by Morgan Scott
CHAPTER XI.
ON THE THRESHOLD.
“On the contrary,” declared Roger earnestly, as he once more rose fromhis chair, “I hold quite a different opinion of you, Stone. You havehad a tough time of it, and any fellow in your place with an ounce ofreal blood in his body might have done just what you did. Every chap ishuman, and if you had submitted to insults and injury withoutresentment you would have been a soft mark. Hayden marked you for life,and he might have killed you when he struck with that knife; in returnyou gave him just what he deserved. There is nothing in the world Idespise more than a fighter who is a bully, and nothing I admire morethan a fighter who fights for his rights. I don’t believe there is theleast atom of a bully about you, Stone. Put me in your place and Imight have gone farther than you did.”
“Thank you, Eliot—thank you!” exclaimed Ben huskily, as he also rose.“But I have learned by experience that any fellow can’t afford to trysquaring up scores with an enemy by fighting or any sort of personalviolence; I’ve found out he only injures himself the most, and Ibelieve there must be other and better ways of getting even.”
“Perhaps that’s right, too,” nodded Roger; “but I am satisfied that itis your natural impulse to protect the weak and defend them from thestrong and brutal. You do it without pausing to think of possibleconsequences to yourself. That’s why you defended Jimmy Jones from HunkRollins, who, by the way, is a duffer for whom I have no particularuse. That is why you faced the fangs of old Fletcher’s fierce dogs tosave my sister. Stone, I think you’re all right, and I’m ready to tellanybody so.”
Again Ben expressed his thanks in a voice deep with emotion.
“Now,” Roger went on, “I think we understand each other better, and Iam satisfied that a chap of your grit and determination will be avaluable addition to the Oakdale Eleven, for there are some fellows onthe team who lack sand and can be well spared. Don’t talk to me aboutleaving school!” he exclaimed, lifting a hand and smiling in thatmanner which made him so attractive. “That’s all nonsense! You’re notgoing to leave school.”
“But—but I can’t stay,” faltered Stone. “I don’t want to leave, but——”
“You shan’t; I’ll see to that. Prof. Richardson shall know just why yousailed into Hunk Rollins, I promise you. When he understands that youwere simply protecting a helpless cripple from a bully who wastormenting him he’ll be pretty sure to do you justice. He’ll find outhow you defended my sister, too. I tell you it’s all right, old fellow,and you’ll stay right here at school as long as you care to do so.”
A flush came to Ben’s freckled cheeks and his eyes gleamed with growingeagerness.
“That’s fine of you, Eliot!” he exclaimed.
“Fine—nothing! Do you think that will be anything compared with whatyou did for me? I should say not! If I didn’t do that much I’d be apoor flub.”
“Hayden—he will——”
“Don’t you worry about Hayden. This is not Hilton, and it’s not likelyLemuel Hayden could succeed in making much out of that old affair if hetried. Besides, I fancy my father has about as much influence inOakdale as Lemuel Hayden has. He has been here a great deal longer, andthe mill business of the place is decidedly more important than thelime industry. I’ll guarantee that father will stand by you like abrick, so, you see, you have some friends of consequence.”
It was difficult for Ben to comprehend at once that the thing which hadmenaced him and threatened to drive him like a criminal from Oakdalewas no longer to be feared. From the depths of despair he was thuslifted to the heights of hope, but the sudden change seemed to bewilderhim.
Roger’s arm fell across his shoulders and Roger went on talking to himquietly and convincingly, making it plain that his proper course was toreturn to school the following day exactly as if nothing had happened.
“Leave it to me; leave it to me,” Roger persisted. “I’ll guarantee tosettle the whole matter for you. Say you’ll let me take care of thisaffair, old chap.”
“You—I—I——”
“Then it’s settled, is it?” cried the determined boy. “You’ll be thereto-morrow? That’s first rate! Give me your hand on it.”
Ben found Roger shaking his hand, and he returned the warm, friendlygrip, a mist in his eyes.
