Left Half Harmon

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER II

  KIDNAPPED!

  "Well, our station's next," said Bob some forty minutes later. "Betterchange your mind, Harmon, and get off with us."

  Harmon answered his laugh and shook his head. "I'd like to, but I'mbooked up the line. Is Lakeville the next stop?"

  "Second after Alton," answered Joe as he lifted the suitcases fromthe rack and handed them to Bob. "Look us up when you come over withthe team some time. You'll find Newhall and me in Lykes and Proctorin Haylow." There was a warning blast from the locomotive and thetrain came slowly to a stop. The three Altonians shook hands withHarmon, taking, as it seemed, much time in the ceremony. Outside, onthe station platform, a score or more of boys were hurrying toward thecarriage stand. Bob had encumbered himself with Joe's bag and his ownand it was he who led the way to the door at last, Martin followingwith his suitcase and Joe still making his farewell to Harmon. Then thecry of "All aboard!" came and Joe gave Harmon's hand a final clasp,picked up the kit-bag and fled down the aisle.

  For a brief instant Harmon thought his sight had tricked him, but aswift glance showed that his bag was missing and in another instanthe was on his feet and calling to Joe. "Hold on there! that's mybag you've got!" he shouted. But Joe evidently didn't hear, for hewas through the door and down the steps before Harmon started afterhim. When Harmon reached the car platform Joe and his two companionswere fifty feet distant, seeking a conveyance. The train was stillmotionless, although, further back, a trainman was holding his handaloft. There was but one thing to do and Harmon did it. In an instanthe was pushing his way through the luggage-laden throng about thecarriages.

  "You've got my bag, Myers," he announced breathlessly as he laid handson it.

  Joe looked around in surprise, still holding tight to the bag. "Whatdid you say?" he asked blankly.

  Harmon tugged desperately. "My bag! Let go, will you? I'll lose mytrain!"

  Joe looked at the bag. "Well, what do you know?" he gasped. "By Jove,I _am_ sorry, Harmon! I thought it was mine! Who's got my bag? Here!"He thrust the bag at Harmon so energetically that the latter failed tograsp it. "Better hurry, old man! Your train's going!"

  "Thanks!" Harmon turned and started back. He would doubtlessly haveswung himself to the platform of the rear car had it not been for Bob'sawkwardness. Bob was terribly sorry and apologetic about it afterwards!Just as Harmon was free of the group, a clear path across the stationplatform before him, Bob stepped directly in front of him! Of courseyou know what happened then. Harmon dodged to the right and at the sameinstant Bob stepped to the left, which didn't better the situation theleast bit. Bob looked most embarrassed, and you could see that he feltjust like kicking himself. In fact, he assured them all afterwards thathe felt that way. But meanwhile he made the mistake of stepping back tothe right just as Harmon made a final despairing effort to get past himon that side, and again they collided!

  Harmon set his bag down then, smiled rather a sickly smile and watchedthe train become smaller and smaller in the distance. Bob fairlyrevelled in self-reproach and abjected himself to such an extentthat a heart of stone would have been moved to forgiveness. And asHarmon's heart wasn't made of any such material he gave his attentionto assuring Bob that it didn't really matter. Joe and Martin were mostregretful, and Joe tried to take all the blame. But Bob wouldn't allowthat.

  "No, if I hadn't got in the way, like a blamed idiot, he'd have got itall right," he insisted. "You see, I thought he was coming over hereand so I stepped over there--like this--and he came the other way and Itried to side-step him and--"

  "It doesn't matter a bit," Harmon assured them, smiling quitecheerfully now. "There'll be another train pretty soon."

  "That's so!" Evidently the idea hadn't occurred to Bob before and hewelcomed it with enthusiasm. "Sure, there's a train about six o'clock,fellows!"

  "Well, that's nearly two hours," said Joe. "Let's put our bags insideand find some seats. No use standing up all that time."

  "Oh, but you chaps needn't wait around," declared Harmon. "I wouldn'tthink of having you do that!"

  The three looked at each other inquiringly. Then: "Can't let you waitaround here all alone," said Joe decidedly; "not after making you loseyour train like that. Bob, you and Martin go on up and take my bagwith you, and I'll stay here."

