CHAPTER IX
AN ENDING
“Well, Sandy,” said the Doctor to his head prefect the next morning,as he waved the embarrassed Maclaren to a comfortable chair, himselfstanding with his back to the fire, “I am afraid I have been nearmaking a very bad mistake.” And he related in a few words, withoutinvolving Carroll, the revelation that had been made to him the nightbefore.
“I see, sir,” said Sandy. “I suppose of course, sir, that you can’tgive me the name of your informant. I should like to do a littleinvestigating on my own responsibility.”
“No, I can’t,” responded the Head decisively. “And for some reasons Iam sorry; but it was such a manly and unselfish course for the boy totake, that I freely forgave him and promised him immunity. So far as heis concerned, I have no doubt that is the best course. But there areothers—the ringleaders, I suspect. I want the investigation made, ofcourse, if you can do it without acting on mere suspicion. If you canget me evidence in a straightforward way, I shall act on it. Just now,I wish you would find Deering and ask him to come in here to see me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Maclaren took his leave then, and the Head Master turned to his morningmail.
Within fifteen minutes Tony stood before him. He had not slept welland the strain through which he had been passing had told on hisappearance—his freshness was dulled, there were circles under hiseyes, his usually eager manner was unwontedly quiet and subdued.
The Head put the matter very briefly and frankly. “The evidence seemedvery strong against you, my boy,” he concluded; “though I will say injustice to you that even when things looked darkest I never ceased tobelieve in you. I felt the difficulty, but I saw no way out but to pushthings on.”
“I understand, sir,” Tony replied. The weight was off his heart now,but he was still a little constrained and self-conscious. He wasthinking how much he would like to say many things to Reggie andwondering if he could say them when the opportunity came.
“I must say, taking it all in all,” resumed the Doctor, “that heredityseems to demonstrate itself afresh in your case with unusual force.You remind me uncommonly of your grandfather. There was an affair atKingsbridge in his sophomore year—a piece of brutal hazing. It wasrather bad, you know, in our day. But Basil had had absolutely nothingto do with it. He was captured by the proctors under suspicious thoughin reality perfectly innocent circumstances, and to save a guiltyfriend, he maintained a stubborn silence to the verge of expulsion. Thefriend’s confession at last saved him also.”
Tony smiled. “That’s like my grandfather, certainly.”
“I admire the trait, you know,” continued Doctor Forester, “but I thinkthere are limits to its indulgence. There is a point, as a boy seldomcan realize, at which the authorities must probe very much as thelaw probes, with a fine disregard for personal feelings. Things thatdeeply concern the moral welfare of the boys here I must sometimes beinquisitorial about in a way that I little like. I think it well tosuffer for a friend, but not to the extent of permitting untruth toestablish itself in the minds of those who after all are responsiblefor your welfare.”
“I am afraid, sir, I don’t know where to draw the line.”
“No, my boy, I am afraid you do not.”
“I think it was pretty fine of Carroll to come to you, sir,” venturedTony upon this.
“Yes, yes, so do I. But I think also that it would have been uncommonlymean if he had not. I have forgiven Reginald, partly because of hisconfession, partly too because I feel quite confident that he is notthe ringleader, that he too has been to some extent a victim. I am notquite sure that he altogether deserves the immunity I have promisedhim—the complete immunity was a concession to you.”
“To me, sir?”
“Yes——”
“I don’t see how, sir?”
“No? Well, perhaps some time you will. You may go now. I am sorry forwhat has occurred; sorry to have felt it my duty to accuse you, toprobe your replies. You will consider yourself, however, gated untilfurther notice, and so will your friends, Wilson and Lawrence. I do notpropose to overlook your breaking bounds at midnight. If that happensagain, look out for more serious trouble.”
“Thank you, sir.”
They shook hands then, and Tony left.
