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diff --git a/41816-0.txt b/41816-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..70d05e7 --- /dev/null +++ b/41816-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7831 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41816 *** + +ANN ARBOR TALES + + +By +Karl Edwin Harriman + + +Philadelphia, George W. Jacobs and Company, MCMII + + +COPYRIGHT, 1902, +BY GEORGE W. JACOBS & CO. + +_Published November, 1902._ + + +_TO MY PARENTS_ + + + + +Contents + + PAGE +THE MAKING OF A MAN 11 + +THE KIDNAPPING 61 + +THE CHAMPIONS 97 + +THE CASE OF CATHERWOOD 123 + +THE DOOR--A NOCTURNE 177 + +A MODERN MERCURY 207 + +THE DAY OF THE GAME 259 + +THE OLD PROFESSOR 303 + + + + +THE MAKING OF A MAN + +Florence affected low candle-lights, glowing through softly tinted +shades, of pale-green, blue, old-rose, pink; for such low lights set +each coiled tress of her golden hair a-dancing--and Florence knew this. +The hangings in the little round room where she received her guests were +deeper than the shades, and the tapestry of the semi-circular +window-seat was red. It was in the arc of this that Florence was wont to +sit--the star amidst her satellites. + +It was one's privilege to smoke in the little room, and somehow the odor +of the burned tobacco did not get into the draperies; nor filter through +the _portières_ into the hall beyond; and the air of the _boudoir_ was +always cool and fresh and sweet. + +Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday--every night--and Sunday most of all--there +were loungers on that window-seat, their faces half in shadow. It was +hard at such times to take one's eyes off Florence, sitting in the arc, +the soft light of old-rose moving across her cheek, creeping around her +white throat, leaping in her twisted hair, quivering in her blue, soft +eyes. + +When she smiled, one thought in verse--if one were that sort--or, +perhaps, muttered, "Gad!" shiveringly under the breath. + +Well may you--or I--shake our heads now and smile, albeit a bit sadly; +but then it was different. We have learned much, too much perhaps, and +the once keen edge of joy is dulled. But then we were young. Youth was +our inheritance and we spent it, flung it away, you say, as we knelt +before the Shrine of Beauty set up in a little round room where low +lights glimmered among deep shaded draperies. + +We realized that it was a serious matter--a deadly serious matter; just +as did a score or more of our fellows on the campus in whose hearts, as +well, flared the flame of the fine young love that we were feeling in +our own. + +For you--and I--loved Florence. + +Dear little room! Dearest, dearest Florence! Many are the men who never +learned; in whose hearts your image is enshrined to-night. And few are +they who ever learned and really knew you, dear. + +Some few thought they did and called you a "College Widow," because they +could remember a certain tall, dark-browed senior who danced ten times +with you at the Jay Hop of '87. Others were convinced through them; but +these were mostly freshmen upon whom you had not sought to work your +magic. How far wrong they were! Yet even you, Florence, I am thinking, +were wont, at least in blue moments, to take yourself at the scant +valuation these few saw fit to place upon you. + +But in the end you, even, saw and understood. + +I am glad, my dear, that I may tell the story. And if those who read it +here shall call it fiction, you, and Jim, and I, at least, shall know it +for the truth. + +And then, when I have done, and you have put aside the book, to hide +your eyes from him who holds you fonder far than you can know, remember, +dear, the glory of it and be glad. + + +I + +It was June. + +The rain had been plentiful and the green things of earth rioted +joyously in their silent life. In the trees were many birds that sang +all day long, and in the night the moon was pale and the shadows were +ghostly and the air was sweet with roses that hung in pink profusion +from the trellis. + +The grass was soft beneath the quick, light tread of the lads; and the +laughter of the summer-time was in the eyes of all the maids. + +Many the gay straw-rides to the Lake; frequent and long the walks +through leafy lanes, down which the footfalls echoed; sweet the vigils +on the broad stone steps distributed about the campus with so much +regard for youthful lovers. + +Too warm for dancing; too languorous for study, that June was made only +for swains and sweethearts. + +At least Jack Houston thought as much, and casting an eye about the town +it chanced to fall upon fair Florence. Older than he by half-a-dozen +years--older still in the experience of her art--her blue eyes captured +him, the sheen of her soft hair, coiled high upon her head, dazzled him; +and the night of the day they met he forgot--quite forgot--that +half-a-dozen boon companions awaited him in a dingy, hot room down-town, +among whom he was to have been the ruling spirit--a party of vain +misguided youths of his own class, any one of whom he could drink under +the table at a sitting, and nearly all of whom he had. + +The next night, however, he was of the party and led the roistering and +drank longer, harder than the rest, until--in the little hours of the +new day--sodden, unsteady, he found his way to his room, where he flung +himself heavily upon his bed to sleep until the noonday sun mercifully +cast a beam across his heavy eyes and wakened him. + +This life he had led for two years and now his face had lines; his eyes +lacked lustre; his hand trembled when he rolled his cigarettes, but his +brain was keener, his intelligence subtler, than ever. The wick of his +mental lamp was submerged in alcohol and the light it gave seemed +brighter for it. There were those who shook their heads when his name +was mentioned; while others only laughed and called it the way of youth +unrestrained. + +There was only one who seemed to see the end--Crowley--Houston's +room-mate, nearest pal--as unlike him as white is unlike black, and +therefore, perhaps, more fondly loving. It was because he loved him as +he did that Crowley saw--saw the end as clearly as he saw the printed +page before his eyes, and shuddered at the sight. He saw a brilliant +mind dethroned; a splendid body ruined; a father killed with grief--and +seeing, thus, he was glad that Houston's mother had passed away while he +was yet a little, brown-eyed, red-cheeked boy. + +His misgivings heavy upon his heart, he spoke of them to Florence. At +first, her eyes glinted a cold harsh light, but as he talked on and on, +fervently, passionately, that light went out, and another came that +burned brighter, as he cried: + +"Oh, can't something be done? _Something?_" + +They walked on a way in silence, and then she said, quietly, as was her +manner, always: "Do you think I could help?" + +He seized her hand and she looked up into his eyes, smiling. + +"Oh, if you could!" he cried; and then: "Would you try?" But before she +could answer he flung down her hand saying: "But no, you couldn't; what +was I thinking of!" + +They were walking by the river to the east, where, on the right, the +hill rose sheer--a tangle of vivid green--from the heart of which a +spring leapt and tinkled over smooth, white pebbles, to lose itself +again in the earth below, bubbling noisily. + +At his expression, or, more at the tone he employed in its utterance, +she shrank from him, and then, regardless of her steps, sped half-way up +the hill, beside the spring course. There she flung herself upon a mossy +plot, face down. + +Crowley called to her from the road, but she did not answer; he went to +her, and stooping touched her shoulder. Her whole body, prone before +him, quivered. She was crying. + +He talked to her a long time, there in the woodland, silence about them +save for the calls of the birds. + +She turned her wet eyes upon his face. + +"Oh, to think every one doubts me!" she murmured. "You laughed at me +when I asked you if I could help--you think I'm only a toy-like girl--a +sort of great cat to be fondled always." + +She seized a stick, broke it impetuously across her knee and rose before +him. + +"I will help!" she cried, "I will--and you'll see what I'll do!" + +Afterward--long afterward--he remembered her, as she was that +moment--her golden hair tumbling upon her shoulders; her eyes blazing, +her glorious figure erect, her white hands clenched at her sides. + +So it was Crowley--Jim Crowley the penitent, yet the sceptical--who +brought them together, just as it was Crowley who waited, who counted +the days, who watched. + + +II + +From the walk he saw them on the tennis courts one evening a week later. + +Unobserved he watched their movements; the girl's lithe, graceful; +Houston's, strong, manly. He was serving and Crowley noted the swift +sweep of his white arm, bare almost to the shoulder, and was thrilled. +Florence had slipped the links in her sleeves and rolled her cuffs back +to dimpled elbows and her forearms were brown from much golf. + +Crowley approached the players after a moment and they joined him at the +end of the net. The flush on the girl's face gave her beauty a radiance +that he could not recall ever having noticed before. Usually Florence +was marbly calm. Houston was warm, glowing. + +"Gad, you're a fine pair; I've been watching you," Crowley blurted. + +The girl shot him one swift glance, then her lips parted over her +strong, white, even teeth, as she laughed. + +"Aren't we?" she cried gaily--"just splendid----" And made a playful +lunge at him with the raquet. + +"Venus and Adonis playing tennis, eh?" Crowley said. + +"Oh, cut it out," Houston exclaimed. + +"They didn't play tennis, did they?" Florence asked. + +"He ought to know," Houston put in, "he's working for that Rome +scholarship--but he'll never get it any more than I shall the +Athens...." + +"They used to play hand ball--the gods did----" Crowley explained +professorily. "And in a court, too. I suppose your tennis is merely a +survival of that old Greek game." + +The three sat at the edge of the court while Crowley discoursed +learnedly upon the pastimes of the ancient Greeks. The deep throated +bells in the Library Tower rang out the hour of eight across the maples +and the amateur lecturer rose lazily. + +"Do you want to go down town, Jack?" he asked indifferently. + +Had Houston known how breathlessly Crowley hung upon his answer he would +not have taken so long to make it. As it was he glanced up at his +room-mate and across at Florence whose eyes met his with a look of +inquiry. He looked away then and Crowley glanced at the girl, and in her +eyes he seemed to see a challenge. + +"He's not going down town," she said, quite definitely, though still +smiling; "he's going home with me." + +Crowley shrugged his shoulders. + +"Are you, Jack?" he asked. + +"She says so," was the light reply. + +"Well, as I'm not invited I guess I had better be moseying along." + +"Oh, you can come if you want to," Florence said naïvely. + +"Oh, ho; if I want to! Well I guess not!" Crowley exclaimed and moved +away, calling over his shoulder: "Good-night to you--Venus and Adonis." + +"Isn't he a good sort?" Florence asked as the youth's tall figure +disappeared around the corner of the red museum. + +"Ripping!" Houston replied emphatically, "only I wish he weren't such an +old Dryasdust...." + +He carried the raquets under his arm with his coat wrapped about them. +At the door of her home he started to put on his coat. + +"You needn't," she said, perceiving his intent--"leave it off; it will +be cooler. Shall we go in?" She took the coat and flung it over a chair +in the hall and led the way into the little round room. + +"Don't light up," he said--she was feeling along the top of the +teak-wood rack for matches--"Don't you think this is nicer?" + +In the shadow, and half-turned from him as it was, he could not see her +face nor the smile that swept across it as he spoke. + +He flung himself on the seat between the two windows, and she sank upon +a low, old-fashioned stool before him, her elbows on her knees, her chin +in her two slim hands. They talked commonplaces for a space, and +gradually silence fell upon them. After a while he fumbled for his +tobacco and little book of cigarette papers. + +Divining the purpose of his search she glanced over her shoulder and +asked archly in a half-whisper: + +"Wouldn't you rather have a made one?" + +She rose before he could reply, and took down from the rack across the +corner a Japanese jar into the depths of which she plunged her hand. She +held out to him a half-dozen of the little white tubes. Selecting one he +lighted it. + +Puffing contentedly: "Doesn't your mother mind?" he asked. + +She shook her head and sat on the circular seat beside him. + +"She's not here," she added. "There's a social at the church; she's +there...." + +"Oh," he muttered. + +While he smoked, she looked out the window into the silent street now +almost dark. Afterward she watched him blow thin, writhing rings; +leaning toward him, supporting herself on one hand, pressed hard against +the cushion. + +"Why don't you smoke?" he ventured after a few moments, emboldened by +the deepening shadows in the little room. + +"I've a mind to," she said in a half whisper. + +He crossed the room straightway and dove his own hand into the jar and +held out a cigarette to her. + +"I'll get a match," he said. + +"Don't," she cried, "let me light it from yours." + +They leaned toward each other on the window-seat until their faces were +very close and the fire of his cigarette touched the tip of hers. Across +the frail white bridge and through the pale cloud that rose, their eyes +met and his gazed deep into hers, the depths of which he could not +fathom. Then they drew back their heads with one accord and his hand +fell upon hers where it lay on the cushion. Nor did she withdraw her +hand even as his closed over it. The contact sent his blood tingling to +his heart; he leaned nearer her. Their eyes, as now and then they saw in +the little light the glowing coals of their cigarettes gave, did not +waver. He ceased smoking, and so did she. His cigarette dropped from his +nerveless fingers. Quickly he flung an arm about her and drew her toward +him, holding her close, breathlessly. The perfume of her hair got into +his brain, and deadened all but the consciousness of her nearness. She +did not resist his impulse, but lay calm in his arms, her face upturned, +her eyes melting, gazing into his. + +"Dearest," he murmured--"dearest--dearest--" + +"Kiss me--kiss me--Jack." The whisper was like the faint moving of +young leaves in the forest. + +He bent his head.... Their lips met.... He saw the lids fall over her +fathomless eyes like a curtain, and night became radiant day that +instant love was born.... + +Suddenly he drew his arms away, rose and strode nervously into the +hallway, leaving her in a crouching attitude upon the seat. + +She waited eagerly, voiceless. + +She perceived his figure between the _portières_ and heard him say: + +"I'm sorry--perhaps I must ask you to forgive me--I know I've been a +fool--I shall go now----" + +She glided toward him with a silent, undulating movement. He felt +irresistibly impelled to meet her. Afterward he recalled how he had +struggled that moment; had fought; had lost. + +He felt her cool, soft arms against his cheeks. + +"Don't go,--Jack," she whispered. + +He raised his hands and seized her wrists as though to fling her from +him. + +"Why?" he muttered hoarsely. + +"Because,"--her face was hidden against his shoulder and her voice was +faint--"because--I don't want you to." + +She flung back her head then and he looked down into her face, and +kissed her. He kissed her many times, upon the forehead, lips and eyes, +while she clung to him, murmuring fondly. + +He wrenched himself from her close embrace, at last, and rushing into +the hallway, snatched his coat from the chair where she had flung it. + +Standing passively where he had left her, Florence heard the outer door +slam, followed by his swift tread upon the walk and the click as the +gate latched.... Then there was silence. + +For a long time she stood there, one hand clutching the back of a +quaint, old-fashioned chair. A shudder passed over her. She went to the +window and looked out, but in the darkness of the street she could see +nothing but the vague outlines of the houses across the way and a blot +where the lilac-bush was in the yard. + +Sinking upon the seat she proceeded to uncoil her heavy hair, braiding +it deftly over her shoulder. Gathering up her combs from the cushion, +she went into the hallway and pressed the button regulating the lights. +In the white glow she regarded her face in the mirror over the fireplace +shelf and smiled back faintly at the reflection. + +As she turned to the stairway she perceived a white card lying on the +floor. She picked it up and turned it over in her hand. It was a little +photograph of a young, sweet-faced girl and written across the margin at +the bottom she read--the writing ordinary--"To Jack, from Susie." She +turned and stared an instant at the vestibule door. Then she mounted the +stairs, slowly. + +Her mother's voice from the hallway below awakened her. + +"I'm here, dear," she called back. "I went to bed--I was so tired." + + +III + +There is this to be said of Jack Houston: whenever he took liquor--which +was often--he took it like a man. None of the alley-door for him; +through the front door, as sturdy and frank as a Crusader or not at +all--that was his way. Let a faculty man be coming toward him half a +block distant, there was no hesitation; not a waver. He--if such were +the circumstance--would nod and pass directly beyond the double swinging +screens, and not give the incident another thought. Nor were bottles +ever delivered to his room in boxes marked "Candles." Indeed the outward +signs were that he took pride in the bravado with which he carried on +the business; for there on the boxes were the stenciled labels--plain +enough to be read distinctly across the street--"Perth Whiskey." But it +was not that he had a pride in what certain of his fellows were wont to +call his "independence." It was simply that he drank--drank when he +chose; paid for what he drank; and drank it like a man--a Southern man, +honorably. The real trouble was not that he saw fit and cared to drink, +or what he drank; but that he drank so much. + +And he was in love now; reveling in a multitude of agreeable sensations, +which, perhaps, he had not even dreamed himself destined ever to +experience in such fulness. Analyzing his emotions he marveled at the +condition he discovered. He set himself apart and regarded the other +Jack Houston critically. He denied his heart's impeachment; the other +Jack sneered and called him a fool. He laughed; the other Jack said,--or +seemed to say: "Laugh away; but it's a serious business all the same." +He flaunted; the other adhered to the original charge. In the end he +stood before that other Jack and held out his hand, as it were, +and--like a man--confessed. And it devolved upon him forthwith to +celebrate the discovery of a cardiac ailment he had not experienced +before as he was experiencing it now. So, with barbaric, almost +beautiful, recklessness, he got drunk; thoroughly, creditably drunk. + +The next morning, heavy-headed, thick-tongued, he shifted his eyes +sheepishly about the room, while Crowley, from the high ground of his +own invincible virtue, talked down to him roundly. He did not interrupt +the steady flow of malediction in which his immaculate room-mate seemed +determined to engulf him; but when the lecture was ended, he looked up, +steadily, and said: "Never mind, old top, it's the last; on the square +it is." + +As he had a perfect right to do under the circumstances, Crowley +shrugged his shoulders, and looked out the window into the green of a +maple. + +"All right, old top," Houston driveled on pathetically--"mebbe I've said +it before; but this time I mean it--see if I don't." And he reached +across the table for a bottle of bitters. He poured half a small glass +with shaking hands. Over the edge of the drink he perceived the sneer on +Crowley's face. He set the glass and bottle on the _chiffonier_ +carefully. + +"Confound you! don't you believe me, you white-ribbon parson!" he cried. + +Crowley smiled broadly. + +Houston seized the glass. "There!" he exclaimed--"Now do you believe +me?--Not even a bracer!" And he flung glass and liquor into the +waste-paper basket. + +Crowley laughed aloud at that, and went down-stairs, and Houston, as he +finished dressing, heard him talking to the landlady's collie on the +front porch. + +For that afternoon--it being Saturday--he had planned a boating trip, +with a picnic supper, down the river. The care-taker at the boathouse +helped him tote the canoe around the dam, while Florence, her face +shaded by the blue parasol she carried, stood on the bank by the +railway. Her hamper was stowed away securely, and while the man held +fast to the frail craft, Houston lifted her fairly from the ground and +set her, fluffy and cool, in the bow where he had arranged the cushions. +To the attendant music of many little cries of half fright, the canoe, +at one sweep of the paddle, shot into midstream. + +The river was unusually high; the spring rains had been frequent and +plentiful, and now the water ran flush with the green banks on either +side. Past the ivy-hung station they drifted with the current. Florence +sat silent among the cushions watching the rhythmic, graceful sweep of +the paddle, strongly, evenly manipulated by her flannel-clad gondolier. + +It was an occasion for unvoiced enjoyment. On the left rose the +hills--threaded by the winding, white boulevard--thick with greenery, +through which now and then were to be caught glimpses of The +Hermitage--poised obliquely on the hillside, a sheer declivity falling +from its broad canopied piazza. Skirting the bank, the passage of the +canoe wrought havoc among the birds, and they flew to and fro across the +stream, or, hopping nervously from branch to branch, screamed their +displeasure at the rude invasion of their domestic quiet. + +Florence removed her rings, and, dropping her hand over the low rail, +let it trail through the dark-green water, alive with the shivering +reflections of the bank verdure. + +The boat glided beneath the old wooden bridge at the boulevard +beginning, and two small boys who were fishing from the weather-stained +structure forgot their lines to watch the passage of the silent craft. +Further on, the current ran more swiftly and Jack ceased paddling, +relaxed, steered merely. + +They talked of many things in the stillness. Now and then they were +moved to outbursts of sentiment occasioned by the beauty of the hills +and the little surprises of charm that nature, at each curve of the +wandering stream, brought into view. Overhead, feathery clouds, almost +opalescent, floated in a turquoise sky; and the breeze that was wafted +across the hills kissed cool their faces. + +Florence drew in her dripping hand and dried it on her handkerchief. +The sun was obscured and she closed the blue parasol. Finally she said: + +"Jack--Jack dear--why did you do it?" + +She did not lift her eyes as she spoke, but, rather, regarded the tip of +her parasol, pressed against the toe of one little patent-leather +slipper. + +"What?" he asked calmly; so calmly that she could not tell whether he +were dissembling ignorance of her meaning. + +"You understand," she said--"last night----" + +"How do you know?" he exclaimed suddenly; but before she could reply he +added, gently, "I'm sorry--I'm dead sorry!" + +She was moved to lift her eyes by the note of contrition in his voice. +Her lips parted the least bit over her teeth and she smiled. + +"How--how could you, dear?" she went on; "after--after--that night. I've +been thinking about it all day. I didn't mean to mention it at +first--but--but--I couldn't help it. You don't really like to do such +things; do you, Jack? There, I know you don't. It's just what they +call--spirits--I suppose----" + +He laughed aloud, and his laugh was echoed back across the river. "Yes," +he cried, gleefully--"that's it--_spirits_!" + +She glanced up at him reprovingly. "You know I didn't mean that. I +don't think you should laugh. But Jack dear,"--she gazed steadily, +soberly, at him now--"you won't do it any more, will you?" + +He did not answer. + +"Can't you promise me, Jack--_me_?" she asked, tenderly. + +Long afterward she recalled to him that instant of hesitation before he +replied. + +"I promise," he exclaimed, finally, with a brave note of resolution in +his voice. + +She sighed and settled back more comfortably among the cushions. + +"I knew you would," she said. + +After a moment: "Do you care so very--so very, very much?" he asked. + +"Of course I do," she answered, quite gaily. + +"Why?" + +The eagerness in his voice startled her. It may have been that which +induced the little tremor she felt pass over her. She closed her eyes as +he, leaning forward, watched her. + +"Dearest--dearest," she heard him whisper; "is it because--because----" + +She opened her eyes then, dreamily, languishingly, and in them he seemed +to read her answer, and was satisfied. + +They had reached the point where they had planned to spread their +picnic supper. He drove the canoe into the soft earth of the sloping +bank and steadied it with the paddle while she, gathering up her fluffy +skirts, stepped out. He dragged the boat upon the bank and handed her +the hamper. They climbed up to a shelf of rock over the edge of which a +spring sent whirling to the road below a glistening rope of water. They +set the basket in the cool shade, at the edge of the shelf, and +descending again followed the road along the stream. The air was filled +with the sounds of joyous Nature. The world was glad and gay; glad for +the tall, strong youth in flannels who strode beside a yellow-haired +girl; and gay for the girl. + +In the evening they waited on "their rock," as she called it, until +twilight rose and the birds became quiet and the wild life about was +still. + +Over the shoulder of the hill across the river the moon rose, round, +high, white, to light a gleaming path along the stream. + +Paddling back, Houston displayed his skill, for it was no child's work +against the current. She watched him; the strong, even movements of his +arms, as he fairly bent the paddle blade before his steady strokes. +Rounding a bend the lights of the town twinkled into view. + +"We're nearly home," he called, and the words came quick and short from +the effort he had made. + +"And you're tired," she murmured. + +"No, not tired," he replied--"I only wish it were longer----" + +"But we can come again--before you go home." + +"Florence--I don't want to go, now." He hesitated a moment. "I might +make the governor believe that the summer school would materially +benefit his son," he added. + +She laughed at the mockery in his voice. "I'm afraid I should be your +only professor," she said. + +"I would hope so," he replied. + +"No, dear," she said, seriously, "don't this summer--next, perhaps." + +"Will you write me then--often?" he asked. + +"How often?" + +"Don't you suppose you could--I shan't say every day--but every other +day?" + +"Yes." + +And his heart leaped in his breast at the tone she employed. + +"I love you," he whispered. "Oh, how I love you!" + +"And you will keep your promise?" She smiled back at him. + +"Yes." + +"Dearest Jack!" + +"I'm going to tell the governor when I get home, Florence," he suddenly +exclaimed. + +"No, no, dear, don't; not yet." The haste of her reply was startling--"I +don't think I would," she added more calmly, seemingly herself conscious +of it. "Perhaps he'll come on, next year; then he could meet me; and he +could see---- Perhaps he might not--might not--like it----" + +"Not like it!" he cried. "Yes, you're right; he might fall in love with +you himself! Yes, he might," he added in mock seriousness, "I hadn't +thought of that...." + +They walked slowly through the silent streets to her home, and in the +darkness of the little round room he held her close in his arms and +kissed her. + +"Has it been a happy day?" he whispered, his cheek pressed to hers. + +He felt the quick pressure of her hand upon his arm. + +"So happy," she murmured. + +After the door closed behind him she stood as she had that first night, +and in the darkness about her she seemed to see the sweet face of a +young girl--the girl of the picture.... She brushed the back of her hand +across her smooth forehead and sighed.... + +In another week he was gone. + +He came back to her after many weeks and although she did not ask, he +told her he had kept his promise. + + +IV + +During the winter that followed, Houston's constant attention to +Florence was generally accepted at its face-value. That they were +engaged few of their intimates doubted; and among the faculty members of +their acquaintance there were many smiles and sidewise glances. + +At a Forty Club dance one night Mrs. Longpré, a _chaperon_, said to Mrs. +Clifford, another, lowering her lorgnette through which, for some +moments she had stared, rather impertinently, as was her custom, at Jack +and Florence, "I find that couple quite interesting." + +"Why, pray?" Mrs. Clifford asked, roused suddenly from the doze into +which she had lapsed, due to _ennui_ that she made no effort to conceal. + +"That Mr. Houston seems a very nice young man," observed the worthy +dame, patronizingly, and as though speaking to herself, "but what he can +see in that girl is beyond me." + +Mrs. Clifford squinted. She refused to add to her generally aged and +wrinkled appearance by wearing spectacles. + +"Isn't she a proper person?" she asked. + +Mrs. Clifford had a proper daughter--a very proper daughter--who at that +precise moment was sitting prim and solitary on the lowest step of the +gallery stairs. + +"Well," Mrs. Longpré observed, significantly, "there have been stories. +Of course one is quite prepared to hear stories and whether they are +true or not one never knows," she added, defensively. "But the girl's +mother allows her to have her own way more than I should, if she were my +daughter. She is old enough to be his aunt, besides, and always has +half-a-dozen young men dancing attendance upon her." + +"I suppose it's just another college engagement that will end when he +graduates," Mrs. Clifford ventured. "Is the girl in college at all?" she +inquired with a smothered yawn. + +Mrs. Longpré smiled. "Hardly," she replied, drily. "If she had +continued--for she started I am told--she would have graduated quite +seven years ago." There was a tart venom in the last speech. + +"You don't say," mused Mrs. Clifford who was new to Ann Arbor, her +husband, the professor, having been called from a little Ohio college to +fill the chair of Norwegian Literature. And she immediately lapsed into +another doze from which she did not emerge--being quite stout, and +pleasantly stupid--until the orchestra overhead began the last +dance--"Home, Sweet Home." + +Mrs. Longpré's point-of-view as regarded Jack and Florence was that of +nearly all the faculty women who knew them. Indeed, there was but one +among them, the jolly little wife of the assistant professor of +physics--who did not know much and did not feign more--who championed +them. And her support was little more than a mere exclamation at the +girl's beauty, now and then at a "reception," or a wide-eyed admiration, +feelingly expressed, of Houston's charming manners and exquisitely +maintained poise. + +If Florence in the slightest measure realized how she--for what her +judges were pleased to call her latest "affair"--was held by those +judges she did not express her knowledge even by a sign. As for Houston, +he saw precisely how the companionship was regarded by the small people +among whom decency required him to mingle, and the knowledge irritated +his nerves. + +"The fools!" he exclaimed to Florence one day, "don't they think a +fellow can really care for a girl--ever!" + +She laughed and told him not to mind, and he was satisfied. + +In the beginning Houston had planned to work for the Athens +scholarship, an honor within the University's gift much sought, but +seldom won save by weary plodders in the library, who when they +graduated carried from the campus with their neatly rolled and tubed +diplomas no remembrance of the life of their fellows, or of friends +made, or of pleasant associations formed. + +At first Houston's effort was brave, but at the end of the first +semester of his freshman year he was conditioned in one course. The +receipt of the little white slip marked his first lapse from academic +virtue. Afterward, his course was plainly indicated--a trail clearly +marked by empty bottles. + +One afternoon in the early part of his junior year, Florence and he were +driving on the middle road to Ypsilanti. Below the Poor Farm they turned +in at a side lane, over which the branches met. The sun, shining through +the green canopy, stenciled the way with shadows that shifted and +changed design as the soft wind moved the leaves. + +"Jack," Florence said quite seriously, "what made you give up your idea +of going in for the scholarship?" + +He flecked the horse impatiently with the whip. + +"What was the use keeping on?" he replied. "I fell down straight off +the bat. I'd like to win it; that's sure enough. It would be fine. I +like to work, too; but it's too late now." He sighed. "But there," he +exclaimed, turning to her with a smile, "what's the use of crying over +spilt milk?" + +She was still serious. + +"Don't be silly," she reproved. "Why don't you go on with it now? Can't +you, dear? Please. Oh, how I'd love to see you win it; and you can if +you'll only try!" She clasped her hands eagerly and leaned in front of +him. + +"Do you suppose I could?" he asked, with some show of earnestness. + +"Of course you could!" she cried. "Do try, Jack, dear; please do; for my +sake." + +The shade was deep where they were, and he stopped the horse and they +remained there a space. She planned for him gaily. + +"If I could only help you," she murmured tenderly. + +"You can--by loving me," he said. + +She looked away. + +"If I do take up the work to win," he went on, "it'll mean I can't come +down so often. How would you like that?" he asked, playfully. + +"I shouldn't care." Then she added quickly, a little frightened by the +look he gave her. "You know, dear, I didn't mean that! I mean I could +stand it--I could stand it for your sake." + +"So we both might be happier in the end." + +At his words she looked away again. + +"Yes," she repeated slowly--"so we both might be happier in the end. +Won't you try?" she asked eagerly, after the moment's silence that +ensued. + +He did not answer her at once. Then suddenly he flapped the reins upon +the horse's back and touched the sleek animal with the whip. + +"Gad! I will!" he exclaimed. And looking at her he saw a mist in her +eyes, and that she had drawn her lower lip between her teeth, which were +white upon it. + +Moved by her emotion he asked, gently: + +"Are you glad?" + +"Oh, so glad!" she answered, and there was a tremor in her voice. "I +know you'll win," she went on after a moment. "I know, at least you'll +make the effort, for you've promised me. You always keep your promises +to me, don't you, Jack?" + +He laughed lightly. "I couldn't do otherwise," he said. "I couldn't if I +tried." + +He felt her hand upon his arm, and his heart at that moment filled to +overflowing with love for her.... + +"Crowley, you old parson, I'm going to win that Athens scholarship or +bust--or _bust_; do you understand!" he exploded, later in the day, +before his room-mate. + +Crowley looked up from the three open books on the table over which he +was bent. + +"Good for you!" he cried. "Gad; you're more apt to win it now than I am +the Rome--the way the work is going." + +"You'd better look to your laurels," was the bantering reply. "You just +note your little Johnnie's smoke. If he doesn't make the rest of the +bunch that's on the same scent look like thirty cents, a year from next +June, he'll go jump off the dock; and upon you will devolve the cheerful +duty of telegraphing papa!" + +And the next day he began. + +It was an Herculean task that confronted him and he realized fully the +labor necessary to its accomplishment. He dove into the work with an +enthusiasm that augured well for the achievement of the end he had in +view. He outlined a system; he drafted a schedule of diversion and +recreation, which he promised himself he would adhere to. It permitted +of meetings with Florence on only two nights of the week. For a month he +did not swerve a hair's breath from this plan of employment, but at the +end of that period he sent her a brief note breaking an engagement to +drive with her on the Sunday following. He beseeched Crowley to call +upon her and explain, which Crowley did, while Houston, locked in his +room, studied. + +During that call Crowley suffered an embarrassment he had never before +experienced in Florence's presence. The John Alden part he had been so +summarily cast to act, he felt did not fit him. As for Florence, she +perceived his discomfort and surmising something of its cause adapted +herself to the situation delicately. + +"Do you think he'll win?" she asked eagerly after Crowley had made the +necessary explanations. + +"Win!" he exclaimed. "He'll win or go clear daft, if he keeps on working +like he's been doing the past three weeks. He's getting thinner, too," +he added--"actually getting thinner; hadn't you noticed?" And he laughed +with her at the thought of Houston wearing himself to a shadow over +books of archeology. It _was_ very absurd. + +Understanding well that Florence had had some hand in the change of +Houston's fortunes, he hesitated upon the point of asking her to tell +him all about it. They had been very candid in the past. He recalled +their walk by the river and the conversation of that afternoon bearing +upon Jack's misdeeds. But, for some reason that he could not, for his +dulness, fathom now, he _did_ hesitate. Houston had never told him what +was the precise relation between him and Florence, and for him now, he +thought, in the event of a secret engagement, perhaps, to seek to learn +from her what that relation might be---- It was too delicate, he +concluded, altogether too delicate. + +"I do hope," she said, "you won't let him get sick working so hard." + +"Oh, you needn't worry," he replied, significantly, "I don't think +there's any immediate danger." + +After a moment she said, bluntly: "You haven't any real faith in him, +even now, have you, Jim?" + +He was a little startled by her question. Had she, he asked himself, +been sitting there reading his mind as though it were a show bill, +printed in large type? He felt, for the moment, decidedly uncomfortable. + +"You haven't, have you?" she repeated. + +"Why, yes," he replied, somewhat indefinitely. "Why yes I have, too." + +She shook her yellow head and smiled. "I'm afraid not," she said +quietly. + +And that instant Crowley came nearer achieving a complete understanding +of Houston's case than he was destined to again--until long after. He +was glad to leave the little round room at the end of half an hour. + +For months Jack and Florence had made plans for the Junior Hop of his +third year, but the first of February came and with it a realization to +Florence that her hopes were destined to be shattered. Jack explained to +her, as best he could, that the three days' respite from work after the +first-semester examinations could not be that for him. + +"I'm up to my eyes, dear," he said--"besides I know you don't care much; +you've been to a lot, and as for me I shouldn't care a snap to go over +to the Gym. and dance all night. I'm going through the exams, great. I +know, dear, I've worked hard, but I must work harder. You understand, +don't you?" + +Of course she understood. Hop? What was a Hop to her? Pouff! That for +them! The same always; a great bore, usually, after one has been to +three or four. That was what she said to him, but deep in her heart she +was disappointed; not keenly perhaps, but disappointed, nevertheless. + +Through the last semester she saw him less frequently, even, than she +had during the earlier part of the year. + +"I've decided to stay over for summer-school, dear," he said to her one +afternoon in mid-June. + +She was quite joyful at the prospect. + +"We shall go on the river!" she cried. "We shall, shan't we?" + +"Of course," he said, earnestly. + +But not once did they go. From week to week the excursion was postponed, +always by Houston, save once. Then Florence's mother was ill. He was +quite prepared on that occasion and suffered some displeasure. + +"Never mind, we'll go in the fall, when you come back," Florence said. + +In order that he might work during the scant vacation permitted him he +carried to his southern home, in August, a case of books. + +"You'll write me, dear, often--awfully often, won't you?" he said to +Florence the night before he left. + +"Of course," she assured him. + +And she kept her promise though his letters were infrequent and brief +during the interval. + +He met her in the little round room the first night he was back. He had +carried away with him an impression of her in a soft, fluffy blue gown, +but now it was autumn, and she was dressed differently. When she came +into the room, his senses suffered a shock from which he did not +immediately recover. + +She seemed much older. He wondered if it might not be her costume. He +could not recall ever before having seen her in gray. He caught himself, +once or twice, regarding her curiously, somewhat critically, and +marveled at the phenomenon. + +She did not chide him for his neglect in not having written her oftener +during the two months he had been away. He offered no excuses. It was as +though, now, each had forgotten in the other's nearness. Leaving her, he +felt that, on the whole, he had got through the evening rather +miserably. + +The weeks sped on fleet wings. He was deep in his work. He perceived +that what, a year before, had appeared but a remote chance of winning +the coveted scholarship had now resolved itself into a certain +possibility; even more, he considered, with a sense of pride--a +probability. + +The campus saw little of him, the town scarcely a glimpse, save +occasionally of a Saturday evening when he walked to the post-office for +his mail. On such evenings he usually stopped at Florence's home on his +way to his rooms. The conversation between them at these times was +confined almost wholly to his work. All his efforts were concentrated +upon the accomplishment of the task he had set