard +the boy make; it seemed to him unworthy to dignify it by taking such +notice of it. He knew that none of the boys really believed it and that +Westby himself did not believe it, but had been goaded into the +declaration in the desperate effort to maintain a false position. Irving +wondered if the boy would not have the fairness to make some +acknowledgment of the injustice into which his pride had provoked him. + +And one day at luncheon, Westby turned to Irving and with an embarrassed +smile said, + +"Mr. Upton, do you get any news from your brother about the Harvard +Freshman eleven?" + +Carroll directed at Westby the quizzical look under which Irving had so +often suffered. But Westby did not flinch; he waited for Irving's +answer, with his embarrassed, appealing smile. + +"I had a letter from him this morning," said Irving. "He writes that +there is a chance of their coming up here to play the School eleven; I +had asked him if that couldn't be arranged." + +"Oh, really!" exclaimed Westby, in a tone of honest interest. + +"When, Mr. Upton?" "Does he think they'll come?" "Does Lou Collingwood +know about it?" + +"I guess he knows as much as I do." Irving tried to answer the flood of +questions. "He wrote officially to the captain at the same time that I +wrote to Lawrence. If they come at all, it will be about a week before +the St. John's game." + +"When shall we know for sure?" asked Westby. + +"It appears to be a question whether the Freshmen will choose to play us +or Lakeview School. They want to play whichever team seems the stronger, +and they're going to discuss the prospects and decide in a few days." + +"I'm sure we're better than Lakeview," declared Blake. "You'll tell your +brother we are, won't you, Mr. Upton?" + +"I'll tell him that I understand we have a very superior team," said +Irving. "I fancy he knows that it's as much as I can do to tell the +difference between a quarterback and a goal post." + +"You will admit, then, that there was some reason for my not believing +you had a football brother, won't you, Mr. Upton?" Westby tried thus to +beat a not wholly inglorious retreat. + +"Every reason--until it became a matter of doubting my word," said +Irving. + +Westby crimsoned, and Irving felt that again he had been too severe with +him; the boy had been trying to convey an apology, without actually +making one; it might have been well to let him off. + +But Irving reflected that the account was still far from even and that +perhaps this unwonted adversity might be good for Westby. Irving did not +realize quite how much teasing had been visited upon Westby in +consequence of his disastrous error, or how humiliated the boy had been +in his heart. For Westby was proud and vain and sensitive, accustomed to +leadership, unused to ridicule; for two days now the shafts of those +whom he had been in the habit of chaffing with impunity had been +rankling. Because of this sensitive condition, the final rebuke at the +luncheon table, before all the boys, cut him more deeply than Irving +suspected. Afterwards Westby said to Carroll,-- + +"Oh, very well. If he couldn't accept my acknowledgment of my mistake, +but had to jump on me again--well, it's just spite on his part; that's +all. I don't care; I can let him alone after this. That seems to be what +he wants." + +"A month ago he wouldn't have asked more than that of you," observed +Carroll. "And you didn't feel like obliging him then." + +The implication that Irving had worsted him galled Westby. + +"Oh," he retorted, "the best of jokes will wear out. Kiddy was a +perfectly good joke for a while--" + +Carroll annoyed him by laughing. + +For one who had hitherto been indifferent to all forms of athletics, +Irving developed a surprising interest in the game of football. Every +afternoon he went to the field and watched the practice of the Pythian +and Corinthian elevens. He had once thought the forward pass a detail +incapable of engaging one's serious attention, and worthy of rebuke if +attempted in dormitory; but after Lawrence wrote that in executing it he +was acquiring some proficiency, Irving studied it with a more curious +eye. + +He wondered if Lawrence was as skillful at it as Collingwood, for +instance; Collingwood had now learned to shoot the ball with accuracy +twenty or twenty-five yards. Occasionally Irving got hold of a football +and tested his own capacity in throwing it; his attempts convinced him +that in this matter he had a great deal to learn. Looking back, he could +comprehend Louis Collingwood's indignation and amazement at a master who +would coldly turn away when a boy was trying to illustrate for him the +forward pass. + +One afternoon from watching the football practice Irving moved aside for +a little while to see the finish of the autumn clay-pigeon shoot of the +Gun Club. + +There were only six contestants, and there were not many spectators; +most of the boys preferred to stay on the football field, where there +was more action; the second Pythians and second Corinthians were playing +a match. But Irving had heard Westby talking at luncheon about the +shoot and strolled over more from curiosity to see how he would acquit +himself than for any other reason. + +The trap was set in the long grass on the edge of the meadow near the +woods; Allison was performing the unexciting task of pulling the string +and releasing the skimming disks. When Irving came up, Smythe was +finishing; he did not appear to be much of a shot, for he missed three +out of the seven "birds" which Irving saw him try for. + +Then it was Westby's turn. Westby had got himself up for the occasion, +in a Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers and leggings; he was always +scrupulous about appearing in costumes that were extravagantly correct. +He saw Irving and somewhat ostentatiously turned away. + +Irving waited and looked on. Westby stood in an almost negligent +attitude, with his gun lowered; the trap was sprung, the clay pigeon +flew--and then was shattered in the midst of its flight. It seemed to +Irving that Westby hardly brought his gun to his shoulder to take aim. +It could not all be luck either; that was evident when Westby demolished +ten clay pigeons in rapid succession. It was Carroll's turn now; Westby, +having made his perfect score, blew the smoke from the breech and stood +by. + +Irving went up to him. + +"I congratulate you on your shooting, Westby," he said. "It seems quite +wonderful to a man who never fired a gun off but a few times in his +life--and then it was a revolver, with blank cartridges." + +Westby looked at him coolly. "It's funny you've never done anything that +most fellows do," he observed. "Were you always afraid of hurting +yourself?" + +"I was offering my congratulations, Westby," said Irving