DICK'S TURN TO GET A JOLT
"Ripley, you don't realize what you are saying!" cried Dr. Thornton,
gazing at the sophomore in very evident distress.
"I only know that I'm all broken up, sir, over losing my costly
pin," persisted Fred. "And I know my father will be angry, and
will raise a row at the School Board's meeting."
Dick Prescott, standing by, had turned from scarlet to white,
and back again.
"But Ripley," explained the principal, almost pleadingly, "the
act would be illegal. No one has a lawful right to search the
person of anyone except a properly qualified police officer.
And even the police officer can do so only after he has arrested
a suspected person."
"Oh, then I suppose, sir, there's no show for me to get any real
justice done in this matter," muttered Fred, with an air of feigned
resignation.
But by now Dick Prescott felt that he must speak---or explode.
"Dr. Thornton," he cried, chokingly, "the charge made against
me, or, at least, implied, is an outrageous one. But, as a matter
of justice to me, now that the hint has been cast, I ask that
_you_, sir, search me right here and now."
"Then you've had time to hide the pin!" muttered Fred, in a very
low voice.
Dick Prescott heard, but he paid no heed to the fellow.
"Dr. Thornton, will you search me---_now_?" insisted the young
freshman.
"But I don't want to, Prescott," appealed the principal. "I haven't
the remotest suspicion of you, anyway, my dear boy."
"I ask the search, sir, just as a matter of justice," Dick insisted.
"If it were not too strong a word, then I would say that I _demand_
to be searched here and now."
Suiting the action to the word, Dick Prescott, standing proudly
erect, raised both arms over his head.
"Now, please, doctor, just as a matter of simple justice," begged
the young freshman.
"Oh, very well, then, Mr. Prescott," sighed the principal. "But
I never had a more distasteful task."
Into one of the side pockets Dr. Thornton projected a shaking
hand. He drew out only some scraps of paper, which he promptly
thrust back. Then he inserted a hand in the jacket pocket on
the other side.
"Ouch!" suddenly exclaimed the principal, in very real pain.
He drew the hand out, quickly. A drop of blood oozed up at the
tip of his forefinger.
"Mr. Prescott," demanded Dr. Thornton, "what is that pointed object
in your pocket?"
"_What_?" demanded Fred Ripley, tensely.
Dick himself thrust a hand into that pocket, and drew forth---Fred
Ripley's missing pin.
"What---why---who-----" gasped the freshman, suffocatingly.
"Oh, yes, of course," jeered Fred Ripley. "Astonished, aren't
you---you mucker?"
The last two words Ripley uttered in so low a tone that the principal,
gazing in horrified fascination at the pin that he now held in
his own hands, did not hear.
"You coward!" cried Dick, hotly, and clenched his fist, intent
on driving it against the sophomore's face.
But Dr. Thornton knew enough about High School boys' fights, to
galvanize himself into action. Like a flash he bounded between
the two boys.
"Here, here, Prescott, none of that!" he admonished.
"I---I beg _your_ pardon, sir," gasped Dick, in a tone which made
it very plain that he did not include his enemy in that apology.
"May I trouble you for my pin, sir, now that it has been recovered?"
asked Fred, coolly.
"Why---um!---that depends," replied Dr. Thornton, slowly, speaking
with a painful effort. "If you, or your father, have or would
have any idea of a criminal prosecution, Ripley, then it would
be improper to return your pin. It would have to be turned over
to the police as an exhibit in evidence. _But_ do you intend
anything of that sort, Mr. Ripley?"
"Why, that's as _you_ say, doctor," replied the sophomore, quickly.
"It's a matter of school discipline, and belongs to your province.
Personally, I know that I would rather not have this matter go
any further."
"I---I don't know what to do," confessed Dr. Thornton, in anxious
perplexity. "In any event, before doing anything, I think I had
better consult the superintendent and the Board of Education.
Mr. Prescott, I will say, freely, that I am most loath to believe
anything of this sort against you can be possible. There must
be---must be---some---er explanation. I---I---don't want you
to feel that I believe your guilt as yet assured. I---I-----"
Here Dr. Thornton broke down, dabbing at his eyes with his
handkerchief. Almost unconsciously he passed the pin, which he
was yet holding, to Fred Ripley.
"Lock the locker door, Mr. Prescott---and give me the key,"
requested the principal.
Dick passed over the key, then spoke, with more composure than
might have been expected under the circumstances:
"Dr. Thornton, I am as innocent of any thieving as you yourself
can be. Sooner or later the right of this will come out. Then
you will realize that I didn't steal anything. I'll prove myself
innocent yet, sir."