before himself. + +For the Christmas vacation he went home. + +"Father's coming in June," he told Florence on his return. "Said he'd be +here big as life and twice as natural--going to bring a cousin of +mine--Susie Henderson--you've heard me speak of her." + +"Oh...." + +"What is it?" He was startled by her exclamation. + +She laughed--"I didn't mean to frighten you," she said--"but I pricked +myself with this pin"--and she flung upon the table the trinket with +which she had been toying. + +On his way to his rooms that night he reviewed, casually, his college +course; he built air-castles for the days ahead. There would be a year +in Athens--perhaps two. Should he and Florence marry before--or after? +They had not planned definitely. Of a sudden the idea that they had not +smote him forcefully. They had really been living only from day to day; +it was wrong; quite wrong, he decided. A settlement should be made at +once--at once. He was quite determined. In his room, bent over the books +upon the table, he forgot forthwith the resolution he had made. The next +day he recalled it--and the next. + +Spring came. His winning was now a certainty. The _U. of M. Daily_ +accepted his success as assured and dismissed the matter at once with +all the cocksureness of collegiate journalism. Now, the hard work done, +he could loaf. + +Loaf! + +The prospect appalled him. Loaf? He had forgotten how! But Florence +should teach him all over again, he mused, and smiled. + +He went to his dressing-table and picked up her portrait given him two +years before. Across the margin at the bottom he read:--"To Jack, from +Florence." + +After a moment he put the photograph down and searched among the others +that littered the table. A little look of puzzlement came into his eyes. + +He turned to the front window and gazed out across the maples, their +leaves silvered by the moonlight. He stood there some moments watching +the face of the night. Then he turned back to his books, doggedly. + +"What's the use?" he muttered, sinking into the chair before his study +table. + + +V + +He realized fully the significance of the extreme to which his course +had brought him. If he might only talk to Crowley; if he might only +tell him everything, how like a cad he felt, what a cad he believed +himself to be, he must sense a deep relief. But would Crowley +understand; could he understand? + +He smiled at the thought the question prompted. Poor old +Crowley--Meister Dryasdust--he understand a situation so delicate--so +exquisitely delicate? It was absurd. Houston laughed aloud; but the +laughter died at once and was like ashes on his lips. + +He had not deceived Florence; not wilfully; though perhaps in the end it +was as though he had. But now the thought that he had not consoled him. +Still she had his promise. He had hers as well, to be sure, and in his +present state of mind he only wished that she might be as willing as he +to forget--he could not _think_, forgive. At the conjecture his pride +suffered a shock. Still, if it were only true--if there were even a +remote possibility of truth in the circumstance he imagined--that she +might have undergone a change; that she might have awakened; that she +might have--drifted away. He was coldly analytical enough _now_, to turn +back a year and hear himself, as he was _then_, being told by her that +she had erred, had made a dreadful _faux pas_ of the whole business. + +A grim smile curved his lips as the situation presented itself more +clearly to his mind. He snapped away his cigarette impatiently. + +Leaving his room an hour before he had felt cool-headed enough, but now +he experienced a growing nervousness with each step he took. It was just +such a day as the one on which they had canoed down the river and the +promises had been exchanged. Would it not be well, perhaps, he +considered, to propose another little voyage, and, perhaps, on the very +shelf of rock where they had spread their luncheon--a dainty luncheon it +was, he remembered--tell her? He put the thought away at once as +absurdly theatrical. + +No, there was but one thing to do--to go to her, to go to her now, and, +like a man, _tell_ her. It would be over with in half an hour--no +longer, surely, he thought--and then--how good the air would taste, how +blue the sky would seem. + +He had not noticed where his steps were leading him, but now that a +determination to act in the course left open to him had formed, set, and +hardened in his mind, he lifted his eyes and looked about him. + +He was approaching a corner. It was a very familiar corner. There on the +left, ridiculously close to the sidewalk, was the brown house from the +lilac bush in the scant front yard of which he and Florence had often, +of an evening, stolen armfuls of the fragrant blossoms. A street car +dragged along, its one flat wheel thumping, thumping, thumping, with a +deadly sort of iteration. Standing there, he lighted another cigarette. +When would he be here again, he mused. Perhaps in five years he might +come back to a class reunion. Five years would bring many changes, many +confusing changes. The lilac bush, for instance, might not be there in +the front yard of the brown house. He recalled the changes the four +years he had lived in Ann Arbor had brought to the vicinity of his +freshman rooming-house. Come to think of it, he could not even now, +familiar as he was with the town, remember whether that house stood in +Ingalls or Thayer Streets. He could find the place, certainly; that is, +he might locate it after a bit, but---- + +"Houston, you're a fool!" + +He upbraided himself aloud, unconsciously. Then, flinging away his +half-burned cigarette, he turned the corner and walked briskly down the +street. + +The maid admitted him and he waited in the little round room. The shades +were low and the place was filled with shadows, shadows that made the +close walls seem very far apart, and the teak wood bookcase quite +remote. To satisfy himself of the illusion Houston thrust one foot +forward until it touched the lowest shelf. He settled back among the +cushions on the circular seat, then, quite satisfied. + +He heard the soft, cool swish of skirts on the stairs and the next +instant the _portières_ parted and framed Florence. In passing she had +opened the outer door and the light, streaming about her, as for an +instant she stood there, filled the little room with a soft, white glow +that seemed to radiate from her. He did not move; gazed at her simply +before she glided silently to where he sat, and stooping, kissed him. + +She held her cheek close to his an instant then drew away, and moving to +the window raised one of the shades. Her face was turned from him. + +"Jove!" he muttered, "but you're beautiful, Florence--in that--in that +blue thing." + +She turned, at his exclamation, and a little pale ghost of a smile +hovered about her lips. She came to him and sat beside him and took one +of his hands in both hers. + +"Jack, what is it?" she asked, quietly. + +Their eyes met as she spoke, and before his could fall, she said: "Tell +me, tell me what it is----" + +It seemed to him, that instant, that he ceased to breathe. + +He fairly wrenched his eyes from hers. "Flo"--it was not often of late +that he called her by this name of his own invention--"Flo, I--I----" + +"Tell me," she whispered, leaning toward him. + +"Flo, it's all off." + +He got up quickly and strode out into the hallway, and back again. + +He stood beside the bookcase and looked at her, across the room, where +she sat between the windows, the little smile, only, perhaps fainter +now, still hovering about her lips. + +"I understand, dear," she said simply. + +The relief her words carried to him filled him with as keen and as +complete a joy as he had ever felt. + +"I knew you would," he said; "I knew you would--you're so sensible about +things." + +The smile flickered an instant brighter as she replied, with a little +pout, "Oh, Jack, never call a girl '_sensible_': it's as bad as calling +her '_nice_,' and that's like throwing a stone at her." + +He laughed, a little stridently. + +"Come here, dear; sit here and tell me all about it." She made room for +him beside her and held the cushions against the wall till he sank among +them. + +"Is it your father, dear; did you tell _him_?" she asked quietly. + +"No, it isn't," he blurted, frankly. "I wish to Heaven it were." + +"So it's you; just yourself; oh, Jack!" + +How grateful he was for that little note of gay mockery in her voice she +never knew. + +"Can't you tell me all about it?" + +He did not answer at once. + +"Then shall _I_ tell _you_?" she said. He glanced at her appealingly, +but she was still smiling. + +"Well--let's see,--where does it begin? Oh, yes. There was once a boy +came to college, and he fell in with other boys and had the best sort of +time till he met an ogre--no, I mean an ogress--and after that he didn't +have a good time at all----" + +He was smiling now, with her. + +"----And in some foolish way he began to think he liked the ogress--whom +he shouldn't have liked--and she, well, she liked him too, and they +became pals--regular pals--and one day he told her he loved her. He +thought he did. He didn't _really_; but he was to learn _that_ +afterward. So they became engaged--this fine fellow and the ogress. +Silly, wasn't it? Silly of the fine fellow and silly of the ogress. And +for a little while--no,"--she mused--"not a _little_ while; quite a long +while, they were happy; very, very happy. And all the time they were +drifting closer and closer to the edge of a precipice over which they +were sure to take a tumble one day. But before that day came the fine +fellow woke up, for, you see, he'd only been dreaming all the time. And +the ogress wasn't an ogress at all, but just a girl--a _sensible_ +girl...." + +He glanced at her reprovingly. + +" ... just a sensible girl," she went on, "who, when he told her it was +all a dream, said it had been a happy, happy dream, but that perhaps the +awakening had come just in time. Perhaps it has, Jack," there was a note +of seriousness in her voice now. "Perhaps it has; who knows? We shall +think so anyway; shan't we? It will make it easier...." + +"Yes, it will make it easier," he muttered, all the light gone out of +his eyes, the smile from his lips. + +"Jack; you _will_ tell me one thing, won't you, dear?" + +He looked up into her face wonderingly. + +"What is it?" he said. + +"Was there another--another besides the ogress who turned out to be the +sensible girl? Tell me, Jack; it's all I want to know. I don't know why +I should want to know even that; but I do. I guess a girl always does. +Perhaps it's because it usually tends either to light-up things or to +make her still more miserable. I don't know which; only it's at such +times that a girl wants either light or more misery. One seems to do as +well as the other. Tell me--was there, Jack?" + +He met her eyes frankly, as he spoke. + +"Why Flo--I--you see----" He looked away. + +She settled back among the cushions. + +"Flo, you wouldn't understand," he managed to say. "You see, it's----" + +"But I know now," she exclaimed--"and somehow it makes me feel +better----" + +"Flo!" + +She perceived the reproof in his tone and added eagerly: "Don't think I +meant to mock you, dear; I didn't truly. I meant just what I said--and +just that way...." + +Presently he stood up before her and looked down into her face. + +"Flo,"--he spoke earnestly, almost passionately--"Flo, you're a girl in +a million!" + +"There!" she cried gaily, "that's better than '_sensible_.'" + +He smiled. + +"In a million," he repeated as though to himself. "I can never, never +forget you----" + +"Oh, Jack!" Again the old note of playful raillery crept into her voice. +"Now you've gone back. Of course you can't forget me; at least you +mustn't, really you mustn't; it wouldn't be fair." + +He took up his hat from the little table. + +"Are you going?" she asked. + +"I'd better," he said, simply. + +"And shan't I see you again?..." + +Before he could reply she cried: "But I can see you graduate! I can see +you get the Athens scholarship; and I shall too. And oh, Jack, when I +read some day about you I shall be so glad--so glad I'll cry!" As she +spoke he saw the thin mist that he remembered seeing once before, gather +over her eyes again. He touched her lightly on the cheeks with the tips +of his fingers, and, stooping kissed her forehead. + +"Good-bye," he said. + +She took his hand and pressed it. + +"Good-bye--and the best luck in the world!" she cried. + +She heard the door close behind him. For a long time she did not move +from among the cushions. Finally she rose. From the top shelf of the +teak wood bookcase she took down a Japanese rose jar, and from it drew +out a little card portrait of a young sweet-faced girl. She stood at the +window and lifting her eyes from the portrait gazed off down the +street.... The pink faded from her cheeks.... The photograph slipped +from her fingers.... She sank upon her knees and hid her face among the +cushions.... By and by she rose and went out into the hallway and up the +stairs.... + +Her mother, entering below, called to her. + +"I'm up here dressing, dear," she answered. "I had a note from Ed +Trombley--you remember him, mother--a '90 man. His class is having a +reunion and he's back for it. He has asked me to drive to the Lake with +him--you don't care do you?" + +"No child...." + +And the frail, gray-haired woman went quietly into the little round room +with her sewing. + + + + +THE KIDNAPPING + + +I + +The glimpse to be caught of the outer world through the wide west +entrance of the main building, as a scurrying undergraduate, now and +then, leaned sidewise against the heavy door and pushed it back, was not +cheering. There was snow upon the ground; snow that lay not white and +glistening in a strong light, but smudged and indelicate beneath the low +hanging smoke. At either side of the broad, rounded tar walk, now +covered with ashen gray ice, Paddy's plow had piled the snow in two +rows. The maples were gaunt, skeleton-like, and the wind that cried in +their branches was chill to the ear and to the cheek. + +When the thick door was flung back to permit the passage of a youth +becomingly dressed for the season in loose trousers that, not +infrequently, were rolled into high russet lace boots; closely buttoned +coat, above the throat of which rose the blue tower of a sweater collar; +or to allow the entrance of a girl in tam-o'-shanter and furs, her few +books hugged close to her breast, the various notices and handbills on +the bulletin board at the left of the corridor fluttered, often to be +torn from the clips and sent soaring down the hall. + +On the square marble-topped radiator in the middle of the floor opposite +the door of the president's office sat Kerwin. Another youth was +slouching beside him. + +Kerwin knocked his heavy heels against the pipes of the heater and +looked down at his loafing acquaintance with eyes that twinkled +unceasingly. Kerwin was not beautiful. He was round of face--all but his +jaw; that was square. His hair was red and grew in divers "cow licks" +that rendered brushing futile. On the backs of his hands, despite the +season, were large, circular freckles. The frat. pin he wore on the +breast of his blue sweater suggested certain of his characteristics with +singular precision. It was a kite-shaped affair, bordered with tiny +pearls and emeralds, alternating, and the Greek letters across the +middle were Delta Psi Phi. Not by the Greek, however, were the owner's +characteristics indicated--unless, of course, to Kerwin himself--but by +the symbols of the order the insignia of which it was and which +consisted of a weird, staring, human eye--the "white" enamel, and the +"pupil" emerald--, a flat lamp of the sort they are making in Germany +and digging up in Pompeii, and a round, moon-face. + +The little freshman at the radiator had been eyeing the pin curiously +for some minutes. + +"Say," he said finally, and Kerwin looked down. + +"What?" + +"Tell me the meaning of that eye." + +The twinkle grew in Kerwin's own. + +"That!" he exclaimed, burying his chin in the huge collar of the sweater +and pulling out the garment like the cuticle of the elastic-skinned boy, +the better to examine the badge. "Oh, that is the all-seeing eye of the +frat. It means that the fellow who wears our pin--it means that I am +next, that I'm on--up to the game; that no hot air goes with me. See?" + +His eyes met the little independent freshman's squarely and soberly. + +"Oh, does it," the latter replied with interest. "Then what does that +thing mean?" With a chubby forefinger he indicated the lamp. + +"Now, that's different," Kerwin continued, none the less grave. "That is +symbolic of brilliancy. It indicates brilliancy of the highest order. +Yes, siree; a chap's got to be _mighty_ brilliant to wear that!" + +Again their eyes met and the little independent's were alight with +interest still. + +"And that?" It was the moon-face at the bottom of the pin that next came +in for an explanation. The little fellow grinned back at it feelingly. + +"Ah, that's the best of all," Kerwin exclaimed. It was quite as though +he were telling a pretty fairy story to a child. "That denotes +geniality, joviality, and--there's another 'ality' in the list, but I've +forgotten it for the moment. You understand, though, don't you?" + +"Oh, yes, I understand." + +And then--this is hard to believe--what did that little freshman do but +ask: + +"Say, what do you think my chances are of ever wearing a pin like that?" + +Kerwin almost fell off the radiator. He had heard of freshmen as fresh +as this one, but at the stories of such he had always smiled, regarding +them as pleasant fictions. Recovering, he realized that his duty was to +disillusion the youth who awaited his reply, with a look of anxiety in +his clear eyes. So---- + +"Very slim," he replied, brutally, sliding off his marble perch. "Very +slim indeed! You see," he added, buttoning his coat and measuring with +his eye the distance to the transverse corridor, "you're too bloomin' +fresh ever to wear anything but a cornflower, or a wood-violet at best." + +He ran then, and, even before the little independent realized the full +significance of the speech, was out of sight. + +It was quite two minutes later by the clock above the president's door +that the blush began to mount the youngster's cheeks. He gathered his +books under one arm and tiptoed down the corridor, staring at the floor +and regretting heartily that he had even so much as mentioned the +pictures on his classmate's--his wiser classmate's--pin. + +But the displeasure that he suffered so keenly, the chagrin that forbade +a lifting of his eyes, and the realization--harder to bear than the +rest--that he had displayed his freshness so frankly, were emotions of +the moment only, for when, two weeks later, his "stringer" came up +before his class as the fraternity candidate for the toast-mastership he +cast his ballot for him regardless of the fact that his own independent +brethren had put forward a man as well. For, you see, that was Kerwin's +way of making friends; perhaps not the best way, to be sure, but, in +Kerwin's case, justified by its success. + +On behalf of their man the independent faction waged a valiant fight. +Campus legend told them that for many years their class ancestors had +seen victory wrested from them, once almost at the moment of victory, so +in caucus they decided that they had "stood it long enough." + +"Winning or not," an enthusiastic speaker cried on that occasion, "we'll +show 'em a few things." + +And show them a few things they did, but the things didn't count, in the +wholly unexpected incident that occurred, of a sudden, to cast them into +confusion, panic, chaos. + +Norse was their "man." After the first ballot all was rosy for a little +minute and then what did Norse do but rise in his seat, and with a +calmness that was appalling withdraw in Kerwin's favor! It was a +proceeding entirely unprecedented. The jaws of the fraternity men +dropped. As for the independents they merely gazed at one another, +blinking, their cheeks colorless. + +In the silence some one with a grain of reason left in working order +moved that Kerwin's election be made unanimous. The independents forgot +to vote. There was not a solitary "nay." It was the succeeding cheer +that aroused the independents finally. They hissed; they wrangled; and a +girl was seen quickly to draw away from a group near which she was +standing, for a youth with eyeglasses and long hair had used a few +words that were hardly delicate. + +As Kerwin was rushed down the room to the rostrum he heard some one ask, +with cutting sarcasm, "Is Norse looking for a bid from your frat.?" + +Kerwin took no note of the irony, replying, "He ought to have one." As +he stepped behind the chairman's table he turned suddenly, and brought +his fist down hard, exclaiming: "By Jove! I see now how it was!" + +"How?" a henchman at his elbow asked, eagerly. + +"Why, I helped out Norse in the entrance exam. in geometry. Never +occurred to me till this minute. He sat next me; told me in the hall +geom. was what he was afraid of. I didn't pass him a pony but I gave him +a couple of cues. I guess this is his way of repaying me. Wait a +second." He broke through the crescent that had formed in front of the +table. + +Deserted by all his former champions who, with sneers and dire threats +flung in his direction had left, Norse still sat by a window at the +back, bent over a copy of that day's issue of the _U. of M. Daily_. +Kerwin went to him and held out his hand, which the other took, +grinning. They talked in undertones a minute and as Kerwin joined his +heelers at the table Norse strode out of the room. + +"That was it!" the victor exclaimed radiantly. "That's why he did +it--what I said. I asked him straight out if it was to curry favor with +the frat. crowd and he said it wasn't. Said he couldn't join one if he +wanted to. His father thinks they're no good. I told him maybe the gang +would try to even up with him for withdrawing. He grinned and said 'let +'em.' He's all right, fellows. We've got to play square with him. I +offered him the best toast on the list right off the bat--'The +Girls'--but he wouldn't accept it. Said he guessed he'd rather not. Said +he's no good talking to a crowd, and doesn't know enough about girls to +have an opinion one way or the other." + +"Better take him over to Ypsilanti," a youthful Don Juan cried. + +"Gee! He is fresh!" another ventured. + +"What does he want, anyway?" was asked. + +"Nothing. Wouldn't it kill you?" Kerwin replied. "I told him he'd better +look out they don't try to do him up." + +"You'd better keep your own eye peeled," was suggested by a little +fellow on the outer edge of the crescent. "They're sore clear +through--turned down for ten years running. Better stay in nights, or +you'll show up at the banquet with no hair or an iodine-face, if you +even show up at all----" + +"Don't you believe it!" Kerwin exclaimed, with rare bravado. "Norse said +he'd help me if they get funny. He's a husky guy; did you get a good +look at him, fellows? I'm not worrying about the independents any; it's +the sophomores I'm going to keep my eyes on. I inferred from what Norse +said, there's something in the air. If he finds out what it is he'll put +me next. We can depend on him, fellows. He's a regular crackerjack!" + +"Well, don't be too sure of yourself," was the significant warning that +caused Kerwin to exclaim: + +"Rot! Let 'em come--let 'em _all_ come! Don't you fellows lie awake +nights worrying about little Willie. He's old enough to sit up and take +notice." + +And the crescent in front of the table broke. + +It was gratitude simply that prompted Kerwin to take Norse to Ypsilanti +one evening during the week following and make him known to a Miss +Myrtle Green of the normal school. It was obvious to Kerwin that Norse's +ignorance of girls was not due to any disinclination on his part to +abolish that state. Indeed he seemed to hunger for knowledge on the +subject. As for Miss Green she seemed quite willing to instruct him. He +became a regular caller. The other girls learned to speak of him as +"Myrtle's steady." And Myrtle seemed agreeable that he should continue +just that. + + +II + +February promised to go out like a thousand lions. Toward noon on the +twenty-fourth it began to snow, listlessly, at first, but more thickly +as nightfall approached. The next morning the townsfolk awoke to find +their homes half buried in a white, downy mass as thick as the height of +the fences. + +It was a morning of fine sport. Old men and young turned out with a will +to clean the walks of the city. It was hard work for strong hands +manipulating broad wooden shovels, for so deep was the snow that after a +few feeble attempts Paddy, the plowman, was forced to give in and urge +his plunging horse back to the stable. His plow was useless. + +The oldest resident experienced such pleasure as had not been his for +many years. He reveled in vague recollections of the winter of 1830 when +the snow--according to him--had fallen "a mite deeper," and the farmers, +living along the main highways, had been compelled to combine their +genius and their strength in digging tunnels to the market! + +That day and the following were clear and crisp. Every one wore green +spectacles. Cases of snow-blindness were numerous; and then, toward +evening on the twenty-sixth, the mercury, which for thirty-six hours had +hovered near the zero-point, began slowly to rise. At midnight a weak, +half-hearted rain set in. The next noon, with that mischievousness in +which the elements of our zone not infrequently indulge, a strong +piercing wind, straight from the north, swept down the state. At seven +o'clock that night the common thermometers registered five degrees below +zero and a shimmering crust of ice an inch thick lay upon the land. + +Across the fields and over the fences the farmers drove, in heavy +bob-sleds, into town. In the southwest corner of the state a new sect +was born whose leaders proclaimed the dawn of the Age of Ice and +beseeched the people to look to their souls, before the final +congealment of all things. + +In town a season of gaiety ensued. Numbers of art students proceeded to +the open spots upon the campus, and, with hatchets, cut out of the crust +gigantic caricatures of well-known instructors. With the zeal and +yo-heave-ho of lumber-jacks they raised the figures upright supporting +them with props, and the campus became, as if by magic, adorned with +profile statues of professors! + +General as was the interest in the unique entertainment a kind nature +had provided, there were certain sophomores who, shunning the spectacle +afforded by the decorated campus, sought the seclusion of a certain +back-room down-town where they evolved a plan of hazing that promised to +be entirely overlooked in the interest otherwise occasioned. + +Thus far Kerwin had not been molested and had begun to think that at +least one banquet was to pass without a recurrence of those adventures +which for years had made it notable among the events of the college +year. + +"There's too much else to interest them," he said to Norse, one morning +in the State Street Billiard Hall. "If they were up to any stunts we'd +have heard before this, with the banquet coming off day after to-morrow. +It's all easy sailing, thanks to the ice." + +Norse, however, was not so certain. "You can't tell," he said, with a +significant wag of his head. "Maybe this keeping-still now means action +at the last minute. What do your own freshmen say?" + +"There's not one in the frat. who thinks they'll attempt anything," +Kerwin replied. "And as for the sophomores, they say there's too much +going on for them to waste time fooling with a dinky freshman +toastmaster." + +Norse's doubts were not, however, to be so easily dispelled. "You'd +better keep an eye out," he advised. "I'll help you all I can. If I get +next to anything I'll let you know." + +But neither that day nor the day after did he hear a word that sounded +in the least suspicious, but on Friday he did; and thus wise: + +At noon he met Kerwin again in the billiard hall. + +The toastmaster drew him to one side. "I'm fixed," he whispered with a +grin of satisfaction. + +"How?" Norse asked. + +"Got my dress suit hid." + +"Where, in the furnace?" + +"No; better'n that. You know that built-in closet in my room? Yes. Well, +the top of it is lower than it seems to be from the front, and I've put +my suit, and dress-shirt, and all, up there. Such a simple way of hiding +the stuff they'll never think of, if they get into the room while I'm +away." + +"Anybody know about it?" + +"Not a soul but you." + +"Good. It does look as if they were going to let you alone, but you +can't be too careful the rest of the day. What are you going to do this +afternoon?" + +Kerwin was going to do many things; he was going to be busier than a +puppy with a bone, he said. + +"You see," he explained, "I want the affair to go off as smooth as oil; +and, by Jove, it's going to, if I've got anything to say about it. What +were you going to do?" + +Norse had planned to go skating. + +"Go on," Kerwin urged, then perceiving that his friend hesitated, he +added, slapping him sturdily on the back, "Don't you have any fear for +me. Go on. I wish I might go but I simply can't; and that's all there is +to it." + +"If you think it's safe, all right," Norse said. + +"Safe!" Kerwin exclaimed, flauntingly. "Of course its safe. Go on!" + +So Norse went. + +It was half-past five, and quite dark, when he clambered over the high +iron fence at the Michigan Central station, and started to climb the +slippery State Street hill. The chimes, ringing out from the library +tower in the crisp air, were clear and genuinely musical. For four hours +he had skated over the flats above the pulp-mill. He noted mentally, +now, that he would telephone Myrtle in the morning and have her come +over for the afternoon. Skating alone is all very well for exercise, but +not much in the way of pleasure, he considered. His skates, dangling +from a strap over his shoulder, clinked, musically, as he picked his way +with exceeding caution along the icy pavement. A moon was due in an hour +and the street-lamps were unlighted. When he reached the top of the hill +and saw ahead of him the street flooded with the golden glow of the +store illuminations, he suddenly recalled the box of flash-light powder +that he had, till now, forgotten. Myrtle had expressed a desire for a +picture of her room to send "back home," and he had promised to take +one. He would, he thought, secure a box at once and have done with it. +He recalled having read in one of Heenan's _U. of M. Daily_ +advertisements that a full line of photographers' supplies was carried. +He noticed several cameras and plate-holders in the window as he entered +the store. It was the supper hour and the single salesman was busy with +a customer at the rear. She was examining the stock of tissue paper. +Innumerable rolls lay before her on the table. Taking advantage of her +indecision, the salesman served Norse, then returned to the girl who +couldn't quite make up her mind whether she desired her lamp-shade to be +pink or pale blue. + +On a table in front of the fireplace, across the store, stood several +tall piles of a new and exceedingly popular magazine. Norse lingered a +moment to read the announcement poster. Thus engaged there fell upon +his ear the sound of voices. Unconsciously listening he made out a word +now and then of what seemed an earnest conversation carried on in +undertone. And then he heard mentioned a name that caused him to start +and cast a quick glance to the rear of the store where the salesman was +still busy with the girl who could not make up her mind. The speakers +whom he could not see were on the other side of the piles of magazines, +in front of the fireplace. Norse craned forward, eagerly. He heard a +throat cleared, and then these words, quite distinctly: + +"At seven o'clock, eh? Ain't it funny he's not to be at his frat. +house?" + +"No; not under the circumstances," was the indefinite reply. "He doesn't +suspect anything." + +Norse grinned with sardonic delight. + +"Don't you think it's a bloomin' long way to take him, Billy?" + +"Oh, I don't know," was the reply. "It ain't over three miles." + +Every muscle in Norse's body was tense, every nerve on edge. + +"I know," he heard, "but it's so blasted cold. We don't want him to +freeze on our hands." + +"He won't. Morton lugged an oil stove out there yesterday. We can get +some blankets at the livery." + +Norse felt all hot, yet he shivered. + +"Say." + +He held his breath. + +"What?" + +He gripped the edge of the table. + +"Do you think the place is really haunted?" + +Could Norse, that instant, have given way to the rare delight that +overcame him, he would have flung his skates through the great +plate-glass window of the store in a very riot of joy. His eyes became +all alight. He drew away noiselessly. + +As he slipped out of the store he was observed neither by the interested +clerk nor by the two stocky young men to whose conversation he had +listened with such rapt attention, and who, that instant, stepped from +behind the counter into the aisle. Before they reached the door he was +speeding up State Street, past Tut's, past the Congregational Church, +past the First Ward School, past Newberry Hall, thoughtless of the icy +pavement, and, apparently, of the fact that a slip might mean the +failure of the plan he outlined as he ran. + + +III + +Kerwin's fraternity house stood on a prominent corner three blocks +above the book-store. Norse rushed up the steps and inside without +stopping to take breath. There was no one in the smoking-room; that is +to say, no one but a high school pledgling, who sat in front of the +fire, reading, and pledglings don't count. + +"Is Kerwin here?" Norse gasped, leaning heavily against the door. + +The youth at the fire turned, nonchalantly, and removing a cigarette +from between his lips, as calmly as though panting freshmen with +obviously loaded minds were but ordinary phenomena, replied: + +"No. Saw him going out just as I came in. Said he wouldn't be back to +dinner." + +"Where did he go?" + +"No idea." The pledgling flecked the ash from his cigarette. + +"Well, I'm going up to his room a minute," Norse cried, turning back +into the hallway. + +"Told you he isn't there!" the infant called after him; but Norse did +not seem to hear. + +He knew the location of Kerwin's room from previous visits. Now he found +it deserted. He perceived all the appointments with one sweep of his +eyes--the signs, the tennis-net draped between the front windows and +sagging with photographs, the huge Japanese umbrella dependent from the +ceiling with many little favors and a multitude of dance cards dangling +from the rim, the black-oak study-table, the swivel chair in front of +it, the Comedy Club poster on the door, and the closet that projected +rudely into the room. + +A hand-bag lay on the floor in a corner. Norse did not pause to reflect, +as, being the leading man in a stirring melodrama, he should have done. +He acted without reflection, mechanically almost; but when he started +back down the stairs, which he took in three leaps, he carried the +hand-bag, stuffed, now, and fat. + +"What you got there?" the pledgling called as the figure passed the +smoking-room. + +Norse did not waste breath replying. + +The library clock was striking six as he issued into the street. He had +the work of an hour to accomplish in twenty-five minutes. Some freshmen, +under the circumstances, would have gritted their teeth and cursed. +Norse only gritted his teeth, for he was of another sort. Up South +University Avenue to Washtenaw he ran. There, on the northwest corner, +was a huge stone, set, doubtless, to prevent delivery boys from running +their wagons over the curbing. The wind had blown the snow clear of this +stone and Norse sank upon it, half exhausted. He proceeded to fix his +skates to the soles of his heavy shoes without waiting to regain his +breath. He stood up to test the clamps. They gripped viciously. Ahead +lay the road, gleaming in the pale light. Norse smiled. Through the +handles of the satchel he passed the skate strap and thrust his head +through the loop, that the bag might swing against his back. He dug the +point of one skate into the gritty crust, struck out with long, even +strokes, and began a swift ascent of the Scott Hill on the Middle Road +to Ypsilanti. + + +IV + +Fifteen years ago there were four distinct and widely separated haunted +houses in the vicinity of Ann Arbor. One, in West Huron Street, was for +years pointed out to naughty children as the home of the original bogey +man. On an occasion,--so the story goes--three seniors resolved to spend +a night in the ticklish place for the purpose of determining +scientifically the causes of the strange knockings and human groans that +previous tenants had complained of. The results of their investigations +were never known. The seniors were never seen again! + +That is the tale. The circulation of it tended to make their +abiding-place secure to the spirits for many years. But at last an +owner braver than those before him, and fortified by innumerable +expressions of contempt in which a picturesque and virile profanity +played a leading part, proceeded without more ado to raze the ancient +structure to the ground. + +His action gave rise to a second story. It became generally understood +that the spirits, their own home gone, joined forces with the ghostly +occupants of the second haunted house in nightly carryings-on. Then this +house was rent asunder. + +Thus it went until the time of this story when there remained but one +authentic haunted house in town. Its location added to the mystery +supposed to surround it. It capped a bleak hill on the left of the +so-called "Middle Road" to Ypsilanti. Behind it loomed a dense wood and +to the right and left stretched dreary fields, deserted save by the +gophers and chipmunks whose superstition seemed not to warrant their +leaving the premises after establishing or disestablishing the presence +of ghostly occupants in the bleak house on the hill. + +The place was consistently pointed out to strangers as the midnight +carnival-ground of the devil and his imps, and it was further gravely +averred that horses shied in passing after nightfall. + +Such was the weird spot to which Norse, independent freshman, skated, +one freezing night, on the crust of that famous winter, to save a friend +from the hands of the enemy. + +At the bottom of the hill he stopped to _reconnoitre_. The blue-black of +the heavens seemed strangely less dense above the house. Now and then a +weird shimmer passed back and forth across the ragged wall. No light +shone anywhere. Several of the windows gaped black, like open mouths, +waiting to devour. Others were boarded. Up the path from the gate the +door careened on one rotting hinge. In the summer this path was a +shallow of tangled weeds, but now the crust lay level across it. + +Norse advanced stealthily to the open door. The silence was thick. He +removed his skates and tiptoed within. A breath of wind whistled through +the warped clap-boards and the old house sighed. Tumbling stairs led to +the floor above. Stooping, and feeling the steps ahead of him, he +ascended. + +At the top of the flight he struck a match, shielding the flame with his +curved palm. In the faint illumination he perceived the second story to +consist of two connecting rooms of unequal size with the larger at the +front. Against the rear wall of the back room stood an old bin, at one +time probably used for storing grain. In the corner of the front room +was an oil stove; near it, a can. Lighting another match Norse deposited +the satchel and his skates in the bin and tested the cover. The hinges +did not creak and seemed firm. He looked at his watch. It was half-past +seven. + +He went into the front room and crouching, peered through a crack +between the boards of the window. As far as he could see in either +direction the road was deserted. A pale moon was rising behind black +clouds. + +In all probability Kerwin would be accompanied by two--possibly +three--kidnappers. He would be bound, of course, and, more than likely, +gagged. His guard would observe the greatest care. He would not be +misused. + +Norse ceased procrastinating. He realized that in one hour the +representative freshmen would be gathering around the banquet board, +spread in Nickels Hall on State Street, away back in town. Undetermined +as to the means of accomplishment he was none the less conscious of the +work that lay before him. It rested with him--with him, alone--to +produce the toastmaster at the banquet, if not at its beginning, in +time, at least, to announce the first toast.... + +He heard a slight scraping noise outside and crouching peered through +the crack again. That instant the thin moon mounted the bank of clouds +and cast a ghostly light upon the scene. + +A hack on runners had drawn up at the gate. The door was opened from +within and two men alighted. One of them stood at the step while the +other held a whispered conversation with the driver; then, with his +companion, he helped a third man out of the carriage. The hack drew away +at once, turned and started back in the direction of town. + +The young man at the window could not distinguish the features of the +two men supporting a third between them who seemed to be hobbled, for +the brims of their hats were pulled low over their faces. Save for the +slight crunch as the trio advanced toward the house there was no sound. +Norse tiptoed back into the smaller room. He held out his arms and his +fingers touched the corner of the grain-bin. He heard footsteps that +advanced, then stopped, on the floor below. He heard the crack of a +match as it was struck. He lifted the cover of the bin carefully, threw +one leg over the edge, felt the floor under his foot, drew the other leg +after him, and sank, lowering the lid as he did so, like a trap-door. + +The bin was sufficiently large to permit of sitting with a certain +degree of comfort. With his fingers he detected several cracks in the +front wall. By twisting he could bring his eyes to the level of them. +Groping he touched the hand-bag with his right hand and drew it nearer. +The next moment he heard the stairs creak. He held his breath as the +trio entered the room in front. One of them carried a dark lantern and +in the pale illumination it afforded, Norse recognized Kerwin's captors +and smiled. + +Kerwin was blindfolded. The gag he wore was a tightly twisted +handkerchief drawn taut through his mouth and tied behind. His hands +were tied at his back. The taller of the kidnappers carried two horse +blankets over his arm, one of which he flung upon the floor beside the +oil stove. His companion set the lantern in the corner and stooping in +front of the stove proceeded to light it. Kerwin stood in the middle of +the floor. The man who had spread the blanket came around in front of +him and placing a hand on either shoulder pushed him back. Bumping him +into the wall he bore down upon him growling in a voice obviously +assumed and grossly piratical: "Sit there!" + +Kerwin slumped upon the blanket. The stove lighted, the kidnappers +squatted in front of it and one of them produced a pipe and pouch of +tobacco. Striking a match he said: "Well, how d'ye like the banquet?" + +Kerwin shook his head. + +"Let's take out that gag; he dassent yell," proposed the second outlaw. + +"Aw right...." + +They untied the handkerchief. Kerwin had worn it so long it was +difficult at first for him to get his mouth back into its normal shape. +For an instant his face resembled that of a gargoyle. + +"Cold?" he was asked. + +"A little," he replied. There was an utter absence of rancor in his +tone. + +The bandit nearest him drew the second blanket over his legs. + +"Say, won't you fellows tie my hands in front of me.... I'm sittin' on +'em and they feel as though they were dead...." + +"Sure we will, turn over." + +He offered no resistance. + +"You sure you ain't cold?... We don't want you to catch cold." + +"No, I'm not cold," the captive replied. + +Silence ensued which lasted some minutes. + +Finally one of them ventured, glancing over his shoulder: "Well, we +ain't seen any ghosts yet, have we, Billy?" + +"Nope," was the dogged reply. + +Billy extended his leg and kicked Kerwin on the ankle. + +"Ever in a haunted house before?" he asked. + +"Not that I remember," Kerwin answered. + +"Guess you'd remember if you had been," suggested Billy. "Used to be one +down in my town about six years ago. Fellow murdered there once, they +said. Funniest things used to happen.... A hand would open the doors in +front of you. You could see the tracks of a man's bare-feet in the dust +when you went up-stairs...." + +"Aw, shut up, Billy, cancha!" his companion muttered edging near him. +"What's the use talkin' such stuff?" + +"Why, I was just tellin' you," Billy replied, defensively. "I never took +any stock in the stories, but one day, a fellow by the name of +Thurber--Hank Thurber, regular dare-devil sort of chap--swore _he'd_ +spend the night in that house or die in the attempt. Next morning he +didn't show up. The town marshal went to find him. He found him all +right. It was in one of the up-stairs' rooms, and there he sat in a +busted chair, stone dead, with his fishy eyes staring at a hole in the +wall. They got a bundle of old letters out of the hole. Seems it was a +sort of secret cupboard in the first place, and had been plastered +over. That wasn't all though; they found Thurber's dog jammed into the +fireplace of a room down-stairs, with his neck broken...." + +"Good Heavens! Billy! Billy! What was that!" + +The story-teller caught himself quickly and he and his companion turned +frightened eyes upon each other. In that moment's stillness they noted +that the wind had freshened. Something creaked somewhere. Billy clutched +his companion's leg. + +"What was it?" His whisper rasped. + +"Thought I heard something click...." + +"Sure?" + +"Sure's I'm sittin' here...." + +"Where'd it seem to come from?" + +"I dunno; thought it was--in there." He indicated the little room behind +with a jerk of his head. + +"Aw, 'twasn't anything; old rusty nail snapped, probably, in the wind." +Billy swaggered with a monstrous assumption of bravery. There was more +silence for a moment, then Billy went on: + +"I was just tellin' you 'bout that haunted house down home...." + +"Say, Billy, shut up, cancha? I don't care a _darn_ 'bout that haunted +house, I'm...." + +"Come off! You ain't really afraid of ghosts, are you?" + +"Well, maybe I ain't, but...." + +"What's the matter with you, anyway?" + +"Never you mind, I----" + +He broke off suddenly and his face went ashy pale. + +"Did you see that?" he cried. "Did you see that! Like a blue flame!" + +He got upon his feet unsteadily. His mouth was open; his eyes were +staring. + +"Why, what's the matter? You ain't drunk, are you? What did you +see----?" + +"_See! Look!