stiffly, and +walked away. + +"Why did you go at him like that?" asked Carroll, who had heard the +interchange. + +"Oh," said Westby, "I wasn't going to have him hanging round swiping to +me, soft-soaping me." + +"I think he was only trying to be decent," said Carroll. + +"I like a man who is decent without trying," Westby retorted. + +Yet whether his nerves were a little upset by the episode or his eye +thrown off by the wait, Westby did not do so well in the next round. The +trap was set to send the birds skimming lower and faster; Westby missed +two out of ten, and was tied for first place with Carroll. And in the +final shoot to break the tie, Westby lost. + +He shook hands with Carroll, but with no excess of good humor. He knew +he was really the better shot, and even though Carroll was his closest +friend, the defeat rankled. + +At supper Blake congratulated Carroll across the table. + +"You won, did you, Carroll?" asked Irving. + +"Yes, sir--by a close shave." + +"I'm sorry I didn't stay to see it." The remark was innocent in +intention, but to Westby it seemed edged with malice--as if the master +was exulting over his defeat. + +Something in Westby's expression told Irving what the boy had inferred; +Irving went afterwards to his room in a despondent mood. It didn't +matter how hard he tried or what he did; he had not the faculty of +winning and holding affection and respect. As it was with boys, so it +would be with men. If only he could see how and why he failed, and could +learn to correct his mistakes! + +He felt of more importance in the School world when a letter from +Lawrence was the first announcement that the Freshman eleven would come +to play St. Timothy's. He asked Collingwood if he had had any word, and +when Collingwood said no, he told him his brother's message. + +"I don't believe there can be any mistake," said Irving. "He writes that +it was decided only the night before. You'll probably receive the +official communication in a day or two." + +Collingwood was tremendously elated. "I knew we were better than +Lakeview--but I was afraid they wouldn't realize it," he said. "Now +we'll have to get ready and beat them. Anyway, if we can't do that, it +will be the best kind of preparation for the St. John's game." + +The official communication arrived; Collingwood rushed with it to the +bulletin board in the Study building and posted it for all eyes to see. +The same day he posted the School eleven, as it would line up in that +game. + +Westby was to be first substitute for Dennison at right half back. +Westby had been playing a streaky game on the First Corinthians; on some +days he was as brilliant a runner and tackler as there was in the +School, and on other days he would lose interest and miss everything. + +If he was disappointed at the preference given to Dennison, he did not +show it; in fact, that he appeared on the list as substitute seemed to +fill him with elation. He had never taken football quite so seriously as +some of the others--as Collingwood and Dennison, for example; and +therefore only a moderate success in it was for him a matter of +gratification. + +The training table was organized at once, but Westby was not admitted to +it. There was not room for the substitutes; they were expected to do +their own training. Westby was notoriously lax in that matter and had to +be nagged constantly by Collingwood, whom he found some pleasure in +teasing. + +He would secure some forbidden article of food and ostentatiously appear +to be eating it with the greatest enjoyment until he caught +Collingwood's eye; a large circular doughnut or a chocolate eclair +delicately poised between his thumb and finger were his favorite +instruments for torturing his captain's peace of mind. He would contrive +to be seen just as he was on the point of taking the first bite; then he +would reluctantly lay the tidbit down. + +"It's a hard life, this being a near athlete," he grumbled. "Sitting at +a table with a lot of uncongenial pups like you fellows.--Mr. Upton, +Blake's kicking me; make him quit, sir.--Not allowed to eat half the +things the rest of you do, and not allowed either to get any of the +training-table grub. Well, I never did think of self, so I can endure it +better than most." + +The others jeered. But Westby, however he might complain, was faithful +at practice and accepted good-naturedly his position upon the second +eleven, and the hard battering to which every one on the second eleven +was subjected. + +The day when he got round Morrill, the first eleven's left end, and +scored a touchdown--the only one which in that week of practice the +second eleven scored--brought him so much applause that he began really +to think there might be a chance of his ousting Dennison from the +regular position. When that notion entered his head he ceased to be +facetious about the training; he became suddenly as serious as +Collingwood himself. But in spite of that, he remained Dennison's +substitute. + +The Saturday set for the game with the Harvard Freshmen was an Indian +Summer day. In the early morning mist wreathed the low meadows and the +edges of the pond; it seemed later to dissipate itself through all the +windless air in haze. The distant hills were blue and faint, the elms in +the soft sunlight that filtered down had a more golden glow. + +"Great day," was the salutation that one heard everywhere; "great day +for the game." + +Now and then in his morning classes Irving's thoughts would wander, +there would be a gentle rush of excitement in his veins. He would turn +his mind firmly back to his work; he did not do any less well that day +because his heart was singing happily. + +In three hours more--in two--in one--he was going to see Lawrence again; he +wondered if he would find his brother much changed. Only two months had +passed since they had parted; yet in that time how remote Lawrence had +grown in Irving's eyes from the Lawrence of the Ohio farm! + +The bell announcing the noon recess rang; Irving dismissed his last +class. He hurried down the stairs almost as madly as the Fourth Formers +themselves; the train on which the Harvard Freshmen were coming was due +ten minutes before; already Lawrence and the others must have started on +the two-mile drive out to the School. + +In front of the Study building most of the older boys and many of the +younger were congregated, awaiting the arrival of the visitors. Irving +walked about among the groups impatiently, now and then looking at his +watch. He passed Westby and Collingwood, who were standing together by +the gate. + +"Pretty nearly time for them, Mr. Upton," said Westby. "Feeling nervous, +sir?" + +There was more good nature in his smile than he had displayed towards +Irving since the day of the track games. + +"A