How, how, mused the Head, as he looked after the boy, was one to putpressure upon the keenness of that sense of honor; and should one,if one could? Sometimes even a head master realizes that there arelimits to his wisdom. One of the indications that the limits of DoctorForester’s wisdom were less restricted than is often the case was thesincerity with which he frequently questioned his own actions.
After dinner Tony found his cronies waiting in the quadrangle back ofthe Old School for a report on his interview with the Head. He informedthem briefly of the fact that he had been cleared and discharged on theseveral items of the accusations, but also of the penalty of gatingthat had been imposed upon the trio.
“Well, that’s all very nice and jolly,” said Kit, as the three sat andkicked their heels against a bench outside their form common-room, “andreally not much of a soak for the provocation we undoubtedly gave ‘em.I only hoped in the old gentleman’s excitement about the shanty thathe’d forget our minor sins. Not he! But, on the other hand, consideringthat they spoiled the best part of the lark and insulted you uncommonlyby supposing all manner of rotten immoral things, I’m equally torn asto whether it’s not an awful roast and with wondering how we get offat all, at all.”
“Say, kiddo, you are all tangled up,” said Tony, feeling Kit’s head forindications of unsuspected abnormalities.
“I am, I confess it,” that youth blandly responded. “Kindly informJim and me, who’ve been unfeelingly omitted from these interestinginterviews, who was the victim that went so willingly to the sacrifice?”
“Well,” interrupted Jimmie, “not Arty Chapin—”
“No, Chapin’s a bounder.”
“Not Hen Marsh.”
“No, Hen’s a shadow of Arty’s, and a poor measly sort of shadow atthat.”
“Nor Buster Thorndyke.”
“Rather not,” assented Kit; “Buster’s just plain garden variety of nogood.”
“Well, there are other candidates, of course, for the honor; but thoughnameless I guess we can count on them failing to qualify—all of whichrather narrows the possibilities to Reginald Carter Westover Carroll.”
“Now look here!” exclaimed Tony. “It’s to Reggie’s credit or I wouldn’tadmit it. Reggie’s a peach. I can’t stand for a word against him. He’smade everything all right.”
“Oh, Reggie’s all right,” admitted Kit soothingly. “Reggie is certainlyall right. Haven’t I always said so? Haven’t I deplored from the verybeginning that he was in with such a crowd of bounders. This onlyproves that he’s too good for them. I only hope,” he added, with mockgravity, “that this will have taught him a lesson and that in thefuture he will model himself upon us.”
Upon this Tony turned and with a powerful swing of his left arm sweptKit out off the bench onto the snow. But Wilson, in his sudden descent,reached out instinctively, grabbed Tony by an arm and a leg, and pulledhim down on top of him. Jimmie joyously fell on the heap. For severalblissful moments there was wonderful rough-house. Tony emerged at last,sent Jimmie sprawling, and established himself for a brief triumphantmoment on Kit’s stomach.
“Swear you’ll never tell any of it, or I’ll stuff your mouth full ofdirty snow. Swear!”
“I swear,” yelled Kit. “Let me up, you white trash! Jim, to the rescue!”
But Tony was up and at bay, and by whirlwind sparring was keepingJimmie at his distance. Kit was ludicrously slow, and had a bad thumpon his knee, which he rubbed ruefully as he arose with exaggerateddignity.
“Cut it,” he bellowed. “Come on, do let’s crawl back in the sun and benice and quiet and comfy again.”
The other two quickly desisted and helped the wounded warrior to hisseat. “I’m sorry, kid,” beg
an Tony. “Didn’t mean to hurt you. Does ithurt _so_ much, old man?” he added, teasingly.
Kit could not resist, but lumbered forward, despite the thumped knee,and fell afresh on the light-footed Deering.
“Keep off, Jim!” yelled Tony, and again they went crashing to theground. “He has got to eat that nice clean white snow.”
“No—! I swear,” protested Kit. But they were in for it, and withJimmie standing by, after a few moments of furious wrestling, bothfed the other handfuls of snow, until exhausted with laughter and theeffort, they lay supine and called on Lawrence piteously to help themup.
