GUS PLUM'S STORY
"You may think it strange when I tell you that I come by my appetite
for liquor naturally, yet such is a fact," began Gus Plum, after a
pause, during which he seemed to collect his thoughts. "You fellows who
don't know what such an appetite is are lucky--far more lucky than you
can realize. It's an awful thing to have such an appetite--it makes one
feel at times as though he were doomed.
"We always had liquor at our house and my folks drank it at meals, just
as their folks had done before them, so I heard. When I was a small boy
I was allowed to have my glass of wine, and on holidays we had punch
and I got my share. Sometimes, I can remember, friends remonstrated
with my folks for letting me have the stuff, but my father would laugh
and say it was all right--that he had had it himself when he was a boy
and that it wouldn't hurt me. My father never drank to excess, to my
knowledge, but his brother, my uncle, did, and once when Uncle Jim was
under the influence of liquor, he slipped under a street car and had
his arm crushed so badly he had to have it amputated.
"My uncle's losing that arm scared me a little. I was then about ten
years old, and I made up my mind I wouldn't drink much more. But the
stuff tasted good to me and I didn't want to break off entirely. So I
continued to drink a little and then a little more, until I thought I
couldn't have my dinner without wine, or something like that, to go
with it."
"When I was about thirteen a lady I knew well gave a New Year's party
to a lot of young folks, and I was invited. I was one of the youngest
boys there. The lady had punch, set out in a big cut-glass bowl on a
stand in a corner of the hall, with sandwiches and cake alongside. I
tried that punch and liked it, and I drank so much that I got noisy,
and the lady had to send me home in her carriage."
"I guess that woke my father up to the fact that matters were going too
far, and he told me I mustn't drink liquor away from home. He couldn't
stop me from drinking at our house, for he had it himself there. But
he had helped me to get the appetite, and I couldn't stop. On the next
Fourth of July I spent my money in a tavern some distance away from
where we lived, and there some rascals--I can't call them men--treated
me liberally, just to see me make a fool of myself, I suppose. The
fellows teased me until I got in a rage and I took up a bottle and
cracked it to pieces over one fellow's head, injuring him badly.
"This brought matters to a climax and my father told me he was going to
send me to boarding school. I did not want to go at first, but he said
he felt sure it would do me good, and finally I went to Sandville, and
then came to Oak Hall.
"At first all went well, for I saw no liquor and got little chance to
get any, but after a while the appetite forced itself on me once more,
and--and you know what followed."
As Gus Plum concluded he covered his face with his hands and looked the
picture of misery and despair. Dave had sunk down on the rock beside
him and he placed a hand on the other's shoulder.
"Is that all, Gus?" he asked, quietly.
"About all," was the low answer. "But I want you to know one thing
more, Dave. When you went away to Europe I intended to keep my promise
and make a man of myself. I got along all right at first, but one
Saturday afternoon Link Merwell asked me to go to Rockville with him."
"Merwell!"
"Yes. I don't care for him much, yet he was very friendly and I said
I'd go. We visited a place where they have a poolroom in the rear,
and he urged me to play pool with him, and I did. Then he offered
me a cigar, and finally he treated to liquor. I said I had stopped
drinking, but he laughed at me and held a glass of strong stuff to my
face and dared me to take it,--said I was a baby to refuse. And I took
it,--and then I treated him, and we both took too much. I came back to
school alone, for we got into a row when he spoke of you and said mean
things about you. When I got to Oak Hall I might have gotten into more
trouble, only Shadow Hamilton cared for me, as maybe you know. Merwell
wasn't under the influence of liquor very much, but he had enough to be
ugly, and he got into a row with Mr. Dale and came pretty near to being
sent home. Then he had another row with the teacher and went off on his
vacation. He somehow blamed Phil Lawrence, but Phil had nothing to do
with it."
"Yes, Phil wrote to me about that last row," answered Dave. "But to
come back to yourself, Gus." His face grew sober. "You've certainly had
a hard time of it, and, somehow, I don't think you alone are to blame
for all that has happened. I have no appetite for liquor, but I think
I can understand something of what it means. But let me tell you one
thing." Dave's voice grew intensely earnest. "It's all nonsense to say
you are not going to reform--that you can't do it. You can reform if
you'll only use your whole will power."
"But look at what I've tried already!" Plum's tone was utterly
hopeless. "Oh, you don't know how I've fought against it! People who
haven't any appetite for liquor don't know anything about it. It's like
a snake around your neck strangling you!"
"Well, I wouldn't give up--not as long as I had any backbone left. Just
make up your mind from this minute on that you won't touch another drop
of any kind, no matter who offers it. Don't say to yourself, 'Oh, I'll
take a little now and then, and let it go at that.' Break off clean and
clear,--and keep away from all places where liquor is sold."
"Yes, but----" Plum's voice was as hopeless as before.
"No 'buts' about it, Gus. I want you to make a man of yourself. You can
do it if you'll only try. Won't you try?--for your own sake--for my
sake--for the honor of Oak Hall? Say yes, and then thrust liquor out of
your mind forever--don't even let yourself think of it. Get interested
in your studies, in skating, boating, gymnastics, baseball,--anything.
Before you know it, you'll have a death grip on that habit and it will
have to die."
"Do you really believe that, Dave?"