little," Irving admitted, and at that moment some one shouted, "Here +they come!" + +Over the crest of the hill galloped four horses, drawing a long red +barge crowded with boys. Collingwood climbed up on the gate-post. + +"Now, fellows," he said, "when they get here, give three times three for +the Freshmen." + +The boys waited in silence. Irving strained his eyes, trying to +distinguish the figures huddled together in the barge. The horses came +down at a run, with a rattle of hoofs and harness; the driver +flourished his whip over them spectacularly. + +"Now then, fellows!" cried Collingwood. "Three times three for the +Freshmen!" + +And amidst the waving of caps as the cheers were given, Irving could see +no one in the barge. Then when that cheer had subsided, one of the +visitors stood up and took off his hat and shouted,-- + +"Three times three for St. Timothy's! One--two--three!" The fellows in the +barge sent up a vigorous, snappy cheer, and then overflowed at back and +sides. In the confusion and the crowd, Irving was still straining his +short-sighted eyes in a vain attempt to discover Lawrence. + +Suddenly he heard a shout,--"Hello, Irv!"--and there, a little way off, +was Lawrence, laughing at him and struggling towards him through the +throng. The boys understood and drew apart and let the two brothers +meet. + +"It's great to see you again, Irv," said Lawrence, when he could reach +and grasp his brother's hand; he looked at Irving with the same old +loving humor in his eyes. + +"It's great to see you again, Lawrence," said Irving. He could not help +being a little conscious and constrained, with so many eyes upon him. + +He tucked one hand in his brother's arm and with the other reached for +Lawrence's bag. Lawrence laughed, and with hardly an effort detached it +from Irving's grasp. + +"_You_ carry that, you little fellow! I guess not," he said. + +Some of the boys heard and smiled, and Lawrence threw back at them a +humorous smile; Irving blushed. He led Lawrence away, towards the Upper +School. The other Freshmen were being conducted in the same direction by +Collingwood and his team. + +"Well," said Westby to Carroll in an outpouring of slang from the +heart, "Kiddy's brother is certainly a peach of a good looker. I hope +he'll bring him to lunch." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +WESTBY IN THE GAME + + +It was with satisfaction that Westby and Carroll saw Lawrence entering +the dining-room with Irving. They had observed the long table spread in +the common room of the Upper School, where the visiting team were to be +entertained at luncheon, and had supposed therefore that they would have +no chance of satisfying their curiosity about the master's brother. + +When Irving introduced Lawrence to them, Westby said,-- + +"We hoped we were going to see you here, but we were afraid you might +have to eat outside with your team." + +"Oh, I got special permission from the captain for this occasion," said +Lawrence. "I'm afraid I'm depriving somebody of his seat," he added to +Irving. + +"It's Caldwell--I arranged with him about it. He's gone to Mr. Randolph's +table." + +"Besides, he's only a Fourth Former," said Westby. + +Lawrence laughed. "You're Sixth, I suppose?" Westby nodded. "Going to +Harvard next year?" + +"Yes." + +"Good for you. I'll tell you one thing; you couldn't have a better man +to get you in than this brother of mine--if I do say it. He tutored me +for Harvard--and I guess you've never had a worse blockhead, have you, +Irv?" + +"Oh, you were all right in some things, Lawrence." + +"I'd like to know what. How I used to try your patience, though!" +Lawrence chuckled, then turned and addressed the boys, especially Westby +and Carroll, as they were the oldest. "Did any of you ever see him mad?" + +"Oh, surely never that," said Westby urbanely. "Irritated perhaps, but +not mad--never lacking in self-control." + +Westby, thinking himself safe, ventured upon his humorous wink to Blake +and the others who were grinning; Lawrence intercepted it and at once +fixed Westby with a penetrating gaze. + +Westby colored and looked down; Lawrence held his eyes on him until +Westby looked up and then, in even greater embarrassment under this +prolonged scrutiny, down again. Then Lawrence turned to his brother. + +"Tell me, Irv," he said in a tone that simply brushed aside as +non-existent everybody else at the table--just as if he and his brother +were talking together alone, "what sort of kids do you have to look +after in your dormitory, anyhow?" + +Irving's lip twitched with amusement; Westby, still scarlet, was looking +at his plate. "Oh, a pretty good sort--but they're Sixth Formers, you +know--not kids." + +"Pretty fresh, are they--trying to show off a good deal and be funny?" + +"Oh, one or two only; still, even they aren't bad." + +Lawrence paid no further attention to Westby. Now and then he spoke to +Carroll and to Blake, but most of his conversation--and it dealt with the +sort of college life about which boys liked to hear, and about which +Irving had never been able to enlighten them--he addressed directly to +his brother. + +Westby listened to it gloomily; there were many questions that he wanted +to ask, but now he did not dare. Evidently Mr. Upton had warned his +brother against him, had imparted to his brother his own dislike; that +was why Lawrence had nipped so brutally his harmless, humorous allusion +to the master's temper. + +As a matter of fact, Lawrence had had no previous knowledge whatever of +Westby; Irving had always withstood his impulse to confide his troubles. +He made now an effort to draw Westby forward and reinstate him in the +conversation; he said,-- + +"Lawrence, you and Westby here may come against each other this +afternoon; Westby's first substitute for one of the half-backs on the +School eleven." + +Lawrence said, "That's good," and gave Westby hardly a glance. + +After luncheon, walking down to the athletic field with Westby, Carroll +said jeeringly,-- + +"Well, Kiddy Upton's brother is no myth, is he, Wes?" + +At that Westby began to splutter. "Conceited chump! He makes me tired. +Of all the fresh things--to sit up there and talk about the 'kids' in +Kiddy's dormitory!" + +Carroll laughed in his silent, irritating way. "He certainly put you +down and out--a good hard one. Why, even Kiddy was sorry for you." + +Westby went on fuming. "Sorry for me! I guess Kiddy had been whining to +him about how I'd worried him. That's why the chump had it in for me." + +"Chump, Wes! Such a peach of a good looker?" + +"Oh, shut up. I don't care if he is good looking; he's fresher than +paint." + +"He would think that was a queer criticism for you to make." + +Westby stalked on in angry silence. He was more wounded than he could +let Carroll know. There