“I’m off,” said Jimmie, “call-over bell is ringing, and the Gumshoe’son deck.”
“Oh, hang, oh hang the Gumshoe,” pleaded Kit.
They picked themselves up, cheeks glowing, eyes glistening, clothes andhair tossed.
“Such is life,” said Wilson, ostentatiously rubbing his knee.
At this moment Mr. Roylston emerged from the door of the Old Schooland was passing them on his way to the Gymnasium to hold call-over. Heglanced at their disheveled clothes and paused.
“Will you take our names, sir?” asked Lawrence.
“Hm—yes,” replied the master at length. “And may I ask, do you proposeto wallow for the rest of the afternoon in the dirt and snow?”
“Not much else to do, sir,” answered Kit ruefully, “we’re gated.”
“Ah!” murmured Mr. Roylston, not making the pretense of concealing hissatisfaction, “to whom is the credit of having awarded you with yourjust deserts? I may ask?”
“Certainly, sir,” responded Kit blithely, “the Head.”
“Ah, indeed. Well, I will note your names.” And with that he passedquickly on.
“Ain’t he the tender-hearted elder brother?” said Kit, with a notaltogether pleasant glance in the direction of the master’s retreatingfigure. “Well, I vote we play fox and geese and keep the amiableGumshoe chasin’ us through the houses. ‘Twill be our only means ofgetting exercise.”
And fox and geese it was, and Mr. Roylston and they had plenty ofexercise, and that night Deering and Lawrence and Wilson had a goodlong rest as they stood outside of Mr. Roylston’s study-door in HowardHouse until the clock struck twelve.
The gating, however, did not last many weeks, and before long ourfriends were back at their old haunts again.
Sandy Maclaren meanwhile was pursuing his investigation with both ardorand discretion. He felt certain of his victims, if he only had patienceto watch their doings carefully. Chapin and Marsh were in his house,so that he could note their absences up to lights without deliberatelyspying. After lights Sandy was at a loss, for he did not believe ingoing into a boy’s bedroom to see if he were there. Nor on the otherhand was it possible often to visit the shanty. However he gained anunexpected ally in his house master, Mr. Roylston. The doings at theshanty in Lovel’s Woods had come to that gentleman’s ears; he also hadhis suspicions; and he did not share Sandy’s scruples about quietlymaking sure half-an-hour after lights that none of his boys were out oftheir rooms.
He came one evening toward the end of the term to Maclaren’s studyabout half-past ten. Sandy was almost ready for bed. “Chapin and Marshare not in their rooms, Maclaren,” he said.
“What, sir?” exclaimed Sandy, starting to his feet, “how do you know,sir?”
“That is of no consequence. Chapin and Marsh are out of their rooms.”
“Do you know where they are, sir?”
“I have some reason to suspect that they are playing poker in thatwretched shanty in the Woods.”
“Oh, but we raided that, you know; took all their stuff,—if it wasthey.”
“Yes, but a clever criminal goes directly back to commit his crimesin the same place. After a little time he is nowhere so safe. Mostfools think lightning never strikes in the same place twice. I havesuspected them for some time, but I have not before been sure thatthey were missing. I am sorry to ask you to make a journey over to theWoods at this time of night, but I cannot well leave the House. Youwill probably find them, I think; in which case you will direct them toreport to me at once. I will wait up until your return.”
Poor Sandy began to pull on his clothes. He did not like the job,not merely because it was cold and dark, but because he would havepreferred to have received the information from another master. He wasnot adverse to catching Chapin and Marsh, if he was to catch them, buthe felt a little sorry for himself as well as them that it all had tocome on such a night. He routed out Larry Cummings to go with them,and they started on the dismal journey. After all, duty was duty, theyreflected; and if that gang could be broken up it would be a good thingfor the school.
