WAYNE PAYS A BILL
“I want two dollars, Don.”
Don glanced up with a smile.
“So do I; I was thinking so just this morning. I need a new pair of
gymnasium shoes, and-- But please, Wayne, come in and shut the door;
there’s a regular cyclone blowing around my feet.”
“But, look here. I want to borrow two dollars from you, Don; I must
have it right away,” said Wayne peremptorily, as he shut out the
draught.
“Sorry, because I haven’t got fifty cents to my name, and won’t have
until Monday. What do you want to do with it? Going to start a bank?”
“That’s none of your business,” answered Wayne; “and if you can’t lend
it to me I can’t stop chinning here. I’ll try Paddy, I guess.”
“Paddy!” exclaimed Don, with a grin. “Why, Paddy never has a nickel
ten minutes after his dad sends him his allowance, which is the first.
If he had I’d be after him this minute; he’s owed me eighty cents ever
since September. Dave might have it. Have you had dinner? Where did
you go to?”
“Dinner? No, I forgot about it. What time is it? Am I too late?”
“Of course; it’s twenty after two. What have you been doing?”
“Oh, I’ve--” Wayne’s face grew cloudy as he jumped off the end of the
table and went to the door. “I’ll tell you about it later. I’m busy
now. Has Dave got a recitation on?”
“What’s to-day--Thursday? I’m sure I don’t know. I never can keep track
of his hours; seniors are such an erratic, self-important lot.”
“Well, I’ll run over and see. Er--by the way, do you know a chap called
Gray, a rather pasty-looking lower middle fellow?”
“Gray? No, I don’t think so. What does he do?”
“Do? Oh, I think he’s a baseball player, or something like that.”
“Don’t remember him. Are you coming up here after four?”
“Yep; wait for me.”
Wayne clattered off downstairs and crossed the green back of the
gymnasium and the principal’s residence. As he went he drew a little
roll of money from his vest, supplemented it with a few coins from his
trousers’ pocket, and counted the whole over twice. He shook his head
as he put the money away again.
“Nine dollars and forty-two cents,” he muttered, “and I can’t make any
more of it if I count it all day.”
He ran up the steps to Hampton House, pushed open the broad, white door
and entered the big colonial hallway. At the far end a cheerful fire
was cracking in a generous chimney place, lighting up the dim gilt
frames and dull canvases of the portraits of bygone Hilltonians that
looked severely down from the walls. Hampton House is a dormitory whose
half dozen rooms are inhabited by a few wealthy youths who find in the
comfort of the great, old-fashioned apartments and the prestige that
residence therein brings compensation for the high rents. Wayne turned
sharply to the right and beat a tattoo with his knuckles over the black
figure 2 on the door. From within came the sound of a loud voice in
monotonous declamation. Wayne substituted his shoe for his knuckles and
Paddy’s voice bade him enter.
“Where’s Dave?” asked Wayne. Paddy, who had been tramping up and down
the apartment with a book in his hand, and declaiming pages of Cæsar’s
Civil War to the chandelier, tossed the volume aside and tried to
smooth down his hair, which was standing up in tumbled heaps, making
him look not unlike “the fretful porcupine.”
“Dave’s at a recitation; German, I think. Want to see him?”
“Yes, I want to borrow some money from him.”
“Don’t think he has any. You see, I borrow most of his money as soon as
it comes; he never has any use for it himself, and it grieves me to see
it laying round idle. How much do you want?”
“Two dollars. Have you got it, Paddy?”
“’Fraid not; let’s see.” He pulled open a table drawer and rummaged
about until several pieces of silver rewarded his search. Then he
emptied his pockets, and the two counted the result.
“Eighty-five cents,” said Paddy regretfully. “Hold on; perhaps Dave has
some change left. Sometimes I leave him a few cents for pocket money.”
He went to his chum’s bureau and in a moment returned with a purse
which, when turned up over the study table, rained from its depths four
quarters and a nickel.
“Oh, the desavin critter!” cried Paddy. “Now, where did he get all that
wealth? Let’s see; that’s one dollar and ninety cents. If we could only
find another dime----”
“That’ll do,” answered Wayne, as he pocketed the coins. “I’ll write
home to-night and pay you back as soon as I get it. I’m awfully much
obliged.”