was a side to him which he shrank from +displaying,--the gentle, affectionate side of which Irving had had a +glimpse when the boy was anxiously watching his young cousin Price in +the mile run; and to this quality Lawrence's greeting of his brother had +unconsciously appealed. Westby had stood by and heard his words, "_You_ +carry that, you little fellow!" had seen the humor in his eyes and the +gentleness on his lips, and had felt something in his own throat. + +For all his affectation of worldliness and cynicism, the boy was a +hero-worshiper at heart, and could never resist being attracted by a +fine face and a handsome pair of eyes and a pleasant voice; Lawrence had +in the first glance awakened an enthusiasm which was eager for near +acquaintance. And now, although he talked so venomously against him, it +was not Lawrence whom he reproached in his heart; it was himself. + +Why had he been unable to resist the impulse to be smart, to be funny, +to be cheap? He might have known that a fellow like Lawrence would see +through his remark and would resent it; he might have known that his +silly, clownish wink could not escape Lawrence's keen eyes. + +So Westby walked on, gloomily reproaching himself, unconscious that at +that very moment, walking a hundred yards behind, Irving was defending +him. + +"A month ago, Lawrence, I'd have been glad to have you light on Westby +as you did," he said. "But now I'm rather sorry." + +"Why so?" + +"Oh, he's had some hard luck lately, and--well, I don't know. Those +encounters with a boy don't seem to me worth while." + +"You've got to suppress them when they're fresh like that," insisted +Lawrence. "For a fellow to talk to you in that fresh way before a +guest--and that guest your brother--I don't stand for it; that's all." + +"No, I don't either. Well, it doesn't matter much; reproof slides off +Westby like water off a duck's back." + +They talked of other things then until Lawrence had to join his team and +enter the athletic house with them to dress. + +Out on the field Irving mingled with the crowd, walked to and fro +nervously, stopped to say only a word now to a boy, now to a master, and +then passed on. It was foolish for him to be so excited, so tremulous, +he told himself. Lawrence had parted from him with the same calmness +with which he might have gone to prepare for bed. It was all the more +foolish to be so excited, because the accessories to promote a +preliminary excitement were lacking,--rivalry, partisanship; the visiting +team had no supporters. + +The School had turned out to see the game, but there was no cheering, no +thrill of expectation; the boys stood about and waited quietly, as they +would before ordinary practice. It would be different in another week, +when the St. John's team were sharing the athletic house with St. +Timothy's, and the adherents of the two schools were ranged opposite +each other, waving flags and hurling back and forth challenging +cheers--cheers meant to inspirit the players while they dressed. But now +Irving was aware that he in all the crowd was the only one whose nerves +and muscles were quivering, whose voice might not be quite natural or +quite under his control, whose heart was beating hard. + +If Lawrence should not play well this time--the first time he had ever +seen him play! Or if anything should happen to him! Irving tramped back +and forth, digging cold hands into his pockets. + +The Harvard team was the first to leave the athletic house; they broke +through the line of spectators near where Irving stood and trotted out +on the field. As they passed, he caught his brother's eye and waved to +him. In the preliminary practice Irving watched him eagerly; with his +light curly hair he was conspicuous, and as he was on the end of the +line his movements were easy to follow. It seemed to Irving that he was +the quickest and the readiest and the handsomest of them all. + +Out came St. Timothy's, and then there was a cheer. The two teams went +rollicking and tumbling up and down the field for a few moments; then +Collingwood and the Harvard captain met in the centre, Mr. Barclay +tossed a coin, and the players went to their positions. Mr. Barclay blew +a whistle; the game began. + +From that time on Irving trotted up and down the side lines, his heart +twittering with pride and anxiety. After every scrimmage, after every +tackle, he looked apprehensively for a curly light head; he was always +glad when he saw it bob up safely out of a pile. Through all the press +and conflict, he watched for it, followed it--just as, he thought in one +whimsical moment, the French troopers of Macaulay's poem watched for the +white plume of Navarre. + +If he had known even less about the game than he did, he must still have +seen that for Harvard his brother and Ballard, the fullback, were +playing especially well. Ballard, with his hard plunges through the +centre and his long punts, was the chief factor in Harvard's offensive +game; Lawrence was their ablest player on the defense. + +After the first ten minutes St. Timothy's made hardly an attempt to go +round his end, but devoted their assaults to the centre and other wing +of the line. + +If there was one thing for which Collingwood, the best football player +in the School, had achieved a special reputation, it was the fleetness +and dexterity with which he could run the ball back after punts. He was +known as the best man in the back field that St. Timothy's had had in +years. So when Ballard prepared for his first kick, the spectators +looked on with composure. + +It was a fine kick; the ball went spiraling high and far, but +Collingwood was under it as it fell, and Dennison was in front of him to +protect him. + +Yet Lawrence, rushing down upon them, was too quick, too clever; +Dennison's attempt to block him off was only a glancing one that +staggered him for the fraction of an instant; and the ball had no sooner +struck in Collingwood's arms than Lawrence launched himself and hurled +the runner backwards. + +"Whew! What a fierce tackle!" ejaculated a boy near Irving admiringly. + +"I think Lou did well to hang on the ball," responded his friend. + +Irving heard; he went about greedily drinking in comments which that +tackle had evoked. He found himself standing behind Westby and the other +substitutes, who, wrapped in blankets, trailed up and down the field +keeping pace with the progress of their team. + +"No!" Briggs, one of the substitutes, was saying. "Was that Kiddy +Upton's brother? He's a whirlwind, isn't he?" + +"Looked to me as if he was trying to lay Lou Collingwood out," returned +Westby sourly. + +At once Irving's cheeks flamed hot. He put out his hand and touched +Westby's shoulder; the boy turned, and then the blood rushed into his +cheeks too. + +"Was