It was nearly midnight when Sandy, Larry and their victims—Chapin,Thorndyke and Marsh—returned to Mr. Roylston’s study. The masterreceived them with a quiet satisfaction. It was a good, and thoughtSandy a little unkindly, an easy night’s work for him.
“You will all retire at once,” he said in grave judicial tones, “and inthe morning you will accompany me to the Rectory.”
It was a clear case for the Head Master on the morrow, though hesingularly failed to congratulate Mr. Roylston on the success of hisdetective work. He suspended judgment until he could talk with Mr.Morris about Reggie Carroll’s connection with the affair.
Morris, when the Head had sent for him, was convinced that Carrolldeserved the leniency; that there were chances for him in the schoolof making good that did not exist for Chapin, that were doubtful forThorndyke and Marsh. Carroll certainly had improved, markedly improved,since his confession. He had broken, Morris felt, with his old crowd.
“Besides,” he added, “as for Chapin there is an old score against himthat should perhaps weigh with you in your decision, Doctor Forester.”
“Yes?—what is that?”
Morris told the story of the Boxford game of the year before.
“Ah, I see,” said Doctor Forester, and he did see with an admirablelucidity. “And Deering held his tongue about that too?”
“About that too,” answered Morris.
“Unusual boy!”
“A very fine boy, sir.”
“Yes, a fine boy. Well, I think that settles it. After Chapin is gone Ishall tell the prefects the whole story, and I think perhaps it will bewell that the school should know it too, at least through them. We cantrust them to do justice to the football episode, anyway.”
“I agree with you, sir,—now; but for a long time I wanted to letthings take their course. It has been good for Deering. It has deepenedhis easy-going pleasant nature; or rather it has served to bring outthe deep things that are in his nature.”
“Yes, yes—that was right, I dare say. But that you have told me nowmakes my course perfectly clear. I am glad you have done so.”
Chapin was shortly summoned to the Rectory. He had a brief anduncomfortable interview with Doctor Forester, and an hour later heboarded a train bound for Coventry, and was heard of at Deal School nomore. Marsh and Thorndyke and one or two others were suspended for therest of the term, and after this house-cleaning the school settled downto its normal life.
One afternoon not long after these events Doctor Forester paused onthe terrace of the Old School and looked over the playing-fields. Thesnows had melted, the frost was out of the ground, it was one of thefirst warm days of the Spring shortly before the Easter vacation, andthe boys were playing ball for the first time, rushing the season asthey commonly do. Doctor Forester liked baseball, for it gave him lessanxiety than some other games.
Morris had joined him as he stood on the terrace in the pleasantsunlight. Morris was an Old Boy, and the Head had a special feeling forhim that for the most part he carefully concealed. He welcomed him nowwith a sympathetic nod.
Just below them a rod or so away Jimmie Lawrence and Tony Deering werepassing ball.
“Good to see the baseball starting, eh? Who are those two boys justbelow us? Deering and Lawrence? I am getting blind, I fancy. I wishDeering were as go
od a baseball player as he is a good football player.Oh, yes, I know you like the other game. Look, how quick he is! Ilike that. By the by, I have thought often of what you told me of hiskeeping his mouth shut about Chapin’s trick in the Boxford game. It waslike a Deering. His grandfather was just such a chivalrous fool—sucha good Christian, Morris! I like a boy like that here. He will dosomething. I wonder what?”
“Who knows, sir? We can count on him, I feel sure of that.”
“And that is much. One muses of these boys now and then—what thefuture has for them. Yes—you do, I know. I envy you sometimes knowingthem as you can and do. How much one wants to do for them, eh? ThatDeering, now—we must watch him. He will be worth while.”
“Yes, I think so. We shall see, sir, just how.”
“Yes, we shall see.” And still musing, the Doctor turned away.
Morris stayed on for a long time watching the boys on theplaying-fields.
The Head Master had turned as he was about to enter the Old School andglanced again at his younger colleague, and a smile of quiet affectionand satisfaction stole over his keen kindly face.
Deering of Deal; Or, The Spirit of the School Page 12