_" + +Billy wheeled like a flash. A light of dazzling brilliancy shone for an +instant, and in the smaller room, through the doorway of which they +gazed as though transfixed, floated a gossamer of unholy, blue smoke. +Then, before the instant became an æon, they saw rise, as though from +the very heart of the dazzle, the upper-half of a white, shrouded form. +One arm waved sweepingly toward them. Before the æon died an unearthly +screech rent the silence, followed by a scuffle and thug as both youths +rushed down the stairs. They sped into the road and the deep shadows of +the woods swallowed them. + + +V + +Blindfolded, Kerwin had seen nothing, but the dazzle had pierced the +covering of his eyes and he had felt the light, and he had _heard_. His +head was like thistle-down borne on the wings of a zephyr. He attempted +to move, to call out. A deadly nausea overcame him. He realized that he +was fainting. Then, of a sudden, his melting senses took form again, as +he heard a familiar voice cry: + +"Kerwin, old chap!... By Jove! We'll fool 'em yet, if you hurry!" + +And at that the handkerchief was torn from his eyes and he looked up +blinking into the beaming countenance of Norse. + +Norse did not wait to explain. He cut the twine binding his friend's +hands and flung down the satchel within the circle of the lantern light. + +"What are you looking at?" he asked, tersely, stooping to open the bag +and noting Kerwin's steady gaze fixed upon him. + +"_For Heaven's sake what have you got on!_" + +"What ... got ..." And Norse burst out laughing. + +"What have I got on?" he cried. "I've got on your dress-shirt---- Made +me look more like a ghost." He whipped the garment off. "And now you get +into it just as quick as you can!" he added. + +For a brief moment a light of puzzlement lingered in Kerwin's eyes. + +"Here's the collar and tie." Norse handed them to him. "And here's your +dress-suit---- You see I overheard them talking it over---- I looked for +you---- Then I came out here---- I'd a box of flash-light powder in my +pocket---- That's all. I thought it was all up when they heard the +satchel click. You see I'd opened it to get out your shirt. I had to put +a good deal of trust in Providence!..." + +"But Norsey...." + +"Never mind talking! Hustle, man! Hustle!" + +"I know, but...." + +"There; there are your trousers.... Freeze if it wasn't for that stove, +eh? Thoughtful of them, wasn't it? Here's your vest! What's the matter? +Can't you button your collar? Scott, man, you've got to hustle! Touched +her off just the right time, eh? Worked themselves all up talking about +that other haunted.... Here's your coat! Say, you've got to hustle to +make it; there's not over twenty minutes to spare!..." + +"But, Norsey, it's no use. I can't get back to town in twenty minutes. +Why, it will take two hours, walking over that crust...." + +"You're not going to walk.--Gad! Here, let me tie that bow for you! +Say, but you've got to hustle!..." + +"Not going to walk! You don't mean to say you've got a carriage...." + +"Hardly. Just time to get here myself." + +"Well, I'd like to know, then, how...." + +"_You're going to skate back to town, that's how--on my skates!_" + +He rushed into the little room, and returning, held out his skates to +Kerwin. Kerwin didn't seize them. He seized the youth's hand. + +"Norsey," he muttered, with the faintest suggestion of a tremor in his +voice, "you're the best old pal a chap ever had...." + +"Oh, never mind the bouquets," Norse broke in. "Lemme see; you got all +your clothes on? Those shoes are pretty bad for a swell function; but +they'll be under the table. Yes, I guess you're all right. Take these +skates and clamp 'em while I pack your other clothes in the satchel. +Lucky you told me where you'd hid 'em.... Say, you've got to carry this +bag back, Kerry.... I lugged it out." + +"Of course, I'll carry it back; but Norsey"--Kerwin lowered his voice +and glanced about him--"you don't suppose they're hanging around here +somewhere, do you?" + +Norse looked up from the packing. "Hanging around here!" he exclaimed. +"Around _here_! Great Heavens, man! They're a million miles from here +and runnin' yet if they're still alive and not scared to death. You +ready?" + +Kerwin slung the satchel over his shoulder. "Am I all right?" he asked. + +Norse stepped back and regarded him curiously, a little smile playing +around his mouth. Kerwin's face was very grimy. It looked almost black +in the shadow above the white shirt-bosom, and there were three or four +unmistakable smudges on that. Moreover it was a cold night for a man to +skate three or four miles in evening clothes. + +"My! You look funny!" Norse laughed. "But what's the difference?" he +added. "Come on...." + +Taking him by the arm he steadied him down the creaking stairs. "Now you +can go it like the wind, right up to the door of Nickles," he said at +the gate. "Are you ready?" + +Kerwin dug the toe of his right skate into the crust and crouched like +an animal about to spring. + +"Go!" + +For a moment his body was poised like a blot above the brow of the hill, +then it disappeared. + +Norse heard his name shouted. He ran forward and peered down. + +"What's up?" he called. + +"Nothing. I just wanted to say I'll suggest the toast 'The Kidnapping' +and then you'll tell the whole tale. It'll make 'em look like a postage +stamp...." + +Norse laughed. "Why, I'm not going to your darn banquet," he said. + +"Not going! The idea! You are, too, going." + +"No, I'm not," Norse contended, "I've got something else to do...." + +"What?" + +"I've got to go over to Ypsilanti and tell Miss Green I can't take that +picture of her room till next week. I'm as near there now as I am +home...." + +Before Kerwin could call to him again he turned on his heel and walked +away. + +Fifty yards along he glanced back over his shoulder. What he saw caused +a sort of Mephistophelian grin to curve his lips. + +Smoke, like a billowy veil in the moonlight, was rolling from the +unboarded windows of the haunted house, and through the cracks he +glimpsed the dance of flames. + +"The stove must have been kicked over in the shuffle," he muttered, +unctuously. + +A moment he stood there watching the growth of the fire, then, +resolutely turning his face to the east, he moved on down the icy road. + + + + +THE CHAMPIONS + + +I + +"You can't do it, Nibs,--you can't do it--you may have the spurt speed, +but you haven't got the wind." + +"Rot--why, you don't know what you're talking about, Jimmy; I can beat +him forty ways. _Look at those legs!_" + +And the lank creature thrust them into view and patted them +affectionately between the knee and the hip. + +"Oh, I know you've got the legs, Nibs," was the indifferent reply, "it's +the wind you're shy of." + +"What does wind amount to in a hundred yards, I'd like to know? All a +fellow needs is a good breath at the pistol. A good one will carry him +over the string." The speaker leaned across the table; "Now, on the +square, Jimmy, don't you think I can beat Billy Shaw?" he asked eagerly. + +The young man opposite, tilting back his chair, eyed his companion +critically from under half-dropped lids. He flecked the ash from his +cigarette, scrupulous that it should not dust his clothes, and said +slowly, and more as though by way of encouragement than expressive of an +opinion--"Well, of course, there's a chance." + +Nibs smiled broadly, at that, and settled back, apparently quite +satisfied. + +"I knew you were joking," he said. + +It was a Saturday evening. Had the dial of the Court House clock been +illuminated, it would have shown the hour to be half-past seven. On the +corner, a gasolene lamp was burning at the top of a weather-stained +post. In front of the Opera House an Uncle Tom's Cabin band was +straining at the melancholy air, "Massa's In de Col', Col' Ground," +played in _circus tempo_. Now and then was heard the scuffle of hurrying +feet on the tar walk outside. + +Nibs Morey and Jimmy Hulburt sat in silence for a space. + +No one had ever been able--if, indeed, any one had sought--to fathom the +friendship that for two years had been maintained unbroken between these +two. Perhaps it was due to the counter effect of Hulburt's derision of +Morey's abundant conceit, for had Nibs Morey been asked to cite an +instance of Jimmy's championing him, he, positively, would have failed. +It was the one's lack, or expressed lack, of confidence in the other, +that evenly balanced the other's really splendid confidence in himself. + +When first Nibs had expressed his intention of posting a challenge to +Billy Shaw on the Bulletin Board in the Main Hall, Jimmy had sniffed and +sneered derisively. + +"What's the use making a Jack of yourself?" he asked. + +"Who's going to?" Nibs replied, tartly. + +"You are. He'll beat you by a rod," was the cool retort. + +"Don't you believe it." + +"Well, I do." + +"You needn't." + +"All right; we'll see." + +And Jimmy did see, and it was a glorious sight--a splendid picture of a +righteous triumph in which the best man won; to revel in the joy of +victory a space, and then to meet, and join in combat, with a foeman +vastly worthier of his steel. For, in spite of Jimmy's +discouragement--which could not have been that, really, and perhaps was +not even meant for that--Nibs posted the challenge. + +It was written in huge letters, that all who ran might read, and was +made doubly conspicuous, by its poster style, among the score or more +announcements of class-meetings, conferences, and graduate-events that +fluttered with it on the Board. + +Nibs hung up the challenge one evening while the janitor's back was +turned. He carried it into the corridor folded beneath his coat. +Satisfied that they were not observed, he drew it out and spread it upon +the long, marble-topped radiator, and invited the criticism of Jimmy, +the which Jimmy was not loth to utter. + +"Big as a barn, eh?" he said, sniffing. + +"But I want him surely to see it," the author of the broadside replied, +tilting his head and viewing his work admiringly in the dim light of the +slim chandelier above. + +"Well, I'm still thinking you're a fool,--a blamed big fool." + +"Don't you think he'll accept?" Nibs asked eagerly, passing lightly over +Jimmy's expression of what appeared at least superficially to be a +definite opinion. + +"Of course he will, that's just it; he'll see it and he'll accept it, +and he'll beat the life out of you," was the discouraging rejoinder. +"Hurry, hang it up," he added, "I don't want to wait here all night." +And Jimmy slouched away in the direction of the great door. + +So the document challenging Billy Shaw to run against Nibs Morey in +State Street, on the evening of October nineteenth, at seven o'clock, +was forthwith tacked upon the Board to the complete concealment of one +bill announcing the publication of the Palladium, and another displayed +to notify the scornful that the Dramatic Club would--at an early +date--repeat its marvelously successful and delicately artistic +performance of "Among the Breakers." + +"There! I guess he'll take notice, now!" exclaimed the joyous Nibs, +stepping back from the board, and gazing at the poster proudly. + +"And so will all the University," replied Jimmy, not, however, without a +secret pride in the valor of his friend, after all; for Billy Shaw, the +prospective opponent, had brought with him to Ann Arbor a country record +for swift running that was not to be considered lightly, even by a +sprinter of the attainments of Nibs Morey. + +All efforts to match the two had thus far failed. It was Nibs' zeal, +purely, though tempered, of course, by his fine conceit, that prompted +the posting of the challenge now--a zeal to prove--perhaps to Jimmy, +more than to the others--his wisdom, and the justification of his own +abundant confidence. And the challenge thus publicly offered achieved +the end that Nibs had hoped it might. + +There is record in undergraduate history of the excitement that +prevailed upon the campus the day after its publication. No one seemed +to doubt Billy Shaw's acceptance of it. He would have to run now, or +ever after hold his peace,--they said--an alternative not to the relish +of a youth of his temperament. And he did accept the challenge, and he +did run; and bets were made, and money was won and lost, all to the +undying credit of Alma Mater, who looked on, smiling, proud of her sons +in their glorious youth, their honor and their prowess. + + +II + +For a week, now, the Gown had been speculating; placing its bets with +the Town eagerly, enthusiastically, and many of those bets--sad to +relate--were on the wrong side of the book, so far as Nibs Morey was +concerned. When Jimmy, learning the way of the wind, informed his friend +of the odds against him, with all the coldness of a perfect enmity, Nibs +experienced his first twinge of uneasiness. For the Gown, loyal to its +foreign upholder, Billy--in the excess of its patriotism and without +regard to possible consequences such as unpaid laundry bills, and +staved-off tailor accounts--had wagered against poor Nibs, who, though +he was _of_ the Gown, cannot be said to have been _with_ it. He +suffered the misfortune of having been born and reared within a scant +stone's throw of the main building, the which, it may be noted in +passing, he had, for half a dozen years, held as a grudge against his +parents, to the perplexity of his sister Wilma, who found only a keen +enjoyment in her college home and in the shifting aspects of the college +life around her. + +The event that Nibs longed for was only a week away, and his friend +seemed to take rare delight in deriding the hardihood that had prompted +the posting of the challenge. + +"Well," Nibs said, at last, breaking his long legs at the knee, and +rising from the table, laboriously, "maybe he will beat me,--but he +won't do it hands down--he won't do it in a walk, anyway." + +"Oh, I don't know," was the cool retort of Jimmy, and stepping down into +the street he added, "you can't always tell." + +Nibs had not once chided his friend for his seeming lack of confidence; +he bore it simply, and gave no sign that it produced an effect, unless +an occasional weak smile, as when the other became too atrociously +insulting, might be taken for such a sign. For there were things that +even Jimmy had no knowledge of. He did not dream for instance that, on +many a night after Nibs had, with a plea of study, begged off from +going "down town," he had dressed himself in a thin undershirt, loose, +full breeches and spiked shoes, and wrapped in a bath-robe and crouching +in the shadow, had sought the solemn, ghostly cemetery, there to run +among the white stones, glistening in the pale light, to his full +heart's content. Later, on those same nights, tired out, he had sneaked +back to his room unobserved in the silent streets. No, Jimmy did not +know of this strenuous course of Nibs' training. He knew his legs were +wiry, elastic, to be sure; but _how_ wiry, _how_ elastic, he did not +dream. And though deride him he did, in his cheerful confidence and +self-assurance, when, on the Monday following their meeting in Nat's +low-ceiled bar-room, a particularly venturesome sophomore laid him a +wager of five to three on Billy, Jimmy took the shorter end of the bet +with amazing alacrity. + +During the week immediately preceding the day for which the race was +set, interest in the event increased with the passage of the hours. +Posey's billiard-room on Main Street became the betting-green, where +Town met Gown, and Gown flung its challenges into the teeth of Town, +which Town at first snarled at, but eventually bit into and clung to +tenaciously. + +Once, during the tempestuous seven days, Nibs encountered Billy face to +face. The latter was leaving the president's office; Nibs was +approaching the door. + +As their eyes met, a spark flashed between them, and their faces became +hard and set. There were several loiterers in the corridor who witnessed +the meeting, and one of these, "Pinkey" Bush--a lawyer in Chicago +now,--never tires of recalling the incident. You have but to mention it +to him to hear him say, with a brilliant twinkle in his eye: + +"Gad! It was great! Simply great! There they stood, face to face; +Nibsey, long, thin as a lath, glaring down at Billy, who was shorter, +but just as gaunt. Their eyes gleamed like new shoe buttons, and their +hands were clenched tight at their sides. A second? It seemed an age! +They didn't speak; just drilled little wells in each other's eyes with +their own--and it was over. The door of the president's office closed +upon Nibsey; the big west door rattled shut after Billy. It was like a +dissolving view--great, while it lasted, but soon ended. I thought every +instant--and held my breath--that one of 'em would shoot out his fist +and land it on the other's jaw. No reason, of course; but it wouldn't +have surprised any of us who saw the meeting, if one or the other had." + +Two days before the race, the entire student body became divided in its +sympathy; wordy quarrels were hourly occurrences on the campus; nor were +bodily assaults infrequent. + +The next day the excitement was as tense as the air before a cyclone. A +million pounds of young animal spirits, the highest explosive known to +science, were encased in delicate human bottles, needing but a jar to +touch them off. + +At six o'clock, men passing in the streets gazed mad-eyed at one +another, their jaws set square, their lips drawn tight across their +teeth. + + +III + +Friday came, eventually, as Fridays have a way of doing, and it came +like a breath from the Northland where ice and snow and cold are. The +air set one's teeth on edge and one's flesh a-tingling, but there was no +frost. That was destined to come a week later, and, over night, convert +the summer into the pageant of autumn, the scarlet king at its head, his +crimson, gold and purple banners flaunting gaily. + +When Nibs appeared on the campus in the morning, he was besieged by a +horde of the faithful, who wanted to know if the weather was "going to +make any difference." + +"You bet it won't; not to me," he replied, with a sort of vocal +swagger, and with a marked enunciatory underlining of the pronoun. + +"You don't mean to say you're going to prance up and down State Street +in those dinky flapping white pants of yours, bare-legged, in such +weather as this, do you?" inquired Jimmy, with a most perceptible sneer +in his voice. + +"Yes, I am. I shan't think of the cold," was the brave reply. + +"Rah! Rah! Rah! Nibsey!" yelled a little pug-nosed freshman on the edge +of the crowd, and the cry was taken up lustily. + +"Oh, shut up, you fellows," said Nibs, blushing; "leave your yelling +till after the race, can't you?" But he sensed an expansion of his +chest, just the same, an expansion that, for the moment, made his +waistcoat feel uncomfortably tight. + +Meanwhile, Billy Shaw was being besieged in precisely the same manner at +another point on the campus. With considerable less than Nibs' +braggadocio he informed his followers and backers that so far at least +as he was concerned, there would be no postponement of the race. And he, +too, was cheered forthwith. + +Thurston Hubert, a Law, large with importance,--he had been chosen to +fire the pistol for the start--was in the little crowd that surged +around Billy. He gave it as his opinion that the weather was "great for +a running event--simply great." But by six o'clock the mischievous +mercury had dropped another five degrees. + +They were a muffled, overcoated lot of young men, who, an hour later, +began to gather in State Street. + +From all directions they came, and they formed in double line from the +Psi Upsilon House to the end of the course, precisely one-quarter of a +mile. Waiting, they shouted, jeered one another, spoke disrespectfully +of a whimsical Nature that had given them without warning so keen a +touch of winter, and otherwise disported as college men have a way of +doing, when they are waiting for something to occur. + +Along the outer edge of the street's double course were many vehicles, +for the Town's interest in the extensively advertised event was almost +as great as the Gown's; and in that day the lines between the two were +not so closely drawn as they are now. Girls, there were, waiting in +several of the carriages; young women of the institution; serious-faced +girls, but still girls, and being such, interested in deeds of prowess, +and devoted, with a sort of holy devotion, to the doers, as were the +women of Greece in the olden time. + +It was quarter-past seven when the familiar figure of the president was +seen to issue from his house and come down the South Walk. Knowledge of +his approach was passed along the double lines. The jeering ceased; the +disrespectful allusions to the weather ended, and at the top of the +course a sophomore, in a tall-collared sweater--then a novelty--who was +bolder than his fellows, shouted, "Rah! Rah! Rah! The President!" The +good man stopped, and, turning his head slowly, surveyed the ranks +seriously. Then he smiled such a smile as fifteen thousand men and women +in this country, and far countries, remember with a little tightening of +the throat that comes with the memory. Removing his hat, he bowed, +acknowledging the cheer, the sign of genuine, deep affection, that had +greeted him. And while he stood there on the walk, smiling, a louder +cheer ripped the atmosphere, a cheer that rose and rose, higher and +higher until it seemed the heavens above must crack from the detonation. +For THEY had appeared; and the president turned to glance up the course, +and what he saw caused the smile upon his kindly face to broaden, and he +laughed, but the laugh was low, and not heard in the turmoil. + +They approached the starting point from opposite directions. Billy Shaw +was accompanied by Thurston Hubert, he whose function it was to fire +the pistol, his hat cocked over one ear, a cigarette between his lips, +the smoke of which he artistically exhaled through his nostrils without +removing the tube--a feat that none but an upperclassman is known ever +to have accomplished. + +Billy was wrapped in a blue and green bath-robe, the hem of which was +not deep enough to hide his bare, big-boned ankles. He wore his spiked, +soft shoes, and had walked from his room--not without some little +triumph--in the middle of the street. He was bareheaded, as was Nibs. + +The latter's lank form was enveloped in a great mackintosh with a deep +cape. He carried his running shoes in his hand. + +As the two came face to face at the starting point their eyes met a +second time, and again a challenge leaped between them. + +In the excitement attendant upon their arrival the crowd did not take +notice of the little things, and the significance of that meeting and +the look was lost. That is, lost to all but one man--whom no one knew; a +stranger, who thus far had looked on smiling. He had crossed the street +some ten minutes before and joined the crowd unobserved. He had spoken +only once. When the throng cheered the president he had touched on the +arm a youth who stood beside him, and asked, "Who's that?" Informed, he +had continued to smile saying, "I thought so;" at the same time taking a +cigar from his waistcoat pocket and lighting it. He was tall, this +stranger, and his face was long and thin, but not unhandsome, for his +eyes were brown and gentle. His little, flat hat sat close upon his +head. Of unusual height, his lengthy legs were concealed by the long +light overcoat he wore. From his shoulder, by a strap, after the manner +of the day, dangled a fat hand-bag. He had not cheered thus far. He had +only smiled and pulled at his cigar, sending up huge feathery clouds of +opalescent smoke. + +Leaning forward now, he glanced along the line to the starting point. +The moment had arrived. The contestants had flung off their wrappings +and stood forth in their trappings. It made one shiver to see them; +clothed only in their gauze, sleeveless shirts, and the white flapping +breeches of the sport. + +Hubert and Jimmy conferred aside, while the bare-legged Mercurys stood, +now on one foot, now on the other, blowing in their hands, and flinging +their arms transversely across their breasts to counteract the cold. + +The crowd cried its impatience. The stranger craned forward again. + +"Back up!" called Hubert. "Keep back down there, you fellows!" and the +crowd obeyed, forming a splendid gantlet of spirited youth. + +The contestants took their places side by side. + +Hubert's arm rose, and seeing the pistol pointed heavenward several of +the young women in the carriages screwed their fingers into their ears. + +"Ready!" + +There was a dead silence. The arms of the champions shot forward and +back, rigid. + +"Sett!" + +Like perfect machines, they crouched at the word with one accord. + +At the crack of the pistol there was a swift in-taking of breath along +the lines. + +As they shot forward the double ranks of the gantlet fell together like +a house of cards and the crowd surged upon the heels of the runners. + +The president had proceeded to the end of the course. Looking back he +saw them coming. He saw them straining, neck and neck, the nerves and +cords below their ears standing out round, like ropes. He saw their lips +drawn back, thin and livid over gritted teeth. He saw their bulging +eyes, eyes that in turn saw nothing; and he heard the crowd at the rear. + +Closer and closer--they seemed abreast--and then--and then---- + +A scant fifteen feet from the string, Nibs Morey leaped and plunged +forward. Such a spurt had never before been seen on State Street. Even +the president, flinging aside his well-worn dignity, cheered on the +long, lank figure, which hurled itself that instant across the string, +and fell limp and panting into his open arms! + +"Well done, my boy," he cried,--"and you, too!" This to Billy, who was +upon him a fine fraction of a second later. "You are both champions,--I +am proud of you." + +And as they relaxed, weak and faint, he seized a hand of each in his own +and shook them strongly. Then he threaded his way back through the +seething crowd that had come up. Cheer upon cheer rent the +atmosphere--cheers for Nibs, and cheers for Billy, who had done his best +and failed, with greater honor to him, than if he had won without +effort. + + +IV + +At the bottom of the course, with the long-heralded event slipping with +the moments into history, and surrounded by their cheering +fellow-collegians, the eyes of the contestants met again, nor did they +waver, nor did a challenge leap between them. They smiled; their hands +shot forth with one accord, met and clutched, and it was then that +another cheer arose unlike those that had gone before--a cheer that was +a cheer. As it ended, Jimmy Hulburt, in a moment of fine frenzy, for +him, cried: + +"I'm willing to bet ten dollars at two to one that Nibsey Morey can beat +anybody runnin' that walks!" + +Even that brave if paradoxical cry was cheered, and the sportive Jimmy +looked about him valiantly. He felt a hand upon his arm in another +instant and heard a voice above him. Lifting his eyes, he looked up into +the stranger's face. + +"What was your bet?" the soft voice inquired. Jimmy repeated it, none +the less vigorously, at the same time pushing back to survey the uncouth +figure of the man in the long coat, with a satchel dangling from his +shoulder. + +"I'll take it," the stranger said, simply. + +Some one laughed, another called: "Shut up." As for Jimmy, he only +stared at the absurd person before him, who had with such aggravating +nonchalance picked up the glove that he had so bravely flung down. + +"Are you a student here?" he asked. + +"I entered to-day," was the reply, spoken in the same calm tones. + +"Where you from?" + +"Niles." + +"So you want to take that bet?" + +"I'm willing." He smiled most exasperatingly. + +"When do you want to run?" + +"Suit yourself." + +"Say," Jimmy exclaimed, perhaps a shade angrily, "are you fooling? To +hear you talk anybody'd think you wanted to run now." + +"That would be all right. I will run now." + +The laughter became general. The stranger only pulled at his cigar more +quickly. + +"Where are your togs?" Jimmy inquired scornfully. + +"I've got them on." So saying he flung back his overcoat. He was +ordinarily dressed. + +The laughter broke out afresh. + +Jimmy hesitated just one instant. + +"Wait a moment, may be we can fix up a race," he cried, and pushing +through the crowd he ran across the street to a confectionery store, +where Nibs had gone with Billy for a soda. He burst in upon them out of +breath. He told them of the wise fool over the way who needed a tuck +taken in him. + +"Will you run, Nibsey? Come on," he cried. + +Nibs looked at Billy. + +"Do it, do it," the latter urged. + +"All right," Nibs agreed, and arm in arm with his backer he issued into +the street, clutching his mackintosh about him. + +The stranger had, meanwhile, walked back along the course followed by a +great throng, anxious to witness what to them promised to be a _fiasco_ +of immense proportions. Only three carriages had waited. The occupants +perceiving the crowd at the lower end of the street had lingered for +developments. In one of the carriages was Nibs Morey's sister Wilma. She +called a youth to the wheel and questioned him concerning the throng +which still surged in the street. The freshman explained gaily. + +"And will Nibs run that great tall thing?" the girl inquired anxiously. + +"Oh, don't you worry, Miss Morey," the little freshman replied +consolingly. "He'll beat him so far he won't know he's running." + +"But he's all tired out," she expostulated. + +"Oh, no, he isn't. Only a little over a hundred yards." + +A cry rang out just then, down the course, and Wilma, turning, caught a +glimpse of her brother, surrounded by his supporters--and all the crowd +supported him now--approaching the start. + +She was moved to call him, to demand his instant withdrawal from this +silly, useless race; but her voice--this she realized--would not have +been heard above the shouting. She sank back upon the seat, her face +flushed, her forehead furrowed with little lines, her fingers locking +and unlocking. + +Some one had stopped just behind the carriage. Afterward she was wont to +say she had "felt" the presence; for, looking around and down, her eyes +met those of the stranger. His were the first to drop before her +unflinching, flashing gaze. Why he had stopped just there, the centre of +a little group of the curious, he could never explain. It was only an +instant, merely for the exchange of that glance perhaps, for he moved on +again almost immediately, up the course, half running, stepping high, +gracefully. + +The double lines of spectators now were not so long nor so thick as they +had been; nor did they manifest those signs of interest that had marked +the earlier event. + +At the start, the tall stranger removed neither his long overcoat nor +his satchel. His cigar had gone out, but he still held it, cold, between +his teeth. + +Little Thurston, who was to fire the pistol a second time, exclaimed, +amazedly: "Aren't you goin' to take off those things?" + +"No, guess not," was the cool reply. "What's the use!" + +Nibsey Morey, Billy Shaw and Jimmy exchanged glances; Billy smiled +outright. + +"Say," Jimmy snapped somewhat angrily. "Let's get a hustle on and end +this--you willing?" He nodded toward the stranger. + +"Quite." + +"Then--ready!" cried the starter. + +Again two figures, sadly matched, crouched at the start. + +Another second and the pistol cracked. + +Following the report, there was a little instant of dead silence in the +street, then there broke forth pandemonium, for half way down the +course, his coat tails flying, his satchel standing out behind, the cold +cigar gripped tight between his teeth, the stranger led Nibs Morey by a +rod. Twenty-five feet from the string, he turned, and running backward, +beckoned with a crooked forefinger to the straining Mercury that he +faced. + +Not in all undergraduate history is there recorded an event which +created more excitement on the campus after its occurrence than this. + +Nibs Morey had defeated Billy Shaw; and a stranger who had sprung from +the earth had defeated Nibs as no man before had ever been defeated. + +They shook hands, honorably, after the event, but those who witnessed +the incident forgot it immediately in the overwhelming curiosity +regarding the newest risen champion among them. + +"Who is he?" was the question on the lips of every youth and every +maid--"Who is he?" + +His name was Bunette, they said. His home? A tiny town on a west +Michigan sand hill. + +"What is he, then?" the voice of the campus cried. And it became known +that he had entered the department of Medicine and Surgery. + +And thus was a new god raised among men at whose shrine none worshiped +with devotion more intense than Billy Shaw, and the erstwhile idol, +Nibsey Morey, and to them and their brethren for all time he was given a +name, and the name was "Bunny of '85." + + + + +THE CASE OF CATHERWOOD + + +I + +"Stop!" + +The command from the rostrum brought the class up in their seats. Every +eye was bent upon Catherwood standing at the end of a bench in the +second row. + +Some one snickered. + +Catherwood stared at the floor, a blush of shame mounting his cheek and +melting into his thin, bristly red hair at his freckled temples. + +The assistant professor of history glared through his spectacles. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he exclaimed, "this is most unseemly! Mr. +Catherwood, you may be seated! I should advise you, ladies and +gentlemen, to devote a little more time to this course; and a little +less, perhaps, to the Junior Hop. I am sure you do not wish me to make +general the mailing of conditions next week. As you know the examination +is set for nine o'clock on the morning of February 10th. I trust you +will act upon the suggestion I have given you...." + +The gong in the corridor clanged just then and the class shuffled out +of the room. + +Shunning his acquaintances in the hall Catherwood disappeared. The blush +did not recede from his face until he banged the wide door shut behind +him and the cold of the crisp February morning smote him full. + +He walked swiftly down Williams Street to his room, not once lifting his +eyes from the pavement, which was dirty white from the much trampled +snow. + +Another flunk! The third in as many weeks! Catherwood with a muttered +imprecation reviewed the succession of class-room disasters. + +"Confound history!" he growled as he strode into his room. He flung his +books upon the bed and himself into the deep Morris chair by the window. +A sparrow was hopping on the porch roof without. He rattled the window +violently and the sparrow flew away in fright. + +"Go it, you imp," he snarled; and again he condemned all history and its +study to the deepest depths. + +It _was_ bad. The assistant professor had been lenient, but fate seemed +to have composed that particular section of every history hater in the +junior class. + +Catherwood realized this--or thought he did--as he sat staring out of +the windows into the skeleton branches of the trees, and from the +thought he obtained a modicum of consolation. + +He had worked. He had worked hard--but for some unknown reason he +couldn't bite into the course, couldn't dig his teeth into the subject. +He did not fear; on the contrary he was certain--as certain as a man can +be--that his semester's work in class-room was of sufficiently high a +grade to assure him his full credit in the course. And yet, he +considered, there was the examination, five days away. In two hours he +would be required to write out in a thin "blue book" all he was supposed +to have learned in twenty weeks. + +He ruminated. + +How much of what he had learned had stopped in his head? He asked +himself this, seriously, then smiled. He confessed to himself that he +had worked merely from recitation to recitation with no effort to hold +the subjects in that mathematical brain of his that caused his forehead +to bulge. + +And the examination only five days away! + +As he reviewed the situation Catherwood's brow darkened and he scowled. +For a space he twiddled his large thumbs and glared at a horse hitched +to a grocery wagon across the street. + +"I wish you'd freeze," he muttered viciously to the horse; but of +course the horse did not hear for the window was down. + +Catherwood counted his flunks on his fingers. Five; five clean, perfect +flunks, altogether, he recalled. Not so bad, he considered; that is, not +so _very_ bad. + +But there before him like a great monster with dripping jaws and green, +slimy body, was the examination; and it was creeping, creeping upon him +with the passage of the minutes. + +He stood up and shook himself nervously. + +From the window he saw the assistant professor approaching his home next +door. He carried several bulky volumes in his arms, hugged to his breast +lovingly. + +Catherwood watched him sourly. + +There was the man, he mused, in whose hands--now covered with +gray-striped woolen mittens--lay his fate! Pretty serious +business--one's fate lying in hands covered with gray-striped woolen +mittens. + +The courses in mathematics Catherwood did not fear; nor those in shop +work; not the one in elocution, to be sure, for that was a snap; nor yet +the two in political economy; indeed, those were rather fun. But +history! Ugh! + +The assistant professor turned in at the gate of his house next door, +and as he vanished the scowl fled from Catherwood's brow and his face +lighted. + +He would drop in on the assistant professor within the week and call. +Admirable! He wondered if the date might be anywhere reasonably near the +birthday of one of his children. A box of sweets might work wonders; a +china headed doll greater wonders. He marveled that the idea had never +before occurred to him. And, too, he considered, there was the +president. + +The president! + +Ah, _that_ would be different. There were no little tads in the +president's family. Then he quickly recalled having read in the +'_Varsity News_ of the day before that the president was in the east and +would not return until the thirteenth. + +Three days after! + +Futile--absolutely futile! + +And Catherwood scowled again and stared out the window, idly twisting +his trunk-check watch fob. + +He saw the assistant professor's wife on the walk below with the little +Mary. + +It was the psychological moment and Catherwood recognized it. Snatching +his hat from the book rack he plunged down the stairs. He pulled +himself together at the door and stepped, unconcernedly, out upon the +porch. + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Lowe," he called quite gaily. "Ah, and there's +little Mary--sweet child. Come here, Mary, won't you?" + +He squatted in the snow at the gate and held out his hands to her. She +ran to him with a little cry of delight. The mother's face was radiant. + +"Oh, good-morning, Mr. Catherwood," she called. + +He smiled and nodded. On the instant he made a vague calculation of the +value of Mrs. Lowe's good-will. + +He flung his arms around the child and lifted her clear of the walk to +her great delight as attested by the cries of glee that escaped her. + +Mrs. Lowe stopped at the gate. + +"Such a dear child," Catherwood gurgled, holding the tot close to him. + +"Do you think so?" the mother murmured. + +"So strong and so well," Catherwood added, weighing little Mary in his +strong hands. + +"Yes, she _is_ heavy," Mrs. Lowe said. + +Then the child cried in her pretty _patois_: + +"Pleese frow Mary up an' catch her." + +"Oh, ho," Catherwood exclaimed gaily, "so _that_ is what Mary wants, is +it? Well then, here goes." + +"Careful, Mary daughter," the mother cautioned, smiling. + +Catherwood never before had felt his strength as keenly as he did that +moment. It had for him, then, a definite, precise meaning; even a value; +yes, an incalculable value. + +"Frow up Mary 'n' catch her like farver do," the child urged. + +He tossed her into the air. + +"There!" he said as she left his arms. + +His hands--broad fine hands--were outspread to catch her. + +Afterward, when recollection of that vivid, scarlet instant returned to +him, he was never quite able to explain to himself how it had happened. +Perhaps he did not reckon with his various courses in physics--certain +laws of falling bodies, accelerated motion, and such uninteresting +things. In any event it was as though his hands had not been there; for +before he could clutch at the little furry ball of falling femininity it +had shot between those groping hands of his and in an infinitesimal +space of time had struck the low snow-drift beside the walk, no longer a +furry ball but a sprawl of screaming child. + +"Oh! Mr. Catherwood!" cried Mrs. Lowe. + +There was an instant's silence and then the atmosphere was punctured by +the piercing yelps of the little Mary. + +Mrs. Lowe snatched her daughter from the drift and, clutching her close, +cooed to her, consolingly. + +"Did the great horrid man drop mother's darling?" she murmured. + +Catherwood, stricken momentarily dumb by the accident, finally found his +voice though it was unsteady and very much in his throat. + +"Mrs. Lowe," he exclaimed, despairingly, "I'm very sorry; believe me; I +guess, I must----" + +She shot him one glance of injured motherhood, and without replying +turned and strode out of the yard still hugging close to her maternal +bosom the wailing Mary. + +The shrieks had penetrated to the study of the assistant professor and +as she turned in at her own gate he appeared upon the porch. + +"What's the matter?" he asked sharply. + +"The young man next door dropped Mary on the tar walk." + +Catherwood clearly distinguished below the child's still frantic yells +the grunt of the man who waited on the steps. + +He was prompted to shout: "You lie; it was a drift," but a quick second +thought restrained him. + +As it was he took the stairs in the darkened hallway in three bounds +and, rushing into his room, raved impotently. He kicked the legs of the +Morris chair; he kicked the legs of the table; he kicked the backs of +the books on the lowest shelf of the rack. He seized a pillow from the +divan and proceeded to punch it violently, viciously. Then he flung +himself face down upon the divan, and from the heart of the cushions +came the muffled words: + +"I wish the confounded kid had never been born!" + +After some minutes he rolled over and for a space stared blankly at the +ceiling. Then he rose, took a book from the rack and flinging himself +into the Morris chair by the window opened it upon his knee. + +It was a volume of the marvelous and enthralling adventures of the +redoubtable Sherlock Holmes. + + +II + +There are two kinds of hazing, as practiced by undergraduates at Ann +Arbor; the plain and the ornamental. + +The first may be a mere practical joke, as the "stacking" of a room, the +kidnapping of a freshman toastmaster, or the "losing" of a fraternity +initiate in the broad fields that lie between the town and the North +Pole. + +But ornamental hazing is quite a different thing. It is the sort most +indulged in by practical hazers, professionals, as it were; by juniors; +even by seniors; and as such is found to have many and varied forms. +Moreover it differs from the plain brand in that a genuine injury is, by +its application, wrought upon the hazee. Thus, a man may be lost in a +swamp and made to find his own way home by the tenets of the plain +hazing code; whereas, if, in the swamp, he is "injured," that is to say +if he is painted with iodine, if a broad pink parting is shaved across +his scalp, or if his hair is cut off in scrubby patches, he may quite +properly consider himself to have been allowed a taste of the ornamental +sort. + +It may be seen from these distinctions therefore, that plain hazing is +really harmless; no one is hurt, unless, as not infrequently occurs, and +justly, the hazers, themselves; and as a consequence of this the +University authorities seldom concern themselves in these really feeble +attempts to smirch the honor and destroy the valor of the freshman +class, which in most instances is sufficiently lusty an infant to take +excellent care of itself. + +For instance, no excitement is created by the appearance on the campus, +or even in the corridors of the recitation buildings, of a lanky youth +in exceedingly snug knee breeches who drags about behind him by a long +string a gaudy little horse on squeaking wheels. Indeed, men whose +height reaches a flat six feet have not infrequently ridden to classes +on very small tricycles to the ecstatic delight of certain upper +classmen and to the pitying sneers of their instructors. + +As has been observed, the authorities of the University are not wont to +interest themselves in such manifestations of under-class idiocy. + +But a hazing of the second sort! + +That, truly, is a different matter. + +There was the case of Cleaver, for instance, whose disappearance from +Ann Arbor on a wet night in March six years ago was telegraphed to every +paper of consequence in the country and which furnished a delectable +topic of conversation at faculty dinners for the entire two months of +his absence. + +Hazed? + +Of course he was hazed. + +He was _persona non grata_ to the sophomore class as represented by the +fraternity contingent and that contingent had simply done away with him +temporarily. When he _did_ return it was a wan and haggard figure that +he presented. The belief gained currency that his people had known his +whereabouts, but no one ever knew to a certainty. As for Cleaver +himself, he would not--or perhaps could not--tell what had been done to +him or who had planned and carried out the adventure of his +disappearance. The faculty was nonplussed. No one else had been missed. +Who, then, could have accompanied Cleaver to his dungeon, if dungeon had +been his residence for two months? No one, to this day, has solved the +mystery. As for Cleaver, he was given his credits and permitted to +graduate in due time. And to-day whenever he speaks of a certain +individual--now a lawyer in Syracuse--who was a sophomore during his own +freshman days, it is with a twinkle in his eyes. But he still keeps a +sacred silence. + +Ann Arbor was shaken to its foundations by the incident. Shaken, too, +has it been by circus riots; but it is doubted if ever within the period +of the University's establishment has it been so tremendously excited, +for a little period, as it became over the case of Catherwood. + +In the first place Catherwood had incurred the enmity of no one. A +student of fair attainments and average record who, during his three +years in the University, had taken but small part in undergraduate +activities, he found himself, of a sudden, standing in the blinding +lime-light of an official investigation. And an official investigation +at the University of Michigan is not to be considered lightly. All over +this broad land are men who have the questionable privilege of looking +back upon a time when they were the unwilling subjects of such +investigations. + +Catherwood's case, to be sure, was different in that he was the sufferer +from others' depredations, but the odium of participation rested upon +him nevertheless, and so delicate and shrinking was his nature that he +was known to suffer miserably from the publicity of his position. + +For three days he was conscious that every man's eye was upon him; that +every finger pointed at him, that every tongue discussed him. An attempt +was made to heroize him, but he withdrew to the seclusion of his room +and would see no one. His, indeed, was a case to defy, in its solution, +the most subtle reasoner, the most invincible logician on the faculty. + +In detail it was as follows: + +Mrs. Turner, Catherwood's landlady, a most estimable woman who had moved +into town from a not-distant farm for the purpose of "putting Willie +through school," was away from the house all the evening of February +ninth. A "social" at the Congregational Church--socials were her chief, +indeed, her only, diversion--on the arrangement committee of which she +was most active, delayed her return until nearly midnight. Willie +accompanied her to the church and at nine o'clock was put to bed in a +pew up-stairs. Therefore Mrs. Turner could not know what had transpired +in one of her second-floor rooms between the hours of seven-thirty and +twelve on that momentous night. Moreover, as Mrs. Turner varied the +monotony of house work with "plain sewing by the day" and was, all the +morning of the tenth, at the Alpha Phi house "fitting" Miss Houston, she +did not set about to "do the room work" until eleven-thirty. + +At that hour, tired beyond measure,--Miss Houston had been so finicky +about the hang of the skirt--she suddenly realized that if she did not +make haste Mr. Catherwood would return from college to find his room in +the condition of untidiness that he, presumably, had left it on going +out. + +So she dragged her leaden limbs up the stairs and from force of habit +knocked on the door of the second room, back. There was no reply. She +had expected none. She pushed open the door. + +The scene of chaos that met her gaze defies description. The room had +been completely and most effectively "stacked." Strewn about the floor +were papers. The inverted waste-basket was cocked rakishly upon an arm +of the chandelier. Books from the rack were lying everywhere. The rack +lay flat on the floor. The face of every hanging picture was turned to +the wall, and the Morris chair, which had been carefully taken apart, +was piled upon the writing table. Mrs. Turner at a single sweep of her +eye noted these details and also certain splotches that were +unmistakably ink spots on the walls and on the carpet. + +The divan had reared itself and now stood upon one end. Three chairs +were piled upon the bed. + +These Mrs. Turner noted last. + +She understood the meaning of the chaos. Someone, during his absence, +had entered Mr. Catherwood's room and "stacked" it. And as she +calculated the time necessary to complete a restoration of its usual +neat appearance, the poor woman sighed deeply. + +Suddenly she started. + +Was it an echo of her sigh she heard? Surely she had heard a human +sound. She peered, stooping. + +"Mr. Catherwood!" she called; her face pale. + +A distinct, graveyard moan was the answer. + +The blood fled from Mrs. Turner's lips and her eyes bulged. She +cautiously approached the bed, whence, seemingly, had come the moan. She +peered between the legs of the chairs. Then, with a cry that rang +through the house, she fled from the room, down the stairs and into the +freezing out-of-doors. + +As she ran down the walk, slipping, stumbling, the bells in the library +tower rang out twice, musically clear on the frosty air--fifteen minutes +past twelve. And approaching, she saw her neighbor, the assistant +professor of history, returning from the examination. + +Mrs. Turner flung herself heavily upon him. His spectacles slipped from +his nose. The armful of thin "blue books" he was carrying littered the +walk. He parried awkwardly with hands that were encased in gray-striped +woolen mittens. + +"Madame! Madame!" he cried, "what the--what is the matter--are you +crazy?" + +Mrs. Turner gasped--gasped like a pickerel dying on the grass. It was +quite half a minute before she found her voice and when she spoke it was +with many vocal quavers. + +"Oh, Professor Lowe! Professor Lowe!" she wailed, "Mr. Catherwood--Mr. +Catherwood----" + +"Well, well; what of him, madame, what of him?" + +The assistant professor spoke sharply. + +"_He's been murdered!_" + +"WHAT!" + +She seized him by the arm. + +"Come--come, quick," she cried. "He's on the bed: his face is all +blood." + +"Yes, yes," he replied, stooping and hastily gathering up the "blue +books"--"I'll fling these in the hall; you run on ahead--I'll be right +there." + +From the doorway he called to his wife, + +"Young man murdered next door, Jenny," and from the porch at the end +nearest Mrs. Turner's house he leaped into a snow-drift. He floundered +out and into the house as his wife appeared upon the porch wringing her +hands and moaning. + +He bounded up the stairs in the wake of Mrs. Turner and brushed past her +into the room of horror. + +He brought up stock still and looked about. + +"There's the corpse! There; over there on the bed!" the woman wailed, +frantically. + +He pulled away the piled chairs, and seizing the body rolled it upon its +back. Over Catherwood's eyes was bound a strip of cloth and a gag made +of a stocking was tied across his mouth. The assistant professor +unknotted the gag with trembling fingers and tore away the blindfold and +Catherwood blinked up at him owlishly. + +"Are you dead?" the assistant professor asked with bated breath. + +Catherwood's mouth worked convulsively and then he muttered hoarsely: +"Water! water!" + +Mrs. Turner hurried to the bathroom and returned with a cup, which the +assistant professor took from her and held to the young man's lips. He +gulped eagerly. + +"Look at his face!" cried Mrs. Turner. + +It was streaked and spotted with a brown stain. + +"Is it blood?" The woman shivered. + +The assistant professor sniffed. + +"Iodine," he exclaimed. "And see," he added, stooping, "here's the +bottle." He held up the phial that had caught his eye where it lay on +the floor at the foot of the bed. + +"Untie my hands," Catherwood gurgled--"Here, behind me!" + +They were tied securely by two handkerchiefs knotted together. The +assistant professor fumbled at the loops. He disengaged the swollen +wrists and Catherwood sat up in bed. He loosened the bindings of his +ankles himself and stood up. + +"Whew!" he whistled. + +He caught sight of his brown-streaked and spotted face in the dresser +mirror. + +"Cæsar!" he exclaimed, "that was a fine job!" + +Satisfied that a rescue had been accomplished in good time, the +assistant professor said: + +"Sit down, Mr. Catherwood, and explain, if possible, the meaning of +this--this hazing. I observed you were not present at the examination +to-day." + +Mrs. Turner, who till now had stood by wringing her hands, commenced, +with mechanical precision, to wrest order out of chaos in the room. + +From time to time during Catherwood's recital she stopped in her work +long enough to voice an ejaculatory "oh," or exclaim--"Well, +_I_ declare." + +"It is clearly a case of hazing--hazing of the most malicious sort," +observed the assistant professor, "and as such merits the fullest +investigation on the part of the faculty, which I have no doubt the +faculty will undertake. Do you know your assailants, Mr. Catherwood?" + +"Yes--and no," the young man replied, rubbing a red and swollen wrist. + +"Why do you say that?" the assistant professor inquired, significantly. + +"I thought I did from the writing of the note I received yesterday +afternoon----" + +"Ah--you received a note then?" + +"Yes--wait." Catherwood dove a hand into the inside pocket of his coat. +"Here it is," he said, and held out to his questioner a crumpled bit of +paper written in a hand obviously disguised. + +The assistant professor examined the writing closely. + +"This, Mr. Catherwood," he opined finally, "is, as you see, 'back-hand.' +Moreover, it is quite clear to me that it was penned by some one who +used his left hand, although he is, naturally, what we call 'right +handed.'" + +The professor remembered his "The Count of Monte Cristo." + +"Ah----" + +At Catherwood's exclamation he looked up quickly. + +"That's why I could not identify it," the young man added. + +"But, Mr. Catherwood," the assistant professor continued, "isn't it +rather odd that you did not see--did not recognize the two men who +assailed you; for of course there were two--the note reads----" + +He looked down at the crumpled sheet again--"'We shall call at your room +this evening.' Isn't it rather strange?" He awaited Catherwood's reply, +calmly. + +"I think there was but one!" + +The assistant professor started. + +"_One!_" he exclaimed. "Why it is more mysterious than ever--and you +didn't see him, Mr. Catherwood?" + +"No, sir, I did not." + +"You did not?" + +"No, sir...." + +"Well, _I_ declare," ejaculated Mrs. Turner. + +Mr. Lowe smoothed over the note and folded it. "I shall take this," he +said--"that is, if you do not mind." + +"No--no--of course not----" + +"And, Mr. Catherwood," he added, "I am to assume, am I, that you can +throw no light on this--on this most mysterious matter...?" + +At that instant a knock fell on the door. + +"Come in," Catherwood called. + +The door was pushed back and a young man with a note-book in his hand +stood on the threshold. + +"I'm Green," he explained. "I'm on the _'Varsity News_. You're +Catherwood, aren't you? Yes; well, we got wind of the case. Fellow heard +your landlady yell and telephoned us. What does it amount to----?" + +The assistant professor, squaring his shoulders, assumed the privilege +of answering the breezy youth. + +"Perhaps," he said, "it might be as well not to go into details just +now. Mr. Catherwood was assaulted in his room last night and was found +gagged and tied in his bed not an hour ago. It is a case for official +investigation. Mr. Catherwood was made, much against his will, +naturally, to miss an important examination this morning--I may say a +very important examination. There is a meeting of the faculty to be held +to-night when I shall present the facts of this most shocking affair as +I have gathered them and I am confident that an official investigation +will follow. You may say as much...." + +The reporter had been busy with his note-book. + +Now looking up at Catherwood, he asked: "What's the matter with his +face?" + +"I believe it is iodine," the assistant professor replied, frigidly. + +Little Green grinned. + +"You're a sure beaut," he exclaimed. + +"I think that will be all," observed the assistant professor drily. + +"Oh yes, yes--that's all--thank you very much; good-morning." And the +journalist vanished. + +The eyes of Catherwood and the assistant professor met. + +"I think I should wash my face, if I were you," suggested Mr. Lowe. +"You may be able to remove some of the stain." + +Catherwood went to the stand in the corner of the room. For a space he +sputtered the water in the bowl. "Any better?" he asked, at length. + +Mr. Lowe shook his head sadly. + +"No--it won't come off. You had best see a doctor." + +He rose. + +"Now, Mr. Catherwood," he said, "as I have said, this is a case for the +most thorough investigation. You need not give yourself any uneasiness. +The University authorities will, you may be sure, sift matters to the +bottom. You have been maltreated; abused, tortured, and, I may say, +disfigured." + +Catherwood, with a sigh, sank into the Morris chair by the window. + +"I shall take the matter up this evening at faculty meeting. Mark my +word, we shall discover your assailant or assailants at once; for +despite your belief to the contrary, it is my opinion that two men, if, +indeed, not more, had a hand in your undoing. We shall see. I shall talk +of the case to several this afternoon and I suppose you would have no +hesitancy in appearing at the meeting to-night, if your presence there +should be deemed desirable." + +"No," Catherwood replied, weakly, "not if they want me." The hand he +passed across his brow trembled. + +"I observe you are nervous," the assistant professor said. "Get a little +rest this afternoon." He shook his head slowly. "It is very +unfortunate," he added, "that the president is away; however, I am +confident we shall have the case cleared up before his return. You, of +course, Mr. Catherwood, have no reason not to assist us in every way +possible?" + +"None at all." The young man leaned back and closed his eyes, and sighed +deeply. + +"However, I must say, you have not seemed to me as interested as----" + +Catherwood sat upright. + +"I'm half sick," he cried, "half sick. It's so strange. I know no one +who would have a reason for hazing me; I can't understand it; it's like +a bad dream." + +He rose and paced back and forth the length of the room. + +"Ah, yes, to be sure," the assistant professor murmured, consolingly. +"Now, I shall go. You will hear from me later--perhaps very soon." + +Catherwood stood motionless in the middle of the floor until he heard +the outer door close, then he descended the stairs slowly, and +encountering Mrs. Turner in the kitchen begged the privilege of taking +dinner at her table. + +"This face," he explained. "I can't go to 'Pret's' with this face." + +And she, gentle motherly soul, bade him be seated, and fed him well, and +consoled him; while Willie, fascinated by the streaked and horrid face +of the self-bidden guest, allowed his rice-pudding to grow cold while he +gazed at him. + + +III + +Little Green, the pink-cheeked reporter of the _'Varsity News_, was not +that at all, and on this occasion he gave his name the lie direct. + +Little Green possessed a nasal organ keenly atuned to news. As he +hastened back down town after his summary dismissal from Catherwood's +room, he calculated accurately the latent story value in the assistant +professor's indefinite account of his pupil's case. + +He glanced at his watch, snapped the case, thrust it back into his +pocket--and ran. + +He estimated the time with reference to the publication hour of the +Detroit afternoon papers. + +He saw before him, as plainly as he saw the snow banks, one hour and +thirty minutes. The period was material, tangible. Little Green, as he +turned into Main Street and sped on toward Huron Street, not only saw +it, but felt it; almost _tasted_ it. + +"Here, you!" he cried, bursting in upon the indolent operator in the +little, box-like telegraph office. + +He seized a block of blue-white paper that lay on the counter. + +"What's up?" asked the operator dreamily. + +By way of answer little Green thrust a sheet of the blue-white paper at +him. + +"Get that on the wire--hurry--it's a scoop." + +The operator smiled sadly and checked off the words. He glanced up at +the clock--regulated electrically from the observatory--and scribbled +the "filing time" at the bottom of the sheet. + +Little Green fidgeted. + +"Say, cancha hurry?" he asked anxiously. + +"Plenty time," replied the operator calmly; and so there was, but little +Green was enveloped in a haze of zeal that set perspectives all awry. + +Presently the little machine on the glass-topped table began to click. + +Little Green, standing at the counter, counted the clicks. + +_Clickety--click--click--clickety--click--clickety._ + +"You got 'em?" he asked eagerly. + +"Yep." Calmly. + +Little Green emitted a sigh of relief and proceeded, carefully but +hastily, to fill sheet after sheet torn from the block of blue-white +paper. He scratched out, wrote in, amplified, condensed. He wrote in +many tiny paragraphs; for little Green was wise beyond his years. + +And while he wrote, oblivious of the _clickety--click--click_ of the +little machine on the table, of the droning tick of the electrically +regulated clock, of the rasp of his pencil on the paper, the indolent +operator looked up. + +"Rush three hundred," he called with a yawn. + +Little Green grinned. Another page and he brought his "story" to a +snappy end with a tiny, quick little sentence. + +He knew the run of his own "copy." + +He was conscious that he had exceeded the order by sixty words, +approximately, and he hesitated an instant. Then thrusting the numbered +sheets at the operator, he exclaimed: "Here, take it; I'll wait for +another order." + +In half an hour it came. It was for a photograph of Catherwood. + +How little Green procured that photograph even after Catherwood's threat +that he'd kill him if he used it, is a story in itself--a story for +another time. But in less than an hour after the receipt of the +telegraphic request it was in the post-office bearing on its plain +wrapper a special delivery stamp. + +It has been suggested that little Green was wise beyond his years. He +was just wise enough not to tell _all_ his story to an afternoon paper +at so late an hour. + +So, with a confidence born of a short but crowded experience, he sent +out by wire eight queries to as many morning papers in the middle- and +the further-west. + +Meanwhile that occurred which little Green had been far-sighted enough +to expect would occur. + +The tall, angular, boy-faced agent of the Associated Press in Detroit +wandered into the office of the _Journal_ shortly after one o'clock. + +Passing the city desk he tickled the man sitting there, on his round, +shiny, bald spot, and as he looked up with a scowl, asked blandly: + +"Anything doing?" + +The city editor growled and resumed reading the typewritten page that +lay before him. + +The agent wandered into the office of the state editor, where a man with +long hair sat, fidgeting in a swivel chair and mumbling to himself under +his breath. + +"Anything?" asked the agent, tersely, at the same time reaching for the +proofs that dangled from a hook at the side of the desk. + +The state editor looked up, scowling. He disliked being annoyed when +talking to himself. + +"Pretty good one from Ann Arbor," he snapped. "Find it there." + +The agent ran hastily through the proofs and retained one. The others he +hung back on the hook. + +"Much obliged," he said, and strolled out of the office. + +At six o'clock that night the story was "on the A. P. wire," and being +ticked off in every newspaper telegraph room from Portland to Portland, +for the night manager at Chicago had called it "bully good stuff." + +And when it came clicking into those offices to which little Green had +wired shortly after noon, the desk men in charge recognized the +incompleteness of the "A. P. story," and forthwith telegraphed their +unknown correspondent for more. Regular correspondents were totally +disregarded. Little Green was supreme; and no one realized that +supremacy more keenly than little Green himself. He was the king of the +night with his story; and sheet after sheet he filled with his jagged, +irregular chirography, and the dreamy operator kept up with him. + +But there came an end to his work at last, as there comes an end to all +things; and when the end came in this particular case, little Green +whistled, slipped his pencil into his pocket and sauntered out of the +telegraph box jauntily. He did not recall until he reached the office of +the _'Varsity News_ that he had not eaten since morning. He glanced at +his watch. He would write the "story" for his own paper now--and +then--Supper. + +All of which may explain to the reader of this veracious tale why it was +that the president of the University, as he glanced over his _Providence +Journal_ in Providence the next morning, suddenly started in his chair, +and calling for a telegraph blank sent this message to the dean of the +Department of Literature, Science, and the Arts: + +"Take no action in Catherwood case. Sift it. Leave for Ann Arbor at +once." + +And likewise it may account for the sudden exclamation of the dean +himself, as at breakfast, earlier that same morning in Ann Arbor, his +eye chanced to fall upon a column-and-one-half story with a two column +display head, that blazed forth to all the world many details unknown to +him in the case of Frederick Edward Catherwood. + +He had attended the faculty meeting the night before, when the case was +threshed out to the finest grain, and he had heard no such explanation +of the affair as stared at him now in cold black type from the front +page of his morning paper. + +A _secret_ secret society in the University, the function of which was +to haze every one big or little who for one reason or another, might +fall under its bann! He had never heard of any such organization. And +yet--and yet---- + +Oh, little Green! Oh, little Green! Little did you dream to what ill end +your rare invention, your insane imaginings, would result! + +For, after partaking that night of a luncheon and dinner rolled into one +big steak in "Tuts," little Green sought his room where he slept the +sleep of vigorous youth till a beam of the winter sun, shining through +his alcove window, fell athwart his eyes and wakened him. + +As for Catherwood, he had not been commanded to appear before the +faculty. Indeed, of what transpired at that momentous meeting he never +knew; that is to say, definitely, but every one learned, in a general +way, something of the wordy resolutions that were passed and the learned +opinions that were there put forth, all of which tended to no purpose +save to obscure more thickly, rather than illumine more brilliantly, the +strange affair. + +The dean presided--a large man with reddish hair and pleasant eyes and +a jerky, nervous manner. + +Inasmuch as it was assistant professor Lowe who had found Catherwood, +gagged and tied, that _savant_ was asked to give his opinion, first. + +With much natural evasion of the subject, and a cloud of "ahs" and +"aws," he explained as lucidly as his slow moving mind would permit how +he had rushed into the room to discover his pupil stowed away upon the +bed behind a barricade of chairs. + +"And, professor," inquired the dean, "you can throw no light upon the +case; you have learned nothing--that is to say--oh--ah--nothing that +might serve as a clue to the apprehension of the offenders?" + +The room became as still as the royal ante-chamber whilst the king dies +beyond the arras. + +The assistant professor fumbled in his pockets and finally drew out the +crumpled note that Catherwood had given him, which he offered the dean, +meekly, as becomes a serf in the presence of his master. + +The dean pursed his lips and looked down at the sheet. + +"Oh--ah," he muttered. And then added, passing it back to the assistant +professor, "I--oh--ah--make nothing out of this--nothing at all. It is +very simple. It shows that Mr.--oh--ah--Catherwood was assaulted by +two--two--persons. But, _that_, gentlemen, we already know. What we now +wish to learn is: _Who were they?_" + +The assistant professor shook his head, wearily. + +"Yes, yes," he muttered. + +At this point an aged man at the rear of the room rose, and clearing his +throat asked in a dry, metallic cackle: "Am I to understand that the +young gentleman is a member of a fraternity?" + +It was quite apparent that no one appreciated clearly the significance +of the old gentleman's question. + +The dean stared inquiringly over his glasses at the assistant professor +of history. + +"He is not----" + +"He is not," echoed the dean. + +"Oh," cackled the old gentleman and sat down. His prejudice against +fraternities was well known. Several of the younger men present, who +wore their pins on occasion, glanced at one another and smiled. + +"It would--oh--ah--seem to me," began the dean, when he was interrupted +by that dry, metallic cackle a second time. + +"Does he contemplate joining a fraternity?" + +"No," Lowe shouted. + +"Oh"--and the old gentleman sat down again. + +In the second row there rose a round, boy-faced man with a pompadour, +who, after clearing his throat, began: + +"It would seem to me, gentlemen, that we are on the wrong track; what? +It would seem to me that there is a way--a sure way--of apprehending the +villains who seem to have worsted our young friend, Mr. Catherwood; +what?" + +Every man in the room leaned forward, and again the hush became awesome. + +"And it is?" observed the dean, very soberly. + +"_That we compare the handwriting of that note with all the students' +signatures in our possession; what?_" + +There ensued a general exchange of puzzled looks and then the dean +exclaimed: + +"A very good idea, my dear professor--oh--ah--a most ingenious idea; +but--oh--ah--would _you_ be willing to undertake to make the suggested +comparisons?" + +"Well I thought the clerks in the registrar's office might----" + +"Very good--_very_ good!" said the dean--"I believe there are about +thirty-five hundred such signatures--oh--ah--quite a week's work for the +entire office force--quite----" + +Several of his colleagues openly congratulated the boy-faced genius who +seemed to them to be the only man with a plan worthy of adoption. + +Amid the general exchange of felicitations before which the genius +blushed and stammered his confusion, assistant professor Lowe rose and +caught the eye of the dean. + +"Order--oh--ah--order, gentlemen!" the latter called. "Professor Lowe +seems to have a word----" + +"It's just a word," was the reply, "but, gentlemen, the plan suggested +can be of no avail and for a very simple reason----" He looked down at +the boy-faced junior professor in astronomy who had formulated the plan +referred to and who looked up at him, weakly, sufferingly. + +"And what is the reason?" inquired the dean severely, loth to have a +theory declared impracticable which he had seemed to favor. + +"It is that this note was written--ingeniously I am willing to admit--by +a right handed person, who, to disguise his writing, wrote with his left +hand in what we call the 'back-hand' style. All writings, under such +circumstances, are alike. My authority, gentlemen, is Dumas; of whom +some of you may have heard." And with this cuttingly sarcastic speech +the assistant professor of history sat down. + +There was an instant's silence, broken by the old gentleman at the back +of the room who had fallen asleep some minutes before. Awakening, just +as assistant professor Lowe delivered his retort, he had heard but a +word, and that word was pleasant to his aged ear. + +"What's that?" he called. + +No one assumed the task of explaining to him and he dozed off again. + +As it was, for three hours, upward of seventy-five full-blooded, +able-bodied men wrangled over an affair that little Green had assumed +the responsibility of making clear to the wider world outside. Theories, +opinions, solutions, were flung at the dean until he felt his head swim, +and saw double. + +In the entire assemblage there was but one who had taken no active part +in the discussion, but, rather, had appeared to look on merely, an +interested, if at times annoyed, spectator--the professor of French. + +He was observed occasionally to yawn. + +During a lull he got upon his feet and straightway, without clearing his +throat--said: + +"Gentlemen, it seems to me we are as far from a solution of this affair +as we were when we assembled. For one I am getting tired and am going +home,"--he was quite independent for there was a standing "call" for +him from an eastern institution.--"Now I have a suggestion to make. It +is this: Suppose we all go home, and await the return of the president. +Meanwhile let us keep our eyes and ears open, and our mouths shut; +perhaps we may see and hear things that will indicate the proper course +for us to take. In any event, it would seem wisest for us to await the +return of the president. Good-night, gentlemen." + +And buttoning his overcoat about him, the professor of French left the +room. + +It was not until then that the futility of their discussion dawned upon +his colleagues. Some one moved that the meeting adjourn. The motion was +carried. The old gentleman voted the single nay. + +The dean walked home with assistant professor Lowe. Their conversation +was wholly upon the case in hand. And when the dean left the younger man +at the latter's door, he said: "I--oh--ah--I confess to being more +puzzled than ever. A very mysterious affair--oh--ah--a _most_ mysterious +affair." + +And so it was that the puzzlement of the worthy dean deepened next +morning as he read little Green's sprightly, suggestive story. + +But the frown vanished from his brow and the wonder from his eyes, when, +as he left the house, a messenger handed him the president's telegram. +And he hastened to the campus to make known to his colleagues the glad +tidings that had come to him in the depths of his perplexity. + + +IV + +The various and varying newspaper accounts of the affair awoke Ann Arbor +from its peaceful slumber and for a space the town lived. For two days +interest developed with the passage of the hours. Speculation became +general. Opinions were as many as those who offered them; until there +was not a man or woman from the Cat Hole to Ashley Street who did not +advance a theory, new or old. + +A like puzzlement, but one tempered by more original conjecture, +characterized the attitude of the undergraduate body as a whole. For two +days Catherwood had not appeared upon the campus, but at all hours +friends and mere nodding acquaintances called at his rooms only to be +refused admittance by Mrs. Turner, whom he had bade inform all callers +that he was ill, very ill, quite too ill to be seen. + +Little Green was one of these callers. He had expected the refusal of +admission which Mrs. Turner, with many apologies, gave him and +straightway he telegraphed his papers that Catherwood was dying as the +result of the great bodily injuries he had received at the hands of his +unknown undergraduate assailants. For little Green knew by instinct what +many a reporter requires long years to learn--that a "story" is "good" +just as long as there is a drop of "life" blood left in it, and not an +instant longer. + +Little Green fairly reveled in the commotion he had caused. The regular +college correspondents, anæmic, frightened little fellows, were at a +loss to know who had beaten them in their own papers. It was little +Green's game, absolutely his, and he purposed playing it alone, aided +and abetted in the achievement of this purpose by the various telegraph +editors whom he sought to serve. And so far as the faculty was +concerned, the frequenter the dispatches, the more woefully addled did +the professorial brain become. + +Out in the state, and in adjoining states, wise editors, looking down, +as it were, from some high place, wrote venomous and vicious editorials +in which the legislature was called upon to pass laws abolishing hazing +in institutions of the commonwealth by making the practice of it a +felony, punishable by imprisonment. Parents in the further west with +sons and daughters at Ann Arbor feared for their children's lives. +School boards passed resolutions. Guardians wrote to the heads of +various university departments asking if their wards were quite safe, +alone and unprotected in Ann Arbor. A New York newspaper, on the second +day, dispatched its most ingenious "woman reporter" to the scene of +action and in three hours the sprightly creature had woven a fictional +fabric beside which the tale of Ali Baba was the glowing, gleaming +truth. She revived all the half-forgotten stories of ancient hazing +rites, dead these many years, and wrote of them as of contemporary +practice. And the imaginative artist in the home office illustrated her +vivacious article elaborately, seeking to convey to the eye horrors of +undergraduate torture that words were useless to describe. + +Skeletonized, the story was wired across the sea and the ponderous +_Times_ gave forth an editorial in which it averred that such refined +cruelty had never been heard of in English academic life; not even in +the palmiest days of Rugby and of Eton at the height of the fagging +system. + +Amidst the wild excitement, little pink-cheeked Green grinned at his +reflection in his mirror and exclaimed: + +"Gad! You've got 'em goin', Greeny; you've got 'em goin'. Greeny, +_you're it_!" + +And he was; for three swift, brilliant days. + +For then the president came. + +He came unannounced save by the telegram the dean received at breakfast +on the second day. + +He was driven direct to his home; and ten minutes after entering the +front door he issued from the back and hastened across the campus. + +The registrar met him in the main corridor. + +"What is this I have been reading?" he asked sharply. "This that the +papers are full of? What is it?" + +The registrar followed him into his private office where, as the +president unlocked his desk, he explained accurately, tersely, the +frenzy that had seized the University, and the town; the state, the +nation, and the world. + +As he spoke he was interrupted again and again by the characteristic +"ah" of the president, who as he listened, toyed with a steel envelope +opener. + +"And those are the facts in the case as you--that is to say the +faculty--know them; are they?" he asked, when the other had done. + +The registrar nodded. + +"Ah, yes," murmured the president--"now let me see if I have them +correct and in their order;" and he recited the story as he had heard it +from the other's lips, accurately, succinctly, with no point missing. + +"Those are the facts, doctor," the registrar corroborated. + +"Ah yes,--quite simple--yes." + +The registrar was about to move away. + +"Ah, just a moment," the president called. "You know Mr. Catherwood's +address----" + +"One hundred and three, Williams Street----" + +"Ah, yes." And he hastily wrote a note which he folded and addressed. + +"Have this delivered to Mr. Catherwood at once at his rooms." + +The registrar nodded. + +"And if he should call here at the office, have him wait, please--have +him wait. I wish a word with professor Lowe." + +He vanished into the corridor. + +He was absent ten minutes and as he passed through the waiting-room to +the inner private office he glanced into the office of the registrar. + +He closed the door noiselessly and seating himself at his desk, +proceeded with slow deliberation to open his accumulated mail. + + * * * * * + +The bells in the library tower clanged twelve o'clock. As the last +detonation sounded through the high corridors of the main building a +timid knock fell upon the door. + +The president glanced up quickly. He drew from an inner pocket of his +coat two envelopes, which he laid on the top of the desk. + +Then:-- + +"Come in!" he called. + +The door opened and Catherwood, streaked of face and hollow eyed, stood +upon the threshold. + +The president rose. + +"Ah, Mr. Catherwood," he exclaimed, smiling. + +He advanced upon his caller with outstretched hand. + +Catherwood was not conscious of the warm clasp; he only knew one +thing--that he had been summoned and that now he was in the presence of +the genius of the institution of which he himself was a little part. + +"You--you sent for me, sir," he managed to say. + +"Yes--ah--you got my note of course. Sit down." + +The president seated himself at his desk and wheeled that he might face +the odd creature near the door. + +"Well, well, Mr. Catherwood," he exclaimed, after a moment, "they appear +to have been treating you rather badly, eh?" + +Catherwood pleaded with his eyes alone. + +"Well, well; what does it all mean, Mr. Catherwood?" he went on, +kindly. "You've no enemies here, have you----" + +The young man brightened perceptibly--"Not one, sir; that is to say, not +one that I know of," he added, less brightly. + +"Ah, so I'm told. How do you account for this attack upon you, then?" + +Catherwood's eyes dropped to the carpet. The president watched him +covertly, fumbling the seal that dangled from his watch-chain. + +"I can't," Catherwood replied at last, looking up. + +"No, of course you can't. I hardly expected you could," the president +exclaimed. "But, Mr. Catherwood"--he spoke slowly--"have you no _idea_ +who it was committed this most dastardly assault upon you?" + +There was an instant's silence during which Catherwood followed the +scroll design of the carpet up one row and down another. + +"Yes, sir--_I have._" + +"Who?" The president leaned forward. + +"I don't feel justified in saying, sir." + +Catherwood did not look up as he spoke. + +The president leaned back and passed his hand across his forehead. + +"Ah, yes; I think I understand, Mr. Catherwood--you--you--perhaps fear +the blame may be placed where it should not--a fine sense of justice; +Mr. Catherwood--a very fine sense of justice--I congratulate you upon +it, sir." + +Catherwood glanced up now, moved to a sort of secret impatience by what +he assumed to be a note of sarcasm in the president's voice. + +But the face his eyes encountered was most kindly. + +His eyes fell again. + +The president took up the envelope opener and placed the steel point to +his lips. + +"Mr. Catherwood," he began, and hesitated. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Of course you know," he went on, "that since my return the facts in +your case have been placed before me by certain members of the faculty +who are familiar with them." + +"Yes, sir," Catherwood murmured. + +"Now, Mr. Catherwood, while they have told me many things of interest, +there is one little detail that seems to me to have a very important +bearing upon the case, but which, for some unaccountable reason, they +all seem to have missed. Perhaps you can throw some light upon this dark +place." The president indulged here in a round, full laugh. + +Encouraged by the infinite kindness of this voice, Catherwood lifted his +eyes. + +"Yes, sir; if I can--what is it?" + +"Ah, yes." The president cleared his throat. "Mr. Catherwood," he +resumed calmly, twirling the envelope opener between his fingers, "what +I wish so very much to know is _how you managed to tie your hands behind +you_!" + +"Why I----" Catherwood began, and stopped. He tried to wrench his eyes +from those of the president,--calm, blue--but could not. The room +whirled. The design in the carpet became the design of the walls and of +the ceiling; and there were no windows in the room, or doors--and all +was black--black--black, save for two points of light; for there were +those calm blue eyes, shining back at his. + +And then as though it spoke from some great height he heard the mellow +voice in his ears again. + +"Go on, Mr. Catherwood," the voice said. + +At last he managed to wrench his eyes away and stood up, and strode over +to the window and looked out upon the white world. He saw two sparrows +poise an instant on the crest of a drift. + +"Well, Mr. Catherwood----" The voice again. + +He turned slowly. His face was pale beneath the disfiguring streaks and +stripes of brown. + +"I--I--I confess, sir--I confess." + +He flung himself into the chair at the end of the desk and covering his +poor face with his two hands, sobbed aloud. + +The president waited for the paroxysm to pass. + +"Why did you do it, Mr. Catherwood?" he asked, quietly. + +"I--I--was afraid of that history examination." The reply came faint. + +Turning his face away, he stood up. He groped for his hat. + +"But wait a moment, Mr. Catherwood." + +Shame-faced the impostor turned, his hand upon the knob of the door. + +"You have, I believe, neither credit nor condition in that course. +Professor Lowe was at a loss which to give you; and awaited my return. +Ah, sit down, Mr. Catherwood." + +He obeyed, meekly. He fumbled his cap. + +"Ah, Mr. Catherwood." The voice still was calm and even. + +"Yes, sir," Catherwood murmured without changing his position. + +"Mr. Catherwood, this is a delicate case--I may say a most delicate +case. It is unique in my experience. Indeed I believe it is _absolutely_ +unique. Moreover, honesty compels me to say that it was most ingeniously +managed--_most_ ingeniously." + +The president coughed and raised his hand to his lips. Catherwood +looked up an instant and then away again. + +"Now, Mr. Catherwood," the president went on in the same dispassionate +tone, "let us look first at the case from your point of view. You were +zealous to pass your history course, ahem, too zealous, perhaps. +However, be that as it may. And I am right, am I not, when I infer that +your zeal, your desire in the matter, is still unabated?" + +Catherwood nodded, slightly. + +"Ah, I thought so. So be it. It is your zeal, then, that induces a +certain definite longing for the credit in that course? Am I right?" + +"Yes, sir." Weakly. + +"Ah, yes. But, Mr. Catherwood, there is that beside our zeal to which we +must listen. There is our conscience." + +Catherwood shifted uneasily. + +"Consult _your_ conscience, Mr. Catherwood. Shall I tell you what it +whispers? Very well. It bids you ask for a condition--a condition, Mr. +Catherwood." + +"Give it me, doctor; give it me." + +The suddenness, the eagerness of the request caused the president to +raise his eyebrows. The pale ghost of a smile lingered an instant about +his lips. + +He held out a restraining hand. + +"Just a moment, Mr. Catherwood," he said. "There is another point of +view. Mine." + +Catherwood had sunk back into his previous attitude of dejection. + +"I may state it briefly," the president continued. "My interest in the +proper conduct of this University, Mr. Catherwood, bids me give you a +condition in the course to which we--ah--have referred. But--and I say +this frankly--my interest in you, my boy, bids me hesitate. You are +young. Your whole life is before you. A misstep now might mean the ruin +of that life." + +Catherwood caught his breath with a little spasm of the throat. + +"Far be it from me to be the cause of such a misstep." The president +spoke less rapidly now. "Too, you have brains. This--ah--your recent +exploit is proof of that. Such ingenuity properly directed might work +great good for not only you, but--ah--the country at large. Mr. +Catherwood,"--every word was voiced with a cutting precision--"my +genuine interest in you prompts me to give you your credit in this +course; but----" + +Catherwood started in his chair. The face he turned to the president was +aglow; the eyes alight. + +"_But_," the speaker emphasized--"I am not permitted to do this, Mr. +Catherwood. Had you taken that examination you might--mind you I say +'might'--have passed. Again you might not. There would have been, you +see, an element of chance. Mr. Catherwood, we shall let Chance hold the +scales this morning." + +The young man looked up wonderingly. + +"I don't understand, sir," he said, weakly. + +In his hand the president held two envelopes. + +"Mr. Catherwood," he said, "you see these envelopes? Yes. Well, in one +of them--I do not know which one--is a credit-slip; in the other is a +condition. The envelopes are sealed." + +He held them out to the limp creature at the end of the desk. + +"Choose," he commanded. + +Catherwood shrank back. "Oh, sir," he murmured, brokenly. + +"Choose." + +Their eyes met then; and there was that in the president's that forbade +his disobeying. + +He put forth a trembling hand. His fingers touched the smooth paper. He +drew. He crushed the envelope in his hand. + +"Is--is--that all, sir?" he begged, falteringly. + +"That is all, Mr. Catherwood, good-morning." + +And he seized his cap and rushed from the room. + +The president, alone, leaned back in his chair and stared at the +ceiling. Then he looked down. He still held the second envelope. + +He ran the slim blade of the ebon-handled dagger beneath the flap and +ripped it open. + +He drew out the slip that it contained. + +A queer little look came into his eyes. Then he pursed his lips, and +smiled. + +He tore the slip into tiny flakes and let them fall from his open hand +like snow, into the waste-basket. + +Just then the bells in the library tower clanged out four times. + +"Dear, dear!" exclaimed the president. "Half-past one! I shall be late +for luncheon!" + +And gathering up his coat and hat he left his office, hurriedly. + + + + +THE DOOR--A NOCTURNE + + +There is a pale moon, consequently the electric street-lamps are +unlighted. The setting is nowise picturesque. The street is narrow, +unpaved, and fringed on either side with maples in leaf. It is late +June. To right and left, are to be discerned behind the trees rows of +characterless frame houses, that, for the greater part, are set well +back in yards, where, here and there, are lilac bushes, rose trees, +smoke trees, and silver birches, ghostly in the thin light. The moon's +rays, glimmering upon the latched green blinds of the lower +stories--which seem black--streak them with white. + +At the end of the block, on the east side of the street, stands a house +markedly different from the others. It is three stories in height, +whilst they are two; the lawn, cut by a gravel path, slopes gently to +the walk, and is close cropped; across the front of the house and +continuing unbroken along either side to the back is a broad, covered +porch with a spindled rail at its edge like a little fence. The only +door is at the top of the path, in front. In a window directly above +the door is a card the legend on which the moon makes clear--"Rooms to +Rent." There is no fence about the place. On the south side another +gravel path, narrower than the one in front and bordered with box, links +the sidewalk to the porch. The main path prongs to still another set of +steps on the north side. The house is white and looms big in the +paleness. In a pear-tree near the south porch-steps a katydid scrapes +her dreary tune; whilst, on the north steps, a vagrant cat sits in +silent adoration of the night, contemplating, presumably, the joys +thereof. A stillness made the more tangible by the katydid's song +pervades the scene. + +The deep throated bells in the library tower on the campus ring out six +times--ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong. Accurately it lacks but fifteen +minutes of being midnight. + +Suddenly the song of the katydid ceases, and the cat, seized with panic, +leaps from the north steps and vanishes beneath the grape trellis at the +back. Footfalls sound on the cement, and presently a couple slant across +the lawn to the porch, issuing from the shadow of the trees into the +white light that floods the lawn. He is seen to be a well set up youth +who looks twenty-three. It is the moon, for he is twenty. Upon his blond +head is perched a slouch hat of a dirty gray color and bound with a +wide black band. His trousers, turned up at the ankles, are baggy at the +hips and bulge beneath the belted Norfolk jacket that he wears. His hat +is pulled down rakishly in front. She is a head shorter than he, and +plump. Were it high noon her face would glow ruddy. She wears a straw +sailor-hat such as no sailor ever wore; a shirt waist, and a white duck +skirt that flares at the hem and appears somewhat crumpled. Her steps +are mincing; he slouches. Between them they carry by its two +out-springing handles a small luncheon hamper. He is a junior; his walk +gives the clue to his class. So is she; so does hers. At the porch he +sets the basket on the lowest step and turns to her:-- + +JAMIE. Well, we beat 'em; didn't we? + +HILDA [_fumbling in her finger purse_]. Uh huh. Let's go up-stairs and +wait. + +JAMIE [_doubtfully_]. Had we better? Won't your landlady think---- It's +awful late. + +HILDA [_testily_]. We don't pay her three dollars a week to think; +besides, they'll surely be here in a minute. We couldn't have been more +than a mile ahead of them. They're at the livery now, probably. [_During +this speech she fumbles in her purse._] Oh, dear! + +JAMIE [_endeavoring to smother a yawn_]. Wha's mat'r? + +HILDA [_looking up at him and making a little moüe_]. I can't find my +key! + +JAMIE [_with a quick show of interest_]. You haven't lost it, have you? + +HILDA [_snappishly_]. Well, it isn't here, anyway. Oh, oh, oh, how mad +it makes me to lose things--but--I remember now; I left it on the +_chiffonier_ while we were dressing. Just to think I should have come +away and left it lying there--oh, dear! [_She gazes up at him +appealingly._] + +JAMIE [_a note of resignation in his voice, perhaps, which she, however, +does not seem to perceive_]. What's the difference? We'll wait for 'em. +Minnie'll have hers, won't she? It'll be nicer waiting out here, anyway. +Look at that moon! Beaut, isn't it? [_He takes up the basket and moves +away._] + +HILDA. Where are you going? + +JAMIE [_perhaps significantly_]. 'Round on the side porch; this is too +near the street. + +HILDA [_following him, and aside_]. I can't see why they don't come. +[_Aloud._] Can we hear them? + +JAMIE. Sure! [_He sets the basket beside one of the pillars of the north +porch. They both sit on the top step, she with her elbows on her knees, +her chin in her two hands. For a space he whistles softly between his +teeth. Thereafter they converse in half-whispers._] + +JAMIE. They'll be along in a minute. + +HILDA. I hope so. They will unless Herbert's persuaded her to go hunting +for flowers by moonlight. I wouldn't be as crazy over botany as he is +for all the degrees the old university gives. [_She edges nearer him +and, taking his hand in one of hers, draws his arm around her waist. +Sighing._] Oh, dear! + +JAMIE [_bringing his face closer to hers_]. What is it--angel? + +HILDA [_with infinite--or, almost infinite, tenderness_]. Oh, nothing. I +was only thinking about the day; how happy it has been. + +JAMIE [_tenderly_]. Has it been, dear? + +HILDA [_her head against his shoulder_]. You know it +has--lovely--perfect! + +JAMIE. What made it? + +HILDA. You know what.... + +JAMIE No, I don't; tell me. What? + +HILDA [_with tender impatience_]. Why you, of course, foolish--because +we were together, and all that.... + +JAMIE. Oh! + +HILDA. Now, what did you say "oh" for? + +JAMIE. I don't know--because I'm glad you enjoyed the day, I guess. + +HILDA. Did you want me to enjoy it--very much? + +JAMIE. Of course I did, dear; I want you to be happy all the time---- +We are going to be happy always, aren't we? + +HILDA. Are we? + +JAMIE. Aren't we? + +HILDA [_tenderly_]. Y-e-s---- [_Their lips are very close. The moon +rushes behind a cloud._] There! Now you've shocked the man in the moon! + +JAMIE. I guess he's used to it. I wish I had a dollar for all the times +he's seen that! + +HILDA. And just think! There isn't a soul he can talk to about it! + +JAMIE. Maybe he tells Mars; you don't know. + +HILDA. Oh, Jamie, you ought to take course one in astronomy! Mars and +the moon are miles and miles apart! + +JAMIE. Are they? + +HILDA [_tapping his hand_]. Yes, and you ought to know it. + +JAMIE. But I don't know as much as you do, dearie. + +HILDA. That's a very pretty speech, but you do, all the same. Sometimes +I think you know just a little bit more. + +JAMIE. Well, I don't; besides, how could I? You're working for Ph. B., +and I'll only get a cheap old B. L. + +HILDA. That's your own fault. You could have selected Ph. B. Herbert +did. + +JAMIE. But Herbert knows more than I do, too. [_He grins, away from +her._] + +HILDA. Why, Jamie, he doesn't either! He doesn't know _anything_ but +botany. I'm glad you aren't an old prosy botanist. + +JAMIE. Maybe I'm not a very good botanist, but I've prided myself on my +taste in flowers---- + +HILDA. Now what makes you say that? You don't know a cowslip from a +hollyhock! + +JAMIE. Maybe not, but I fell in love with you, didn't I? + +HILDA [_snuggling very close_]. Dearest! [_Again the modest man in the +moon hides his face behind a cloud._] + +JAMIE [_reminiscently_]. Do you remember what happened a month ago +to-night? + +HILDA [_softly_]. Of course I do. + +JAMIE. What? + +HILDA [_more softly_]. You proposed. + +JAMIE [_stroking her hair_]. Where? + +HILDA. Why, where we were to-day--at Whitmore--in Mr. Stevens' +sail-boat. + +JAMIE. Yes, that's so. I thought maybe you'd forgotten.... + +HILDA [_drawing back_]. Jamie! Forget! Never! Why that's the greatest +thing that ever comes into a girl's life! Forget it? How could you! + +JAMIE. And you're just the same? + +HILDA [_her head against his shoulder again_]. Always! + +JAMIE. The old lake looked somewhat different to-day, didn't it; so many +of the cottages open, and such a crowd around? + +HILDA. Yes, but it wasn't so nice as it was that day. I thought there +were just a few too many around to-day, didn't you? + +JAMIE. Yes--once--or--twice---- + +HILDA. Why? + +JAMIE. Oh, because I wanted to walk on and on alone with you--just you. +I wanted to talk to you as we're talking now, but I couldn't with so +many folks everywhere. But I had my chance when we started for home. I +looked for interference; that's why I suggested separate carriages. + +HILDA [_indifferently_]. I knew it. + +JAMIE. You did? Now that shows you know more than I do. I didn't think +you'd understand. + +HILDA. Did you really think me as dense as all that? + +JAMIE. I'm afraid I did. But I shan't again. I shall tell you +everything, hereafter. I find I might as well. + +HILDA [_earnestly_]. Yes, you might, just exactly as well, for I shall +know, anyway. + +JAMIE. I wonder if they had a good time. + +HILDA. Who; Herbert and Minnie? Of course they did. + +JAMIE. Do you think they care anything for each other? + +HILDA. Do I think so? Why, how should I know? + +JAMIE. You're her room-mate, aren't you? + +HILDA. Oh, yes, I'm her room-mate; but I might as well not be for all +she tells me about herself. + +JAMIE. Does she ever say anything about him? + +HILDA. Not a word. + +JAMIE [_somewhat sarcastically_]. She seemed willing enough to go to the +picnic; and I don't remember that she protested very violently when I +suggested we go in separate carriages. + +HILDA. Of course she wanted to go. Any girl likes a good time now and +then on a Saturday, after working hard all the week. And Minnie does +work hard. But her wanting to go doesn't prove anything. And as for the +separate carriages, no girl likes to be bundled in with a crowd. + +JAMIE. Yes, maybe that's so. As far as I'm concerned, I'm glad she +didn't protest. + +HILDA. So am I. Do you think Herbert cares for her? + +JAMIE. Oh, I don't know. I'm not very well acquainted with him. He's +always stuck in that musty old laboratory. I don't see him often. I'd +never have thought of including him in the picnic, to-day, if you hadn't +suggested it. + +HILDA. Oh, well, there wasn't any one else; I couldn't go and leave +Minnie. He'd called here two or three times, and he took her to the +Forty Club once; I thought he'd do. + +JAMIE. He did, I guess. They hadn't much to say to each other, but maybe +they had a good time all the same. + +HILDA. Well, you know, she never has very much to say, nor he either, +for that matter. + +JAMIE. I know it; all I could think of, seeing them up in front of the +boat, was a pair of owls. + +HILDA. Don't make fun of them, Jamie. Minnie's _awfully_ bright. Why +she's made up her mind to come back next year and take her Master's +degree. Think of that! + +JAMIE. Is that so? I wonder if Herbert's coming too. + +HILDA. I don't know. I've never heard him say. I don't believe Minnie +knows either. He's a splendid student, too. [_Anxiously._] I don't see +why in the world they don't come. Jamie, maybe they've had an accident! + +JAMIE. Oh, no, they haven't. That old giraffe of theirs couldn't run +away. They're walking up from the livery now, like as not, just as we +did. They'll be here in a minute. Maybe we came in faster than we +thought. It's a good ten miles, and with their horse it would take 'em +half again as long as it did us. + +HILDA. Maybe. + +JAMIE [_irrelevantly_]. Jove! What a magnificent night this is! + +HILDA. Isn't it? And see how round the moon is--it's perfectly lovely. + +JAMIE. Dearest! + +HILDA. What? + +JAMIE. I love you. + +HILDA [_pressing his arm_]. Sweetheart! + +JAMIE. I do. [HILDA _murmurs incoherently._] + +Tired of scurrying, the silent moon shines down upon these two of all +the world, regardless. They lapse into silence--he holding one of her +hands--and gaze at the pale orb of night floating up the sky. A couple +turn the corner, south of the house. The young man is tall and angular. +He wears huge spectacles. His face is thin and wan, very like that of +the girl beside him. Indeed, they have many physical characteristics in +common. She, too, wears spectacles. Her mouth is straight, her +complexion cloudy, but her eyes give evidence of an active brain behind +them. He carries a luncheon basket awkwardly. At the corner they stop +and he turns away as she lifts her dark cloth overskirt, and searches +for her pocket. The quill, riding her curled-brimmed straw-hat at an +angle of danger, sways impatiently. + +HERBERT [_calmly_]. Something appears to annoy you--have you---- + +MINNIE [_impetuously_]. I've lost my key! Now isn't that aggravating! To +think anything so perfectly absurd should---- + +HERBERT. The others haven't yet arrived apparently. Possibly we +might---- + +MINNIE [_with surprise_]. Oh, I wouldn't have you wait for the world! It +must be one o'clock! [_She glances up at a window of the second floor._] +No, evidently, they haven't come. There's no light. Of course Hilda +would wait. Well, we'll ring and arouse the landlady; that's all. + +HERBERT [_solicitously_]. _Please_ don't think it would annoy me to wait +for your room-mate and her friend--here on the porch. It wouldn't in the +least, I assure you. Besides, it always puts one out to be awakened +late at night, and I dare say your landlady isn't a young person. + +MINNIE [_smiling_]. It's _very_ good of you. She _isn't_ young; she's +quite old. Quite as old, I think, as my mother. Still I _could_ ring, +you know. + +HERBERT. Oh, don't, please don't; that is, don't on my account. This +isn't late for me. I often study till two. Besides, to-morrow will be +Sunday, and one isn't required to be about so early on Sunday. + +MINNIE [_still smiling_]. I think it would be a trifle more accurate if +you had said, "This is Sunday." I am positive it is after midnight. Have +you a watch? + +HERBERT. I am exceedingly sorry, but--but I didn't wear my watch to-day; +being around the water, I thought--I thought, I might lose---- + +MINNIE. Yes, one does have to be careful around the water. I've lost my +key, I know! + +HERBERT. I can't tell you how sorry I am. + +MINNIE. And the injustice of it is that you must be the one to +suffer--waiting here for Hilda. + +HERBERT. I shan't suffer; it will be a pleasure, believe---- + +MINNIE. It's very good of you, of course; but you are quite sure I +hadn't better ring? + +HERBERT. Quite. Don't do it, really. It's a lovely night, and---- + +MINNIE. Well, we'd better sit on the porch, then, it's rather damp +here, don't you think? [_She moves toward the south steps._] + +HERBERT [_following_]. Yes, I believe it is rather damp. There's been a +heavy dew. One can't afford to get one's feet wet with so much +bronchitis about. + +MINNIE [_sitting on the top step_]. No indeed--I can't imagine where +they can be! They were ahead of us all the way in. Why didn't we think +to ask at the livery if---- + +HERBERT. I'm sure it wouldn't have done any good. You see they didn't +get their horse where I got ours. + +MINNIE. Oh, yes, to be sure. [_Anxiously._] But where in the world can +they be? + +HERBERT. I recall having read once--in some French book if I remember +rightly--that one should never count upon an affianced couple being in a +given place at a given time. + +MINNIE [_smiling at him_]. I'm not sure that isn't true. Still, Hilda is +usually quite discreet, and I can't---- + +HERBERT. Doubtless they'll be here in a moment; I shouldn't worry. + +MINNIE [_suddenly_]. Why, how very impolite of me. To allow you to sit +there all this time holding that basket. Won't you set it on the porch? +[HERBERT _has held the basket on his knees with his hands spread out +over the cover._] + +HERBERT. Oh--ah--I wasn't thinking of--there, I guess that will be safe. +[_He sets the basket on the porch at his side._] + +MINNIE [_leaning forward and gazing past him toward the street_]. I wish +they'd come! Wasn't it perfectly absurd of me to lose my key? Keeping +you here! Are you quite sure you'd just as lief? + +HERBERT. Yes, indeed--really--I like to sit out--really, it doesn't +matter, not in the least. + +MINNIE. Well while we are waiting we might as well go on where we left +off. You were saying, on the way up from the livery---- [_Hardly for a +moment has_ HERBERT _taken his eyes off the girl at his side._] + +HERBERT [_floundering_]. Oh, yes, as I was saying--the--oh--ah--I was +say--what _was_ I saying, Miss---- + +MINNIE. Have you forgotten so soon? I'm afraid the subject couldn't have +held all your thought. You were telling me about the triliums. + +HERBERT [_brightly_]. Oh, yes, to be sure; of course--the triliums. I +was telling you they were to be found on the plains--of all places in +the world--right in the heart of the great American desert--as I'm +told. + +MINNIE [_earnestly_]. Are they, indeed? Really, I never heard of such a +thing. Gray says positively, I am sure, that they are to be found +growing only in damp soil; near rivers, for instance, or in marshes. +I've never succeeded in finding them around here anywhere except down by +the Huron River or out State Street at Tamarack Swamp. And to think of +them growing away out there! It is the strangest thing I ever heard +of--why, there's no water for miles, is there? + +HERBERT. Not a drop. I'm told they've been found in the most barren +places; flowering alongside cacti and sage-brush. + +MINNIE. You are quite sure they were the trilium, are you? It's possible +of course---- + +HERBERT. That my informant might be mistaken--yes; but I don't think he +was. They look precisely the same, and they analyze the same. I've seen +his specimens. The leaf is identical in form. It is a trifle larger, +that is all. I've never been able to distinguish any other variation, +however slight. + +MINNIE. Have you ever mentioned it to Professor Yarb? I'm sure---- + +HERBERT. Yes, I told him about them, and last summer I sent him a box. +He analyzed them and is as much mystified as I. He's going to write a +paper on the subject for this year's meeting of the American Society. + +MINNIE. How I should love to see some! I wonder if it would be too much +trouble for you to send me a few; just one or two. You have some +pressed, doubtless. I'd like to take a hand in solving the riddle. I +intend to keep up with my botany, no matter where or what I teach, +finally. + +HERBERT [_joyfully_]. Do you? Do you, really? + +MINNIE [_earnestly_]. I do indeed. + +HERBERT. Of course I'll send you some. I'll mail you a box as soon---- + +MINNIE [_with a protesting gesture_]. Oh, I wouldn't have you go to that +trouble for the world. Just two or three, in an envelope. They will do +quite as well. [_She leans forward again and gazes past him down the +street. He does not draw back as he did before._] Why in the world don't +they come? I shall have to talk to Hilda, severely. + +HERBERT. Oh, don't be hard on her. They're in--that is to say, they +think a very great deal of each other, and no doubt---- + +MINNIE. But it is so terribly late! + +HERBERT. I know, but it's very pleasant--such a night--much pleasanter +than it is inside. And as for sleep, why one can sleep any night, while +such a moon as that, up there, one can't see often. + +MINNIE [_quickly_]. I do believe you're sentimental. I'm not a bit, so +we'll never get on. + +HERBERT [_gazing into space_]. I don't think two people ought to be +alike---- [_He catches himself, stares at the moon and whistles without +whistling. Minnie regards him curiously from the end of her eye._] + +MINNIE [_examining the cuff of one sleeve_]. What do you mean by that? + +HERBERT [_again floundering_]. I--oh--ah--I was just thinking---- We had +a lecture on some such subject in psychology the other day. + +MINNIE [_with a little sigh_]. Do you enjoy psychology? + +HERBERT. Very much. + +MINNIE. Have you ever made any experiments? + +HERBERT. Only a few, just the more common ones. I've only had one course +in it, you see. + +MINNIE [_making a thrilling conversational leap_]. I've no doubt it is +all very fascinating, but I don't think I should care to marry a +psychologist. + +HERBERT [_quickly; edging nearer_]. But I'm not a psychologist! I'm a +botanist. + +MINNIE [_very softly; looking away_]. What do you mean--I---- + +HERBERT [_seemingly about to run madly into the face of the storm, but +recovering himself_]. I--oh--ah--I was just defending myself, you know. +But why wouldn't you care to marry one? + +MINNIE [_sighing again_]. Oh, I don't know. I think I should be in +mortal terror all the time that he was just analyzing me and every one +of my motives. + +HERBERT [_dreamily_]. I don't think you would have occasion. If he loved +you he couldn't---- + +MINNIE [_trying to laugh lightly and succeeding in emitting a rather +tame cackle_]. Love me! The idea! Who would ever love a spectacled old +thing like me? + +HERBERT. Oh, you don't know, you know. Besides you shouldn't talk that +way about yourself. + +MINNIE [_smiling full at him_]. I should tell the truth, shouldn't I? + +HERBERT [_locking and unlocking his fingers_]. But it isn't the truth. + +MINNIE [_looking down_]. Oh! + +HERBERT [_with real courage_]. That's the truth! You see the difference, +don't you? + +MINNIE. Well, I'd like to know what I am if I'm not that. No one ever +intimated before that I am anything else. My little brother has +maintained it ever since he learned to talk. + +HERBERT. Well, you're not; you're---- [_He hesitates. Thereafter he +speaks quite as a locomotive puffs on a steep grade. There are two or +three large, lusty puffs followed by a chain of spasmodic little +puffs_.] + +MINNIE [_encouragingly_]. Yes? + +HERBERT. You're not! You're a--oh, don't you understand? I can't keep +from telling you any longer, really--I tried to in the carriage, but the +road was so bumpy, I---- It seems as though I must make you understand. +Please try to--I---- Don't you see! I care for you very, very much +and--I wrote my people all about it and--oh, don't you see, Miss---- I +mean Minnie---- I want to ask---- Will you---- + +MINNIE [_they are very close. She looks up at him feelingly_]. Herbert! +[_The moon, aghast, dazed, thrown into a veritable spasm of lunar +consternation, darts behind a cloud. But these two do not notice. The +moon is forgotten--all is forgotten--the stars, the earth, the +hour--even botany! Their heads are near together; thus they remain a +long time, without speaking. The katydid has ceased again her dismal +song, and long since the cat slunk away behind the grape-trellis to seek +new fields. The intense stillness of the hour absorbs them and makes +them a part of itself. After a myriad æons a bird, somewhere, pipes a +warning note, which is taken up by another bird. The couple on the +further porch stir. Her head has been resting against his shoulder and +for a little time she has slept. In one hand he holds a bit of angel's +food, left over from the luncheon, which he from time to time has +nibbled indifferently._] + +JAMIE [_flinging the cake away and stretching_]. Gee whiz! + +HILDA [_starting, sleepily_]. Wha--what is it? + +JAMIE [_grumblingly_]. Aw, nothin', I just wish they'd come, that's all. + +HILDA [_plaintively_]. Aren't you happy, dear? + +JAMIE [_yawning_]. Oh, I'm happy enough, I suppose, but this porch isn't +exactly downy; I feel as though I'd been sitting here a month. + +HILDA [_sighing_]. Well I can't see where they are, either--for the life +of me. + +JAMIE [_bitterly_]. The darned fools! + +HILDA [_with horror_]. Jamie! + +JAMIE. Well, aren't they? + +HILDA [_with some show of spirit_]. No, they're not; and if you're so +sick of sitting here, why don't you go home; I can wait. I'm not afraid. + +JAMIE [_yawning again_]. Don't be silly. + +HILDA. It seems to me you're the silly one; just as though you +couldn't---- + +JAMIE [_impatiently_]. Well, if you think it's fun sitting here all +night waiting for two soft heads that don't know enough to ache when +they're in pain, you're _mistaken_; that's all. + +HILDA [_moving away from him_]. I should think you'd be ashamed! + +JAMIE [_with rising impatience_]. That's right; now get _mad_! + +HILDA. I'm not mad; so there! But--I---- [_She begins to sniffle +suspiciously. For some time neither speaks. The moon has waned and a +strange, new light, of a sickly cast, is rising in the eastern sky. A +restless bird in a tree near by pipes one nervous note; then all is +silence again._] + +JAMIE [_stretching and again yawning_]. What are you crying about? + +HILDA [_swallowing two or three times, chokingly_]. I--I--I'm not +crying---- + +JAMIE [_indifferently and quite as though he felt he must say +something_]. You are, too; what about? + +HILDA. Nothing. + +JAMIE. [_He mutters._] + +HILDA. What did you say? + +JAMIE [_doggedly_]. I didn't say anything. + +HILDA [_coming a little closer_]. You did, too, and I want to know what +it was. + +JAMIE [_impatiently_]. I didn't say anything, I tell you! + +HILDA [_choking up again_]. That's right; now be ugly; just as though +it were my fault; when you yourself suggested that we sit here. + +JAMIE. I didn't think it would be for all night! + +HILDA [_sticking to the point_]. Well you did suggest it, didn't you? + +JAMIE [_jerking his head_]. Oh, I suppose so! [_He sits with his elbows +on his knees, his chin in his hands, and gazes at the rising light._] + +HILDA. I'm just as tired as you are. + +JAMIE [_sneeringly_]. Yes, I've no doubt! + +HILDA [_hopelessly_]. Oh, Jamie! + +JAMIE [_with a fiendishly sarcastic grin that she doesn't see between +her fingers_]. And you're catching cold, too. + +HILDA [_recovering_]. Why, I'm not either; what makes you say that? + +JAMIE [_with withering sarcasm_]. Oh, aren't you? I thought you were--by +the sniffles! + +HILDA [_with some return of her former spirit_]. You're a mean, horrid, +old thing, just as mean and horrid as you can be; and I'll never speak +to you again as long as I live! + +JAMIE [_significantly_]. Oh, I guess you will. + +HILDA. Well, I won't. + +JAMIE [_gleefully_]. There, didn't I tell you you would? + +HILDA. Well, I won't again. + +JAMIE. Oh, you won't, eh? + +HILDA. [_No answer._] + +JAMIE. So that's it, is it? + +HILDA. [_Still no answer._] + +JAMIE [_shrugging his shoulders_]. Oh, very well; just as you like! +[_How fortunate for the sympathetic man in the moon that he's not here +to see. Now, the eastern sky shows a tinge of pale gray, shading into +light violet. Here and there a bird lifts its voice; the notes are taken +up and passed along as sentries pass the call for the corporal of the +guard. From afar comes the jangle of metal, and the bell of an early +milkman clangs. A sleepy girl issues from the back door of the two-story +house across the street. A canvas-covered wagon drawn by two horses +lumbers past._] + +HILDA [_rising and indicating the basket with dignity_]. Hug! + +JAMIE [_passing it to her_]. Where you going? + +HILDA [_after a moment's hesitation_]. I'm going to wake up the girl. + +JAMIE [_attempting to restrain her_]. Oh, don't do that; I'm very +sorry---- + +HILDA [_icily_]. There's no need of your being sorry, at all. + +JAMIE. But I---- + +HILDA [_with arctic frigidity_]. It is quite unnecessary for us to say +anything further about it, I think. + +JAMIE [_pleading_]. Won't you forgive me? + +HILDA. [_For answer she tosses her head._] + +JAMIE [_in the same tone as before_]. Won't you--Hilda? + +HILDA. [_Still no reply. She stands at his side holding the basket, not +deigning even to look down at him._] + +JAMIE. What are you thinking, dear? Tell me! + +HILDA. Oh, nothing of much consequence; only just how mean you have been +and---- + +JAMIE [_interposing_]. But I've asked you to---- + +HILDA. If I'm not mistaken I've said there is no use of our talking +further about it. + +JAMIE [_rising as she turns_]. Then you won't say anything to me? + +HILDA. I don't think there is anything to be said. + +JAMIE [_with dogged resignation_]. Very well, then--Hush! [_From the +other porch comes the sound of light footfalls._] + +HILDA [_without attending_]. It is probably the girl. [_She proceeds to +the front; he follows. As they turn the corner_, MINNIE _and_ HERBERT +_turn the corner, opposite, and the couples confront each other_.] + +MINNIE. Hilda! + +HILDA. Minnie! + +MINNIE. Hilda, where in the world have you been? + +HILDA. And I should like to know where in the world you have been? + +MINNIE [_severely and indicating the porch behind her_]. We've been +sitting on that porch all night, waiting for you. + +HILDA [_mocking her severity and indicating the porch behind her_]. And +we've been sitting on that porch all night, waiting for you! + +JAMIE [_to_ HILDA _coldly_]. Now that you have other company, I'll go. +Good-bye! [_He rushes down the steps._] + +HILDA [_running to the rail and calling after him softly_]. Jamie! +Jamie! Oh, Jamie! [_He apparently does not hear her._ HERBERT _stands by +fumbling his hat and looking first at one girl then at the other, +wonderingly_. HILDA _turns from the rail and gazes at_ MINNIE _who +returns the gaze searchingly_. HILDA _bites her lower lip and looks +down_. MINNIE _leans against the casing of the front door, her hand on +the knob. She anticipates a scene._] + +MINNIE. Good-night--Herbert! + +HERBERT. Good-night--Minnie! [_They exchange one loving look and he is +off. He proceeds in a direction opposite to that taken by_ JAMIE.] + +MINNIE [_regarding_ HILDA _whose eyes are upon her and filled with +surprise_]. Hilda--tell me--what---- + +HILDA [_hiding her face against the shoulder of her room-mate, who +strokes her hair caressingly_]. Oh, Minnie--Minnie--he's gone--it's +broken---- + +MINNIE [_convulsively, her grasp upon the doorknob, tightening. The knob +turns. The door swings back_]. Oh! See! + +HILDA [_lifting her face_]. Oh! [_Her eyes meet_ MINNIE'S. _In the +latter there is a smile which she shares weakly_.] + +MINNIE. This is too absurd! Open all night! + +HILDA [_trying hard not to cry_]. Oh, Minnie! I don't know what---- + +MINNIE [_her arm around_ HILDA]. There dear. Don't cry. It will come out +all right. And to think you should have broken with Jamie while Herbert +and I were---- [_They pass into the hallway._ MINNIE, _by closing the +door softly behind them, renders the rest unintelligible to any one who +might be passing just at this instant_.] + + + + +A MODERN MERCURY + + +I + +On a cool morning in mid-June two little boys, very dusty and wearing +very grimy waists, sat on the turfed mound of an ancient circus ring in +the old fair ground enclosure, intently watching the gaunt, half-naked +figure of a man in flapping white breeches who, high-stepping, sprinted +back and forth along the stretch of the old race track. Their elbows on +their knees, their chins in their grimy hands, they gazed fixedly at him +whom they had trudged across the lots to see. For in his day he was the +small boys' god, their best-loved hero, before whom it was their +greatest joy to bend the knee. + +"D' you think he kin do it?" Jimmy Thurston finally inquired, as the +spare, ridiculous figure of the man brought up behind the tenantless +judges' stand and for an instant was lost to sight. + +Willie Trigger sneered. He was very superior, was Willie. + +"Sure he kin!" he exclaimed. "Sure he kin!" + +"I bet he can't," Jimmy replied curtly. + +"He kin too--'sides----" + +"'Sides what?" the challenging Jimmy asked, contemptuously. + +"My father says he kin." + +"Aw----" + +"He does too." + +"Aw, my pa says he _can't_----" + +"I d'care; he kin." + +"How d'you know?" + +"Well"--Willie Trigger hesitated. "Well, my father says he guesses he +kin beat a _nengine_!" + +At that Jimmy Thurston burst into jeering laughter. + +"He! he! he!" he cackled--"a _nengine_! He! He! Why, a nengine goes--a +nengine goes _a mile in a minnit_!" + +Willie Trigger had become very red; moreover he was choking, half with +rage, half with confusion. He recognized the need of personal support. +So he blurted:-- + +"I know he kin, 'cause I seen him--onct!" + +"Aw, yeh didn't neether," Jimmy Thurston flatly contradicted. + +Willie wriggled and dug his heel into the soft earth. + +"I _did_----" + +"Didn't _neether_!" + +Willie Trigger sprang to his feet, his fists clenched. Tears were rising +now. + +With his eye Jimmy Thurston measured the distance across the field to +the white house at the gate where he knew his mother was. Leaping +forward he dashed suddenly away, and as he dodged the gurgling Willie, +cried: + +"_Li_-ar! _Li_-ar! _Li_-ar!" + +It took Willie Trigger three seconds to perceive the situation and to +act. Like a