In twenty-four hours the big fire had burned itself out. A smart
thunder shower, followed by a soaking drizzle, breaking the long
drought, helped to check it; just as the valiant labors of the
settlement men, reënforced by farmers of the neighborhood and drafts of
town firemen and volunteers, counted in preventing its spread around
the end of the lake to the pavilion and cottages. But, as a matter of
fact, the lake itself and an inlet penetrating deeply into the shore
were the most effective checks. Here the fire burned to the water’s
edge, and stopped because it there found nothing more to burn; but
for a day, in spite of the rain and the efforts of the fire brigade,
acrid clouds of smoke hung over the blackened area, proof that in the
accumulated woods waste there were still smouldering embers. In the
end, of course, these lingering fires died out, and the smoke clouds
thinned and vanished; and there was left a scene of desolation and
destruction, a stretch of gaunt, charred and leafless trees rising out
of a mass of gray, ash-strewn debris.
“Kinder melancholy foreshore for them summer folks to be
contemplatin’,” Lon philosophized. “Still, they don’t have to look
at it, if they don’t want to. And they’ve got their nice little,
fancy-painted houses left, and that’s good luck for them. And in
another year or two, the stuff’ll be growin’ green again--old Natur’
is like Charity in coverin’ a multitude o’ sins--and except for the
bean-pole effect of the dead trunks, things won’t be so distressin’.
No; the lake shore’ll be mended a good long while before some
reputations is--eh?”
Sam was of the same opinion. It would be a long, long time before
people forgot the performances of Ed Zorn and Jack Hagle. Zorn had
carried out his pledge. He had gone among his classmates, and had
cleared the slate for Trojan and Sam and the Safety First Club. He had
told his father all he knew of the fire. And then he had dropped out.
It was no surprise to Sam to learn, one morning, that Zorn had left the
school and the town for a time. It was rumored that his father had
despatched him to an institution, which was celebrated for its strict
discipline, and which continued its term through the summer. In his
case out of sight did not mean out of mind, but it did mean that at the
school affairs could go on, undisturbed by rash ambition and reckless
striving for honors.
Hagle’s case was not to be disposed of so simply. When Sam led him to
the principal, he made good his promise of clearing the Trojan. He
offered no excuses, but the principal guessed shrewdly at the extent of
the evil influence Zorn had exerted upon the weakling. Hagle was not
expelled, but the sentence imposed upon the Trojan was shifted to his
shoulders, with the addition that his recitation marks were canceled
from the day of the test. It meant flat failure for him in the Latin
for the term, and consequently the loss of a year--but Jack made no
complaint. He told Sam that he felt he was getting off easily, as
indeed he was; and he added, truthfully enough, that his greater ease
of mind, now that justice was done, was worth all its cost, and more.
The principal asked Sam to remain after Hagle had gone. He studied the
boy meditatively, and with a hint of distinct esteem.
“Parker,” he said, “I don’t, as a rule, ask pupils to sit as judge or
jury; but, in this instance, I’m moved to seek your opinion. Frankly, I
think you have won a right to be consulted. Now, as to Walker----”
Sam waited for him to finish the sentence; perceived that he had no
intention of doing so; spoke what was in his heart, and spoke plainly:
“The thing that cut Trojan deepest, sir, was that he didn’t get a
square deal--I mean, that’s how he felt. And I felt the same way. You
can see for yourself now how things worked out to give us the worst
of it. So it seems to me, sir, Trojan ought to come in for just the
squarest sort of a deal that can be given him. Of course, I don’t know
how Mr. Bacon may----”
At mention of the sub-master, who had conducted the inquiry, the
principal made a movement, slight but perceptible. Somehow, Sam knew
that his old suspicion had been justified, that the head of the school
had not approved the course taken by his assistant.
“Mr. Bacon is not presently concerned in this matter,” said the
principal. “You and I are discussing it--and only you and I. I believe
on a previous occasion we agreed on the desirability of doing essential
justice. But what is essential justice in this case?”
“Clearing Trojan’s name to begin with?”
“Certainly.”
“Then, putting him back where he was in his classes--fixing it so that
he doesn’t lose his standing.”
“What’s the situation--with his studies, I mean?”
Sam told him what the club had done to tutor Trojan in Latin, and to
encourage him to keep up his work in the other branches.
“Of course, sir, he’s naturally had the snap knocked out of him,” he
added. “This thing has hurt his rank all around. He--well, he didn’t
care: he kept at it more to oblige us than for his own sake. And--well,
there ought to be some allowance made on that score.”
The principal looked thoughtful. “Go on, Parker,” he said.
“As for the Latin--now, sir, it seems to me he ought to be put back
where he was, given the mark he made on that paper, and allowed at
least his average for the time he couldn’t go to class. And when he
takes the final examination, it would be only fair to give him some
leeway--we’re not crackerjack tutors, any of us, you know.”
