CHAPTER XXIIIVOICES
Jeff staggered back as if he had been struck a blow in the face. Was this treachery? The evidence was certainly accusing.
But suddenly his nervousness passed and just anger and resentment took its place. His face became red and he could feel his collar grow too tight for him.
“Of all the rotten, crooked tricks, this is the worst I have ever heard of, sir,” he exclaimed. “Now I know why that book was not in my pocket where I put it and where I knew it should be. Whoever stole the examination papers also stole my book from my pocket and put one of the papers in it. Then he left the book where it would be found and turned in at the office, so you could find this evidence. That is just about the meanest trick a fellow could do.”
Dr. Livingston looked at him searchingly for several seconds and it seemed to Jeff as if thecloud that had settled over the Headmaster lifted just a little.
“Thatcher, did you enter Room 44?” he said sternly and in a manner that demanded a truthful answer.
“No, sir. I have never been in the room, sir,” said Jeff drawing himself up erect and looking the Master squarely in the eyes.
“Did you steal the examination papers that are missing?” continued Dr. Livingston.
“I did not. I have never before seen that paper that you just showed me folded in my book.”
“Do you know anything about this disagreeable situation at all,” demanded Dr. Livingston, finally.
“Nothing more than you have told me right here, sir!” replied Jeff.
Dr. Livingston was silent for several seconds. Again he spoke:
“Thatcher, I believe you. But here is mighty unpleasant circumstantial evidence that I must accept until a better case can be made out for your defense or damnation. Until then you are barred from taking the final examination. Ofcourse, you are set down from the baseball team and any other athletic team in school. You must keep within bounds at all times and you must be in your room at eight o’clock every evening. I’m very sorry, Thatcher, but you realize the seriousness of the situation. I am going to conduct an immediate investigation and will clear this thing up as soon as possible and”—the Headmaster stood up and put his hand on Jeff’s shoulder—“Thatcher, I hope you are telling the truth and that you can prove your statements, for, my boy, I like you a great deal and it would hurt me more than you can believe to know that you were party to any dishonorable acts. When I saw your name in this book here it made me feel sick at heart, my boy. Go, now, and we will try to work this out happily for you, anyway.”
Jeff could not choke back a lump that came into his throat as the kindly Headmaster spoke to him, and in spite of his best efforts tears mounted to his eyes and spilled over onto his cheek. He had never had the benefit of paternal affection and the fatherly attitude of the venerable Dr. Livingston reached a strangely responsive heartstring.
“Thank you, sir,” he said in a thick voice as he turned to leave the office.
Jeff was considerably disturbed by the developments of the morning and he went to his classes in a strangely confused and upset state of mind. Indeed, it was not until the noon recess period, just before the mid-day meal, that he managed to get control of himself again, and then only after he had had a long talk with his roommate, Wade Grenville.
“Whe-e-w-w-w,” whistled Wade, when Jeff unburdened himself to his chum, “of all the rotten dirty, skunky tricks in the world, there never was a worse one than that. And believe me, old kid, I think I know the birds who did it.”
“Who?” said Jeff, in a manner indicating clearly that he, too, had already made up his mind as to who was at the bottom of it all.
“Why, Gould and Birdie Pell, of course. There aren’t any other fellows in the school who would stoop to a trick as low as that,” said Wade with conviction.
“Well, I suspect Gould myself. But—er—well, I can’t believe Pell would do anything like that,” said Jeff.
“Tut-tut—he’s as bad as Gould. Wouldn’t wonder but that Gould had talked him into doing it and kept his own skirts clean.”
“No, no. I can’t believe that,” said Jeff.
“It’s a mighty rotten set up just the same—and—by jingoes something should be done about it. Something—er—say, Jeff, this is a matter for we students to take a hand in. By jingoes, we’ve got to find the cowards who are responsible and show them up. I’m for that. I’ll get Buck Hart and Rabbit Warren and Lafe Gammage and Honey Wiggins and a couple others and we’ll find the skunk who did it or—”
“No. Don’t do that, Wade. Don’t—”
“Tut-tut, Little One. You haven’t got a word to say. I’m going to run this end of it. Not a word now. I’ll tell you all about it after the thing is all over,” said Wade.
And in spite of Jeff’s best efforts to persuade his roommate not to interfere Wade took it upon himself to spread the news of what had happened among all of Jeff’s friends, and organize his special little committee of students who were to take it upon themselves to smoke out the fellow or fellows behind the “frame up” as they choseto call it. Indeed, Wade worked so well that by the end of the afternoon session the committee’s plans were all laid, but he refused to divulge anything to Jeff.