hound, then, he was off in the other's wake. + +The straining Jimmy, his heart bursting with regret, heard his pursuer +panting at his heels.... Nearer! Nearer! + +A scream suddenly rent the air, a scream that was carried on by a +willing wind to the keen appreciative ears of motherhood. As Willie +Trigger was about to close upon the plunging form of Jimmie, Mrs. +Thurston flung back the screen door and appeared upon the narrow back +porch, wiping her hands on her apron. + +"Jim-_mee_! _Jim_-mee Thurston!" she screamed. + +"Maw!" yelled Jimmy dolorously. + +At the maternal screech, Willie Trigger brought up standing. One instant +he hesitated and then, showing his heels to the woman on the porch +whose arms were outstretched to receive her own, he scurried off in the +direction of the judges' stand, as fast as his little legs could carry +him. He heard the warning cry from the back porch:-- + +"Willie Trigger, if you hurt Jimmy, I'll skin you alive!" + +And at the corner of the judges' stand he ran full into the long, lank +creature in the flapping "shorts"--and brought up, gaping. + +"Well, well, who was after _you_?" asked the towering runner, gazing +down at the little grimy boy whose head seemed to come somewhere about +his high-set knees. + +"Nobody," Willie Trigger mumbled. + +"Who was that calling?" + +"I dunno." Willie looked up and the runner smiled down at him. + +"Where do you live?" he asked. + +"On Thayer Street." + +"Way down there, eh? What you doing up here, then?" + +Willie Trigger again looked up into the gaunt creature's long, thin +face, then down at the ground into which he proceeded to bore with the +stubbed toe of one small shoe. + +"Come to see you run," he mumbled, and grinned sheepishly. + +Bunny laughed drily. + +"Well, I'll"--he began and stopped. Then he said:--"You wait here, +little chap; I'll just get into some clothes and we'll go home together; +it's nearly noon. I live down your way----" + +The gentleness of his voice gave Willie Trigger a new courage. + +"I know it," he exclaimed proudly; "I live 'cross the street." + +The runner plunged into the box-like compartment of the disused judges' +stand from which he issued in an incredibly short space of time more +properly and far more becomingly clad. + +"How did you know I was going to practice out here?" he inquired with a +show of interest. He made no effort to look down--for it would have +meant an effort. + +"I follered yeh," was the now prompt reply. + +And into Bunny's man-heart that instant there welled a certain pride, +but it was nowise to be compared to that which swelled the boy-heart of +Willie Trigger, hero-worshipper. + +And so, down Washtenaw Avenue they walked together, through College +Street and on into the campus and across; Willie Trigger the while +attempting vainly to keep step with his ill-matched companion. + +At a corner they separated. + +"You're going out to Field Day on Saturday, aren't you?" Bunny asked. + +Willie Trigger grinned, and nodded. + +"Don't buy a ticket," the giant said, "I'll give you one; you remind me; +will you?" + +The small but agile heart of Willie Trigger leaped into his throat. All +he could say was "Whoop!" And saying that he ran, in the very excess, +the richness and the wealth, of the joy that was his. A ticket! A ticket +whereby he might enter through the gate with the crowd--a part of it--a +proud part of it! And all this to be granted him by Bunny himself--Bunny +who was to run in the hundred yards for the Western Intercollegiate +championship; he, William Watts Trigger whose father was a mere night +watchman, and who for a week had been examining the fair ground fence +for vulnerable points! Willie Trigger found himself, of a sudden, +voiceless, too full, by far, for utterance. + +Surely, one day--some day--there would come an opportunity of repaying +in kind the beneficence of Bunny, Willie Trigger considered. But the +beneficence was very great. Little did he realize that soon, and by the +very beneficence itself was he to be put in the way of paying back his +benefactor by casting light upon an unforeseen occurrence of great +import, that but for him, must forever remain obscure. + +As it was, Bunny had made a friend, a champion, though he knew it not. + + +II + +In University Hall that Saturday night a man with steel-blue eyes, a +white imperial and a single set of gestures, lectured on "The +Reconstruction of the South." Having been an active and successful +carpet-bagger twenty-five years before, he had played a part of some +importance in the rehabilitation of the Southland and was qualified to +speak with authority on the subject. + +The immense hall was but partially filled. The lecture was very dry and +very uninteresting, save when, now and again a rolling period crowded +with platitudes and false metaphors, was delivered by the pompous person +on the rostrum. Wilma found herself finally attempting to repeat +backward the clause from the Ordinance of '37 which stared down at her +from the arch of the stage. + +"Religion, morality and knowledge, being necessary to good government +and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall +forever be encouraged----" + +She tapped her knee with her fan and moved her lips. + +"Encouraged be forever shall education of means the and----" + +She floundered. + +She tried again as so many others have tried and with no more success. +She tapped her knee angrily, and nudged the sleepy Bunny at her side. + +"Let's get out," she whispered. + +He nodded. + +They were sitting on the aisle at the back. It was but a step to the +door. He followed her, noiselessly. + +In the broad, silent corridor she looked up at him with a smile. + +"I simply couldn't stand it another minute," she said. + +As they issued into the moonlight she drew in a full, long breath and +asked: "Why should any one want to sit indoors on such a night? +It's--it's a _crime_!" + +She was very tiny beside him; he was very awkward beside her. "The long +and the short of it," they were called by those who knew them best. She +was wont to defend their friendship by saying she detested little men, +whilst he complained that great, tall, awkward women he abhorred. + +"Well, if you're both satisfied," Nibs, her brother, said one day after +half an hour of teasing; "I guess the public ought to be." + +Their friendship had grown from the chance meeting on the day of the +State Street race when Nibsey defeated Billy Shaw and then was so +ignominiously defeated by the lank creature who now was his, as well as +his sister's, closest friend and constant companion. That day their eyes +had met--Bunny's and the girl's--across a carriage seat. Only for an +instant though it was, each remembered the instant; Wilma with a certain +indefinite anger, Bunny with a very definite desire that one day he +might meet the owner of the eyes. + +They did not meet formally until a month after and then it was Nibsey +who named them to each other with many flourishes and mock heroics. In a +very short time that glance across the carriage seat had developed into +a close, fine companionship; a companionship so close indeed that it was +deemed sufficient by divers of their friends to warrant whispers that +Bunny and Wilma were engaged. For in Ann Arbor He has but to play two +games of tennis with Her, and take Her on the river once, to have it +become known that They are "engaged"--whatever that sadly misused term +may signify to the non-elect. + +Perhaps, however, in this case there was some reason for the smiles of +patronizing acceptance and whispered suggestions on the part of their +friends, of an unestablished but imagined relationship. Bunny never was +seen with any other girl and Wilma, being out of college and therefore +having a wider acquaintance among undergraduates than if she were a +college girl, was only now and again beheld in the company of another +man. + +One winter they had attended the Choral Union concerts together, had +driven together, and in the spring they had walked together, rowed +together. It was doubly hard for their friends to believe they were not +engaged, for did they not, as well, attend all the lectures on the +course of the S. L. A.? Would a girl demean herself so far, suffer +torture so exquisite, it was asked, as to attend sad lectures with one +certain man if she were not very much in love with him? And if a man +were not willing to make sacrifice of his happiness to be beside her +would he take her to a lecture on a night in June, or even so much as +suggest such a proceeding? + +In commenting and in speculating upon the "affair" their friends asked +these questions, and other equally pertinent; and, as there were no +replies forthcoming, they were compelled by the very absence of +contradictory evidence to nod and smile in that patronizing and +agonizing way that the unengaged have ever smiled upon those whose +hearts they believe Dan Cupid has been using for a target. + +As for Nibsey, her brother, he said nothing. Perhaps he did not care. Or +if he did care his certain knowledge that Bunny was what he was wont to +call "a ripper" and his sister "a good fellow," may have carried with it +a satisfaction that made the relation between them just and proper. + +However, that there may be no misunderstanding at the outset, it is +quite safe to affirm so far at least as Bunny was concerned, that he was +hard hit. It was realization of this, a realization keen, active, that +dismayed him. Of course he believed, as was his right, that Wilma liked +him. But he more than liked her. He hardly felt it his privilege yet to +tell her just how much he liked her, and doubtless could not even though +he deemed the time had arrived to-day. Thus he fretted, and +procrastinated. Even now as he walked beside her under the stars of a +night in June that was full of fragrance, he felt himself floundering in +a sea of uncertainty where edged the shores of which he knew not. So he +sighed, then pulled himself together before she could seek to know the +reason, and said: + +"You ought to have seen me this morning--ought to have seen me with a +new acquaintance I made on the fair grounds." + +And he told her of Willie Trigger and his exploit. She heard him through +in silence. + +"Do you know Willie?" he asked. + +"No," she said. After a moment she added, "Don't you rather hate to be +followed about by the small boys as though you were--as though you were +a circus parade?" + +He laughed. + +It was not the first time she had made fun, as he deemed her attitude to +be, of his athletic attainments, and the admiration engendered by them +among Ann Arbor youth. + +"It's great!" he exclaimed. "Simply great! You have no idea how it seems +to know the small boys are gaping at you in wonder as you pass. I've +watched them lots of times from the tail of my eye and seen them nudge +their companions. Oh, I tell you it's satisfying!" + +Conscious as she was of the assumed vanity she affected a seriousness +when she said:-- + +"But I should think you would rather grown-ups gaped at you." + +"But what can I do to make 'em?" he asked wonderingly. "Just point the +way and I'll take it----" + +"Oh, there are lots of ways," she went on. "You're in the medical +department, why don't you become a great doctor?" + +"I shall," he exclaimed, "but that takes time. Meanwhile I am steeling +myself, practicing with the little boys, you know, so I shan't be +overwhelmed when big people gape at me in wonder a little later----" + +"Oh, you can't be serious!" she cried petulantly. + +"What's the use?" he asked and laughed. "What's the use on such a night, +with the stars overhead, the tree toads scraping, and--and--you here?" + +"But I want you to be," she said; and then ran on: "It has always seemed +so silly to me when you great men come out in ridiculous clothes and run +around and jump and play ball--just like overgrown babies." + +"That's what we are," he replied. "Ann Arbor is only a nursery. It's +only different from other nurseries in that the nurses don't wear little +caps and aprons." He chuckled. + +"Well, anyway, I wish you wouldn't," she said plaintively. She lifted +her face and looked up at him. + +"Really?" He was in earnest now. + +"Yes." + +"Then I won't--that is not after Saturday." + +"Oh, I suppose you'll have to then," she said disconsolately. "You're +entered." + +"But suppose I break the Western Intercollegiate?" he suggested. +"Wouldn't you like that--now, frankly, wouldn't you?" + +She did not reply, so he went on. + +"I'll tell you what. That race will settle it. If I'm beaten I'll never +run again--never. I'll--I'll--give you my running shoes as a souvenir of +my Mercurial days!" + +She laughed and said: + +"But if you _win_--if you _break_ the record?" + +"It shall be just the same--I'll never run again. Under those +circumstances I should be afraid to--afraid I couldn't do it a second +time. I'll keep my record all to myself that way, don't you see?" + +"Oh Bunny!" she cried suddenly as she gave his arm a little squeeze; +"I've been more than half teasing you. Run if you want to. Run all the +time. _But if you don't break the record I'll never speak to you again +as long as I live!_" + +He stopped and looked down at her, into her eyes, and saw the laughter +lurking there. That instant he thought nothing in the world would be so +much to the purpose--nothing at least that he could do--as to take her +in his two big hands and shake her until her bronze hair fell about her +shoulders. But he did no such thing. + +She said, "Well?" + +"You'll see," he answered and they walked on. + +They sat on her porch for an hour and talked of other things. They did +not hear the bells in the library tower as they rang out quarters, +halves, three-quarters of the hour. + +In her room, after he had gone, her eyes chanced to fall upon his +picture fixed with many others on a tennis-net ingeniously draped +between two windows, and she said to the picture: + +"You're a great, tall, awkward, foolish old dear! There...." + +But Bunny, in the solitude of his own alcove, lay awake half the night +floundering in that tossing sea of doubt. + +With the morning however, came resolve. + +"What's the use," he muttered as he lathered his chin before the little +square mirror tilted against the window at the height of his eyes. + +He would run once more--only once. And then---- + +Could she have meant it, he wondered, when she told him she would cut +him from her list of friends if he failed to break the record. He smiled +at the soaped reflection of his long, thin face in the little mirror. + +Ten seconds was a tiny lapse of time but it was the record. A hundred +yards in ten seconds. That was ten yards a second. That was.... Well, +approximately, ten feet at a stride--no, eight. A rather wide stride, to +be sure, but _his_ legs.... Now if he could stride nine feet what would +that bring it? Two and two---- + +Bunny found himself of a sudden involved in so deep a morass of +mathematics that he gave up in disgust--and cut himself. + +He would make an effort--a mighty effort. Of this he was determined. It +was to be his last, he mused, so it must needs be mighty. In any event +if he should fail it would not mean so much; that is, so very much. +Other men had failed, trying to accomplish that which heaven was +determined they should not. And yet---- + +"If you don't break the record I'll never speak to you again as long as +I live!" + +The words were insistent. It was as though Wilma were there beside him, +as he stood before the little dusty mirror, and sounding them over and +over in his ears. + +"By George!" he exclaimed aloud, "I've _got_ to smash it; that's all, +I've _got_ to!" + +As he stepped out upon the broad porch of the low roofed house, the +light of determination was in his eyes and the firmness of a set resolve +had squared his chin. + + +III + +Thursday evening, after he had had his supper, Willie Trigger's mother +dispatched him to the post-office, with a strict injunction to be home +by eight o'clock. Primarily as a result of this injunction and +secondarily as the result of an inherent love of night, Willie Trigger +dawdled on the way. A down-town lad of his acquaintance prevailed upon +him to assist in an attack upon a certain cherry-tree, the location of +which, on Spring Street, he very well knew. He was not loth to join +forces with the down-town youth and forth they fared together, to the +end that it was after eight even before Willie turned into Huron Street +on his long way home. Full of ox-heart cherries and contentment, he did +not hasten. A whipping perhaps, in any event a scolding and a summary +dismissal to his bed might await him, but what availed it? + +"I d' care," he grumbled, bravely, and scuffed his feet. + +As he approached the Cook House loud talk attracted his attention away +from a confectioner's window where were displayed all the goodies +dearest to the hearts of little boys. He quickened his pace. + +Two men were quarreling with a hackman at the hotel door. The hackman +proclaimed his right to a dollar fare; his patrons contested. + +Willie Trigger, looking up from the walk, noted the appearance of the +men. The one was short and squat and gross of features, with a great +black mustache like a duster that he pulled persistently as he haggled +with the angry hackman. His companion was taller, square of shoulder, +with a long, thin face, and a straight, hard mouth above his square, +clean-shaven chin. In expectation of a fight, Willie Trigger held his +breath. + +"There's a half-dollar," he heard the fat man say, "now take it or leave +it." He flung the coin to the pavement, turned and entered the hotel +behind his friend, while the hackman, grumbling still, stooped, +recovered the coin and, clambering upon his ancient vehicle, drove away. +Willie Trigger was disappointed; disappointed that there had been no +open fight and disappointed that the hackman had found the half-dollar. +His nimble eyes had followed it as it rolled half way beneath a trunk +that stood on end beside the curb. When the hackman discovered the coin, +Willie's heart sunk and he set out upon his way. Presently he commenced +to whistle shrilly and it was apparent that the incident had made no +more impression upon his plastic mind than it had upon the minds of the +men with whom the hackman had exchanged compliments. + +As it was, they were shown to a room by a boy in buttons and the loafers +in the office saw them together not again that night. + +The short, squat creature with the huge mustache locked the door and +flung off his coat. + +"Well, we're here!" he exclaimed. + +His friend made no reply. + +"Jack," he went on, "if I don't make a killin' Saturday, my name's +Mud--Mud with a big M! This town is jammed full of marks--soft, easy, +mushy marks. A guy could come in here with three shells and a pea and +clean it up in a day----" + +"If the police would let him," his friend put in with a grin. + +"Rats!" was the contemptuous retort. "I've been figgerin' it all out," +he went on, sinking upon a chair and spreading his short legs to +accommodate his capacious portliness. He savagely bit the tip from a +black, fat cigar. "I've been figgerin' it all out and it's goin' to be +easy. They're muckers; farm-hands; easiest sort o' pickin'!" + +"Well, how you going to do it?" + +Before the wavy mirror on the imitation mahogany dresser, his companion +smoothed his hair with a pair of military brushes taken from his +satchel. + +The fat man chewed his cigar. + +"I'm goin' to get next to-night," he said. "There's always more or less +geezers hangin' round the hotel in a college town, and I'll do a little +pumpin'. I'll find out just what this phenom's been doin' since he went +into trainin'." + +"He's the only one I'm fearin'," his friend put in. "If he can do the +sprint under ten seconds flat he's got Morrison beat!" + +"And _you_ the trainer!" exclaimed the fat man with a deep laugh. "Say, +if your man don't lay all over him--say, I won't do a thing----" + +"Well, be careful, that's all," the other warned. "Don't try to do +anything to-night. Plenty of time to-morrow. You can go out to the track +and have a look at him; he'll be tryin' out." + +"Won't you go?" the pudgy creature asked. + +His friend turned from the stand where he was washing his hands. + +"Say Punky!" he exclaimed, "do you take me for a blamed fool? Big +business me goin' out there; wouldn't it? Do you suppose some of those +wise guys wouldn't know me? I guess not! I'll stay right here under +cover till Morrison shows up to-morrow afternoon. You can go out; and +when you get back you can tell me how this Bunny strikes you--but if I +were you I wouldn't distribute any coin until Saturday. Talk 'Morrison' +and wag your head a bit and get 'em going; then cover their cash all you +want to----" + +"Aw----" the other began. + +"That's right!" his friend warned; "I've been up against this game a +little oftener 'n what you have and I know 'em; I haven't been doin' the +strong arm act for two years at Western College for nothin'--if it +wasn't that I'm goin' t' quit I wouldn't go into the game with you; as +it is, ain't I got as big an interest in th' killin' as you have, I'd +like to know? Don't we break even? It's a fair chance and if they's any +show of coppin' out any of the loose change of these mamma's boys, I'm +the child to do it--with your valuable and sporty assistance, Punky. D' +you see?" + +Apparently Punky did, for he muttered, "Aw right," and flecked the ash +from his cigar. He puffed quickly twice and then said: + +"Giddings, do you s'pose Morrison's next?" + +"Naw," Giddings replied contemptuously. "I sent out a feeler--sorter +touched him up on a 'sell-out' to see how he'd take it and he got +red-headed. Said if it wasn't to be a fair race and the best man win, +he'd pull out. I gave him the 'ha-ha' and passed him a con. about just +seein' how he felt because _I_ wanted it square and then worked the +'honor-talk' strong. He calmed right down and got interested. _He's_ all +right; you needn't worry about _him_. It's this _Bunny_; you've got to +have a peek at him before Saturday, then let your judgment do the rest." + +"Aw yes!" Punky exploded--"Aw yes---- Judgment be blowed! If this +Bunny's square, O. K.; if he's square and slow, O. K.; if he's square +and too fast for your 'wonder,' why----" He hesitated. + +"What?" his friend inquired calmly. + +"Oh well; you leave it to me," was the significant reply. + +Giddings laughed. + +"You can work the game," he said, "only don't let 'em think we're +playin' together; some wise guy might have an idea and put the whole +push next. You know what would happen then, don't you?" he inquired +wisely. + +His companion did not reply. He went over to the one window of the room +and gazed down into the lighted street. Suddenly he turned back and +said: "You go to bed; I'm goin' down to the office and get next." And he +vanished. + +The public room of the old hotel was filled with students. The events +of Saturday formed the one topic of conversation. In the process of +"getting next" Punky Williams, sporting man, (with a record not +altogether immaculate) by maintaining an open ear and a closed mouth, +learned that one name was on the common lips almost as frequently as +that of "Bunny." It was "Morrison." Punky Williams was satisfied. He +asked simple but significant questions now and again of various youths +who lounged near him. He affected a passive, a rather paternal interest +in the "meet," the sprinting event in which was conceded by all to be +the most important. He learned enough to satisfy him that, so far as he +was concerned, but two men would run--Bunny of the U. of M. and Morrison +of Western College, trainer Giddings' _protégé_; the other entries were +unworthy of consideration. He sought his companion in the little room +up-stairs with a heart as light as thistle down and a face that glowed +with pleasure. + +The next morning he walked out to the fair grounds, seeking direction +from time to time from the people whom he passed. + +There were perhaps a hundred students in the paddock watching the +exercises. Punky Williams wriggled his way among them; his little ears +receptive, his mouth close shut. Presently the crowd yelled and he +craned over the enclosure rail. At the top of the course Bunny paused. +With an air of passive interest, Punky Williams took out a stop watch, +then fixed his eyes upon the figure up the course. He saw an arm thrust +above his head and the sunlight glinted on the metal of the starter's +pistol. He caught the time as the report rang out. And as Bunny +high-stepped across the tape he shut his watch with a click and wriggled +back to the rim of the crowd, observed in the moment's clamor by no one +save a single small boy in a very grimy shirt-waist. + +As the bells in the tower of the court-house opposite the hotel rang out +the hour of noon, he burst in upon the loafing Giddings, who, at his +friend's most obvious excitement exclaimed: + +"What th' devil's th' matter; you look as though you'd seen a ghost?" + +"Well! I have!" the breathless Punky puffed. "Giddings," he cried, "I've +seen _him_! I held the watch on him. It wasn't his real speed,--and he +came over the tape grinning; but--_he did it in 10 1-5_!" + +Giddings with an expression of complete disgust upon his smooth, thin +face, sat down again. + +"Punky, you give me a pain!" he exclaimed. "A pain! Great Scott, man; +don't you think there's any difference between 10 1-5 seconds and 9 4-5? +Well, you'd better wake up. _There's an hour, man; an hour!_" + +He opened his newspaper, deliberately; found the sporting page and +commenced to read. + +As for Punky Williams, he lighted another cigar and flinging himself +upon the bed, blew copious clouds of light blue smoke to the cracked and +grimy ceiling at which, the while, he stared fixedly, thoughtfully. + + +IV + +On Saturday Willie Trigger swallowed his dinner in an incredibly short +space of time, and slipped from the house unobserved, while his mother +was in the kitchen haggling with a huckster over the Sunday vegetables. +When the good woman re-entered the dining-room she cast one glance at +Willie's half depleted plate, then rushed through the dark, cool hall +and out upon the porch. + +"Will-_ee_! Will-_ee_!" she called, stridently. + +A rustling of the leaves as the breath of June wafted among them, was +her answer. She went to the gate and gazed up and down the street. Then +with a sigh she returned to the house and closed the door. + +Perhaps Willie had not heard the maternal call. At the instant of its +issue he was balanced on the top of the back fence across the street, +hidden from the maternal eye by the intervening house. At the second +call he plumped down upon a soft ash heap on the other side. If he did +hear he gave no sign, but, after dusting his pantaloons with little +flips and pats of his small brown hands, he ran with all the speed that +he could muster, across the wide, uneven lot. Presently he became lost +to sight among the gnarled and broken trees of a once prolific apple +orchard, beyond. Issuing from the orchard on the farther side, he +crossed another lot--first wriggling wormlike beneath a low wire +fence--and came out into the dusty road that led to the old fair ground +enclosure. To-day that road, as a wide, smooth street disfigured only by +the tracks over which the flat-wheeled trolleys bump, marks the northern +boundary of Ann Arbor's ultra exclusiveness. Behind hedges or half +hidden amid the trees, nestle snug little houses that seem to cry out +against all vulgar intrusion and hug themselves in the very joy of their +most obvious respectability. + +Along this road, thick with dust; now obscured in a cloud of his own +raising, now distinct against the background of the high board fence, +Willie Trigger trudged. Arriving at the long ticket window he was +dismayed to find that the hatch was shut. Bunny had told him there would +be a ticket for him at the window--a ticket for him expressly, in an +envelope bearing his name, else he would not have deserted his dinner to +be the first on hand. Save for a solitary woman whom he saw among the +trees in the wood across the way, the region about appeared deserted. It +was not yet one o'clock, but Willie Trigger did not realize this. +Stoically he sat down at the edge of the long low platform below the +ticket-office window and resigned himself to waiting. + +After ten minutes a dog bounded from the wood into the road. Motionless, +he regarded the lad curiously. As long as he remained in sight Willie +amused himself by throwing stones at him. + +After half an hour a carriage drew up close to the fence and stopped. He +slouched over to the narrow pedestrians' gate at one side of the office. +Two young men, carrying a large, black tin box between them, alighted +from the vehicle, paid the driver and entered the enclosure, fastening +the gate behind them. When they had disappeared Willie pulled at the +gate but suddenly desisted in his attempt to force an entrance as the +heavy hatch of the ticket-office fell with a bang and the same two young +men were revealed at the weather beaten counter. He watched them as +they unlocked the box, on the shiny top of which the bright sun gleamed, +and saw one of them take out several big bunches of blue tickets. Willie +approached the window, then, hesitatingly. His chin barely touched the +edge of the shelf so he stood on his toes. + +"Say--my ticket here?" he asked, boldly. + +The young man who was arranging the bundles on the shelf looked down. + +"What do _you_ want?" he inquired, tersely. + +"I want my ticket." + +"Got a quarter?" + +Willie Trigger's toes gave way beneath him, but he bobbed up again +almost instantly. + +"He said there'd be one here--in a envelope." + +"What?" snapped the young man, "_who_ said there would--what you +_talking_ about anyway?" + +Willie endeavored to explain. He was laughed at for his pains. + +"Run along now," the officious young man commanded. "There ain't any +ticket for you here. Run along--or--or--I'll call a policeman." + +The mouth, then the nose, then the eyes, then the little gray cap of +Willie Trigger descended below the window ledge and he commenced to +sniffle. A large, jagged stone lay on the grass not ten feet away, and +as his eyes fell upon it his sniffling ceased. He picked up the stone. +He poised it in the air an instant, then with all the strength at his +command he flung it diagonally across the fence. He heard the clatter as +it struck the thin boards at the end of the ticket office. He did not +linger to observe any further effect of his assault, for when the +officious young man who had denied to him the existence of his ticket, +crawled upon the ledge and gazed off down the road, there was no little +boy in sight. + +Chagrined though he was, Willie did not for an instant accuse his hero +of any lack of faithlessness. Indeed, as is the wont of small boyhood, +he accepted the rebuff unquestioningly. He made no effort at analysis. +It was merely a whimsical cavort of that unreliable Fate that not +infrequently plays tricks on those who walk in knickerbockers. So +Willie, nothing loth, reasoned simply that as a ticket had never been +necessary before, he was quite prepared to gain an entrance to the +grounds without one, now. Indeed, even as the young man in the office +climbed upon the ledge and gazed off down the road, Willie was examining +the fence for loose boards, along the familiar stretch behind the +ancient grand stand. Many times and oft, when ball games were in +progress, had he, with the assistance of Jimmy Thurston, clambered over +that tall board fence frequently to the complete demolishment of his +shirt waist, which had a nasty habit of catching on the barbs of the +wire that an ingenious care-taker had strung along the top, but, in any +event, successfully, to the more important issue of an entrance to the +field. To-day, however, he was alone, and getting over the fence was +quite a different matter. Since Thursday he had not caught a glimpse of +Jimmy, but now he was wishing that the fat, familiar figure of the lad +would appear around the corner of the fence. There was not a loose board +along the whole stretch, so far as he could discover. Not infrequently +he had, with half a dozen sturdy jerks, succeeded in ripping off a plank +sufficiently wide to permit of squeezing through; but two days before +the same far seeing care-taker who, with so much ingenuity, profanity +and trouble, had strung the barbed wire at the top, had gone over the +entire stockade and nailed securely every board that seemed to him to be +deficient in tightness. It is saddening to tell it; for it rather +weakens the character of Willie Trigger, but at the end of his second +futile patrol along the fence, he flung himself down at the roots of an +ancient apple-tree and cried. Were all the Fates of boyhood set against +him this day in June? + +"Dum it--gosh dum it," he mumbled, gazing through his tears at the +forbidding fence, the top of which looked so low yet was so high--too +high even when he poised on tiptoe and jumped, clutching. As he stared, +his eyes opened wide, the tears were magically whisked away, and he +grinned. + +"Gosh!" he exclaimed aloud, and got upon his feet. + +A branch of the very tree beneath which he had so disconsolately flung +himself, pointed out the way he sought. A single limb--not a thick, +sturdy limb, but rather a weak, unstable sort of limb--hung directly +above the fence at a most favorable point, immediately behind the grand +stand. + +Willie Trigger climbed the tree. Cautiously he crept out upon the +branch, more than half hidden by the foliage. The branch bent beneath +his weight, slight though it was, and once he nearly slipped. His heart +leaped into his mouth, or if not his heart, at least something, but he +swallowed it back and moved along another inch. He wriggled obliquely +until he balanced on his stomach like a bag of meal over a pole. Little +by little he slipped down, the branch giving more and more with every +movement of his agile body. He clung by the crook of his elbows and +wriggled his toes. They touched nothing. For a space he danced upon the +air. Another slip of scarce an inch, and there ensued a ripping and +tear, followed by a sharp crack. + +Thug! + +Willie Trigger struck the soft earth in a sitting posture. The sudden +contact resulted in a private pyrotechnic display of momentary +brilliance. Willie gasped twice like a fish. Blinking away the stars and +whirling Catherine wheels that glittered before his eyes, he looked +about him. "Gosh!" he muttered below his breath, and rolling over rubbed +the point of contact vigorously. Beside him lay the branch, but--goody! +He had struck inside the fence! Moreover, and what was quite as much to +the purpose, he had not been observed. + +Sidling along the rear wall of the grand stand, he reached the corner +and thrust out his head. The big gate was open--the gate through which +he had hoped to pass big with pride, a man among his fellows. A steady +current of humanity in summer garb was streaming through. There were +carriages by the score, the horses driven by young men, many of whom +Willie, from his peculiar point of vantage, recognized. On the seats +beside them were girls--"their girls," he speculated mentally with an +unvoiced sneer. But mostly the crowd was on foot, scrambling, pushing, +jostling. Every individual in the throng seemed bent upon being the +first to reach the grand stand and it was a fine sight to the small +boy, peering around the corner, to see them run. Two men detached +themselves from the crowd and seemed to him to be making directly for +where he stood. Willie Trigger wasted no time in idle speculation as to +their purpose. Turning heel he ran. He plunged around the upper end of +the stand. The door there was open. He disappeared into the long room +directly beneath the seats. He was familiar with the floor plan. He knew +that the partition on his left was false and that the various little +doors on the right opened into tiny dressing rooms. He knew that the one +door on the left offered access, if unfastened, to the cramped and +crowded space beneath the lower tiers of seats,--a dark hole used these +many years as a catch-all for the _débris_ of the grounds, old cans, +broken bottles, worn out shoes, and ancient hoop-skirts. He tried the +door; it opened and he pulled it shut after him, just as the door at the +end was flung back and the two men entered. + +"Where's his room?" he heard asked, in an undertone; then the heavy +footfalls on the loose boards of the floor. + +His eyes became adjusted to the darkness and through the many chinks of +the partition he perceived the men. He recognized them as those who had +haggled with the hackman at the Cook House two days before. He held his +breath, and, as there really was nothing else for him to do, became an +eavesdropper. + +"Punky, we got t' separate," Giddings said. "They'll be next if you +don't; it'll be all right for you to drop in here while they're dressin' +but don't be wise. And for heaven's sake, don't get gay; it's a long +chance you're takin' and you'll take it I know, with five hundred +dollars in the balance." + +"Don't you worry," Punky replied significantly. "I'm takin' no chances; +that's why I got the dope. You couldn't buy this Bunny for a million; +and you say Morrison's as bad. You just leave it to me. I'll be hangin' +around, you bet. When you're dishin' up the soft stuff, you just call me +and say, 'Here, take this in there.' I'll take it--in she goes--and if +it don't mean Morrison'll win this here Intercollegiate, I'm a lobster, +good and plenty. They'd never git next in the world." + +"Well, for heaven's sake don't put in too much," Giddings muttered. + +"Leave it to me,"--was the terse reply and then they went into one of +the dressing-rooms and their voices came only in muffled tone to Willie +in his hiding-place. + +He was not quite certain of the meaning of what he had heard. He was +only certain of the name--"Bunny." Who these men were he did not dream. +Besides, it was none of his affairs. There was one thing however that he +_did_ know, and that definitely; he could not hope to see the sports +from where he crouched. Noiselessly he opened the door. It did not +creak. He tiptoed down the long room. As he neared the end, the door +there was opened suddenly from without and a score of men pressed in. +Willie Trigger whistled as loud as he could and walked on. The whistle, +born of boyhood's genius, saved him. Ordinarily the presence of a small +boy in the dressing-room would perhaps have occasioned surprise, but on +this particular occasion the small boy whistled so shrilly and walked so +independently with his hands deep in the pockets of his knickerbockers +that no one spoke to him; no one seemed even to notice him. He strode +out of the building bravely, crept under the fence at the side of the +track and strolled into the paddock, scuffing the grass and still +whistling. + + +V + +Wilma Morey, exquisitely dainty in a wealth of fluffy muslin flounces +and little bows of ribbon as pink as her pretty cheeks, found a +particularly excellent seat in the first tier, close to the rail. From +where she sat she could sweep with her dancing eyes the entire course, +the crowded paddock, and the stretch of open on beyond. The wire was +immediately below her and directly opposite was the judges' stand. +Perceiving these manifold advantages of her position, she settled +herself comfortably and patted, with most apparent content, her wealth +of flounces. She was very glad that no acquaintance had slipped into the +seat next hers, now occupied by a little fat man in checks. She wished +to enjoy the events of the day in her own way and as privately as she +might surrounded for the greater part by people with whom she had at +least a nodding acquaintance. + +She studied her program diligently, noted the order of events from the +old fashioned "throwing of the baseball" to the "standing broad jump" in +neither of which she was interested. She did not know a man among the +broad jumpers and but one name in the list of baseball throwers was +familiar--Schmidt, a little German, with a blonde head and blue eyes +whom she had met at a sophomore dance in the beginning of the year. So, +when the sleeveless-shirted contestants ran up the track and the clean +white ball was taken from its red box and tossed among them she reverted +to her program nor lifted her eyes again until the loud-voiced person in +the judges' stand opposite bellowed through a bright tin megaphone that +the event had been won by "Schmidt, distance ----" She did not catch the +distance. + +"Next event!" she heard roar from the mouth of the megaphone, "the first +of three heats in the hundred yards. Entries: Bunette, Michigan; +Morrison, Western College; Lacy, Ohio Wesleyan; Cady, Northwestern"--and +so on down the list that she followed on her program with her nimble +eyes. The megaphone man was still bellowing when the atmosphere was rent +by a series of yells from the paddock that would have put a horde of +Comanche braves to the copper-tinted blush. The cheering was taken up by +the grand stand, and canes were waved, and hats were flung into the air +and lungs were split. All this because a dozen gaunt creatures in +flapping "shorts" were prancing up the track in the wake of their +jogging trainers. The crowd behind bore down upon the girl and she only +saved herself from falling headlong over the rail by encircling a stout +roof support with one arm and clinging tight. + +Up the course the line formed. + +"That's Morrison; he's got the post," she heard a full-lunged youngster +cry. + +"There's Bunny on the end!" another shouted. + +"Bunny! Bunny! Bunny!" yelled the crowd and Wilma Morey's face flushed +crimson. Her eyes lighted and her lips quivered with the excitement of +the moment. Behind her the pressure of the crowd had given away somewhat +and she leaned over the rail, eagerly, her fingers curled in the palms +of her hands, every muscle tense. She saw an arm suddenly lifted above +the runners' heads and caught the glint of the sunlight on the barrel of +the pistol. + +The report sounded a long way off, or as though her ears were muffled. +Down the course they came, all heads low save Bunny's; he had a way of +tilting his back, and breathing hard through his nose. In an instant, as +she watched, they passed the further end of the grand stand and in +another the foremost had crossed the line. Pandemonium broke loose. The +crowd in the paddock tore down the fence and rushed into the track +surrounding these modern Mercuries. Wrapped in the robes their coaches +had held out to them they were led away and the megaphone man in the +judges' stand was compelled to clang the deep-throated bell quite