The principal’s eyes twinkled. “Parker, knowledge of what one wants
is an advantage at times. It’s quite an order of yours, but--I’ve
taken the trouble to investigate Walker’s record from his entrance.
And I”--he bent forward and dropped his voice--“I’m going to tell
you something--in strict confidence, understand. If Walker will show
reasonable industry for the brief balance of the term--why, I can
assure you it will require considerable ingenuity on his part to fail
to meet my requirements--all around--on this year’s work. Is that
satisfactory to you?”
If the principal’s eyes had twinkled, Sam’s glistened. “It’s more than
satisfactory, sir--it’s bully!” he cried; and with an impulsiveness
he rarely displayed he caught the other’s hand, gripped it hard, and,
turning, dashed out of the room to carry the tidings to the club.
The boys received the news as good news--the best of news--but
each received it in his own way. The Shark said “Huh!” and blinked
furiously behind his big spectacles. Tom Orkney wrung Sam’s hand. Poke
chuckled joyously; Step threw his hat in the air; Herman Boyd turned a
cartwheel. As for the Trojan, after all the chief in interest--well, he
very, very nearly broke down. Probably none of his friends--not even
Sam--realized how hard he had been hit, or how the belief that he had
been dealt with unfairly had rankled. At times some of the boys had
felt that he had been too passive in accepting rather than assisting in
their efforts in his behalf; but now the Trojan left them no ground for
complaint. With his reputation cleared, he threw himself with an energy
which was almost ferocious into the task of making up lost time and
preparing for the closing examinations.
“I don’t want to be carried through them; I want to go through them on
my own feet!” he declared to Sam, tersely and most earnestly.
As has been related, the school and the town learned more or less of
what had happened, though the Safety First Club issued no bulletins.
And the former made haste to revise its judgment of the Trojan, and
Sam, and their friends. The triumph, in fact, was complete to the
point of embarrassment. There was something very like an ovation for
the Trojan in the schoolyard, and a cheer, ragged but enthusiastic,
was raised in Sam’s honor--and to his vast discomfort. From far off
Jack Hagle looked on. He was practically an outcast now, shunned by
everybody, but prevented from following Zorn’s example and fleeing the
scene of his discomfiture; but Hagle, be it said, weakling though he
was, was happier doing his penance than he had been as the tool of the
masterful Zorn.
Lon perhaps made the best summary of Jack’s case, his remarks being
addressed to the assembled club, gathered of a showery afternoon in the
Parker garage. There had been some good-natured jests at the expense
of Poke, who recently had brought in the salvage from the Saracen,
and who was understood to be meditating further experiments in motor
transportation, about which he declined to be communicative.
“Maybe I have an idea, but I’m not advertising it,” he remarked.
“I’m going to take my time this trip. You see, the trouble with the
Saracen, I’ll always maintain, was because I tried to fly just a wee
too quick. As it was, we _did_ fly--a little; otherwise, how’d we have
got over that wall and into the road? No; I don’t say there’s going to
be another aeroplane; but, whatever it is, I’m not going to hurry too
much. You see, I learned something, anyway, from that experience.”
This seemed to give Lon his text.
“I’m right down sorry for that Hagle boy,” he said. “Still, there’s
more or less o’ what’s called alleviatin’ circumstances. He’s like a
feller that’s been needin’ a bath mighty bad, but when he gets one,
finds he’s in awful hot water. And he squirms, and wriggles, and
sweats, but all the while it’s doin’ him a heap o’ good. Why? Because
he’s gettin’ clean. And when the dirt’s good and thick and caked on, as
you might say, it takes a real b’ilin’ out to start it good and proper.
But I reckon Hagle’s gettin’ his laundryin’ all right. He’s doin’ well,
to date. The next p’int is for him to come out of it with a backbone
starched till there’s some stiffness in it. And if that happens--well,
it’ll be wuth to him all it cost--and a leetle more. What say to that?”
He might have read agreement in all the faces before him, but nobody
put the answer into words.
Lon chuckled softly. “Well, then, if none of you’s moved to give
testimony, I’ll say it again: this thing’ll be wuth to Hagle all it
cost--and then some--if it makes a man of him. That’s the truth, and
truth’ll bear repeatin’. That’s about the best way there is o’ makin’
sure it is the truth.... Tell you what, boys! Truth’s bound to come out
top o’ the heap!”
Several heads nodded; but Poke spoke, meditatively, if not doubtfully:
“I know--only sometimes it doesn’t seem to come running.”
“Oh, that’s jest because it happens to have a long way to go in some
cases,” said Lon impressively. “But it gets there every time--yessiree,
every time!”
* * * * *
The Stories in this Series are:
THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB
THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB AND THE FLOOD
THE SAFETY FIRST CLUB FIGHTS FIRE
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are
mentioned, except for the frontispiece.
Punctuation has been made consistent.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in
the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have
been corrected.