But during the afternoon a new development entered the situation, which, while it helped matters a little, did not tend to remove all suspicion from Jeff. At about the time the baseball men were gathering at the gym. for the regular afternoon practice word was sent to Jeff’s room to report to Dr. Livingston again. He was quick to obey the summons and at the office he found Professor Hatfield in conference with Dr. Livingston.
“Thatcher,” said Dr. Livingston, “Professor Hatfield has just shed some light on the unpleasant situation we were discussing this morning, and while it does not entirely clear you from having the Latin examination paper in your possession it does absolve you and every other boy in the school from the breach of school honor in entering Room 44. Professor Hatfield has charge of that room, as you know, and he is the custodian of the examination papers. He tells me that yesterday at noon he entered the room and took a copy of the Freshman Latin examinationaway with him, putting it in his inside pocket, so he believed. But when he went to look for it late last night he discovered that it was gone. He has tried to trace back in his memory how he might have been responsible for its disappearance and he has come to the conclusion that he must have lost it out of his pocket while crossing the campus. That explains the paper missing from Room 44 and it removes any suspicion that you or any one else had broken the school’s code of honor and entered Room 44 without permission. Now, then, Thatcher, that brings me to the point of asking you more questions and I want you on your honor as a gentleman to answer me truthfully and take your punishment if punishment is coming to you.”
“Dr. Livingston, I am always truthful, and I have always taken whatever punishment is coming to me in a manly fashion, I believe,” said Jeff.
“Yes, I think you have,” said the Headmaster.
“What questions do you want to ask me, then?” asked Jeff.
“Did you find the paper Professor Hatfield lost?” asked Dr. Livingston.
“No, sir,” said Jeff.
“You are sure you did not pick it up, and noting what it was decided to look it over first before reporting it and returning it to me?”
“No, sir. I never saw the paper before you showed it to me this morning, sir,” said Jeff.
“All right, but the evidence is against you, Thatcher, and I must still deny you certain privileges. You will be permitted to take the final examinations. We will work out a new set of Latin questions, so as to be certain that this missing paper has not passed through more than your hands. But you must remain within bounds, be in your room at the hour I designated this morning, and you cannot take part in any athletic contests whatsoever until this case is cleared up and we know all the facts. Go to your room, boy.”
Feeling somewhat relieved, but still angry and resentful that any one should play such an ugly trick on him, Jeff returned to Carter Hall. As he crossed the campus he looked out toward the ball field where the team was at afternoon practice, and he bit his lips in disappointment. Because of the dishonesty of some one else hethought he was forbidden the privilege of practicing with the team, forbidden the privilege of playing in the remaining games and especially the Lawrencetown game nest week. That would mean that he would not win his letter. That would mean— Jeff stopped short in his tracks. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. Had Gould found the examination paper and used it to keep him out of the Lawrencetown game! If he played in the Lawrencetown game Gould would not win his letter. But if he remained ineligible, Gould was the logical man to take his place and in playing the game he would win the honor he most coveted. Had Gould planted the lost examination paper in his Latin book just to keep him out of the Lawrencetown game? Jeff began to believe that it was very likely.
Jeff’s non-appearance at practice that afternoon caused a number of questions to be raised by the players and students who always watched the team warm up, and Wade Grenville was not slow in supplying the information as to just what had happened and why Jeff was being denied the privilege of practicing with the team and playing in the remaining games of the season.
The attitude of practically all of the fellows was the same. They asserted that a mighty low-down trick had been played on the third baseman, and even Gould, who was filling Jeff’s place, seemed to profess to be disturbed by the unfairness of it all, and was loud in his insistence that if Thatcher was not responsible for his own undoing, the fellow who stooped to such meanness should be smoked out and made to confess.
But Wade refused to be deceived by what he believed was a bit of stage play on the part of Gould, and he refused to accept the attitude of Birdie Pell as anything but sham. Yet, Birdie appeared to be very resentful of the way Thatcher had been “framed” as dishonest, and he insisted that he would do his utmost to help find the fellow who was responsible.
When Wade heard him make this statement he looked at the little Soph more searchingly for a moment. Then he said:
“Well, Pell, I guess you won’t have to look far amongyourfriends to find out who did it.”
Little Pell colored up at this and seemed about to make a retort. Instead, however, he bit his lips and turned away in silence.
In the locker room that afternoon Wade passed secret word among certain of Jeff’s friends, suggesting that they linger about the gym. a little later than usual.
