_THE END OF IT._
SO Paul Grayson’s secret was out at last, and now the boys wished there
never had been any secret at all.
“I’ve had lots of fun trying to puzzle it out,” said Ned Johnston to
Napoleon Nott on the afternoon of the day of the trial, “but now I wish
that I hadn’t. Think of poor Paul!”
“I wish he had been a prince in exile,” said Napoleon Nott, “for then he
wouldn’t have had a chance to tell on himself. Princes’ sons never have
their fathers tried for passing counterfeit money. But I’ll tell you
what; the way that Paul looked when he said ‘Father!’ that day was just
like a picture in a book I’ve got, named ‘Doomed to Death; or, the
Pirate’s Protégé.’ I’ll bring it to school some day and show it to you
all.”
“I’ll break every bone in your body if you do,” said Will Palmer.
Notty suddenly remembered that his mother had sent him to the market to
order something, so he hurried away from society that he had mistakenly
supposed might be congenial, while Ned Johnston made the round of the
residences of the various boys who had been at school with Paul. The end
of it all was that the entire school met in the school-yard that evening
after supper for the purpose of formally drafting resolutions of
sympathy. Condolence also was suggested by Sam Wardwell, but Canning
Forbes said that the meeting should not make a fool of itself if he
could prevent it.
If the roll of Mr. Morton’s school had been called that evening at that
meeting, not a single absentee would have been reported. Even Charlie
Gunter, who had begun half an hour before to shake with a chill, was
present; and although his remarks were somewhat jerky, and his sentences
bitten all to pieces by his chattering teeth, he spoke so feelingly that
no one manifested the slightest inclination to laugh.
It had been intended that the meeting should be organized in as grand
style as any town-meeting to consider the dog-tax question had ever
been, but somehow there was a general unloosening of tongues, and no one
thought to move that the assemblage should be called to order.
“It’s easy enough now to see why Paul played so splendidly in that
tableau of ‘Civilization,’” said Will Palmer.
“Yes, indeed, it is,” said Canning Forbes; “and easy, too, to understand
why he fought so hard against taking the part when every one asked him
to do it.”
“No wonder he wasn’t afraid to walk beside the prisoner after the
deputy-sheriff had captured him,” said Sam Wardwell. “I don’t believe
I’d have been afraid myself, if my father had been the counterfeiter.
And say, Mr. Morton came into the store this morning and offered father
a five-dollar bill to make up his loss by the bad bill that Paul’s
father passed on him, and what do you think father said?”
[Illustration: THE MEETING IN THE SCHOOL-YARD.]
“We give it up,” said Canning Forbes, quickly. “Tell us what it was.”
“Why,” Sam answered, “he said that he wouldn’t touch it for a thousand
dollars, and if ever the prisoner needed money or anything during his
six months, all he needed to do was to send to him. Father was telling
mother about the whole thing last night when I went home, and when I
went in he jumped up and hugged me and kissed me. He hasn’t done that
before since I was a little boy.”
“Now I know why Paul used to forget his game and stare at the jail
windows so hard,” said Benny Mallow.
“Ye-es,” chattered Charlie Gunter, “and why he—he was al-always
wh-wh-wh-whistling when he passed the jail.”
“And why he never could be happy unless a game of ball was going on in
the lot by the jail,” resumed Benny. “If I’d only known all about it, I
would have sweated to death on the hottest day of the summer rather than
not have obliged him.”
“Some of the girls thought it was very unmannerly for Paul to have been
the first to leave Benny’s party the night of the escape,” said Will
Palmer. “I’m going to call specially on each one of those girls and make
her take it back.”
“And if either of them refuses,” said Sam Wardwell, “just you tell me.
She sha’n’t ever eat another philopena with me while she lives; not if
she lives for a thousand years.”
“He begged me to tell all of you boys that he hadn’t anything to do with
the catching of the prisoner,” confessed Benny, for the first time. “I
wish I’d gone and done it right away! Oh dear; I do think I’m the very
wickedest boy that ever lived—except Cain.”
“I wonder who told the judge so much about Paul’s father?” asked Ned
Johnston.
“Why, Mr. Morton, of course,” replied Canning Forbes. “Haven’t you seen
through that yet? Mr. Morton told in school one day, you know, that Paul
was the son of an old friend of his.”