"I do. Why, look at it--some men right down in the gutter have
reformed, and they didn't possess any more backbone than you. All you
want to do is to exert your will power. Fight the thing just as you
used to fight me and some of the other fellows, and let that fight be
one to a finish. Now, come, what do you say?"
"I'll fight!" cried Gus Plum, leaping to his feet and with a new light
shining in his eyes. "I'll fight! Oh, Dave, you're a wonderful fellow,
to put new backbone in me! I felt I had to give up--that I couldn't win
out, that everything was against me. Now I'll do as you say. I won't
even think of liquor again, and I won't go where I can get it."
"Give me your hand on that, Gus." The pair shook hands. "Now let us
continue our skate. Perhaps we'll meet Shadow and Chip. I know they'll
be glad to hear of what you intend to do. They want you to turn over a
new leaf just as much as I do. And after this, take my advice and drop
Link Merwell."
"I'll do it. As I said, I never cared much for him."
The two left the spot where the conversation had ensued and skated up
the river for a considerable distance. As they disappeared another
youth stole forth from behind some bushes near by and skated off in the
opposite direction. The youth was Link Merwell.
"So that was the trouble with Gus Plum last night, and that is what he
has got to say about me!" muttered the bully, savagely. "Well, I am
glad I know so much of his history--it may come useful some time! He
may get under Dave Porter's wing, but I am not done with him yet--nor
done with Porter either!"
It was not long before Dave and Plum met Shadow, and a little later the
three saw Chip Macklin. All four went off in a bunch, and Dave with
much tact told of what Gus proposed to do.
"It is very nice of you to keep this a secret," said Plum. "I shall
always remember it, and if I can ever do anything for any of you I'll
do it. You are all good friends, and Dave is the best fellow I ever
met!"
They skated on for fully a mile, the fine snow pelting them in the
face. But nobody minded this, for all felt happy: Plum to think that he
was going to have another chance to redeem himself, and the others over
the consciousness that they had done a fellow-being some good.
"Time to get home!" cried Shadow, looking at his watch. "What do you
say to a race back?"
"How much of a start will you give me?" asked Chip. "I've got no chance
otherwise against you big fellows."
"We'll give you fifteen seconds," answered Dave. "One, two, three--go!"
Soon the race was on in earnest. Chip Macklin was well in the lead and
the others started in a bunch. Gradually Shadow went ahead of Dave and
Gus Plum, but then Plum drew closer, and when they reached the school
dock, Plum and Dave were a tie, with Shadow and Chip close on their
heels.
"That puts new life in a fellow!" declared Dave. "Gus, you came pretty
near to beating me."
"Your wind is better than mine," was the answer. Plum felt he might
have won had it not been for the dissipation of the day previous.
Dissipation and athletic supremacy of any kind never go well together.
A week slipped by quietly and during that time Dave, Roger, and Phil
got the chance to go rabbit hunting and brought in twelve rabbits. Gus
Plum stuck to his resolve to do better, and during school hours gave
his studies all his attention. When not thus employed he spent his time
in skating, snowballing, and in the gymnasium. He avoided Link Merwell,
and for the time being the bully left him alone.
During those days Dave received a letter from his sister Laura, to
whom he had written after his talk with Merwell. Laura stated that all
was going along finely at the Wadsworth home and that their father was
thinking seriously of buying a fine mansion located across the street,
which would keep the friends together. She added that she had received
a letter from Link Merwell and had sent it back, writing across the
top, "Please do not send any more."
"No wonder Merwell looks so sour," mused Dave, after reading his
sister's communication. "I suppose he is mad enough at me to chew me
up."
As my old readers know, there was at Oak Hall a secret society known
as the Gee Eyes, this name standing for the initials G. I., which in
their turn stood for the words Guess It. The society was kept up almost
solely for the fun of initiating new members. On coming to the school
Dave had had to submit to a strenuous initiation, which he had accepted
without a murmur. All his chums were members, and the boys had gotten
much fun out of the organization.
"Call for a special meeting of the Gee Eyes to-night," said Ben
Basswood, one afternoon. "Going to initiate three new members--Tom
Atwood and the Soden brothers. Be on hand early, at the old boathouse."
"What are we going to do to 'em?" asked Dave, with a grin.
"That is something Sam, Buster, and some of the others want to talk
over. They'd like to do something brand-new."
"I think I can tell them of one thing to try," said Dave.
"What?"
"Make one of 'em think he is crossing Jackson's Gully on a narrow
board."
"Good, Dave; that will do first-rate!" cried Ben. "I hope we can think
of two other things equally good."
About an hour later Dave met some of the others, and a general
discussion regarding the initiations for that evening took place. A
score of "stunts" were suggested, and at last three were selected, and
the committee got ready to carry out their plans.
Link Merwell was not a member of the Gee Eyes. He had once been
proposed and been rejected, which had made him very angry. In some
manner he heard of the proposed initiations, and he did his best to
learn what was going on. As we know, he was not above playing the
eavesdropper, and now he followed Dave and his friends to learn their
secrets.
"So that is what they are up to," he said. "Well, let them go ahead.
Perhaps I can put a spoke in their wheel when they least expect it!"
And then he chuckled to himself as he thought of a plan to make the
initiations end in disaster.