"I hope so, my boy, I---I---hope so," replied the principal.
As they ascended, Fred Ripley stepped aside to let the other two
go first. He was afraid to have Dick Prescott behind him just
then.
No sooner had the trio entered the general assembly room than
it quickly dawned on all the students of both sexes that something
was unusually wrong.
Dick's face was red as fire. Had he been guilty of the thefts,
he might have been cooler about it all. Conscious innocence often
puts on the appearance of guilt.
Somehow, Dick got to his seat. He picked up a book, mechanically,
and pretended to be deeply absorbed in study.
"What's up?" whispered the fellow seated behind Fred.
Ripley turned enough to raise his eyebrows significantly and let
his questioner see him do it. Instantly all seated near the lawyer's
son became intensely curious.
Wondering glances strayed from over book-tops, even from the far
corners of the big assembly room.
Then the curious glanced at Dr. Thornton so often that the much
disturbed principal soon called another teacher to the desk and
left the room.
At recess, Purcell, of the sophomore class, was found in charge
at the door of Dick's old locker room. Ripley held his tongue
until he was out in the school yard. Then he broke loose before
those who would listen to him---and the number was large.
Dick & Co. had gathered by themselves in another corner of the
yard. Here, however, they were soon joined by a small mob of
the fellows, especially of the freshman class. Dick had his say.
He didn't want to say much, but he related, in a straightforward
way, what had happened.
"It's one of Fred Ripley's mean tricks," declared one of the freshmen.
"Fred Ripley can't fool anyone. He put that pin in Dick's pocket
himself."
"But two thefts---two things were missed last week, when Ripley
wasn't at school at all," spoke one boy, in an undertone.
"Yes; that's the queer part of it," agreed another boy. "Ripley
couldn't have had anything to do with those other cases."
This latter was the view that was occurring to Mr. Thornton, as
he sat in the principal's room, poring and pondering over the
whole distressing matter.
Thompson and the other football leaders came trooping over to
Dick & Co. as soon as they heard the noise. Prescott was a hero
with the football crowd. There was no use in telling them anything
against their little freshie hero.
"Prescott, it would look foolish to talk much," declared Thompson,
in a voice that was husky from real emotion. "Just give me your
hand, old man!"
Dick took the proffered hand, pressing it hard and gratefully.
Then the rest of the football squad pressed forward, each insisting
on a hearty handshake.
"Nobody except those who want to, will stomach this silly charge
against Dick," grunted Tom Reade to Dan Dalzell. "See how it's
turning out? Our old pal and leader is holding a regular reception."
"'Scuse me," begged Dan, hastily. "There's Laura Bentley beckoning
to me."
He hastened over to the girl's side. There were tiny drops in
the corners of Laura's eyes that looked like suppressed tears.
"Dan," she said, coming straight to the point, "we have heard,
of course. What a silly charge! See here, you pals of Dick's
are going to walk home with him from school this noon?"
"Surest thing that ever happened in the world," declared Dalzell,
fervently.
"Just so," nodded Laura. "Well, if you won't think it strange
or forward, six of us girls want to walk along with you boys.
That will be a hint that the freshman class, if not the whole
H.S., passes a vote of confidence in Dick Prescott, the most
straightforward fellow in the class or the school."
"Bully for you, Miss Bentley!" glowed Dan. "We shall be looking
for you young ladies when school lets out."
When the outside bell rang for reassembling, such a guard of honor
had chosen to gather around Dick, and march in with him, that
it looked more like a triumphal procession.
"I feel better," sighed the boy, contentedly to himself, as he
dropped into his seat. "What a bully thing a little confidence
is!"
When school let out, Dick & Co., each partner escorting one of
the freshman girls, strolled down the street. A good many more
of the students chose to drop in behind them. Dick could say
nothing, but his heart swelled with pride.
"The way to get famous and respected, nowadays, is to steal something,
and to get found out," sneered Fred Ripley, bitterly, to Clara
Deane.
Straight to his own door did some two score in all of the Gridley
H.S. students escort Dick Prescott.
"Three cheers for Dick!" proposed some one.
"And for Dick and Co.!" shouted another voice.
The cheers were given with gusto. So much noise was made, in
fact, that Mrs. Prescott came to open the door.
Something in his mother's face---a look of dread and alarm---spoiled
the cheering for Dick. As soon as he could he got inside the
house.
Little did the young freshman suspect the ordeal that awaited
him here.