At least half of the boys had not put the two ends of this thread
together before, but they all admitted that Canning had done it
correctly.
“Certainly,” said Will Palmer, “and that explains why Mr. Morton was so
frequent in his visits to the prison.”
“Yes, and why Paul felt so dreadful after _he_ had been there the first
time,” said Benny. “It just used him up completely; you’d hardly have
thought him the same boy.”
Mention of that incident recalled to the boys the manner in which Paul
had come to go to the prison, so one after another looked at Joe
Appleby, who had not yet said a word, but Joe did not seem angry; on the
contrary, he said,
“Boys, of course I didn’t know how what I said was affecting Paul, but I
know now, and I’m going to apologize to him the first chance I get. I’m
going to ask him to forgive me, or to take it out of me, if he’d rather;
and,” continued Joe, after a short pause, “I’m not going to wait for the
chance, but I’m going to make it.”
“Hurrah for Appleby!” shouted Will Palmer, and as three cheers were
given Will crossed over to the big boy of whom he had long been jealous,
and shook hands with him, and all the other boys understood it; so when
Canning Forbes cried, “Three cheers for Palmer!” they too were given
with a will.
“I want to make a suggestion,” said Canning Forbes, when the cheering
had ended. “We came here to adopt resolutions for Paul Grayson, but I’m
sure he’d be better pleased if we would say nothing about the matter;
any reference to it would be certain to give him pain. The best we can
do is to treat him with special kindness hereafter, if he stays, and
never, by any word or deed, make reference to the past. If there is any
one who insists on resolutions, let him adopt them for himself and about
himself. In spite of having had a father who was a gambler and a
criminal, Paul is the most sensible, honest, honorable, pleasant fellow
in this town. Let each one of us make a resolution that if a boy can
become what Paul is, in spite of such dreadful trouble, those of us who
have honest fathers and happy homes ought to do at least as well.”
“I’ll do that,” said Benny Mallow, “right straight away, and I’ll write
it down in a book as soon as I get home, so as to be sure never to
forget it.”
“So will I,” said Napoleon Nott. “I’ll write it on the first page of
‘The Exiled Prince,’ so I’ll be sure to see it often.”
Such of the boys as did not agree verbally to Canning’s suggestion
seemed to be making the resolution quietly, and the meeting soon broke
up. As Benny started for home it suddenly occurred to him that, now the
secret was out, Paul might go away; he certainly would if Mr. Morton did
not open school.
This was too dreadful an uncertainty to be endured, so Benny hurried to
old Mrs. Bartle’s and asked to see the teacher. Mr. Morton quickly
quieted his mind by saying that the school would continue for at least
the half-year that Paul’s father remained in the jail. Of course Paul
would be one of the class; indeed, Mr. Morton was willing that Benny
should tell every one that the only reason he had opened school at
Laketon at all was his desire to be near the old friend whom he could
not desert in his trouble, and to have near the prisoner, whose real
name was Paul Gray, the son for whom, since the death of his wife, Paul
Gray had felt an affection that Mr. Morton knew would make a good man of
him when again he had a chance to start in the world.
When Paul Gray’s term of imprisonment expired he and Paul went away
together, and no one was so unmannerly as to ask them where they were
going. Some of the people of the town talked of taking up a subscription
for the unfortunate man, but Mr. Morton said it would not be necessary,
as Gray’s old friends had arranged to start him in business. All of the
boys were as sorry to part with Paul as if the boy had been going to his
grave, particularly because Canning Forbes had reminded them that it
would not do to ask him to write to them, because his father would
prefer that no one who had known his old history should know where he
began his new life.
But every one begged Paul’s picture, which pleased Paul greatly; and
after a supper given expressly in Paul’s honor by Joe Appleby, Canning
Forbes arose and presented Paul an album containing the portraits of all
the members of the old class. The pictures were not remarkably good,
having been done by a carpenter who sometimes took “tin-types” merely to
oblige people, he said, but the album was handsome, having been ordered
from New York, regardless of expense, by Sam Wardwell’s father, and on
the cover was the inscription, in gold letters, “Don’t forget us, for we
can’t forget you.”
THE END.
Transcriber's notes
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected without mentioning.
Spelling inconsistencies have been maintained.