CHAPTER XVIII--THE CONSCIENCE OF PRETTYMAN SWEET
Prettyman Sweet would never have played such a contemptible trick onBobby Hargrew and her comrades had he not been goaded to it by LilyPendleton. Purt had what the girls called "a dreadful crush" on Lily,and she had made fun of him because he took Bobby's jokes so tamely.
"If you had a spark of pluck you'd get square with that Hargrew girl,"Lily Pendleton had told him, and Purt thought that he was getting squarewith Bobby and her friends when he turned the key in the lock at thefoot of the tower stairs.
At first as he ran out of the school building into the rain that wasstill falling a little, his only fear was that he had been seen bysomebody. But once away from the school building he began to giggle overthe joke he had played on the girls.
"They won't laugh at me so much next time," he thought.
And then he remembered, with something of a shock, that he could notafford to tell anybody about what he had done. If he owned up to havinglocked the girls into the tower, he knew very well what would happen tohim.
If Chet Belding, or Lance Darby, did not get hold of him, one of theother boys would most certainly take him to task for the trick. And PurtSweet was no fighter.
He wouldn't get much fun out of the trick he had played on the girls,after all! Now he wished he had not done it. What was the fun, when hehad to keep it a secret?
So Purt continued on this way home with lagging feet. And every yard,the possibilities that might follow his trick grew plainer in his mind.He saw, as he went on, that instead of having done something to create alaugh, he might have been guilty of an act that would start a whole lot'of trouble.
He knew, as well as did the girls shut up in the tower, that old John,the janitor, would go home to supper soon. And at this time of year,when there were no fires to see to, except the hot water heater, the oldman might not come back at all.
For, as far as Purt knew, there were no meetings in the building thatevening. At least, he had heard none announced. The girls were likely tobe left in the tower until the next day, while their friends weresearching the city for them.
Purt went into the square, from which point he could gaze up at thetower. But it was so far away, and so tall, that he could see nothing atthe narrow slits of windows up there at the top.
"If--if those girls waved a handkerchief out of the openings, nobodycould see it down here," thought the conscience-stricken youth.
He had never been up in the tower himself, for it was forbiddenterritory. So he did not know how wide the windows were. It just struckhome to Master Purt Sweet that the girls would be unable to signal theirsituation to anybody.
But he had reached home before these thoughts so troubled him that hefelt as though he _must_ undo what he had done. Perhaps John had notgone home yet. He might still be able to get into the building, creepupstairs, unlock the door of the tower, and then run out before thegirls could catch and identify him.
For Purt had a very strong desire not to be suspected in this matter.Chet Belding would take up cudgels for his sister in a minute; and Chetwould, Purt was sure, thrash him most soundly!
Any of the teachers would have a pass-key to the building. Purtremembered that fact, too. Could he prevail upon one of them to lend hima key so that he could go into the building? Of course, he must havesome good excuse, and he feared to appear before Professor Dimp with anysuch request unless he could back it with sound reason. And Mr. Sharpwas entirely out of the question. Purt knew that the principal ofCentral. High would see right through him instantly.
As for the lady teachers, Purt was more afraid of them than of Mr. Dimpand the principal. As it grew dark the boy sat cowering in his room athome, from the window of which he could see dimly the outlines of theschoolhouse tower, and he wept a few tears.
He would have given a good deal had he not turned the key in that lock!
Purt didn't feel that he could appear at the dinner table; so he gave anexcuse to his mother's maid, and went out again. Perhaps somebody haddiscovered the girls up in the tower and released them. He walked upWhiffle Street and saw Chet Belding hanging over the front gate.
"Hullo, Purt!" exclaimed the big fellow. "What's doing?"
"No--nothing," stammered Purt.
"Well, don't be so scared about it. What's got you now?"
"No--nothing," stammered Purt again.
"Haven't seen Lance, have you?"
"No."
"Nor the girls?"
The question scared Purt Sweet through and through. But he plucked upcourage to ask:
"How should I know anything about them? Hasn't your sister come homeyet?"
"No. Down to that gym., I expect. Say, these girls are gettingaltogether too athletic. Didn't see Jess, either, did you?"
Purt shook his head and went on. He was afraid to stop longer withChet--afraid that the latter would learn something about what he haddone. It did seem to the culprit as though knowledge of the trick playedon Laura Belding and her friends stuck out all over him.
It was deep dusk now. Purt came within a block of the school buildingand looked slily about the corners, as though he were bent on mischief,instead of desirous of undoing the mischief he had already done.
Had old John gone home yet? Would all the lower doors of Central High belocked? These were the questions that puzzled him.
Purt ran into the side gate of the boys' recreation ground and fumbledat the basement door, by which he knew the janitor usually left. It waslocked; yet, as he rattled the knob, he thought he heard an answeringsound within.
He scuttled away to the corner and there waited to watch the door.Nobody came out.
After half a minute of uncertainty the lad crept on to the boys'entrance. The outside doors were closed and locked. He ran around to thestreet and entered the girls' yard. The outer vestibule door was openedhere and he ventured in, creeping along in the darkness and fumbling forthe doorknob.
And just then Purt Sweet got the scare of his life. A strong handclasped his wrist and a sharp voice demanded:
"What do you want here? Are you waiting for those girls, too?"
"Oh, dear me!" gasped Prettyman Sweet, his knees trembling. "_Now_ I'min a fix, sure enough!"
The Girls of Central High on Track and Field Page 18