there anything wrong about that tackle, Westby?" Irving asked. + +"It just seemed to me he threw him pretty hard." + +Irving spoke to the three or four other substitutes standing by. + +"I don't know much about football; was there anything wrong with that +tackle--that it should be criticised?" + +"It looked all right to me," said Briggs. + +"If there is any question about it, I shall want to talk to my brother--" + +"Oh, it was all right," Windom spoke up. "It was a good, clean, hard +tackle--the right kind. Wes is always down on the enemy, aren't you, +Wes?" + +Westby stood in sullen silence. The next play was started; St. Timothy's +gained five yards, and in the movement of the crowd Irving and Westby +were separated. + +For a few moments Irving's thoughts were diverted from his brother, and +his joyous excitement was overshadowed by regret. He felt less indignant +with Westby than sorry for him; he knew that the boy had repented of his +hasty and intemperate words. If he would only come up and acknowledge +it--so that he might be forgiven! + +Then Irving put Westby out of his mind. St. Timothy's had kicked; +Ballard had recovered the ball for Harvard on St. Timothy's forty-yard +line, and then Warren, the quarterback, had made a long pass straight +into Lawrence's hands; Lawrence started to run; then, just as Chase and +Baldersnaith were bearing down for the tackle, he stopped and hurled the +ball forward and across to Newell, the other Harvard end. + +It sailed clear over the heads of the intervening players; Newell had +been signaled to, had got down the field and was ready for it; three St. +Timothy's players ran to get under the ball, but instead of blocking +Newell off and merely trying to spoil his catch, they all tried to make +the catch themselves; they all leaped for it. Newell was the quickest; +he grabbed the ball out of the air and went down instantly, with the +three others on him--but he was on St. Timothy's ten-yard line. + +It was a brilliant pass and a brilliant catch; St. Timothy's stood +looking on disconsolate, while the Harvard players gathered exultantly +for the line-up. Three rushes through tackle and centre and one run +round Lawrence's end carried the ball across St. Timothy's line for a +touchdown. Ballard kicked the goal. + +There was no more scoring that half. In the second half St. Timothy's +kicked off; Harvard got the ball and set about rushing it back up the +field. They had gained ten yards and had carried the ball forty yards +from their own goal, when they lost possession of it on a fumble. The +spectators cheered, and began shouting,-- + +"Touchdown, St. Timothy's, touchdown!" + +There was more shouting when, with Collingwood interfering for him, +Dennison broke through the Harvard left tackle and made fifteen yards. +Then Collingwood made a quarter-back kick which Morrill captured on the +Harvard five-yard line. + +The St. Timothy's cheering broke out afresh, Scarborough leading it. +Irving joined in the cheer; he was glad to see Collingwood and the +others making gains--provided they did not make them round Lawrence's +end. + +On the five-yard line the Harvard defense stiffened. On the third down +the ball was two yards from the goal line. + +"Everybody get into this next play--everybody!" cried Collingwood +appealingly; he went about slapping his men on the back. "Now +then--twelve, thirty-seven, eighteen." + +There was a surge forward, a quivering, toppling mass that finally fell +indecisively. No one knew whether the ball had been pushed across or +not. No one wanted to get up for fear it might be pushed one way or the +other in the shifting. + +Barclay and Randolph, who was umpire, began summarily dragging the +players from the pile, hauling at an arm or a leg; at last Dennison was +revealed at the bottom hugging the ball--and it was just across the line. + +Then all the St. Timothy's players capered about for joy, and the +spectators shouted as triumphantly as if it had been the St. John's +game; the Harvard team ranged themselves quietly under the goal. +Dennison kicked the goal, and the score was tied. + +For the next ten minutes neither team succeeded in making much progress. +St. Timothy's were playing more aggressively than in the first half; +twice Kenyon, the Harvard halfback, started to skirt round Lawrence's +end, but both times Baldersnaith, the St. Timothy's tackle, broke +through and dragged him down. Baldersnaith, Dennison, Morrill, and +Collingwood were especially distinguishing themselves for the School. + +At last, after one of the scrimmages, Dennison got up, hobbled a moment, +and then sat down again. Collingwood hurried over to him anxiously. + +"Wrenched my ankle," said Dennison. "I guess I'll be all right in a +moment." + +Waring, the Fifth Former, who acted as water-carrier, ran out on the +field with his pail and sponge. Mr. Barclay examined the ankle, then +turned to Collingwood. + +"I think he could go on playing," he said. "But if I were you I'd take +him out now and save him for the St. John's game. You don't want to risk +his being laid up for that." + +Dennison protested, but Collingwood agreed with Mr. Barclay. He turned +and called, "Westby"; and as Westby ran out, Dennison picked himself up +and limped to the side-line. + +It was Harvard's ball in the middle of the field. Though it was only the +first down, Ballard dropped back to kick. + +"Now then, Wes, hang on to it," Collingwood cried as he and Westby +turned and ran to their places in the back field. + +Westby had a faint hope that the kick might go to Collingwood; he didn't +feel quite ready yet to catch the ball; he wanted to be given a chance +to steady down first. But he knew that was exactly what the Harvard +quarterback intended to prevent. + +The ball came sailing, high and twisting; he had to run back to get +under it. Then he planted himself, but the ball as it came down was +slanted off by the wind, so that he had at the last to make a sudden +dash for it; it struck and stuck, hugged to his breast, and then over +he went with a terrific shock, which jarred the ball from his grasp. + +Irving had seen the play with mingled joy and sorrow. It was his brother +who had made the tackle; it was Newell, the other Harvard end, who had +dropped on the fumbled ball. + +Westby and Lawrence got to their feet together; Lawrence's eyes were +dancing with triumphant expectation; the ball was Harvard's now on St. +Timothy's twenty-yard line. And Westby went dully to his position, aware +of the accusing silence of the crowd. + +"All right, Wes; we'll stop them," Collingwood said to him cheerfully. + +Westby did his best and flung himself desperately into the thick of +every scrimmage. The whole team did its best, but Harvard would not be +denied. By short rushes they fought