Buck Hart, Honey Wiggins, Rabbit Warren, Cas Gorham, Brownie Davis and Mickey Daily composed the little group who remained behind in the locker room after the rest of the baseball squad had left. Wade became the spokesman at this impromptu meeting.
“Fellows,” he said, “I believe Jeff has had a mighty shabby deal put over on him by some one, and I think it is up to us to find out who did it. I don’t mind saying I have my suspicions and I for one am going to try and get at the facts in the case. I’ve been thinking that perhaps a little committee composed of the few of us here might be able to do more in the way of shedding light on the whole business than Dr. Livingston and the rest of the members of the faculty can. Thatcher doesn’t like my idea of getting you all together. He calls it gang spirit, or mob rule, or Ku Klux stuff, but just the same I think we can help a lot toward getting this mystery cleared up if we work together.”
“Sounds good,” said Lafe Gammage.
“Right-o. What’s the idea, Wade?” said Mickey Daily.
“We’re with you, Wade. Count us all in and give us the dope,” said Rabbit Warren.
“Well, here’s the way I figure it, fellows. I think that Gould is at the bottom of the whole thing. I’m going to interview him in his room to-night, and if I can’t make any progress with him, I want you fellows to be ready to come in and help me out. Not physically—that is, not unless we have to. But I don’t believe that we’ll need to use force. Just the presence of you fellows all in a group will go a long way toward making Gould understand that he will have to come across with facts and not try to lie out of anything.”
“All right, we’re with you. Aren’t we, fellows?” asked Buck Hart.
“I’ll say we are. Right-o,” came the response.
“Good. I’ll go to Gould’s room at eight o’clock. You fellows gather around outside about that time and be handy. No use of us all piling in on top of him right off. We’ll give him a chance first. All right?”
“Right as can be,” came the response. And the meeting broke up, the fellows leaving the gym. in a group.
Wade refused to discuss his plans with Jeff at all that evening, although Jeff tried his best to learn them.
“Never mind what we plan to do, Jeff, but we are going to get to the bottom of this thing if we can,” said Wade.
“All right, hang it. If you won’t let me in on it I can’t make you. But let me tell you, Wade, I don’t want any gang stuff or strong arm methods or anything like that. Don’t stoop as low as that for me, Wade. The whole thing isn’t worth it,” said Jeff.
“Oh, we won’t. I’ll promise you we won’t use force under any circumstances, but we are going to see the thing through, let me tell you.” And Wade picked up his hat and went out.
Jeff was half inclined to follow him. Indeed, he took up his hat to do so when he realized that it was eight o’clock and that he was not permitted the privilege of leaving his room at that hour.
Wade crossed over the campus and wentstraight to Newkirk, in which most of the Sophomores were quartered. On the front step of the house he found Rabbit Warren and Honey Wiggins waiting and several other fellows were coming down the drive. He could make out their forms in the gathering half light of evening.
“Wait here, fellows. I’ll whistle if I want you,” said Wade, and he entered and went upstairs to the second floor.
As he walked in the direction in which Gould’s room lay, he suddenly became conscious of voices raised to more than conversational pitch which sounded rather strange in the silent hall.
As Wade approached Gould’s room he presently recognized the voice speaking as that of Birdie Pell, and he could not resist the impulse to stop and listen. They were in Gould’s room and the transom above the door was open.
“—and I’ve stuck by you through a lot of messes,” Pell was saying, “but, by jingoes, if you are implicated in this I’m through with you, cousin or no cousin. I don’t care a whoop whether your father does get miffed and refuse to pay my expenses here. By jingoes, I’ll workmy way through and be quit of a dirty mucker like you.”
“But, Birdie, I didn’t do it, I tell you. You can’t believe I would be as low down as that, can you?”
“No, I can’t, but, by jingoes, you have made yourself such a crab around the school that Wade Grenville and all of Thatcher’s friends suspect you and are perfectly willing to believe that you would do it. And if you didn’t do it you and I have got to find out who did, just to clear you. Get me. Hang it, you make me so mad sometimes I’d give you a good beating if I was big enough. If you hadn’t been such a darned grouch and crab, and so conceited and pig headed you wouldn’t be under suspicion now. You don’t suppose I like to have you act—”
In justice to his own conscience Wade could not listen any longer and he knocked at the door.
There was silence for a moment. Then Gould, in a husky voice, said:
“Come in.”
The boy was pale of face and visibly overwrought when Wade stepped in and closed the door after him.
“I know what you’ve come for,” he said, in a voice that trembled. “But I swear to you, Wade, I do not know a single thing about it. I may be a ‘mucker,’ as Birdie has called me to-night, but honestly, Wade, I’m not as low down as all that.” Gould was so sincere and so overwrought that Wade could see tears in his eyes and his voice choked.