“Don’t mention it. Is there anything else I can do for you to-day?”
“Have you got anything to eat? I lost my dinner; forgot it until a
minute ago.”
“I’ve got some crackers,” replied Paddy dubiously, “and a tin of some
kind of meat. It’s been opened a good while, but I guess it’ll be all
right after I scrape the mold off.”
“Bring them out, will you? I’m in a hurry, Paddy; I’ve got a recitation
at 3.15.” Paddy whistled.
“In a hurry! Whisper, Wayne, are yez ill?”
“Shut up. Where’s the meat?”
The delicacies were produced and Wayne ate ravenously. As Paddy had
predicted, the tinned beef was extremely palatable to the hungry boy
after a half inch of mold had been detached with the paper cutter.
“Do you know a chap named Gray?” asked Wayne, with his mouth full of
cracker.
“Aisy, me boy!” cried Paddy. “Don’t choke yersilf. Wait till your
tongue has more room. Gray, did you say? I know a youngster by that
name in the lower middle. He played ball on the junior nine last year
when they beat us by one run in twelve innings.”
“That’s the fellow. Where does he room?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll soon tell you.” Paddy found a school catalogue
and turned the leaves. “Here we are: Gray, Carl Ellis, Buffalo, N. Y.,
W. H. Vance’s.”
“Whereabouts is Vance’s?” asked Wayne, as he scraped the bottom of the
can.
“Just around the corner from the post office; a big, square, white
house with green blinds and a cat-colored roof.”
“A what?”
“Cat-colored roof--kind of a Maltese color, you know.”
“Well, I’m off. Thanks for the stuff! Tell Dave----”
“Hold on and I’ll go with you. What’s up?”
“No, you won’t; I’m going alone. I’ll tell you about it later--perhaps.”
“Well, if it’s a lark, you’re mighty mean not to let a chap into it.”
“It isn’t a lark at all. By!”
Wayne hurried out and Paddy grumblingly closed the door and watched him
from the window.
“He’s mighty secret-like, I’m thinking, and mighty hurried. I haven’t
seen him move so fast since he came. Must be something important. Wish
I knew, bad cess to him!”
Wayne trudged off up the village road and soon found the boarding house
with the “cat-colored roof.” Gray’s name adorned a door on the second
floor, and Wayne’s knock elicited, after a moment, a faint “Come in!”
The room was a cheerful one with four big windows, but the furnishings
were tattered and worn and the walls were almost bare of pictures. The
floor was partly covered by a threadbare ingrain rug and the green
leather on the student desk in the center was full of holes and spots.
The boy whom Wayne had seen in the principal’s office arose from a
chair at the desk as Wayne entered, and a half-written letter before
him told its own story. Gray’s eyes were suspiciously red and the lad
looked embarrassed and ill at ease. Wayne, with a sudden recollection
of Professor Wheeler’s advice, plunged at once into the subject of his
visit.
“You’re Carl Gray, aren’t you? Well, my name’s Gordon; I’m in the upper
middle. I happened to be in Wheeler’s outer office when you were in
there. The door was partly open and I couldn’t help hearing what was
said, and--and I’m awfully sorry, of course. But you see it wasn’t my
fault.”
“I’m sorry you heard it,” answered Gray, looking piteously embarrassed;
“but of course you--it wasn’t your fault.”
“No--was it?” asked Wayne eagerly. “So I thought that perhaps I could
help you, and--” He stepped forward and placed the money on the table.
“There’s eleven dollars there. I couldn’t get hold of any more, but
you said you had a dollar, you know, so perhaps that’ll be enough.”
Gray looked helplessly from Wayne to the money and back again. Once
he opened his mouth, but, as he apparently could find no words, Wayne
went on: “I haven’t a mother myself, you see--she died when I was just
a youngster--but if I had I’d feel as you do about the bill; and of
course Professor Wheeler won’t send it to her if you pay this money to
Porter to-day and tell him about it.”
“But I don’t see why--why you should lend me this,” said Gray, at
length. “You don’t know me and--and I can’t pay you for a good while. I
don’t get much of an allowance, and----”
“I know,” replied Wayne cheerfully. “Fifty cents a week. But pay me
back when you can; I’m in no hurry. And--and you might come and see me
sometime; I room in Bradley--No. 15.”