three +minutes before he was able to convince the throng that he had something +very particular to say. + +"First heat," he shouted. "Morrison, ten and one fifth; Bunette, ten and +two-fifths; Cady, ten and a half." The stand, the crowd in the track, +even the ancient circus rings in the distance swam before Wilma Morey's +eyes. She lifted her handkerchief to her burning cheek. It was cruel. He +had lost; lost after all his patience, all his hope, all his effort. +Conscious as she was that the first heat did not mean _all_, she yet +realized that it might mean much. If she might only catch his eye, she +thought, and let him know that she among all the others believed in him. +What was she thinking, she asked herself, suddenly. Then she smiled. In +the buzz of conversation all about, and amid the cries from the track +below she caught varying words that seemed to her, in her state of +supreme suspense, to offer a modicum of hope. Still--still---- She +confessed to herself her disappointment. She wished that she had not +come out at all. + +The next event was "throwing the hammer"; and then the hurdles would be +run. Should she stay? she asked herself. Involuntarily she moved toward +the end of the stand where the stairs were. + +"What in thunder's the matter; you going?" she heard a voice ask, then +felt a strong hand on her arm. She turned and looked up into the face of +her brother. + +She clutched his wrist. "Oh, Nibsey," she cried, "he was beaten; wasn't +he?" + +He stared at her quizzically. Then he laughed and led her over to the +rail. He glanced back at the crowd that pressed upon them from behind. +Bending toward her he whispered: "He's just playing 'em. Great Scott! +you didn't think _that_ was his speed, did you? Morrison was doing his +best; Bunny was walking; that's all, just walking. You wait; you'll see +the fastest hundred yards that was ever run on this old track. You hold +your horses. Why, Morrison's trainer knows it's all off. The others--the +'also-rans'--are just waiting for the end. Morrison's trainer's running +around down below like a chicken with its head off. You wait if you want +to see a record smashed." And he pressed her arm reassuringly, and +vanished. + +At the bottom of the stairs he collided with a small boy in a soiled and +torn shirt waist. + +"Cancha see where yer goin'?" the small boy piped after him, then +mounted the stairs whistling. He pushed his way through the crowd to the +rail, and wriggled to a post. Despite the yells of "Down in front," that +were flung at him from the lower tiers, he clung to his position +resolutely. + +"There's Bunny!" he cried as the runners pranced up the track a second +time. Wilma heard the lad's shrill pipe and glancing down caught his eye +and smiled. He grinned. He sidled nearer to her and pressed close to the +rail. + +Willie Trigger decided then and there that he had never before seen +such a pretty girl. She was ever so much prettier, he calculated, than +the new hired girl in the house next door,--at home. He had fallen +desperately in love with _her_ at first sight. Then Wilma spoke to him +and his boy heart bounded. + +"Do you know him, little man?" she asked, softly. + +He wished she had not called him "little man" particularly with so many +about, but her voice was so gentle and her eyes were so beautiful that +he forgave her in his heart straightway and answered, looking down, "Uh +huh; he lives 'cross th' street from our house." + +Her eyes took on a greater brilliance then and a smile played about the +corners of her pretty mouth. + +"So you are Willie Trigger, are you?" she asked so low that he alone +might hear. "Oh, I know all about _you_; he told me." + +Willie Trigger never knew what joy it was to live until that instant. To +think that _He_, the great Bunny, had told _Her_ all about _Him_! It +rendered him for the moment speechless. Yet he gave no sign of the +swelling of his heart unless a sudden kick at the post to which he +clung, and a low, foolish laugh might be taken as a sign. He felt her +hand upon his shoulder as the line of entries formed and was +superlatively happy. + +The pistol cracked. Again the runners came on, swift, straight as +arrows. There had been an instant's hush at the start, but now it was +forgotten in the uproar. Could it be possible, Wilma wondered, as she +leaned far over the rail, hearing above all other sounds the shrill, +piercing screech of Willie Trigger, that the great lank figure there at +the fore of all the rest, his long legs high lifting, his head thrown +back, was the same Bunny who not half an hour before had lagged the +second in the race? And yet, as the creature crossed the wire below her +and the air became filled with waving canes and hats and handkerchiefs, +she knew that such it must have been. Her fingers tightened on the arm +of the screaming lad and she drew him close beside her. + +"Was that Bunny?" she asked eagerly. "They came so fast I couldn't see. +Tell me, was it?" + +He looked up at her, joyful that she had called upon him in her +distress, but what he said was only: "Sure; who'd yeh _think_ it was?" + +She squeezed his arm and he grinned. Something of her great delight was +his to know that instant, though he was only a little boy in a soiled +and torn shirt waist and she a beautiful girl gay in ribbons and fluffy +muslin flounces that made her look for all the world like the fairy in a +certain Christmas pantomime, that was one of his fondest memories. + +"And now let's see when the last will be," she said, glancing down at +her program. + +"They's two 'vents 'fore they run," he explained, for he had learned the +order by heart long since. "They's th' pole vault and th' drop kick. +Then they'll run th' last time." + +She looked at him and smiled and he smiled back quite familiarly. + +"I guess I'll go down now," he said suddenly, and before she could +restrain him, for she had found much amusement in his straightforward +boyish admiration for one whom she, as well, admired, he had wriggled +away and out of sight. + +She leaned over the rail and saw him on the grass below making swiftly +along the front of the stand. + +For a space he hovered about the edge of the crowd at the door of the +dressing-rooms. His chance of entering at last was offered and gliding +between divers pairs of legs he sneaked into the long, low room. All was +confusion here. Half-clad men ran this way and that, calling for drinks, +bath-robes and towels, and among them bustled officiously the man with +the big mustache whom he had seen and heard while hidden in the dark +hole on the other side of the thin partition. He glimpsed, as well, the +other man; his trousers turned up, his coat and waistcoat off, his +sleeves rolled to his shoulders. He was busy squeezing lemons into a +pail. Presently he poured the contents of another pail into the first, +then dumped a bag of sugar into the mixture which he stirred vigorously. + +"Here, Morrison; don't drink that rotten water; drink this," he shouted +and filled a glass from the pail. Morrison, a curly-headed man with +knots of muscle on his legs that looked like coils of rope, gulped +greedily. + +"Here, gimme some of that; this man in here's thirsty," the familiar +black mustached man called out. He took up the glass and moved toward +the half-open door of one of the little dressing-rooms. Willie Trigger +was by some instinctive force, seemingly, moved to sudden action. He was +about to slip past the black mustached man and enter the little room +when he was perceived. A kick was aimed at him and he was adjured to +"make himself scarce or git his block knocked off." Thoroughly +frightened, he slouched away and ran into the open where people were too +interested in other things to knock the blocks off little boys and where +it didn't smell so stuffy and unpleasant. + +He sped across the track where the uprights had been erected for the +pole vaulting, and later he became one of the group that formed a +crescent behind the football kickers. He watched, with admiration +unconcealed, the unerring pedal movements of the heavily shod young men +who sent the ball so beautifully skyward. + +Meanwhile, Wilma awaited impatiently at the grand stand rail the last +heat in the sprint event. She saw the drop-kickers leave the paddock and +heard indistinctly the record that was called across from the tower-like +judges' stand; but these things were not to her liking. Her eyes upon +the track below, she saw a young man in sweater and knee breeches vault +the fence beside the stretch and rush across. He shouted a word to the +megaphone man who at once lifted the glistening instrument to his lips +and shouted: + +"Is there a doctor on the grand stand? He's wanted down below. A man has +been taken suddenly sick." + +The pink fled from her cheeks. Then she smiled. She realized the +absurdity of the little spasm of fear that had seized her. She glanced +down at her card again. + +The runners were jogging up the stretch. She counted them. There was one +missing. Another look of fright came into her eyes. She felt some one +tugging at her dress. She turned impatiently and gazed down into the now +pale face of Willie Trigger. + +"It's Bunny!" he muttered almost incoherently, "oh, it's Bunny! A man +gave him something to make him sick." + +She seized him by the shoulder and held her face close to his. + +"What did you say--_gave_ him something!" she exclaimed. + +"Yes; come quick," and she felt that the child was drawing her through +the thick of the crowd at the rail, to the stairs at the further end. +Afterward she could not tell how it was managed or what she did. But she +followed the lad around the stand, at the back, to the dressing-room +door and then, of a sudden, as though due to the shock induced by the +picture she there beheld, her senses returned to her with a rush. The +crescent at the door parted and she saw Bunny, his face pale and drawn, +stagger forward and lean heavily against the jamb. A man whom she did +not recognize clung to one of his arms and beseeched him to lie down. + +"No," he mumbled thickly. "Run--run, I tell you--lemme go!" He jerked +his arm from the other's clutch. + +He passed the back of one hand heavily across his staring eyes and +broke away. At the fence he staggered again and fell against it. Wilma +came up to him, there. + +"Bunny, they've drugged you, you're sick! The little boy told me!" + +He turned to her his drawn face. For a tiny instant a look of +intelligence came back into his eyes. + +"You!" he muttered. "Drug!" And with a plaintive little cry he sank to +his knees. Some one brushed by her and seized him. Things, for the +second time that afternoon, swam before her eyes and she moved away +unsteadily. When next she looked she saw him alone, running up the track +and swerving from side to side like a drunken man. + +The crowd seemed to understand that a tragedy was being acted there upon +the course. There was no cheering. It was as though the throng held its +breath--waiting. Wilma steadied herself at the fence. She saw the gaunt +figure crouch in the line of the runners. She saw the pistol raised and +heard the sharp report. The tension under which the crowd had +momentarily lived, was relieved by that and a cry was raised that rang +in her ears for hours. She saw the line coming; advancing toward her, +swiftly, surely, but more clearly than she saw the others, she saw the +tall figure of Bunny at the end. His face, uplifted, was like a demon's +face. His lips were tight drawn and showed his teeth and--_his eyes were +shut!_ On he came in advance of all the rest, plunging, swerving. Five +more strides! She closed her eyes, and when she opened them it was to +see him throw up his arms and fall headlong across the line. + +He lay there motionless. The other runners passed him, and the crowd +broke into the track and she saw no more. + +In the judges' stand the megaphone man waited. + +How she got there, whether she was carried, walked naturally, or flew, +she could never tell, but of a sudden, as it seemed, Wilma discovered +that she was in the grand stand again, clinging to a post at the top of +the stairs, while beside her hovered Willie Trigger. She heard the +bellow of the megaphone man: + +"Last heat, one hundred yards! Winning time nine and four-fifths +seconds, breaking the Intercollegiate record! Winner----" The crowd knew +the winner and did not wait. + +Her fingers relaxed in the palms of her hands. A tremor passed over her. +She looked down, breathing hard. + +"Oh, you darling!" she cried, and Willie Trigger, who had not really +understood at all, hung his head in mute embarrassment. + + +VI + +That night, on a low stone horse-block in front of his mother's house +sat Willie Trigger gazing at a lighted window in the second story of the +house opposite, across the drawn shade of which figures passed and +passed again. In that room he knew his hero lay sick. He wondered how +sick; perhaps, he speculated, as sick as he once had been after eating +many green apples. He would watch and wait. Some one surely would come +out of the house before his bedtime. He had followed the hack from the +grounds, had seen the long, slim body carried into the house. No one +paid the least attention to him so he crossed the street and seated +himself on the horse-block. It was not for him to witness the little +drama that was being played behind the window shade.... + +Before he opened his eyes Bunny heard, like high running surf, a low and +rythmic rumble. It was very soothing. + +"What's the matter?" he exclaimed, suddenly, staring at Nibsey Morey who +stood, like a wooden Indian, at the foot of the bed. + +Then he felt something very cool against his forehead and closed his +eyes again. It was no matter, he thought. + +Nibsey withdrew with a nod. + +"He seems to be going to sleep," Wilma said. + +He heard the voice and opened his eyes again with a start. + +"You here!" he muttered. + +And he knew it was she by the touch of her hand upon his cheek. + +She told him then what had happened. He smiled feebly, patiently, as +though he realized she was only trying to comfort him. + +She slipped down upon her knees beside the bed. + +"Don't you understand," she whispered, and her voice sounded far away to +him, "you ran so fast the others were away behind, and you broke the +record, and--oh--oh--Bunny." + +She hid her face on the pillow beside his. + +Then it all became clear to him, her love, and the depth and meaning of +it. He forgave her for what he was pleased to call, in his mind, the +white lie of her comfort. + +"Dearest," he murmured, dreamily, "it's all right; it's all right." He +stroked her hair, feebly. Then, after a moment, he muttered, quite to +himself: "What happened, anyway; why was it they wouldn't let me run?" + + + + +THE DAY OF THE GAME + + _Who he was and what, we knew not; he came among us as a stranger + and we took him in._ + + +I + +For an instant a hush that was more than that enveloped the grand stand, +the crowded veranda of the Athletic Club, and the bleachers opposite. +And then, as though by silent signal, the immense throng got upon its +feet, and with ragged cheers, broke through or leaped the boundary +ropes, and bore down the field, a tidal wave of shrieking youth that +police could not control. + +The girls on the veranda, inspired by the ecstasy of their companions, +cried shrilly and wildly waved their handkerchiefs and the little flags +they carried. Many were left standing there to cheer alone, while their +escorts joined the surging mob that swept upon the dirty-gray, padded +and masked Olympians at the further goal. + +No one seemed to pay the least attention to the Cornell giants as +laggingly they came up the field close to the ropes, and slipped +silently into the dressing-room, disconsolate in their defeat, their +chins upon their breasts, their eyes upon the ground. + +And, as the girls left on the veranda to care for themselves, watched, +they saw eleven stuffed figures lifted in the air to ready shoulders +which bent beneath their weight and thus the strange procession of +triumph and of noise came up the field. + +Above the heads of the moving mass of young humanity canes were waved +stiffly. Hats, torn and broken, were flung about the field. In the riot +of joy each man sought to shout louder, wave higher and leap further +than his brother, so great was the delight the triumph of the team +occasioned among them all. The little boys clinging in the trees and +clustered on the electric towers outside the fence, cheered with the mob +in the field and were glad likewise. The men in blue, waiting beside +their cars in the street, just beyond the gate, grinned at one another +intelligently, as roar after roar ascended to the turquois sky that +domed the gridiron. + +On came the throng, running, bending, stumbling, while the cheers of the +flushed girls on the club house veranda rose shrilly above the +deeper-throated masculine yells. The victors, dirty beyond measure, +plastered with the brown, clinging mud in which they had so valiantly +wallowed for a good two hours--a splendid contest for the honor of the +colors on their stockings--rode their fellows' shoulders uncomfortably, +as the cavalcade, shapeless, soulless, inchoate but voiceful, seethed +and surged across the field. One of them, to save himself from falling, +clutched wildly at the long hair of the bareheaded youth beneath him; +another planted a heavy heel unwittingly in a second bearer's mouth, and +the youth wrenched free and ran up the field sopping his bloody lips, +but turning each tenth step to wave his reddened handkerchief and yell. + +It was such a scene as might have been witnessed by Grecian maidens in +the Stadium of old, when other young giants--the distant ancestors of +these borne now in triumph--were themselves carried, as loftily, as +triumphantly, down the course. + +The shouting continued so vigorously that it shook the windows of the +narrow, low-ceiled, suffocating room where other youths--the +vanquished--were peeling the garments of the battle, and silently +rubbing their smooth, pink bodies with wide, coarse towels. + +The eyes of every girl above were turned down the field and all were +alight; each soft cheek glowed with ruddy color, every nerve was tense. + +Among these now subdued spectators was one who had not cheered, but +whose excitement had been none the less great, as testified to by the +eagerness with which she leaned over the veranda rail, her cheeks white +from the pressure of her slim fingers against them. + +Now, apparently oblivious to her immediate surroundings, her attitude +unchanged, she watched every swerve of the throng as little by little, +and unsteadily, it approached. As the human maelstrom swept on and the +stuffed shapes outlined so ridiculously against the sky became +distinguishable, one from another, the girl smiled and leaned further +over the rail. Another instant and she saw but one figure among the +many--Adams'. He sat higher than the others; was more conspicuous among +them. Again and again, that afternoon, she had seen him seize the ball +and, plunging, forge down the field, clasping it closely to his breast. +Once she had seen him flung heavily to the ground by a low tackle and +had held her breath when a little ring formed where he lay. She took in +her faint breath quiveringly when the ring broke and she saw him get +upon his feet unsteadily. Then the lines formed again--two slanting +walls of fine young brawn. But none of these things that she had seen +had set alight her eyes as they were lighted now. + +With a yell of almost demoniacal joy, the mob surged beneath the +veranda, the warriors crouching on their unsteady pedestals to avoid the +timbers overhead. As he was borne beneath, and out of her delighted +sight, Adams cast one glance up at the girl leaning eagerly across the +rail. Her eyes had been awaiting his and the light that flared in both +their eyes as they met told her that he had fought for her; told him +that she had known he'd win. + +She rose, then, folded her little flag and thrust it into the pocket of +her coat. With the others she descended to the club room below and +waited for him there. + +She withdrew to one side and watched with curious interest the great +crowd in the street, fretting impatiently for a nearer glimpse of the +victors. + +The four horses had been taken from a high tally-ho and a score of +youths were running ropes from the front axle of the vehicle away down +the street. The girl perceived it was the intention of the crowd to drag +the tally-ho to the city in the good old way of joyous, eager crowds. +And as she watched she saw a man in the blue overalls of a laborer, his +face and hands smoke-blackened, break through the throng on the walk and +approach the club house. She saw a policeman step in front of him and +bar the way. The laborer and the officer seemed to argue. The former, +his face toward her, she saw gesticulate angrily and stamp his foot, and +then she saw a look of dumb pain in his blackened face as the officer, +without more ado, seized him by the shoulders, roughly, and turning him +about, pushed him into the crowd which parted to make way for his broad, +squat figure. + +The girl felt a hand upon her arm. She turned quickly and looked up into +Adams' face. + +The little light of fright fled from her eyes and a mist gathered in its +place as she murmured eagerly: "Oh, John, John, how glorious it was!" + +He smiled down at her gladly. + +"And see," she said, "look--they are going to drag the team down town in +the tally-ho." + +Through the window he saw the throng. His face at the pane was +recognized and a cheer rose that prompted the girl to draw back, +blushing. From where she stood at one side she could see a broken line +of the crowd. + +"Oh, look, John!" she cried, "there's that dirty old man again. He's +been drinking--the police drove him away before." + +He turned in the direction of her gaze, then drew away instantly from +the window. + +"What's the matter?" she asked. + +His face was pale and his mouth was set in a straight line. + +"Nothing," he replied quickly. "Come----" and started toward the door +opening upon the now deserted field. + +She followed him unquestioningly. + +On the porch she said: + +"Aren't you going on the tally-ho with the team?" + +"No," he replied, "I don't like being made a fool of. There's a gate +over there on Cass Avenue. We'll go out that way and they won't see us." + +"But, John----" + +"I don't want to ride down town in state," he complained, testily. "I'd +rather be with you. I shall have to be with them until train time. Now, +I'd rather be with _you_." And he looked down at her and smiled. + +By a devious route they finally reached the Campus Martius and at the +little door of a big Woodward Avenue hotel he left her, for she had told +him there would be friends awaiting her there with whom she would take +dinner later. + +"At the train, dear?" she said, as he opened the door for her. + +"Yes. Good-bye till then." + +She followed his great figure with her eyes and saw it disappear in the +crowd below. Then she turned and passed down the narrow corridor from +the "ladies' entrance." + + +II + +It had been a glorious day. + +The first touch of winter was in the air, clear, crisp, and set the +blood a-tingling. + +"Ideal football weather," the sporting writer of the _Journal_ had +called it in the early afternoon edition where, with the wisdom of his +species, he had sought to forecast the game's result. + +In honor of the occasion a gracious citizenry had swathed Jefferson and +Woodward Avenues in bandages of maize and blue, and all day long the +small boy had been as active as though it were the fourth of July rather +than the fifth of November. + +And now in the evening, the older portion of the citizenry withdrew, and +the theatres, the lobbies of the prominent hotels, the clubs, and all +the places of public meeting, were turned over, unconditionally, to +youth. + +A kindly disposed commissioner of police had instructed his men to be +lenient. + +"Boys will be boys," he said to the captain on night duty at the Central +Station, as he left the office. + +"But what about the _girls_?" inquired the captain with a twinkle in +his own eyes that was almost youthful. + +"Well--they will be, too--sometimes," the commissioner replied. + +In the lobby of the Russell House, where the team was installed, the +mayor of Detroit--who himself had been an undergraduate once and +remembered it--addressed the throng below him, from the first broad +landing of the wide marble stairway. + +His rounded periods were cheered to the echo; and when he drily observed +that all the policemen had been taken off duty the roof fairly lifted +and guests came pouring into the corridors, their faces clearly +indicating their alarm. + +"You know," the mayor observed, his eyes twinkling,--"we've what they +call a slow town here. Well, it rests with you boys, for this night at +least, to make it fast. Moreover, it's an old town, a _very_ old town, +and wherever you find an absence of paint you have my permission and the +permission of the commissioner of police to redecorate. I suppose red +would be the proper tint. I have had a fondness for the color ever since +I was one of you--an undergrad. at old Ann Arbor----" + +In the pandemonium that ensued the mayor judiciously withdrew. The crowd +"rushed" the lobby, and staid old men, in town over the day, sought +places of greater security on landings, behind pillars, and in corners +whence might be had a view of the proceedings without, necessarily, +participation. + +One by one various members of the team appeared at the head of the +stairway and at each appearance a welcome of ringing cheers was sounded. +The director of athletics, a little man with a wiry mustache and a +square chin addressed the crowd from the top step after prolonged cries +of "Speech! Speech!" + +The trainer, a huge man with a face like a fist, a Cockney accent, and +the shoulders of an ox, shouted a few phrases above the din. Each time +he uttered the word, "Michigan," which he insisted upon pronouncing +"Mitch-ti-gan," he was cheered wildly. + +When Adams appeared on the upper landing and hesitated there the +commotion became deafening. + +A section of the throng swept up to him, seized him and carried him +further down where he was made to blurt a few incoherent sentences in +which one caught, above the noise, a constant repetition of the +words--"fellows"--"great"--"wiped 'em up"--"knew it"--"right stuff"--and +others from the campus jargon, generally as unintelligible as Ute +gutterals. + +Then he, too, descended and became an atom of the matter below as eager +to cry "Speech!" to the others when they should appear, as the mob about +him now had been to demand a word from him. + +It all combined to constitute a riot of triumph, a veritable debauch in +the sensation of triumph--a triumph well won, and fairly; honestly +accepted, and as honestly celebrated by nearly three thousand as +irresponsible young spirits as ever took possession of a town. + +Into the streets they poured. The police gritted their teeth and +restrained themselves with an effort, the strength of which their +tormentors did not dream. + +Passers-by were good-naturedly jostled off the pavement by phalanxes of +obstreperous lads, who swept all before them as arm in arm, eight and +ten abreast, they advanced upon the city. + +Money had been wagered and money had been won and there was money to +spend and be spent; and they spent it. They took possession of the +restaurants. In the theatres they shouted the choruses of all the songs +they knew, and between acts they whistled, stamped and applauded, in +that deadly unison and rhythm that has been known to bring buildings +tumbling about the heads of less vehement folk. + +And why all this stampede of ecstasy? + +Because two minutes before the umpire's call of time, John Adams, a +tall, broad, blonde giant, whom few of his worshippers really knew, had +found an elliptical pig-skin and, rushing like an engine of destruction +down a well turfed field, had touched it to the ground behind a pair of +slim, straight poles. + + +III + +The theatre was packed. The throng extended into the lobby where the +ticket scalpers in the faces of the police hawked their coupons each of +which called for "an orchestra chair on the aisle three rows back." The +leader of one group leaned against a convex bulletin board bearing the +lithograph of a gaily garbed soubrette in red, and waving his cane +shouted the first line of a familiar college song. Each man of the group +lent his voice to the clamor and there was at once precipitated a riot +of discord in which the original air was lost in a brazen yell. There +was much rushing; a congestion at the window of the box office at which +hands were thrust between the fingers of which dangled government notes +of various denominations. Beyond the window, his bust framed in the +narrow rim of metal the treasurer of the theatre sat on his high stool +dealing out the tickets with the _sang-froid_ and ease of a judge upon +the bench. Men left their change there on the ledge. The treasurer +always shouted at them once--perhaps it was the voice of his conscience +merely--then with a sweep of his curved palm magically transferred the +money to the till. A solid V of eager youth with its apex at the narrow +door of green, pushed and jostled and shouted. + +"Look out there behind, you're squeezing a lady!" some one cried. + +"Don't she like it?" called an ungallant if witty youth away at the back +of the crowd. There was a little feminine shriek, then a peal of +laughter in which the throng joined. The police in the lobby were +completely at a loss. No man was to be arrested, their commissioner had +instructed them. But they gripped their clubs nervously; longing to leap +into that seething maelstrom of manhood uncontrolled and wield them to +the best purpose. A policeman is born with a hatred for loud-voiced +youth--particularly if the youth wear good clothes of trim and +fashionable cut. So the policemen there in the lobby, disarmed by the +strict injunction of their chief, were as helpless as babes, and like +babes they drew down their mouths and gripped tighter that which was +within their clutch. Now and again, however, one, bolder than his +fellows, and moved perhaps by a spirit of chivalry would shout +gruffly:-- + +"Remember there are ladies in this crowd, you fellows." + +"Sure," some one in the throng would yell. + +Finally the manager appeared and stationing a man at each of the two +other doors flung them back and relieved the pressure at the one. This +stroke of genius resulted in a quick emptying of the brilliant lobby and +an equally sudden congestion at the tops of the aisles where the ushers +in their dark green uniforms were conducting the audience to the seats +below amid the confusion resulting from exchanged coupons, balcony +tickets presented on the lower floor and the presence in the crowd of +"general admissions" who demanded their rights to a seat anywhere in the +house. The manager, a tall young man with a black mustache and black +eyes darted here, there, through the crowd, thrusting aside the men +whose money he had taken, and seeking by every means at his command to +wrest order out of chaos. + +It was after eight o'clock before the score of ushers were by +circumstance permitted to emerge from under the burden of their +responsibilities and creep away down-stairs to the smoking room where, +flinging themselves on the long low lounges in sheer fatigue, they +berated the patrons of the house roundly and condemned each and every +one to the hottest depths of a boiling hot perdition. + +Ten minutes later the manager himself conducted the men of the +victorious eleven to their adjoining boxes, on the right. The great +audience had had its collective eye upon those boxes and at the +appearance of the men a great shout went up from pit and gallery that +sent the cold shivers up and down the spines of the already nervous +actors behind the gold and scarlet curtain. + +"There's the Count," some one shouted. + +"Where? Yes!" + +And the short heavy person with the baby face who had been thus honored +by selection from among his fellows arose in the box and bowed. The +throng cheered again and after that each man in turn was called for and +each man rose and bowed. + +During the clamor attendant upon this official welcome of the victors, a +dozen men, quite as tall, quite as broad and quite as serene of +countenance, were ushered into the corresponding boxes across the house. +Their appearance was not noticed, for the entire audience had turned in +its seats to observe the men of Michigan, proud in the triumph that had +come to them. But, finally, after each man had been given his salvo of +applause some one noted the men on the other side. + +"There's Cornell," was cried. + +And the audience, to its everlasting credit, and after the fashion of +youth's wild way, repeated for their good cheer the welcome they had +given the fellows of the maize and blue. The vanquished had hardly +expected the ovation they received. A football man is not a modest +creature as a general rule, but in this instance it must in justice be +recorded that several of the brawny giants in the left hand box withdrew +behind the curtains. + +Their names, however, were known to the throng below them and were +called. + +Finally, unable by modesty to end the uproar, they rose, one by one and +bowed, and the feeling engendered that moment has never died, but lives +in the hearts of Cornell men to-day, who are wont in reminiscent mood to +refer to it as the "finest show of fellowship on record." + +A youth with a high tenor voice, who could not be distinguished from the +rear of the theatre started the chorus of "The Yellow and the Blue." The +boys around him took it up and the citizenry of Detroit, in the balcony, +were treated to such a song recital as they had never before heard. In +the midst of it the discovery was suddenly made by some keen youth in +the gallery that one man was missing from the right hand boxes. He +nudged his companion. The word was passed along the rail. Then, with a +suddenness that caused the women in the balcony to start with little +screams, one name was shrieked above the clamor of the lower floor:-- + +"Adams! Adams! Adams!" + +The singing ceased. + +The cry was taken up, repeated, screeched. + +A commotion was observed in the box and then a tall figure arose. It was +the manager. A silence that was awesome descended upon the house. + +He held up his hand. + +"I'm sorry," he began. + +"Adams!" some one shrieked. Part of the audience laughed. The rest +hissed. + +"I am sorry," the manager resumed, "but Mr. Adams is not here to-night." + +He sat down. + +It was well that at that instant the orchestra commenced a medley of +college airs by way of overture. + +Presently the shrill tinkle of a little bell was heard and with a swish +the curtain lifted, disclosing the glittering, golden court of an +Oriental monarch. There was a blare of trumpets and a score of lithe +limbed dancers appeared upon the stage. The crowd cried its huge +delight and the college yell was flung across the footlights to the end +that several of the dancers made missteps, and, covered with a confusion +that brought forth another cheer, rushed into the wings. + +After that first catastrophe the audience lent itself to a full +enjoyment of the piece. Occasionally when the chief comedian gave +utterance to a joke of ancient manufacture, the throng gave voice to its +displeasure, by way of criticism, but more often the clamor sprang from +keen appreciation of a song or bit of funny "business." + +In all the audience there was, perhaps, but a single spectator whose +face showed him to have no interest either in the audience and its noise +or the action on the stage. He sat at one end of the balcony, back from +the rail, unnoticed by those about him, satisfied, seemingly, to look on +without participation either in the pleasure or the anger of the crowd +around him. When his gallery champion cried out his name he had shrunk +in his seat and almost held his breath, but now he sat up, his arms +folded across his deep, broad breast. + +He had entered the theatre late. Indeed there had been no one in the +lobby when he bought his ticket. He was glad when he learned the +location of his seat. He had thus far avoided all contact with the +crowd. He would continue to avoid it. Through the first long act he sat +looking down, apparently seeing nothing, staring blankly as though +dreaming, yet awake. + +When the second act was well under way, he glanced at his watch. He drew +out his hat from beneath the chair and inconveniencing no one, left his +seat. He glided up the aisle close to the wall. In the lobby, less +brilliant now, he squared his shoulders and pulled in a long, deep +breath. He lighted a cigarette and for a space stood just outside the +door, in the street, idly watching the passers-by. + +At the soldier's monument a group of students--he recognized them as +such in the lighted thoroughfare--had formed a ring around some one who +appeared to be dancing on the asphalt as they shouted, rythmically, and +clapped their hands. As he watched, Adams saw the ring part on the side +nearest him and he glimpsed the dancer. All the blood went out of his +face. He threw away his cigarette and buttoned his coat nervously. With +a cry, the ring resolved itself into two lines and paraded down the +street with the dancer, who was obviously unsteady on his legs, +supported by a twain of students at the front. Adams, at the edge of the +curb, perceived the goal toward which the poor little procession was +making its way--the portal of a huge German restaurant which he knew +well. A picture of its interior as he remembered it flashed upon his +mind--the long room, filled with tables, many white clad waiters, stolid +of face, light of tread. The head of the procession reached the wide +door, bright beneath the great electric sign above. He waited until the +last man had entered, then crossed the street swiftly. In the outer hall +he heard a medley of noises beyond the mahogany and glass partition. He +heard the quick shuffle of feet. Some one was trying to dance on the +sanded floor. In the midst of the jig he flung back the connecting door +and entered the room of riot. + + +IV + +He was immediately perceived and the crowd with a single voice shouted +him a welcome. Through the shifting gossamer of smoke that filled the +room he distinguished many familiar faces. + +"Come over here, old man," he heard some one call, and turned. He stared +without sign of recognition at a young man, who, with many gestures, +indicated a vacant chair at a near-by table. He saw the smoke, the +waiters gliding noiselessly through it, the littered floor, the wet, +glistening table-tops. These misty details he saw mistily, as one sees +things in a dream. + +His face was pale; there were unfamiliar lines about his mouth, and an +unnatural glitter was in his eyes. + +He saw the dancer, a man of age who wore the clothes of a laborer, fling +himself heavily upon a frail chair at the nearest table, across which he +leaned unsteadily, wagging his head and muttering incoherently. + +Adams strode over to him and laid a hand upon his shoulder. + +"Come," he said, quietly. + +With an effort the man balanced his head and lifted his heavy eyes. + +"Come," Adams repeated. + +It was as though the youths at the other tables knew it to be a +psychological moment. The noise subsided. Every eye in the room was +intent upon Adams, strong in his splendid youth, and the man beside whom +he stood and who was weak in his age. + +Adams was seen to encircle the man's shoulders with one arm and fairly +lift him from the chair. On his feet he was unsteady. Adams supported +him to the door of the restaurant, which swung back noiselessly as the +ill-mated couple disappeared. + +Then were exchanged many glances among those who had watched the little +play in silence. + +"What's he going to do with the old guy?" some one asked. + +A general, half-forced laugh of relief ensued, which broke the tension, +and immediately the company relapsed into its previous state of +conviviality. The songs were resumed. The noise developed swiftly and +the strangely incongruous incident of Adams' disappearance with the +drunken moulder was forgotten straightway. + +No one even took the trouble to go to a window to see if developments +had occurred outside. And if one had been thus sufficiently interested, +he would merely have observed Adams hail a passing cab, into which, as +it drew up at the curb, he thrust the man, hesitating an instant with +his hand on the door to mutter a certain address to the cabman leaning +from his box. + +The driver touched his horse, and the vehicle swung into Woodward +Avenue. Of a sudden, from the dark patch of pavement that the restaurant +faced, Adams felt himself flung into a maelstrom of light. + +The façades of two theatres were all a-glitter; an immense confectionery +across the street was ablaze, and, looking down at the pavement through +the window in the cab door, Adams noted the weird, distorted reflections +in the asphalt ooze that gives the city streets at night the uncertain +quality of a looking-glass wantonly smeared with pitch. + +He blinked in the yellow glare of the street illumination. It was as +though he were passing through a tunnel of brilliance. A car whirred by, +with clanging gong. He caught a fleeting, swift glimpse of the several +passengers. + +As the cab proceeded, his attention was attracted now and then to groups +of young men loitering at various corners as though in contemplation of +some deed, very secret, if not very terrible. The lilting chorus of a +college song that he recognized was brought to him in the noiselessly +rolling cab. Before the last store-lights in the business district were +passed, he had obtained such an impression of the city as he had never +had before. + +Through the window in the door he saw the skeleton trees in Grand Circus +Park as the cab cut the circle of its area, and he shivered at the +prospect of the winter they suggested. + +A sound very close to him caused him to start. He smiled, looked down, +and the smile went out of his eyes and left them cold and hard. + +The man beside him had succumbed to the comfort of the cab, and, asleep, +was snoring gently. Passing beneath an electric lamp, the light fell an +instant on his face--pale beneath the stubble beard and the splotches +of grime. His knees were high and his hands, broad, work-hardened, lay +limp upon them. + +Adams turned again to the window. + +The cab was passing through a residence district now. He noted with a +shifting, vague interest, the houses--big, shapeless for the most part, +and set far back in broad yards. The lights in the lower stories glared +yellow like the earth-close eyes of crouching monsters. + +Suddenly Adams pulled himself together. He began to experience a +livelier interest in the dark picture of the street, with its broad +curbs, its iron fences, dark hedges, and wide yards. He pressed his face +against the window in the cab door, and now and again twisted his neck +to gaze as far back down the street as the swift motion of the vehicle +would permit. + +He remembered definitely, vividly, certain landmarks of his young +boyhood, as he was whirled on, noiselessly, save for the rythmic +_clackety-clack_ of the horse's hoofs on the echoing asphalt. There was +the house from the side yard of which he had once, as a tiny lad, stolen +a great armful of roses. There, again, was the house with the smoke tree +near the porch behind which Pauline, his little sister, and he had once +hidden until the policeman passed, indolently swinging his night stick. + +Adams smiled at the recollection. + +The cab came opposite a tall apartment house at the junction of a +cross-town car line. On the ground now occupied by the ungainly, +rambling pile of stone, he remembered vividly, had stood, when he was a +very small boy--hardly big enough to push his cart--a little shack +occupied by an old cobbler, deserted in his age by a son who had robbed +him. Very many were the hours he had spent in that little shop. He +recalled certain of those hours with a momentary pang of sadness. The +cobbler had been a soldier in Poland, in his time, and was wont to tell +great stories of his own valor, to which the yellow-headed lad, all +forgetful of his mission and his cart, had listened wide-eyed and +open-mouthed. The memory came swift and certain and distinct in detail +and in the richness of it Adams shrank from the ugly stone pile in +passing, as though it were a horrid thing thus to thrust itself upon a +young man's memory of his little boyhood. + +As he dreamed thus the cab turned a corner, suddenly. The rich +residential thoroughfare vanished like the palace in the pantomime, and +Adams, his face still close to the glass, saw a row of little, squat, +mean houses, set regularly behind low white picket fences. Only here and +there a light shone from small, square windows. The street seemed +totally deserted, save for a single dog that he saw crawl under one of +the low latched gates and vanish behind a house that was like all the +others in the little squalid street. And as he noted these things, the +cab pulled up before such another house, and, mechanically, he passed +his hand over his forehead, as a child does when awakened. + +A brief parley ensued with the burly driver of the cab, comical in his +bristling fur cape. + +"Kin yeh git 'im out?