  "Why not all go up?" asked Martin. "Harmon's got nearly two hours towait. He might as well come along and be comfortable."

  "That's the ticket!" exclaimed Bob. "Leave your bag here and ride up toschool with us, Harmon. We'll show you around a bit and then we'll goup to my room or Joe's and rest until about a quarter of an hour beforeyour train goes. And I'll ride back with you!"

  Harmon hesitated. "That's very nice of you," he said warmly, "but Iwouldn't want to miss another one. Maybe I'd better just sit in thestation and--"

  "You'd die of the heat down here in this hole," said Joe. "Come on!We'll find out when the train is due, leave your bag with the agent andbeat it."

  Harmon allowed himself to be persuaded. After all, it was decidedlywarm there at the station, and an hour and fifty-one minutes--whichwas what the agent made it--would be a long time to wait. And Joeinsisted on waiting with him, too, and that was the strongest argumentpresented, for Joe and his friends had treated him mighty nicelyand Harmon felt that it would be a pretty low piece of business tomake any of them suffer. So off they all went presently in one ofthe tumble-down, creaky carriages that still competed with the fewtaxi-cabs at Alton, and Harmon proved himself a thoroughly good sportby appearing to forget the regrettable incident and displaying muchinterest in the town and, finally, the school.

  The others pointed out all points of interest on the way: theCongregational Church that had the tallest steeple in New England--noneof them could remember the exact figures, however--the Town Halland Library, the rival motion picture theaters, the Common with thestatue of Nathan Hale in the center--at least Bob and Martin thoughtit was Nathan Hale and Joe was stoutly of the opinion that it wasLafayette--the ornate residence of Alton's richest and most influentialcitizen, a brownstone monstrosity almost entirely surrounded byconservatories from which a very few sun-baked ferns and palms peeredforth, and so on to the school entrance on Academy Street.

  "On the left," proclaimed Bob from the front seat, forming a megaphoneof his hands, "the modest dwelling is the Principal's residence. Behindit--you can see it now--is Haylow Hall. Next on the right you seeLykes, especially interesting as the home of Mr. Robert Newhall, oneof Alton's most prominent undergraduates. In the center of the row isAcademy Hall. Directly back of it, if you look quick, you will discernLawrence Hall. Lawrence is the most popular of all the buildings. Itcontains the dining hall. Further to the right is Upton, and thenBorden. Behind Borden is the Carey Gymnasium. The building by itself atthe further end of the Green is Memorial Hall. We are now entering theschool grounds. Let me draw your attention to the German howitzer onthe left, and, on the right, one of our own 25's. Both guns saw servicein the World War and were presented to the school--"

  "Oh, dry up, Bob!" protested Joe. "Harmon will think you're an idiot."

  "Reckon he thinks so already," responded Bob sadly, "after the way Iacted at the station. Jimmy, you can dump us at Lykes."

  The driver of the vehicle nodded silently and turned to the leftin front of Academy Hall, from the steps of which a group of boysshouted greetings, boisterous and even ribald, to the occupants ofthe carriage. Harmon found himself wishing that he had been includedin that jovial and noisy welcome. This was his first sight of apreparatory school and he liked what he saw and hoped that Kenlywould prove as attractive. Alton Academy occupied a tract of groundon the edge of the town apparently two blocks square. From the wide,well-shaded street the Green rose at a gentle grade to the row of brickand limestone buildings that fronted it, a smooth expanse of fine turfintersected by gravel roads and paths and shaded here and there bygiant elms. There was no fence nor wall and from a little distance theGreen seemed to run, right and left, into the flower
-filled yards ofthe houses across the side streets. There was something very dignified,very lovely about the place, and the visitor's heart warmed to it. Hewanted to ask if Kenly was like this, but incipient loyalty to theschool of his choice restrained him. Then the carriage pulled up at adormitory building and everyone piled out. There was a squabble betweenJoe and Martin over who was to pay, Martin harking back to a similaroccasion last spring when he had paid the bill and Joe's memory failinghim utterly. Harmon made a motion toward his pocket, but Bob edged himtoward the steps.

  "Leave it to them," he chuckled. "Mart always pays in the end."