their way down, down, and at last +across the goal line--and the game was won. There were only three minutes +left to play, and in that time neither side scored. + +When Mr. Barclay blew his whistle, the Harvard team assembled and +cheered St. Timothy's, and then St. Timothy's assembled and cheered +Harvard. After that the players walked to the athletic house, beset on +the way by the curious or by friends. + +Westby was the victim of condolences, well meant but ill-timed; he +responded curtly when Blake, pushing near, said to him, "It was awfully +hard luck, Wes--but after that you played a mighty good game." He wished +nothing but to be let alone, he wished no sympathy. He knew that he had +lost the game; that was enough for him. + +In the dressing-room he sat on a bench next to Lawrence Upton and began +putting on his clothes in silence. The other boys were talking all round +him, commenting cheerfully on the plays and on the future prospects of +the teams. + +Lawrence refrained from discussing the game at all; he asked Westby what +St. Timothy's boys he knew at Harvard, and where he expected to room +when he went there; he tried to be friendly. But Westby repelled his +efforts, answering in a sullen voice. At last Lawrence finished +dressing; he picked up his bag and turned to Westby. + +"Look here," he said, and there was a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm going to +be at Harvard the next three years; we're likely to meet. Must a little +hard luck make hard feeling?" + +"Oh, there's no hard feeling," Westby assured him. + +"Glad to hear it. Good-by." Lawrence held out his hand. + +"You're not going to stay for supper?" + +"No. I'm going back with the team on the six o'clock train--hour exam on +Monday. My brother's waiting for me outside; I want to see him for a +while before we start. I hope to come up here some time again--hope I'll +see you." + +"Thanks. I hope so. Good-by." + +The words were all right, but Westby spoke them mechanically. It had +flashed upon him that Lawrence would now learn from his brother the +charge that he had so unjustly and hotly made. And of a sudden he wished +he could prevent that. He would have been glad to go to Irving and +retract it all and apologize; anything to keep Lawrence from hearing of +it. + +Why had he been so slow in dressing--why hadn't he hurried on his clothes +and gone out ahead of Lawrence and made it all right with Irving! + +With a wild thought that it might not yet be too late, he flung on his +coat and rushed from the building--only to see Irving and Lawrence +walking together across the football field. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MASTER AND BOY + + +For several days Westby's unnatural quiet was attributed to his +sensitiveness over the error which had given the Harvard Freshmen their +victory. It was most noticeable at Irving's table; there his bubbling +spirits seemed permanently to have subsided; he wrapped himself in +silence and gloom. His manner towards Irving was that of haughty +displeasure. Carroll was at a loss to understand it and questioned him +about it one day. + +"Oh, I'm just tired of him--tired of hearing his everlasting brag about +his brother," Westby said sharply. + +"He bragged so little about him once you wouldn't believe he had a +brother," replied Carroll. "I don't see that he brags much more about +him now." + +"Well, I see it, and it annoys me," retorted Westby rudely. "I think +I'll see if I can have my seat changed. I'd rather sit at Scabby's +table." + +Mr. Randolph, however, the head of the Upper School, refused to grant +Westby's petition. + +"You don't give any special reason," he said. "You have friends at Mr. +Upton's table; you ought to be contented to stay there. What's the +matter? Are you having friction with some one?" + +"I should be better satisfied if I were at Scarborough's table," said +Westby. + +"We can't gratify every individual preference or whim," replied Mr. +Randolph. + +He asked Irving if he knew of any reason why Westby should be +transferred and told him that the boy had asked for the change. + +"Oh, it's just between him and me," said Irving wearily. "We don't get +on." + +"Then you'd like to have him go, too?" + +"No, I wouldn't. When he's his natural self, I like him. And I haven't +yet given up the hope that some time we'll get together." + +He met Westby's coldness with coolness. But on the morning of the St. +John's game, after breakfast, he drew Westby aside. He held a letter in +his hand. + +"Westby," he said, "I don't know that you will care to hear it, but I +have a message for you from my brother." + +Westby cast down his eyes and reddened. "I don't suppose I shall care to +hear it," he said with a humility that amazed Irving. "But go ahead--give +it to me, Mr. Upton." + +"I don't quite understand--he just asked me to say to you that he hopes +you'll get your chance in the game to-day. He felt you were rather cut +up by your hard luck in the Freshman game." + +"Didn't he--isn't he--" Westby hesitated for an uncomfortable moment, then +blurted out, "Isn't he sore at me, Mr. Upton?" + +"What for?" + +"For saying about him what I did--about his trying to lay Collingwood out +when he tackled." + +"He doesn't know you said it." + +"Oh! Didn't you tell him?" + +"No. The criticism was unjust--there was no use in repeating it." + +"It was unjust." Westby had lowered his voice. "I am very much ashamed, +Mr. Upton." + +"That's all right," said Irving. He took Westby's hand. "I hope too +you'll get your chance in the game." + +"Thank you." Westby spoke humbly. "I hope if I do, I won't make a mess +of it again." + +That game was far different in color and feeling from the one with the +Freshmen on the Saturday before. Long before it began the boys of St. +John's with their blue banners and flags and the boys of St. Timothy's +with their red were ranged on opposite sides of the field, hurling +defiant, challenging cheers across at one another; for St. Timothy's a +band, in which Scarborough beat the drum and was director, paraded back +and forth; the little boys were already hopping up and down and +trembling and squealing with excitement; already their little voices +were almost gone. + +Irving knew that to himself alone was this occasion one of less moving +interest than that of the preceding Saturday; as he stood and looked on +at the waving red and the waving blue and later at the struggle that was +being waged in the middle of the field, he wondered how on this +afternoon that other game between the red and the blue was going, and +how Lawrence was acquitting himself. + +Certainly it could not, he thought, be any more close, more hotly +contested, than this of the two rival schools. All through the first +half they fought each other without