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +One of the windows in the second story of the cottage before which the +cab had stopped, was aglow, and across the drawn shade a shadow passed, +and passed again. + +Adams shook the sleeper in the cab. Finally after a series of muffled +grunts and grumblings that were like remonstrances, the man was gotten +out. + +"All right?" inquired the driver, gathering up the reins. + +"All right," Adams replied; whereat the driver spoke to his horse, +turned, and drove back down the squalid street. + +Adams supported the tottering figure of the man to the door of the +house and fumbled for the knob, which, when his fingers found it, turned +in his hand and the door swung open. On a table in the room at the end +of the narrow, bare, unlighted hallway, stood a lamp, turned low. As he +half carried, half led the man into the room, Adams heard footsteps +overhead. And as he cast his burden down upon a carpet-covered lounge, +pushed back against the wall at the further end of the room, he heard a +voice from above call: + +"Iss dat you?" + +"Come down," he answered. + +There was a little frightened, feminine "Oh!" followed by quick, heavy +footfalls on the bare stairs. The next instant the short, thick figure +of a woman was framed by the doorway. The light of the lamp struck her +face which was broad and kindly. + +"Chon!" she exclaimed. + +His eyes met hers and he smiled faintly. Then his gaze wandered to the +lithograph of the Christ tacked to the wall, and to the couch beneath, +and he said: + +"There's father; I brought him home." + +The woman uttered a little cry and bent over the prostrate figure. + +"Ah," she muttered. Then, glancing back over her rounded shoulder, she +asked: "Where you git heem?" + +"Down town," the boy replied, quietly. + +"So." And the woman sat down again, and as long as her son was with her +she kept her eyes upon him, oblivious, seemingly, of the unfeeling body +on the couch. + +"Ven you come in?" she asked. + +"This morning," he replied. "I played football to-day." + +"Och, yes," she murmured, nodding. "I heard dee noise. Yes." + +There ensued a moment's silence that was complete, save for the heavy +breathing of the sleeper on the couch. + +"Chon," the woman said, calmly, "you don't do dat?" And she indicated +with a gesture the prone shape on the lounge. + +The boy laughed forcedly, and shook his head. + +"No," he said. + +"Och, yes, no," his mother muttered. + +"How's Pauline?" he asked. + +"She's vell; she's to a dance." + +He shivered as with cold. + +"Isn't it late?" he asked. + +"No," his mother replied. "She be home maype a hour; maype two hour." + +Each seemed conscious of the infinite labor of the conversation. + +"Well," John said after half an hour, "I guess I'd better be going." + +"So soon!" his mother exclaimed. "Vy not in de morning? We go to church, +you ant me." + +He shook his head, sadly. + +"No," he said. "I must go back to-night. The train leaves before long." + +"All right," she muttered. + +At the gate in the low fence he turned. His mother's figure was +silhouetted against the light of the room at the end of the hall. + +"Good-bye," he said, "and tell Pauline to take care." + +"Goot-pye," she called to him softly. + +She turned back into the house at once and he heard the door shut. + +Passing beneath an electric light he examined his watch. The train was +due to leave in an hour. He decided to walk to the station. The cold +felt good on his face. + +He straightened his shoulders and walked with long, even strides, +looking neither to right nor left. + +He found Janet waiting in the shadow of the baggage-room doorway. The +station was thronged with a shouting, jostling crowd. Taking her arm, +he guided her through the gate and assisted her to the platform of the +last coach. + +"You hold the seat, will you?" he asked. "I want to smoke. We broke +training to-night, you know." + +She nodded, smiling. + +And until the porter's call he paced up and down the long train shed. As +the train pulled out he swung himself to the platform of the rear coach +and entered. + + +V + +A throng of several hundred awaited the arrival of the train at midnight +in the railway yards. At the first shriek of the whistle away beyond the +bend of the river the cheering commenced. It gathered force sufficiently +to smother completely the pounding of the great engine as it thundered +past the trim little station and came to a grinding stop. + +In the crowd that packed the platform the old men were as eager as the +lads; and there were not a few such old men with white in their hair and +lined faces, that the lights of the station made radiant. Professors +were there, eagerly jostling, squirming, edging in the crowd, holding +their own in the tight-squeezed mass with elbows every whit as pointed +as the elbows of the youngsters that the youngsters thrust into _their_ +sides. + +The crowd discovered at once that the team was in the second coach and +before a man of the eleven had reached the platform the car was +surrounded. + +Late as was the hour, speeches were demanded, nor was a path opened +through the throng until the demand had been acceded to. A circle formed +around the band and its brassy noise blared out upon the night until +every townsman within range of the farthest-carrying horn flung up his +window and poked a head wonderingly into the outer darkness. + +As the crowd surged down the platform to the front of the train, Adams, +taking advantage of the clear way at the rear, assisted Janet to the +ground and unobserved they passed out into the street through the tall +turnstile in the shadow of the baggage-room. + +She breathed deeply of the cool night air and he felt the pressure of +her hand upon his arm as her steps quickened to his. + +In the crowded train she had refrained from all attempts to learn the +reason for his silence. Only now and then, as in answer to some question +that she asked him, had he spoken in the hour and a half required to +cover the forty miles between Detroit and Ann Arbor. + +But now in the silence of the darkened street she took courage. At the +top of the steep hill, as they passed beneath a sputtering electric +lamp, she looked up at him and asked: + +"What is it, John--tell me--what is it?" + +She hung upon his reply eagerly, a little frightened, though she +realized, in seeking to analyze her foreboding that she could not tell +herself why she should. + +"There's a great deal, Janet," he replied calmly. She perceived an +unfamiliar note in his voice, a note that seemed to her to sound a sort +of resignation. + +"But _what_---- Can't you tell me? Has anything happened?" + +For a moment he did not answer, but then he said: "Yes, dear; several +things have happened--several things----" + +"What?" she asked, almost in a whisper, and he felt her hand's pressure +upon his arm again. + +He continued, ruminatively, quite as though she had not spoken: "Several +things, that make other things clearer to me now--much clearer." + +She had never heard him speak like this before. Perhaps it was a matter +intimately personal with him, too intimately personal even for her to +share his knowledge, his consideration of it. She almost regretted +having asked him. Why had she not prattled on about the game, the +splendid victory, his own skill? But when next he spoke she understood +she had done no wrong. + +"I must tell you about those things, Janet; I must tell you +now--to-night--I have meant to before." + +Her hand upon his arm tightened its grasp. + +"John, what _is_ it? _What_ has happened?" Now she made no effort to +conceal the fright that sounded in her voice. + +He patted her hand, white on his black sleeve, and laughed +lightly--forcedly, she thought. + +"There, don't be afraid," he said, "I haven't committed any crime." + +She laughed then herself, and said, "You _did_ frighten me, though." + +They had come to the library. As they passed, the deep throated bell in +the tower rang out twice upon the stillness--tang--tung. + +Fifteen minutes past one, Janet calculated. + +They took the diagonal walk to the crossing of South and East University +Avenues. Her room was in the second house from the corner, on the former +street. + +He seemed of a sudden to perceive where they were, for, looking about +him, he said: "Janet, it is something I must tell you for your own +sake. And when I'm through, you can say to me what you think; it won't +hurt." + +A step and they were at her home. + +"Can't you sit here on the porch a few minutes?" he asked; "I shan't +keep you long." + +With sudden anger she replied:-- + +"John, if you don't speak out at once what you have to say, I shall go +in immediately. You've said again and again that there is something you +must tell me; why don't you? Couldn't you see; can't you see now that I +haven't begged you to tell because it seems to pain you." + +"It does," he exclaimed, "you can't know how it pains me." He looked +down at her where she sat on the step and into her uplifted face. + +"What is it?" she asked calmly, now. + +He sat beside her. + +"I hardly know where to begin," he commenced and hesitated. He seemed to +be arranging the words in his mind, for, after a moment he resumed. + +"I told you it wasn't any crime," he said. "Well, maybe it isn't, but +Janet," he went on quickly, "while you were standing at the window of +the club this afternoon, you saw a man--do you remember? He wore +overalls. His face and hands were black. You said you saw a policeman +push him back into the crowd, and you believed him to be drunk---- He +was drunk, Janet----" + +"How do you know?" she asked, quite indifferently, "did you see him +again?" + +"Yes, I saw him again," he said. "I saw him in a big restaurant that was +crowded with students, men whom I know, whom I have eaten with, whose +cheers till now have been--been inspiring to me----" + +"John--really----" the girl put in impatiently. "I can't see why that +drunk man should have made such an impression--that common laborer--nor +what he can have to do----" + +"Wait a moment," he remonstrated. "You remember, when you called my +attention to him, I took you out across the field, and down town another +way? Yes? Well, I had a reason. I didn't want that drunken man to see +me--to see you----" + +"But, dear," she exclaimed with a little laugh. + +"It was my father," he said, quietly. + +"John!" + +Passion, shock, anger, perhaps pity, were all in the tone of her +exclamation. Unconsciously she drew away from him. + +"Don't be afraid," he said, holding out a hand to her, "I shan't smirch +you----" + +She realized her movement then, and pity filled her heart, pity for +this great creature beside her whose own heart, the heart she knew, was +like a child's. + +"Dear," she murmured, "don't think that. Don't. I didn't mean to." + +He seemed not to notice the plea in her voice. + +"I don't blame you," he went on as calmly as before, "but it was because +I _knew_ you would do just that that I haven't told you before. But +now--I can't wait any longer. Listen. My parents are Poles, Janet. My +father and mother were born in the same tiny town in Poland a little way +from Cracow. They came to this country when I was only five years +old--before my sister--my little sister Pauline, was born. My father was +a peddler at first; afterward for a time he was a street sweeper; and +then, during a strike, a good many years ago, he went into the Stove +Works and learned the moulder's trade. It's a good trade, Janet; the men +sometimes earn four dollars a day, pouring the hot iron into the sand. +My father earns that now----" + +She had listened to him raptly, the pale light white upon her lifted +face. + +"But John," she exclaimed, "your name--your name isn't foreign?" + +He laughed. + +"My name isn't 'Adams,'" he replied. + +"John!" + +"No," he went on--"but maybe my name is, too, after all. I should have +said 'perhaps.' My father's name is not. It is Adamowski----" He heard +her little quick in-taking of breath and looked away. + +"You have never heard of such things before, have you?" he asked. "But +it is a custom with Polish young men nowadays. Their names handicap them +in their work, in their advancement, so they often change them." + +"Yes, I understand," she murmured. + +"Well," he went on, "until I was ten years old I attended the parochial +school----" + +"John, you're not a _Catholic_!" she exclaimed. + +"No--you needn't be afraid of that either--I'm not--now," he answered. +"And then," he continued as calmly as before, "I was sent to the public +schools. It was the superintendent who wrote my name 'Adams.' He did it +perhaps by accident; anyway it has been my name ever since. Plain 'John +Adams.' I don't suppose I could make you understand the relation between +parents and an only son among my people, so I shan't try, but it is to +the son that the parents look for the fulfilment of all their happiest +hopes. That I should have been sent here to college is not so +surprising as you may consider it. I _was_ sent here. I was sent here by +my father who works in the sand of the moulding room; by my mother who, +to help, has for three years taken in washing; and by my little sister, +Pauline, who sits all day at a bench and tears the stems out of tobacco +leaves in a great, gray factory. They are the ones who have sent me here +to college--to study, to learn, to make something of myself----" + +Thus far to the girl, save for little moments when from the narrative +she had suffered twinges of pain, it was as though she were listening to +a story of one whom she knew not. She had been moved and strangely +thrilled at times and now leaning forward eagerly she exclaimed: + +"And you have made something of yourself; you have, John! Oh, don't you +see how brave you are--what you can _do_ with the education they have +given you; what you can accomplish for yourself, and so, for them?" + +He did not interrupt her but when she had done he looked down at her +pityingly and muttered, as though suffering an intense physical agony: +"Oh Janet! to hear you talk like that--to hear you say such things; to +feel you haven't understood." + +She looked away from him piqued, chagrined that she had erred. + +"I brave!" he went on, "_I_ brave? Do you think _I_ dare call myself +brave when I think of that little girl tearing stems out of tobacco +leaves until her fingers are stiff; when I think of my mother bent over +a tub, her face wreathed in steam--I can hear the smooth rasp of the wet +clothes now as she rubs them on the board? I _brave_ when I see my +father working in the awful heat of a moulding room--cooked alive--that +I may dawdle here and kick a leather ball about a field." He looked away +with a sneer. But the bitterness in his voice failed to move her. + +"Your education!" she exclaimed, tersely,--"you have that!" + +He laughed harshly. "Education! my education! What is it? There are my +people--my father a moulder, a good workman who sometimes is drunk, and, +so, a drunkard; my mother a wash-woman; my little sister a stripper in a +cigar factory. They have given me my education and in giving me it what +have they done? They have made me _hate_ them!" + +"John, John, you mustn't say that," she implored. + +"I must say it," he replied,--"for it's the truth. They have lifted me +above them. All the love I should have for them is gone, obliterated. My +feeling toward them is the feeling a man has for a dog that has helped +him, perhaps saved him from drowning. It is a feeling but it is not +love. I've known this a long time, Janet, but not till now have I known +what to do. There is my place, there beside them. Back in the little +home I should be ashamed to take you into. I have been educated away +from them; from my father, my mother, my little sister; yes," he added +with a virulent bitterness, "I have even been educated away from my +God." + +She placed her hand on his arm but she did not speak. + +"Educated even away from my God!" he repeated sadly. "They are +Catholics. I should be. I am not. And what has been given me in return? +Nothing; less than nothing; yes, something, for I have been given by +this 'education' that has been paid for by my sister's blood, my +mother's body, and my father's soul, the power to see my own false +position. I thank heaven for that! O, don't remonstrate," he said, as +she leaned toward him as though to speak. "I understand. From the high +plane of your view the picture is not the same. I am closer to it. I see +the fault of the method, the absurdity of the thing, the miserable +falsity of the conception. You cannot understand, Janet. It is because I +have known you could not, that I have not told you till now." + +"But, John, dear," she murmured tenderly, pityingly, "I _do_ +understand." + +"No," he contradicted, gently, "you don't; you can't; it is not _for_ +you to understand." + +He stood up, and looking down at her where she sat, smiled sadly. The +bell in the tower of the library rang out upon the stillness, six +times--tang--ting--tang--ting--tang--ting! + +"But perhaps you can feel a little as I feel and know something of how I +have felt for weeks. I shall go back to-morrow." There was no drama in +the declaration. It was uttered calmly. + +The girl stood up now suddenly and leaned toward him. + +"What do you mean?" she asked, "you're not really going--going +back--there?" + +"Yes," he said. "I'm going back. I am going to try to find what has been +stolen from me. I am going to try to rid myself of my unrest; to undo +for myself the wrong that all unconsciously has been done me, by hands +that have hit me when they only meant to be gentle. I'm going back, +Janet, to work in the moulding-room beside my father." + +She stared into his face, in mute wonder. + +"And give up your course, John? _Now!_" she cried, as the full force of +his determination dawned upon her. + +"I am going to give up the false that has been thrust upon me, for the +good that I have flung away," he answered. "I shall work until I have +paid back all my mother's money and my father's money, and my little +sister's money. Would to God I could pay them for the aching backs, the +stiff fingers, and the tortured souls. I shall try. And if when I have +tried, I find that, after all, it has been of no avail, that these debts +can never be paid, perhaps I shall come back. Good-bye." + +He held out his hand. He felt hers cold in his palm. + +"Will you forgive me?" he asked simply,--"I should not have--I should +not have cared for you. It was wrong. Forgive me----" + +"There is nothing to forgive," she said, quite firmly. He drew away his +hand then and hers fell limp at her side. + +She stood motionless and watched his figure as it swung up the street. + +Her heart bade her lips call out to him. But the million voices of the +night bade her heart be still. And then, even as she watched, where he +was, there was he not, but only blackness. + + + + +THE OLD PROFESSOR + +(_A Portrait_) + + +I + +Generally he was to be found in one of the galleries of the library, +surrounded by tiers on tiers of books that formed for him a veritable +barricade of erudition. Or it was as though he sat at the bottom of a +well the bricks of which were the solid thoughts of men, themselves gone +these many, many years. But there he would sit hour after hour and read, +read, read, by the ragged light that filtered down upon him through the +unscrubbed glass above. Always he was the first person the librarian met +on the broad stone steps when he came over in the morning with his huge +key to unlock the great, thick door and throw the building open for +another day. + +"Good-morning, sir," the old professor would say, in his dry, thin, +little voice, and bow stiffly. + +"'Morning," the librarian would respond, not so gruffly as +characteristically, and bustle away. + +Then, on tiptoe, the old professor would pass the swinging doors of +baize and silently mount the gray iron stairs to the narrow galleries of +the book-room where the life of his waking hours was lived among his +unresponsive loves. + +For he did love them, his books, whose friendship did not suffer change +be the day gay or gray, and with them all about him--he the centre of +the chaos of wisdom--he was happy. Among them he lived his simple life +in sweet companionship and was joyous for the privilege, for without the +books darkness would be his, whilst in them was light for his dim eyes +and solace for his gently beating heart. So, day in, day out, in +sunshine and in rain, in cold and snow and warmth, the old professor +mounted, silently, the gray iron stairs in the childhood of the day, to +come down again, as silently, when the lights were extinguished one by +one and the broad campus without was wrapped in melancholy black. + +Once he had been young. But that was in the day of hard work, when youth +toiled to live. Then no lad was more sprightly than he. His early home +was a long, low, rambling farmhouse in a southern state, where the +flowers came early in the spring and bloomed and bloomed again late into +autumn. There, to him, imaginative, dreaming, for all his boyish +activity, the life out-of-doors was little less than participation in a +splendid pageant--the Pageant of Summer. + +On the farm adjoining lived another boy and together they builded +air-castles and procrastinated through the long, still evenings, when +the work of the day was done. And of such sort were the castles that +they lived in them, even as they worked afield, and sowed, and reaped, +and sowed again. + +Of all their dreams one was fairer than the others. It was of a college +in the north where boys might go, and, once there, might learn the finer +things. One day they resolved to make their goal that college. They +toiled longer each day, then, until the red sun slipped below the +wood-line to the west, and when the summer died they fared forth +together. + +Side by side they sat at lectures and at recitations. They lived +together in a little room across the river where rooms were more cheaply +to be had and where landladies were more accommodating and framed no +loud objections to simple cooking on a smoky oil stove. Halcyon days +those were to the lads, and the very experience of poverty whetted their +appetites for the luxuries they dreamed one day would be for them. + +Together they had from the hands of the president their diplomas, +squares of sheepskin all written over in stately Latin--the golden +fleece of their heroic quest. + +He who later was to be the old professor, became the young professor +then; and the friend of the four years in the little room across the +river, where simple cooking was permitted, went away, nor ever came back +again. + +So near had been their lives that for a time the young professor was +sad. A portrait on tin was all he had to recall the face of him who was +gone, and frequently, of a Sunday afternoon which was set apart for a +walk afield, he would seat himself beside the river and with the little +portrait on his knee indulge in retrospections of the by-gone days when +they were lads together on adjoining farms. Such fragrant reveries +constituted the leaven needed in the young professor's life, for in the +University circle he was much sought. He was a brilliant man; his ideas +were "advanced" then, original and new. His conversation at dinner was +sprightly, vivacious. He had the gallantry of generations of Southern +gentlemen and was beloved of all the ladies. He was wont on occasion to +pass the compliment with an almost Italian grace and he rejoiced in the +tap of the fan upon his wrist which was his feminine reward. + +"You must not fail us," a hostess would say, "you know Professor ---- +will be here; such a brilliant man; such charming manners." + +And the bidden guest would promise straightway, whilst the hostess would +turn back from the door with a sigh, betokening, perhaps, a discontent +that her Henry had not the graces of Professor ----. Then the children +would cry to her from the nursery and she would forget---- + +Or-- + +"That is Professor ----," a fellow academician would say to a stranger +on the campus as the erect, lithe-limbed young man veered round a +corner. "A pillar, sir, a pillar of the institution. The making of a +great man, a great man, sir." + +But all this was long before the advent of the old professor, long +before the day when people ceased to seek him out, to fawn before his +talent, and to cherish in memory the brilliant phrases that he was so +apt in making. For when that day came he was no more noticed in his +passage to and fro across the campus than one of the rats that were wont +to scamper from building to building in the dead hours of the night. + +The transition from the young professor to the old professor was not +sudden, but stealthily gradual. He loved the past, its doctrines and its +methods. What had been _his_ youth should be, he thought, the youth for +all time, and he never knew his error. Little by little, year by year, +he became less often the honored guest at a faculty dinner. He clung to +the manners of his youth and the younger wives called him an old fogey +and smiled when his name was mentioned. + +Thus it continued until he became a mere ghost of dead days, an +occasional, living reminder of an ancient system of education or method +of class-room work long since relegated to that dusty storehouse where +are heaped "old things" that have served their usefulness, flung aside +to make room for _papier maché_ manikins and varnished maps of +pasteboard with the mountains raised to scale and the winding streams +indented. + +And yet in the official circle of the institution there lingered a +certain reverence for the old professor. His sweetness of character, his +gentleness of spirit, his humility, made it a sad duty to point the way +to him; and so, from month to month, the president's request for his +resignation was delayed, and then there occurred a little incident that +secured for him, unknowing, another period of service. + +The trembling country awaited application of the torch of war. In the +college town a meeting was called and the citizenry swarmed into a +church where the president of the University was to deliver an address. + +On a bench at the front sat the old professor, his face uplifted, drawn +with the pain that tore his gentle heart, for the South he loved was +proving its disloyalty to the Union that he worshipped. + +Through the open windows came a breeze of gentle April that moved the +old professor's hair, and he lifted a trembling hand to his high smooth +forehead. + +Even as the president spoke there was heard a cry in the street that +caused the faces of strong men to pale and their eyes to start. + +"_Sumpter has been fired upon!_" + +And at the cry right triumphed over wrong in the old professor's +throbbing heart. Getting unsteadily upon his feet he raised his hand. + +"Silence!" he called, and then, in the hush, he added, his voice +trembling, + +"I move that this meeting adjourn at once to Court House Square!" + +A cheer was raised, and in the wake of the procession that was formed +upon the instant the old professor marched--his head bowed, his eyes +wet--to the open place where the speeches, now ablaze, with patriotic +fervor, were resumed. + +There were those who knew and somewhat understood what it had meant to +the old professor to move that adjournment and when they spoke of him +among themselves for many days thereafter it was with a little tremor of +the voice and a certain mistiness of the eyes. And for three years he +lived among them uncomplaining though stricken to the soul. + + +II + +But the weeks became months and the months gathered into years, and +after many years even the old professor himself forgot the incident save +at such times as the appearance of a man in uniform recalled it to him. +At such times he was wont to close his book--his long slim finger +marking the place--and let it fall upon his knee, whilst his mind +galloped back across the desert of the years to hover an instant about +the past's neglected grave. + +Perhaps some ray of humor would creep in and part the clouds and the old +professor's smile would reflect the glint of sunshine deeper in his +heart. Then he would shake his head and sigh and open the book again, +following the lines as he read, with that long, slim forefinger. + +"A dream--a dream," he would murmur and forget. + +And for a long time the memories of the dead days would sleep in his +quiet mind. + +He dwelt in peace in the midst of an active warring world; the peace +that is the man's who feels that he has done his part, his little share, +in making his world better. He knew his work was ended, that his time +for rest had come, and knowing this he was satisfied to creep +noiselessly and unnoticed into a dingy, unfrequented corner and there, +with a book or two, a ream of pure white paper and a pen, to spend the +time allowed him in the sweet society of his books. + +Unhappy, you ask, this frail old man into whose thick hair the years had +sprinkled many snowflakes? + +All about him there was none happier. + +Had you asked _him_, he would have said, no doubt, with that pale little +smile of his: + +"I have my books. I live well. I have my room. I have my bed. I have my +meals--and some of them I prepare myself. And I have a friend. Could a +man ask more? As I grow older I find myself agreeing more and more with +David Thoreau, who, you will remember, once said, as he passed a tool +box standing beside a railway, that he could not understand why a man +should want a better home than such a box would make." + +And he would laugh with himself at the philosophic quip. + +His friend in his later years was another old man; not a scholar, but a +man who had worked hard and lived hard, and at sunset took his rest. He +too, had many graces. + +On Sunday afternoons whenever the weather would permit the old professor +sought him out and they walked afield, or by the river where the old +professor had loved to wander as a boy. If their path were barricaded by +a turnstile it always meant a lengthy parley as to whom should cross it +first. + +"After you, my friend," the old professor would say, bowing low. + +Lifting a protesting hand, "No," the other would respond, "after you." + +"I insist," the old professor would contend. + +The other would indicate the turnstile with a gesture. "You first," he +would repeat. + +And so they would stand there bowing, insisting, until, neither seeing +fit to give way, they would retrace their steps and seek a path that had +no turnstile. + +But once, filled with zeal to explore the wood beyond a certain stile, +an ingenious plan occurred to the old professor which was immediately +carried to a successful issue. Both clambered over the fence at one +side of the opening and proceeded on their way. + +And for a long time after each held the incident as a joke against the +other. + +The conversation of the friends on such occasions was of the life that +lay before them, serious; never of the past. And they agreed in their +philosophy at all points. They never argued. + +"Well, friend," the old professor said one day, "when the time comes for +us to go I hope we may go together--may continue our walk." + +"I hope we may," the other answered. + +"I have always thought," the old professor added with a twinkle in his +eyes, "that there must be many a pleasant walk in heaven--after one has +left the pavement." + + +III + +Alike as they were, there was one joy that now and then came into the +old professor's life that the other could not share. + +It came to him when, at widely separated intervals, there crossed his +path a man with hair almost as white as his own, who in the days long +gone had sat before him on the benches of the class-room as a student, +and absorbed his wider wisdom. When such an one he met, the old +professor's voice always caught in his throat and he sought to cover +the confusion that he suffered by a closer pressure of his hand. Then, +the emotion passing, something of the old light would flame up in his +eyes. + +He would step back and exclaim: "Well! well! well!" Then the memories +would surge back into his mind and he would gaze abstractedly without +speaking. + +"You remember me?" the other old fellow would ask, gaily. + +"_Remember_ you!" the old professor would exclaim and nudge him, +playfully. "Remember _you_? Well, well, I guess I couldn't _forget_ you +if I tried! Why you were the scamp that tied the white mule to my +desk-leg and left him there over night so I should be greeted by his +bray when I entered the room in the morning! Remember _you_! Ha! ha! +I've been waiting all these years to get at you!" + +Then he would stride upon the white haired "grad" with hand raised, +ominously, but with the merry twinkle still lighting up his eyes; whilst +the victim would quail mockingly, with a brighter twinkle in his own. + +The old professor was known often to have kissed gray haired boys when +they met on alumni day. + +"I have always called you the mule-pupil," he would continue as, arm in +arm they strolled back and forth along the broad main corridor. + +"And do you remember what you said to the class when you found that mule +at your desk, in the morning?" the scamp would ask, with a chuckle, +perhaps. + +"No, what?" + +"Ah, I remember it as though it were yesterday; how you came bustling +into the room. You saw the mule. We were all boiling inside. You did not +scowl. You did not rant. You did not call down upon our heads the +venging hand of a just heaven. You just turned to us as calm as you are +now...." + +The old professor would gurgle here, with rare delight. + +" ... and said, 'young gentlemen, I perceive that you have already been +provided with an instructor quite competent to teach you all you will +ever be able to learn!' And then you walked out of the room with a +polite 'good-morning.'" + +Here the former student would roar with laughter. + +"You don't tell me," the old professor would exclaim. "You don't tell me +I said _that_! Well, well, well; that _was_ rather hard on you boys, +wasn't it? I'd forgotten all about it. I--I just remembered the +_mule_!" + +"And do you recall," the man who was a boy, again would ask, "how you +found all the wood from the big wood-box in the south-wing corridor +piled against your door?" + +The old professor would wrinkle his forehead here and stare thoughtfully +at the floor. + +"No, I don't seem to recollect," he would say. + +"Well you _did_; we boys had piled it there, of course. Must have been a +cord at least. Then we hung around to see what you would do." + +"And what _did_ I do?" + +"You began to remove the pile, stick by stick, and to pack them all away +in the great wood-box." + +Here the old professor was always wont to shake with silent laughter. + +"Well, we stood it as long as we could, and then Billy Green--you +remember Billy Green; poor Billy, he was killed at Gettysburg. Billy +went up to you, as brave as you please, and said: 'Professor, I don't +know who _piled_ this wood against your door but _un-piling_ it is no +work for you.' And then he shouted to us, 'come on, boys,' and we fell +to and got the wood away from that door in about two jerks of a lamb's +tail. But didn't we feel small! Professor, why didn't you have a few of +us fired bodily?" + +"Oh, no, no, my friend," the old professor would perhaps exclaim, +quickly. "Expel a boy for being a boy! It is not for you or me, dear +sir, to seek to improve upon the handiwork of God!" + +And there would ensue another laugh, and many more in the three days to +follow, and then commencement would be over and the old student would go +back to Kansas City and the old professor to his books. + +But for more than three days a subtle effect of the meeting would remain +with him. For many days he would carry his head a bit higher. A color +flush would show upon his hollow cheeks; his step would take on an +unaccustomed elasticity. For a discriminating Fate had touched to the +old professor's lips the cup of life and he had sipped of the contents, +and another year was his. + + +IV + +I remember him best as I saw him first. It was in the late afternoon of +a golden day in mid-October. A companion pointed him out to me as we +approached the ivy-green library. He was coming slowly down the steps, +one arm encircling a great bundle of books, one hand fumbling at his +neck scarf. The clothes he wore were of another day. The coat was +full-skirted, long, and bulging at the breast. About his thin throat was +twisted a black silk stock, frayed and rusty, over which the loose and +unstarched collar rolled. On his broad-toed shoes his baggy trousers +fell in folds. There was a seeming rigidity to the creases that induced +the thought they must have been so always; like the wrinkles in the +wrappings of a mummy. And yet, infinitely pathetic as the picture was, I +knew that such a coat, such a stock, even such a round crowned, broad +brimmed soft hat as that he wore, once had made the old professor a man +of fashion--a quarter of a century before. + +"That's the oldest professor on the campus," my companion said. "In +college? No. He hasn't taught a class for twenty years. He was an old +fogey and they removed him, I'm told, to make room for a younger man. +He's only waiting for the end now. Every one says he'd give five years +to get back on the faculty. You'll usually find him near the library, +either just going in or just coming out. He hides himself all day among +the books. The fellows call him 'The Ghost.' I've been told he saved a +little from his salary every quarter and that now he lives in a little +back room somewhere near the campus and cooks his own meals." + +And whenever after that I saw him it was this last phrase that recurred +to me with almost painful insistency ... "lives in a little back room +somewhere ... and cooks his own meals." + +It was hard for youth to realize that such could be humanity's reward to +a man who had given a life of patience, forebearance, toil, and +sacrifice, to make his little world the better for his having lived +within it. + +We stood apart and watched him as he came slowly down the broad, stone +steps. At the last he stopped and looked up at the sky. We saw his face +more clearly then. It was thin, pale, drawn about the mouth, but the +eyes were infinitely tender. His lips trembled and seemed to form words +that were not uttered. Then he walked on. Twice, before he turned the +corner of the ivy-covered wall, he raised a hand to his face and passed +the dangling finger-tips of his black cloth glove across his eyes. + +That slow walk home beneath the canopy the painted maples made marked +the ending of another day in the old professor's fading life; a day such +as days had been for twenty years, a space of time in which a smile had +flitted to his lips, a tear had risen, and he had held the book a +little closer to his eyes. + + +It was not long thereafter that we learned the end had come. They found +him in his chair, a book upon his knee, his slim forefinger marking the +page where he had left off reading to close his eyes and dream. The pale +ghost of a smile still lingered about his mouth. + +Some one, gentler than the rest, placed a single rose in the cold hand, +and a scant company followed the slow hearse to the cemetery. + +No one wept. Perhaps no one even felt a sadness, standing there beside +the open grave. Yet he would not have wished it otherwise. They covered +him for the long, long sleep, and went away. + +And now, on a day in June, when the air is heavy with the fragrance of +the green and growing things and the grasses are alive with singing +creatures, the breeze that stirs alike the tall tree-tops and the tender +shoots of grain seems to whisper above the lonely grave, unmarked in +that great City of the Dead: "Sleep on; thy work is done; done well. +Thou shalt be rewarded." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ann Arbor Tales, by Karl Edwin Harriman + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41816 *** |