  This statement was speedily proved true and Joe and Bob conductedHarmon along the first floor corridor to the end of the building andthere opened a door and ushered him into a cool, shadowy study. Martinhad gone on to Haylow to dispose of his bag, but, before Harmon had gotwell settled in a comfortable chair where the faint afternoon breezereached him from one of the windows, he was back.

  They sat there awhile and talked. Once Joe and Bob absented themselveson some casual excuse that took them out of the room, and once Martinand Joe were gone for several minutes, but always one of the number wasleft to entertain the visitor. Harmon liked the study and the smallalcove-bedroom that led from it and was much interested in the picturesand trophies that adorned the walls and the tops of the chiffoniers.Joe explained that his roommate, Don Harris, had not arrived and wouldprobably not get there until the next morning. Harris came from Ohioand faculty allowed those who lived at a distance a day's grace.

  "I suppose you have to be at Kenly tonight, don't you, Harmon?" heasked.

  "I believe so. I understand that school begins in the morning. Whattime is it getting to be? I don't want to miss that next train."

  "Oh, there's an hour and twenty minutes yet," said Bob. "How'd you liketo take a look around? It doesn't seem quite so warm now."

  The visitor was agreeable to the suggestion and the quartette setforth. They went first to Lawrence Hall and saw the big dining-roomthat accommodated four hundred. The forty-odd tables were alreadydraped in white and set for supper, and, with the afternoon sunlightslanting through the high windows, the silent hall looked verypleasant. They climbed the stairs to the visitors' gallery and thendescended other stairs and looked into the big kitchen through the ovalwindows in the swinging doors. Then came the athletic field, whereseveral of the tennis courts were already in use, and Harmon heardtales of hard-fought battles on gridiron and diamond and track, battlesthat were invariably won by Alton. He wanted to ask if Kenly had neverscored a victory there, but he refrained.

  They poked their heads into Upton and Borden Halls, the latterdormitory reserved for the freshman students, and then crossed to thegymnasium. Harmon could honestly and unaffectedly praise that, forit was just about the last cry in buildings of its kind. He lookedlongingly at the big swimming pool with its clear green water showingthe white tiled floor below, and Bob regretted that there wasn't timefor a swim. Then came Memorial Hall, where the sunlight shone throughthe many-hued windows and cast wonderful designs of red and blueand gold and green on the marble tablets across the silent nave. Thelibrary was here, a book-lined, galleried hall whose arched ceilingwas upheld by dark oak beams. Two great tables, each on a deep-crimsonrug, stood at either end, and many comfortable chairs surrounded them.There was a stone fireplace with monstrous andirons, and the schoolseal above it. Facing the corridor door, a clock, set in the galleryrailing, ticked loudly in the silence. Upstairs was the Auditorium onone side of the corridor, a large, many-windowed hall with a platformat one end, while, across from it, were four recitation rooms.

  Outside again, they followed a path that took them under the shade ofthe elms back to Academy Hall. There was not much time left now, andafter viewing the school offices from a respectful distance and peeringinto some of the classrooms on the first and second floors, Joe decidedthat their guest had better be thinking of getting back to the station."You mustn't go, though, without seeing the view from the cupola," headded. "There's plenty of time for that."

  Harmon looked doubtfully at his watch, but Joe was already leading theway toward a narrow flight of stairs at the end of the second-floorcorridor and Bob had an urging grip on his shoulder.

  "That's right," agreed Martin. "Everyone ought to see the view from thecupola. It--it's one of the sights!" Perhaps he meant to add furtherpersuasion, but a fit of coughing overtook him. Bob, over Harmon'shead, scowled ferociously back at him.

  The stairway ended at a closed door and the procession halted whileJoe shot back a heavy iron bolt and drew the portal outward. Then hestepped politely aside and the visitor entered a small apartment someeight feet square. It was quite bare and lighted by four tiny panesset one in each wall and just under the ceiling. Harmon's gaze wentquesting for the stairs or ladder by which he was to reach the cupola,but there was nothing of that sort in sight. Indeed, there was noegress save by the door through which he had entered! He was on thepoint of calling polite attention to the fact when a sound behind himbrought him quickly about. The sound had been made by the door as itclosed, and while he stared, open-mouthed, a second sound reached him,and this time it was made by the bolt sliding harshly into place!