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diff --git a/41816-8.txt b/41816-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 428ade7..0000000 --- a/41816-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8220 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ann Arbor Tales, by Karl Edwin Harriman - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Ann Arbor Tales - -Author: Karl Edwin Harriman - -Release Date: January 10, 2013 [EBook #41816] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANN ARBOR TALES *** - - - - -Produced by sp1nd, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -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 THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANN ARBOR TALES *** - -***** This file should be named 41816-8.txt or 41816-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/1/8/1/41816/ - -Produced by sp1nd, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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