scoring. + +Once St. Timothy's had got down to St. John's fifteen-yard line, but +then had been unable to go farther, and Dennison had missed by only a +few feet his try for a goal from the field. + +Early in the second half St. Timothy's met with misfortune. Dennison was +laid out by a hard tackle; when at last he got to his feet, he limped +badly. Louis Collingwood took him by the arm and walked round with him; +Dennison was arguing, protesting. But Collingwood led him towards the +side-line, patting him on the back, and called "Westby!" + +The spectators cheered the injured player who came off so reluctantly; +then they cheered Westby as he ran out upon the field. Irving was near +the group of substitutes when Dennison hobbled in. + +"Hurt much, Denny?" asked Briggs. + +"No--just that same old ankle--hang it all!" Dennison slipped into a +blanket and lowered himself painfully to the ground. + +Irving's eyes were upon Westby; he hoped that this time the boy would +not fail. Westby had an opportunity now to steady his nerves; it was St. +Timothy's ball and only the first down. Collingwood gave the signal; +Irving watched closely, saw Westby take the ball on the pass and dive +into the line. In a moment all the St. Timothy's eleven seemed to be +behind him, hurling him through, and St. Timothy's on the side-lines +waved and shouted, for Westby had gained five yards. + +Collingwood called on him again; he gained three yards more. Irving +shouted with the rest; he turned to Mr. Randolph and said,-- + +"That ought to give Westby confidence." + +"I hope it does; he's so erratic," Mr. Randolph answered. "If only he's +starting in now on one of his brilliant streaks!" + +Lane, the Fifth Form halfback, tried to go round the end on the next +play, but made no gain. Then Westby was driven again at left tackle, but +he got only two yards. + +Collingwood gave the signal for a criss-cross; Lane took the ball, and +passed it to Westby, who was already on the run. Westby got clear of the +St. John's end, and seemed well started for a brilliant run; but their +halfback chased him across the field and finally, by a tremendous diving +tackle, pulled him down. As it was, Westby had made so much of a gain +that the distance had to be measured; he had failed by only a few inches +to make the required amount, and the ball went to St. John's on their +thirty-five-yard line. + +St. John's made two ineffectual rushes; then their fullback, Warner, +prepared to kick. Westby and Collingwood raced to their places in the +back field. + +There was a tense moment on both sides; then Warner sent the ball flying +high and far. It was Westby's ball; the St. John's ends and one of their +tackles came down fast under the kick. + +Irving, with his heart in his throat, watched Westby; the boy, with both +hands raised, was wabbling about, stepping to the right, to the left, +backward, forward; the ends were there in front of him, crouched and +waiting; Collingwood tried to fend them off, but the big tackle rushed +in and upset him, and at the same instant the ball fell into Westby's +arms--and slipped through them. + +One of the ends dropped on the ball, rolled over with it a couple of +times, rolled up on his feet again and was off with it for the St. +Timothy's goal; he had carried it to the twenty-yard line when +Collingwood pulled him down. St. John's were streaming down their side +line, shrieking and waving their blue flags; St. Timothy's stood dazed +and silent. + +"Oh, butterfingers!" cried Briggs, stamping his foot. + +"Just like Wes--he wouldn't make a football player in a thousand years!" +exclaimed Windom. + +Irving heard the comments; he heard other comments. If St. John's should +score now! He hoped they wouldn't; he was sorry enough for Westby. But +St. John's did score, by a series of furious centre rushes, and their +fullback kicked the goal. And when, fifteen minutes later, the referee +blew his whistle, the game was St. John's, by that score of six to +nothing. + +Irving could understand why some of the St. Timothy's boys had tears in +their eyes. It was pretty trying even for him to see the triumphant +visitors rush upon the field, toss the members of their team upon their +shoulders, and bear them away exultantly to the athletic house, yelling +and flaunting their flags, while the St. Timothy's players walked +disconsolately and silently behind them. + +It was trying afterwards to stand by and see those blue-bedecked +invaders form into long-linked lines and dance their serpentine of +victory on St. Timothy's ground. It was trying to stand by and watch +barge after barge bedecked with blue roll away while the occupants +shouted and waved their hats--and left the field to silence and despair. + +But still St. Timothy's did not abandon the scene of their defeat. They +waited loyally in front of the athletic house to welcome and console +their team when it should emerge. Collingwood led the players out, and +the crowd gave them a good one. + +Collingwood said, with a smile, though in an unsteady voice, "Much +obliged, fellows," and waved his hand. + +Then the crowd dispersed; slowly they all walked away. + +That evening, as Irving was about to leave his room to go down to +supper, a boy brought him a telegram. It was from his brother; it said,-- + +"We licked them, twelve to six. Feeling fine. Lawrence." + +At the table Irving tried not to appear too happy. He apologized for his +state of mind and told the boys the cause; those who, like Carroll, were +Harvard sympathizers derived a little cheer from the news, and the +others seemed indifferent to it. Westby was not there. The training +table was vacant, and at the other tables were empty chairs where +substitutes on the team had sat. Mrs. Barclay was entertaining the +football players. + +"I wish I was breaking training there," said Carroll to Irving; "she has +the most wonderful food." + +In the discussion of the game there seemed to be little disposition to +blame Westby. + +"After all," said Blake, "he was only a sub, and he never got so very +much practice in handling punts. I don't think fellows ought to be sore +on him." + +"No, he's just sore on himself," said Carroll. + +"It's hard luck, anyhow; except for that one thing he played mighty +well." + +The mail boy passed, leaving a letter for Irving. It was in his uncle's +handwriting; and his uncle never wrote to him; it was his aunt who kept +him posted on all the news of home. Did this mean that she was ill--or +that some disaster had befallen? + +Irving determined that if it was bad news, he would reserve it until he +should be alone; he put the letter in his pocket and waited anxiously +for the meal to end. + +When he was again in his room, he tore open the envelope and read this +letter:-- + + DEAR IRVING,--I have