“I can’t hardly believe I’m lucky enough to have such a friend,” halfwhispered the boy whose starved heart had yearned all his life forfriendship and comradery. “It’s too good to be true.”
“Perhaps I’m a bit selfish about it, too,” said Eliot. “I have my eyeon you for the eleven, as we’re bound to do up Wyndham this year. Youought to be a stiff man in the line. I want you to come out forpractice to-morrow night. We’ll have our coach next week, and thenwe’ll have to settle right down to business and get into trim. He’llmake us toe the scratch.”
Later, on the way back to his bare room at Mrs. Jones’, Ben wondered ifhe had not been dreaming. It did not seem possible that such goodfortune could come to him at last, just when, to all appearances, hishard luck had culminated in blighting disaster.
As he thought of his visit to Roger Eliot’s home, of his reception byRoger’s family, of that dinner in the handsome dining room, and ofRoger’s earnest pledge on hearing his story to stand by him and be hisfriend, a strange and wonderful feeling of lightness and exuberanthappiness possessed him and made him long to shout and sing. An inwardvoice seemed whispering that he had left behind him all the darkshadows, and now stood on the threshold of a brighter and better life.
Still it was not wholly without a feeling of dread and misgiving thathe approached the academy the following morning, and the fear thatsomehow things might not go right after all left his face pale,although his heart beat tumultuously, as he came up the gravel walk.
As usual at such an hour on warm and pleasant days while school washolding there was a group of boys near the academy steps. ChipperCooper had just finished telling for the thirteenth time that morninghow Stone had defended Amy Eliot and “knocked the stuffing out ofFletcher’s dogs,” his every statement having been confirmed by ChubTuttle, who was making a sort of after-breakfast lunch on peanuts.
Every boy in the gathering turned to look at Ben as he drew near, andhad he observed he must have seen there was nothing of unfriendlinessin their faces. When he would have passed them to enter the academyChipper called to him.
“Hey, Stone!” he cried; “hold on a minute, will you? Where did you hitOld Tige’s big dog when you knocked him stiff? We fellows have beenwondering how you did it.”
“I hit him on the back of his neck,” answered Ben, pausing a bit.
“Well, that was a dandy trick!” declared Cooper. “You ought to have areward of merit for that.”
Chub Tuttle approached Ben and held out a handful of peanuts.
“Have some,” he urged, his round face beaming. “Fresh roasted. Got ’emat Stickney’s store.”
“Thank you,” said Ben, feeling his face flush as he accepted two orthree of them.
At that moment Roger Eliot came from within the building, saw Ben andseized him immediately, saying:
“Just the fellow I’m looking for! Prof. Richardson wants to see youbefore school begins. Come in.”
Then, with his arm about Ben, he drew him into the academy.
“By Jinks!” exclaimed Sile Crane; “I guess that pretty nigh settlesthings. When Roger Eliot takes up with a feller like that, Bern Haydennor nobody else ain’t goin’ to down him much.”
“’Sh!” hissed Sleuth Piper, assuming an air of caution and mystery. “Ihave been piping things off this morning, and I’ll stake my reputationon it that Eliot has been fixing it for Stone. He has revealed to theprofessor the whole tragic tale of that encounter with Fletcher’s dogs,and, besides that, the professor has been questioning some of thefellows who were on the scene of action when the go between Stone andRollins took place. My deduction is that Stone will come out of thisaffair with f
lying colors.”
“You’re almost too knowing to live, Sleuth,” said Cooper sarcastically.“As for me, I rather hope Stone does come out all right, for if hestays in the school he may play football, and I reckon a stocky chaplike him will just about fill an aching void in the right wing of theline.”
“An aching void!” sneered Piper, who had not relished Cooper’s words ormanner. “Will you be good enough, Mr. Smarty, to tell us how a void canache?”
“Why, sure,” grinned Chipper promptly. “You have a headache sometimes,don’t you?”
“Smarty! smarty!” cried Sleuth, as he fled into the academy to escapefrom the laughter of the boys.
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