Jeff’s chum felt dreadfully sorry for him and almost half inclined to believe that he was telling the truth.
“Look here, Gould, I’m not the only fellow who believes that you had a hand in this. They are all downstairs. Can you go down and tell them what you have told me. If you can I believe you are honest. If you can’t, why, it will—”
Gould swallowed hard, seemed to grow a shade paler, and made a valiant effort to pull himself together.
“I’ll go down. I want to tell them all that they are mistaken. I must be a mucker to have themallbelieve me capable of such a low-down trick.” Gould got his cap, and followed Wade out into the hall and down the stairs, and Birdie, evidentlyfeeling very unhappy for his chum, trailed after them.
Rabbit Warren and Honey Wiggins were still sitting on the steps while Mickey Daily and the others stood under an elm tree near by. As the three boys came out of the door they all gathered in a little group at the foot of the steps expectantly. Wade stepped aside to give Gould the opportunity to face them, and the former third baseman stepped forward and stood in front of them for a moment.
“Fellows,” he said, in a husky voice, “Wade and Birdie Pell have told me that you believe that I planted that Latin examination paper in Jeff Thatcher’s book and left the book where it would be found and turned in so that he would be blamed for dishonesty and barred from the team. I want to tell you all that I do not know any more about the whole thing than you do, and that’s the honest truth. I want you to believe it is the truth, too. It makes me mighty unhappy to know that you can all think me capable of such an act, but it makes me realize, too, that I have probably been a cheap, rotten sort of a skate forsome time. I want you all to overlook that and give me another chance to be a regular fellow. I tell you I never stooped to anything as low as the deed you are accusing me of, and if you do not believe me I will do anything that you fellows say to—”
Gould did not finish his sentence. Out of the dark came the sound of feet running up the graveled drive, and presently a figure burst upon the scene. It was Jeff Thatcher, hatless and out of breath.
“Good, I hoped I’d find you all here. Fellows, it’s a mistake, thank goodness. Ollie Simms, the janitor, is responsible for the whole business. Here’s how it all happened. He has just been over to Dr. Livingston’s office and explained, and Dr. Livingston called me in to let me know all about it. Seems Ollie found the examination paper on the path across the campus while he was on the way over to the gym., and on the basement steps he found my Cæsar, where I must have lost it out of my coat pocket. He shoved the paper into the book and intended to bring them over to the office. But he got busy with something else and he laid the book on the gym.steps and forgot about it. Little Jimmy Wild, a sub-freshman, found it and turned it in to the office. So there is the solution of the whole business and I am exonerated. And now, what I want to do is to apologize to Gould here for the ugly thoughts I have had about him and the ugly deeds I have believed him capable of.”
Jeff stepped up the steps and extended his hand to Gould and his former enemy gripped it with tears in his eyes.
“Thanks, Jeff,” he stammered, “I must have been carrying myself like a mucker these last few months to make you believe I could be capable of such a deed.Iwant to apologize for that and I want to apologize for many other things too. That basketball foul last winter, for instance. I lied then, Jeff. That was a mucker’s trick that I have regretted ever since. I’m going to be a regular fellow after this or I’m going to quit Pennington.”
Buck Hart and Wade Grenville stepped up followed by the others.
“We, too, want to apologize, Gould. We are blamed sorry, but, honestly, you have laid yourself open to it with your lax ways, your smoking,your egotism and some of the shady stunts you have pulled in the past. But we are all willing to let that stuff be far in the past. We are for you, Gould, and little Birdie Pell here, too.”
“Fellows,” said Gould, “Birdie Pell is about the best chum a fellow could have. He’s stuck to me through a lot of what must have been to him discouraging situations and he has always tried to make me see how rotten I have been, but I guess I have been such an infernal egotist that I have not been willing to pay much attention to him. He’s my cousin, fellows, and a dandy kid. But even his relationship did not stand in the way of his throwing me down to-night when he thought I had stooped to such a low trick as I was accused of.”
“Fellows,” said Wade Grenville, “we’ve been misjudging these two chaps a heap, and I guess I’m a lot responsible for some of the unpleasant feelings we have all held against them. I propose a yell for both of them.”
The “rahs” were given with enthusiasm and echoed across the campus with such feeling that presently heads were appearing at various windows.
“And now,” yelled Buck Hart, “let’s give the same to Jeff Thatcher because I think of us all he has been the most tolerant.”
And Jeff Thatcher heard his name go echoing through the night on the end of nine rousing “rahs.”