“I’ll pay you fifty cents every week until it’s all returned!” cried
Gray. “Why, I’d have done--done anything to keep mother from knowing
about it and having to pay it! I was such a fool, wasn’t I? Bought
clothes and gloves and lots of things that I didn’t need just because
Porter said I could charge them and that he wouldn’t ask for the money
until I could pay it.”
“He ought to be kicked!” exclaimed Wayne angrily.
“He didn’t act decently,” continued Gray. “If he’d only told me last
year I could have had it almost paid by now; but I thought there was no
hurry, and--and--” He stopped and dropped his gaze; then he went on in
lowered tones: “I wish I could make you understand how glad I am and
how much I thank you----”
“Oh, dry up!” said Wayne, backing toward the door and searching with
his hand for the knob. “It’s all right, and I understand. And--well, I
must hurry--got a recitation, you know--may be late now.”
He had found the knob and the last words were spoken from the hallway.
“But, I say, Gray, I wish you wouldn’t try to pay fifty cents a week to
me. I don’t need it, you know, and it’s all your allowance, and----”
“I think I’d rather, if you don’t mind,” answered the younger lad
resolutely. He was smiling now and looked quite healthy and happy; but
something was glittering in the corner of his eye, and Wayne seeing it,
bolted downstairs three steps at a time.
After Wayne left Hampton House Paddy went dejectedly back to his Latin,
but at the end of twenty minutes found that he had remembered nothing
of what he had gone over, and so tossed his book aside, yawned, glanced
at the clock, and sallied forth in the direction of Academy Building.
As he turned the corner he caught sight of Don coming down the steps
and gained that youth’s attention by a war whoop. Don was looking
unusually thoughtful as Paddy overtook him.
“Why, you look serious enough to have been visiting ‘Wheels’!” cried
Paddy.
“That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“What--you? What’s the trouble?”
“I’ll tell you. It’s Wayne. He won’t attend gym work and he’s told
‘Wheels’ as much, and ‘Wheels’ has threatened to put him on probation
if he doesn’t report to Beck to-morrow.”
“But----”
“‘Wheels’ sent for me and asked me to use my persuasive powers on the
silly dub. But what can I do? Wayne’s as stubborn as a mule, and he
declares he won’t attend; says it’s an injustice--that faculty hasn’t
any right to compel him to do gym work unless he wants to.”
“Do you mean that he told all that rot to ‘Wheels’?”
“Every word, and a lot more, I guess.” Paddy whistled.
“Well, he is a chump. Where is he? He came over and borrowed some money
awhile ago. What’s he up to now?”
“Don’t ask me,” responded Don helplessly. “What I want to know is, how
can we keep the fellow from being put on probation or suspended, for
‘Wheels’ declares he’ll do both?”
“Why, we’ll get Dave, and the three of us will reason with him.”
“Pshaw! we might as well save our breath. I’d just as soon reason with
a lamp-post,” answered Don, in disgust.
“Hello! there he comes now,” said Paddy. “He’s been to the village to
see some fellow by the name of Gray. Shall we walk down and try our
arguments now?”
“No; let’s wait. You and Dave come up to the room to-night and we’ll
see what we can do with him,” said Don. “I hate to have him get into
trouble, because, after all, he’s a good chap.”
“Of course he is,” answered Paddy heartily, “and we’ll look after him
all right. Why, if he won’t go and take his gym work like a little man,
after we’ve reasoned with him, we’ll----”
Paddy stopped, grinning broadly, and slapped Don triumphantly on the
shoulder.
“I have it!” he cried.
“Have what?”
“A way, my lad.”
“What is it?” asked Don eagerly.
“Why, if he refuses to go to gym to-morrow, we’ll just-- But I’ll tell
you later. Here he is. Hello, Old Virginia! where’ve you been?”
“Oh, just to the village,” answered Wayne vaguely.
“And did you spend all that money?”
“Every cent of it.”
“Well, pony up. Where are the goodies?” demanded Paddy.
“Why, I--well, the fact is----”
“Cut it out. What did you buy?”
“Nothing. Fact is I--I paid a bill.”