JOHNNY DOYLE
Franklin Sharp, principal of Central High, had something particular to
say that morning at Assembly. At eight-thirty o'clock the gongs rang
in each room and the classes marched to the hall as usual. But there
was an unusual amount of excitement, especially on the girls' side of
the great hall.
The news Bobby Hargrew had brought to Nellie Agnew had spread over the
Hill long before schooltime. Bobby, running from house to house, had
scattered the news like burning brands; and wherever she dropped a
spark a flame of excitement had sprung up and spread.
And how many of the girls had whispered the same thing! What Hester
Grimes had said the previous afternoon had been heard by a dozen
girls; a hundred had learned of it before the gymnasium had cleared
that afternoon; now the whole school--on the girls' side, at least--knew
that Hester had declared her hatred of the girls of Central High
before the damage was done in the gymnasium.
This gossip could not fail to have flown to Principal Sharp's ears. He
was eminently a just man; but he seldom interfered in the girls'
affairs, preferring to let his assistant, Miss Grace G. Carrington
(otherwise "Gee Gee" among the more thoughtless of her pupils) govern
the young ladies. But what the principal said on this occasion seemed
to point to the fact that he had taken cognizance of the wild
supposition and gossip that was going the round of the girl's classes.
"A cruel and expensive trick has been perpetrated by some
irresponsible person with pronounced criminal instincts," declared Mr.
Sharp, seriously. "This is not the outburst of some soul prone to
practical joking, so-called; nor is it the mere impish mischievousness
of a spirit with a grudge against its fellows. The infamous actions of
the person, or persons, in the girls' gymnasium last night show
degeneracy and a monkeyish wickedness that can be condoned in no
particular.
"We can declare with confidence that no pupil of Central High could
have accomplished the wicked work of last night. It would have been
beyond the physical powers of any of our young ladies to have broken
into the building; and we are equally confident that no young
gentleman on our roster is at that early stage of evolution in which
he would consider such work at all amusing.
"Of course, there will be an investigation made--not alone by the
school authorities, but by the police. The matter is too serious to
ignore. The damage done amounts to several hundreds of dollars. And
the mystery of how the culprit or culprits entered the building, with
the doors and windows locked and Jackway asleep in his bed in the
doctor's office, must likewise be explained.
"Meanwhile, young ladies and gentlemen, let no wild romances or
unsubstantiated rumors shake your minds. We none of us know how the
criminal entered the gymnasium, or who he is. Let the matter rest
there until the investigation is completed and the actual wrong-doer
brought to book. I hope I make myself clear? That is all. You are
dismissed to classes."
But, to himself, perhaps the principal said: "Meanwhile I will go out
and stop the water from running down hill!" For the gossip having once
begun to grow, there was no stopping it. Some of the girls had already
begun to look askance at Hester when they passed her. Others
whispered, and wondered, and surmised--and the wonder grew like the
story of the man who ate the three black crows.
Hester, however, did not realize what all this meant. She was still
angry with Nellie, and Bobby, and the others whom she considered had
crossed her the previous afternoon. And especially was she angry with
Mrs. Case, the physical instructor.
"I don't much care if the stuff in the gymnasium _was_ all cut up,"
she declared, to her single confidant, Lily Pendleton.
"Oh, Hester! Don't let them hear you say it!" cried her chum, who had
heard some of the whispers against Hester, but had not dared repeat
them to her chum for fear of an outbreak of the latter's unfortunate
temper.
"What do I care for 'em?" returned Hester, and went off by herself.
Hester Grimes was not entirely happy. She would not admit it in her
own soul, but she was lonely. Even Lily was not always at her beck and
call as she once had been. To tell the truth, Lily Pendleton seemed
suddenly to have "a terrible crush" on Prettyman Sweet.
"And goodness only knows what she sees in that freak to want to walk
with him," muttered Hester, in retrospection.
Lily and Purt were pupils in the same dancing class and just at
present dancing was "all the rage." Hester did not care for
dancing--not even for the folk dancing that Mrs. Case taught the girls
of Central High. She liked more vigorous exercises. She played a sharp
game of tennis, played hockey well, was a good walker and runner, and
liked basketball as well as she liked anything.
"And here these Miss Smarties and Mrs. Case want to put me off the
team," thought Hester Grimes, walking down toward the athletic field
and the gym. building after school that day.
There was little to go to the gym. for just now, with the fixtures cut
up and broken. But Hester felt a curiosity to see the wreck. And there
were other girls from Central High who seemed to feel the same. Some
were ahead of her and some came after. They exclaimed and murmured and
were angry or excited, as the case might be; but Hester mooned about
in silence, and the only soul she spoke to in the building was Bill
Jackway.
The latter looked very much worried. He was a steady, quiet,
red-haired man, with pale blue eyes and a wandering expression of
countenance at most times. But he was a good and careful worker and
kept the athletic field in good shape and the gym. well swept and
dusted.
Jackway had never been married; but his sister had married a man named
Doyle and was now a widow with two children. When Jackway got an hour
or two off from the gym. he went to see his sister, and played with
the baby, Johnny. Johnny, who was a sturdy little fellow of three, had
been brought to-day to see his uncle by his gangling big brother, Rufe
Doyle. Rufe was a second edition of his uncle, Bill Jackway, without
Bill's modicum of sense. A glance at Rufe told the pitiful story. As
his Irish father had said, Rufe was "an innocent." But he loved Baby
Johnny and took great care of him.
"Johnny's growing like a weed, Rufie," said Hester, kindly enough, as
she pinched the little fellow's cheek softly. "You take such good care
of him."
Rufe threw back his head, opened his mouth wide, and roared his
delight at this compliment.
"Yes, ma'am!" he chuckled, when his paroxysm was over. "Johnny ain't
much out of my sight when he's awake. Is he, Uncle Bill?"
"No, Rufus," replied Jackway, sadly.
"I'm pretty smart to take care of Johnny so well--ain't I, Uncle Bill?"
demanded the weak-minded boy again.
"You are smart enough when you want to be, Rufus," muttered Jackway,
evidently in no very social mood.
"You're worried about what happened last night, aren't you?" demanded
Hester, sharply.
"Yes, ma'am; I be," admitted the watchman.
"You needn't be. They'll never blame you," returned Hester, brusquely,
and went out.
She wandered into the park at the foot of Whiffle Street and sat down.
Here Rufus Doyle followed her with Baby Johnny. There had been heavy
rains for the past week--until the day before. The gutters had run full
and the park squad of "white wings" were raking the beaten leaves into
windrows and flushing the sand and debris into the sewers. One basin
cover had been laid back and left an open trap for unwary feet.
Rufus Doyle was trying to coax a gray squirrel near for Johnny to
admire. But Johnny was not particularly interested in bunny. Hester
saw the toddler near the open hatch of the sewer basin one moment; the
next he had disappeared, and it seemed to her as though a faint cry
rang in her ears.
She leaped up from the bench.
"Johnny!" she called.
Rufus was still engaged with the squirrel. Nobody seemed to have
noticed the disappearance of the baby. Hester dashed to the open basin
and peered down into the swirling brown water.