THE STRUGGLE
Lefty went to his room rather early that night, but not to bed.
The discovery of the terrible mistake he had made regarding Elgin
bewildered him at first, and then made him feel as if he wanted to get
away by himself to think it all over.
For three years he had felt absolutely certain of Bert Elgin’s
responsibility for that theft at Princeton. He had felt the scorn and
contempt for his college mate which any decent man would naturally feel
for a person guilty of what Elgin had done. He had, moreover, from the
very first, never hesitated to show those feelings. Now it would seem
that he had been totally in the wrong.
It was a most disagreeable discovery. Lefty would have felt glad indeed
had there been a chance of believing Wilmerding mistaken, but such a
thing was hardly possible. Oggie had never been on friendly terms with
Elgin in the old days, so there was no earthly reason to suspect him of
making up the story in order to shield the real culprit.
“And, anyway, he couldn’t have told it the way he did unless it were
true,” Locke thought to himself. “It isn’t in him to fake a thing so
realistically.”
Frowning, Lefty moved restlessly about the room, picking up an article
here and there and replacing it without a realization of what he was
doing. Of course the only proper course for him to follow was to go
straight to Elgin and apologize for having misjudged him so greatly,
but the thought of doing so was intolerable.
He detested the fellow as much as ever. His suspicion of Elgin’s
responsibility for the doped beer remained unshaken. Whether the man
had stolen or not, did not affect that question.
“I can’t do it!” Lefty burst out, at length, a vivid picture of the
sneering reception which would greet an apology on his part flashing
into his mind. “I detest that man, and I won’t give him a chance to
crow over me. He’d seize it gleefully.”
For a time he deluded himself with the idea that, after all, it wasn’t
up to him to do anything. The matter had never been made public. With
the exception of Ogden Wilmerding, Stillman and Ferris were the only
ones who knew anything of it. It had long ago been relegated to the
past. Why should it be dragged out into the light at this late day? He
would write to Bob Ferris that very night and put him straight about
the matter. That should be enough.
Deep down in his heart Lefty Locke knew that it was not enough. Because
he was clean and straight and honorable, he knew that it was up to
him to apologize to the man he had so cruelly misjudged, whether he
detested him or not. He had been responsible for the stigma resting on
Elgin’s good name, and that responsibility could not be shirked. Common
decency made it imperative for him to acknowledge his mistake.
The decision was not an easy one. In fact, Lefty had never struggled
harder against the temptation to take the simple course and let things
slide. If he kept silent, the chances were a thousand to one that Elgin
would never hear a whisper of Wilmerding’s story. The latter was not
likely to repeat it to others, and Stillman would certainly keep the
matter to himself.
In spite of all these plausible arguments, however, the southpaw knew
that there was really only one thing for him to do, much as he hated
it; and, having come to that conclusion, he lost no time in ridding
himself of the unpleasant duty.
A glance at his watch told him that it was not yet eleven. Possibly
Elgin might still be up, and if the task could be done that night, so
much the better.
Stepping out into the corridor, he walked to Elgin’s room, noticed
the light streaming through the transom, and, without further delay,
knocked firmly on the door.
“Come in!” called a voice impatiently.
Elgin, partly undressed, stood in the middle of the room. As his rival
entered and closed the door behind him, a look of surprise flashed into
his face, followed swiftly by a scowl.
“Well, what in blazes do _you_ want?” he snapped with pointed emphasis.
Lefty bit his lips to keep back the retort he longed to utter. He
realized that it was going to be even harder than he had expected.
“I’ve found out that I was wrong about that affair at college, Elgin,”
he said stiffly. “I came to tell you that I am sorry for having
misjudged you.”
For an instant Elgin stared at him in silence, the shirt he had just
taken off trailing unheeded on the floor. His face was an odd mixture
of astonishment and suspicious incredulity.
“You mean――about the Ferris――business?” he asked jerkily.
Locke nodded. “Yes; I was mistaken in thinking you mixed up in it. I’ve
been mistaken for three years.”
Elgin’s brows came together in a scowl. His lids drooped until they
quite hid the expression in his dark eyes.
“Humph!” he grunted. “And when did you find out what an ass you’ve been
making of yourself?”
Lefty flushed, and set his jaws. “I learned the truth to-night,” he
admitted.
Suddenly Elgin’s face relaxed from its rather tense, searching
expression, and he laughed harshly.
“And so you’re sorry?” he sneered. “That puts you right, I suppose!
Without a shred of evidence, you accuse a man of stealing. For three
years you blackguard him every chance you get, and then, when you find
out the truth, when you wake up to the fact that you’ve been all kinds
of a blackguard, all you can do is to come around whining about being
sorry. Bah!”
Lefty drew his breath sharply, his self-control strained almost to the
breaking point.
“What more can I do?” he demanded.
Elgin’s lips curled. “Oh, nothing――nothing,” he sneered. “It’s what you
should have done before that gets me. Anybody but a fool would have
waited till he could prove it before he called a man a thief. But no;
you had to jump in and show how smart you were without giving a thought
to the damage you might be doing to a person’s character.”
Lefty felt that argument would be futile. Besides, he knew that if he
stayed any longer he would most certainly blow up and say something he
might afterward regret.
“I’ve told you I’m sorry, and I am,” he repeated briefly. “I’ll write
to Bob Ferris to-night, and put him straight about the matter. I fail
to see what more there is to do.”
Without further words, he turned abruptly to leave the room. He had
almost reached the door when Elgin’s sneering voice broke the silence:
“If you think this squares everything between us, you’ve got another
guess coming. I haven’t forgotten how you’ve slandered me, and I never
will, even if you should crawl like this every day for the rest of the
year.”
Lefty whirled, his eyes blazing. “I don’t give a rip what you remember
or forget!” he retorted sharply. “I apologized because I had to save my
self-respect. If you imagine I want to have anything more to do with
you than before, get rid of the notion right away. I don’t like you
or your methods. You may not be guilty of stealing, but there are some
other things fully as rotten that you have done.”
Before Elgin could reply the southpaw had jerked the door open, stepped
swiftly through, and slammed it behind him.