not helped you and Lawrence much financially. I + thought it would do you and him no harm to try out your own + resources. But I always meant to give you a lift whenever it should + seem wise, and whenever a lift could be most advantageously + arranged. + + Your father was never able to lay up any money; his work was of a + kind that did not permit that. But he would always have shared with + me whatever he had. I have had it in mind to do the same by his + children. I have sold half the farm--the western half--your half and + Lawrence's. There is four thousand dollars in cash for each of you, + and four thousand on a mortgage for each of you at six per cent. + You had better draw out of school-teaching as soon as possible and + study law--if that is still what you most want to do. + + Your aunt is well and sends her love. We are both looking forward + to seeing you and Lawrence at Christmas. + + Your affectionate uncle, + + ROBERT UPTON. + +A flood of warm emotion poured through Irving; his eyes filled. He had +sometimes thought his uncle selfish and narrow--and all the time he had +been working towards this! + +Irving wrote his reply; he wrote also to Lawrence. Then he took his +letters down to the Study building, to post them so that they might go +out with the night mail. On his way he passed the Barclay house; it was +all brightly lighted, the sound of laughter and of gay boy voices rang +out through the open windows; the notes of a piano then subdued them, +and there burst out a chorus in the sonorous measured sweep of "Wacht am +Rhein." + +Irving stood for a few moments and listened; his exultant heart was +responsive to that shouted song. Fellows who could sing like that, he +thought, must have trodden disappointment under heel. + +An hour later, when Irving sat in his room, the boys who had been +entertained at the Barclays' came tramping up the stairs. They were +still singing, but they stopped their song before they entered the +dormitory. Irving met them to say good-night--first Dennison and then +Morrill and then Louis Collingwood. + +"Have you heard the new song Wes has got off, Mr. Upton?" asked +Dennison. + +"No, what's that?" + +"Hit it up, Wes." + +"Oh, choke it off." Collingwood grinned uneasily. + +"Go on, Wes,--strike up. We'll all join in." + +"Wait till I get my banjo--you don't mind, do you, Mr. Upton?" + +"No. I'd like to hear it." + +So Westby hastened to his room and returned, bearing the instrument; and +all the other boys gathered round, except Collingwood, who stood +sheepishly off at one side. Westby twanged the strings and then to the +accompaniment began,-- + + "Across the broad prairies he came from the west, + With fire in his eye and with brawn on his chest; + His arms they were strong and his legs they were fleet; + There was none could outstrip his vanishing feet; + We made him our captain--what else could we do? + You ask who he is? Do I hear you say, 'Who?'" + +Then they all came in on the chorus:-- + + "He is our Lou, he is our honey-Lou, + He is our pride and joy; + He is our Loo-loo, he is our Loo-loo, + He is our Lou-Lou boy." + +"Silly song!" exclaimed Collingwood with disgust. + +"Wes made it up just this evening, at Mrs. Barclay's," said Dennison. +"We were all singing, and after a while Wes edged in to the piano and +sprung this on us. Don't you think it's a good song?" + +"So good that I wish I could furnish inspiration for another," said +Irving. + +Westby joined in the laugh and looked pleased. + +"Good-night, everybody," said Collingwood; he walked away to his room. +The others followed, all except Westby, to whom Irving said,-- + +"Will you wait a moment? I should like to have a little talk with you." +He led the boy into his room and pushed forward his armchair. + +Westby seated himself with his banjo across his knees and looked at +Irving wonderingly. + +"The fellows seem pretty cheerful after their defeat, don't they?" said +Irving. + +A shadow crossed Westby's face. "They've been very decent about it," he +answered. + +Irving put his hand on Westby's arm. + +"Do you know why they're so decent? It's because you've cheered them up +yourself. Who was the fellow, Westby, that said he didn't care who might +make his country's laws if only he might write its songs?" + +[Illustration: A SHADOW CROSSED WESTBY'S FACE] + +"Oh--no--that's got nothing to do with me." + +"You needn't care who makes the touchdowns. Your job is to do something +else. It's no discredit to you if because of lack of training or +adaptability, you can't hang on to a ball at a critical moment. There +are plenty of fellows who can do that.--I suppose you don't see it yet +yourself--but you know the message my brother sent you? I shall tell him +that you got your chance to-day--and took it." + +"I don't see how." + +"Well, I don't know how you managed it exactly. But I could see when +those fellows came upstairs just now that you stood better with them +than you ever had done before. It must have been because you showed the +right spirit--and I know by experience, Westby, that it's awfully hard to +show the right spirit when you're down." + +There was silence for a few moments. + +"I guess I've made it hard for you," said Westby at last, in a low +voice. "You're different from what I thought you were." + +Irving's low laugh of exultation sprang from the heart. "Maybe I am--and +maybe you were right about me, too. A fellow changes. A month ago, I was +wondering what use there could ever be in my studying law--trying to +practise, mixing with men--when I couldn't hold my own with a handful of +boys. For some reason, I don't feel that way any longer.--Well, that's +about all I wanted to say to you, Westby." He stood up. "Good-night." + +Westby rose and shook hands. "Good-night, sir." + +He passed out and quietly closed the door. Irving stood at the window, +gazing beyond the shadowy trees to the dim silver line of the pond, +touched now by the moonlight. There was a knock on the door. + +"Come in," Irving called. + +It was Westby again. + +"Oh, Mr. Upton," he said, "I meant to tell you--I heard at Mr. Barclay's +how the Freshman game came out; I wish, if you would, you'd send your +brother my congratulations." + +"Thank you, I will." + +"Good-night, sir." + +"Good-night." + +The door closed softly. Irving turned again and pressed his forehead +against the window-pane with a smile. It was a smile not merely of +satisfaction because he had won his way at last, though he was not +indifferent to that; he was happy too because this night he felt he had +come close to Westby. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Jester of St. Timothy's, by +Arthur Stanwood Pier + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JESTER OF ST. 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