shotguns, brickbats, Japanese swords and what not, and rushed
downstairs, shouting:
"Stop thief!"
Mr. Tapping, startled from his slumbers by the uproar, seized a
bird-gun and, guided by Hungry Smeed and the Red Dog, rushed out of
doors and valorously took the lead of the searching party. By this time
the racket had spread about the campus and boys in flimsy garments,
ludicrously armed, came pouring out the other houses and joined the
wild hunt for the masked marauders. Suddenly, from the direction of
Foundation House, a series of shots exploded amid yells of excitement.
At once the mass that had been churning in the middle of the campus,
set off with a rush. The cry went up that the burglars had been
discovered and were fleeing down the road to Trenton. Five minutes
later the campus was silent, as boys and masters swept along the
highway, their cries growing fainter in the distance.
Meanwhile, Hickey had not lost a second. Hardly had Mr. Tapping's pink
pajamas rushed from the Dickinson, when Hickey, entering the study,
locked the door and set to work. In a jiffy he had the mattress and
bedclothes out the window, down into the waiting hands of Macnooder
and the Egghead, who piled them on a ready wheelbarrow. In less than
five minutes the iron bedstead, separated into its four component
parts, followed. The whole, packed on the wheelbarrow, was hastily
rushed into the darkness by the rollicking three. According to the
plan, Hickey directed them past Memorial and into the baseball cage,
where, by the light of the indispensable dark-lantern, they put the bed
together, placed on it the bedding, and saw Hickey crawl blissfully
under cover.
* * * * *
When Mr. Tapping returned after an hour's fruitless pursuit down
the dusty road, it had begun to dawn upon him, in common with other
athletic members of the faculty, that he had been hoaxed. Mr. Tapping
was very sensitive to his dignity, and dignity was exceedingly
difficult in pajamas, in the chill of a night with a ridiculous
bird-gun over his shoulder and an assorted lot of semi-bare savages
chuckling about him. Tired, covered with dust, and sheepish, he
returned to the Dickinson, gave orders for every one to return to his
room and wearily toiled up to seek his comfortable bed.
The vacancy that greeted his eyes left him absolutely incredulous,
then beside himself with rage. If on that moment he could have laid
his hands on Hickey, he would have done him bodily injury. That Hickey
was the perpetrator of this new outrage, as of the previous ones, he
never for a moment doubted. His instinct needed no proofs, and in such
enmities the instinct is strong. He went directly to Hickey's room,
finding it, as he had expected, empty. He sat there half an hour, an
hour, fruitlessly. Then he made the rounds of the house and returned to
the room, seated himself, folded his arms violently, set his teeth and
prepared to wait. He heard four o'clock strike, then five, and he began
to nod. He rose, shook himself, returned to his seat and presently fell
asleep, and in this condition Hickey, returning, found him.
* * * * *
The bell rang six, and Mr. Tapping, starting up guiltily, glanced
hastily at the bed and assured himself thankfully that it was empty.
Moreover, conclusive evidence, the counterpane had not been turned
down, so Hickey had not gone to bed at all.
By prodigies of will power he remained awake, consoled by the fact
that he held at last the evidence needed to debarrass himself of his
tormentor. At seven o'clock the gym bell rang the rising hour. Mr.
Tapping rose triumphant. Suddenly he stopped and looked down in horror.
Something had moved under the bed. The next moment Hickey's face
appeared under the skirts of the trailing bedspread--Hickey's face, a
mirror of sleepy amazement, as he innocently asked:
"Why, Mr. Tapping, what is the matter?"
"Hicks!" exclaimed Mr. Tapping, too astounded to gather his thoughts,
"is that you, Hicks?"
"Yes, sir."
"What are you doing under there?"
"Please sir," said Hickey, "I'm troubled with insomnia and sometimes
this is the only way I can sleep."
* * * * *
At two o'clock Hickey was a second time summoned to Foundation House.
He went in perfect faith. Nothing had miscarried, there was not the
slightest evidence against him. If he was questioned he would refuse to
answer--that was all. It had been a morning of exquisite triumph for
him. Tabby's bed had not been discovered until ten o'clock, and the
transferal to the Dickinson, made in full daylight, had been witnessed
by the assembled school. He went across the campus, light of feet and
proud of heart, aware of the scores of discreetly admiring eyes that
followed him, hearing pleasantly the murmurs which buzzed after him:
"Oh, you prodigious Hickey--oh, you daredevil!"
Of course, the Doctor would be in a towering rage. Hickey was not
unreasonable, he understood and expected a natural exhibition of
vexation. What could the Doctor do, after all? Ask him questions which
he would refuse to answer--that was all, but that was not evidence.
He found the Doctor alone, quietly writing at his desk, and received a
smile and an invitation to be seated. Somehow the tranquillity of the
head master's attitude did not reassure Hickey. He would have preferred
a little more agitation, but this satisfied calm was disquieting.
He stood with his hands behind his back, twirling his cap, studying the
photographs of Grecian architecture on the walls, finding it awfully
still and wishing the Doctor would begin.
Presently the Doctor turned, put down his spectacles, shoved back from
the desk and glanced at Hickey with a smile, saying:
"Well, Hicks, we're going to let you go."
"Beg your pardon, sir," said Hickey, smiling frankly back, "you
said----"
"We're going to let you take a vacation."
"Me?"
"You."
Hickey stood a long moment, open-mouthed, staring.
"Do you mean to say," he said, at last, with an effort, "that I am
expelled?"
"Not expelled," said the Doctor, suavely, "we don't like that word;
we're going to let you go, that's all."
"For what reason?" said Hickey, defiantly.
"For no reason at all," answered the Doctor, smoothly. "There is no
reason, there can be no reason, Hicks. We're just naturally going to
make up our minds to part with you. You see, Hicks," he continued,
tilting back and gazing reminiscently at the ceiling, "we've had
a rather agitated session here, rather extraordinary. The trouble
seems to have broken out in the Dickinson about the time of the
little surprise party at which Mr. Tapping did not assist! Then a
few days later our chapel service was disturbed and our janitor put
to considerable trouble; next the school routine was thrown into
confusion by the removal of the clapper. We passed a very disagreeable
period--much confusion, very little study, and the nerves of the
faculty were thrown into such a state that even you, Hicks, were
suspected.
[Illustration: "'He hadn't any proof,' he said, brokenly, 'no
proof--damn him!'"]
Then there was the political campaign, a subject too painful to
analyse. Last night we lost a great deal of sleep--and sleep is most
necessary to the growing boy. All these events have followed with great
regularity, and while they have not lacked in picturesqueness, we have,
we fear, been forgetting the main object of our life here--to study a
little."
"Doctor, I----" broke in Hickey.
"No, Hicks, you misunderstand me," said the Doctor, reproachfully. "All
this is true, but that is not why we are going to let you go. We are
going to let you go, Hicks, for a much more conscientious reason; we're
parting with you, Hicks, because we feel we no longer have anything to
teach you."
"Doctor, I'd like to know," began Hickey, with a great lump in his
throat. Then he stopped and looked at the floor. He knew his hour had
sounded.
"Hicks, we part in sorrow," said the Doctor, "but we have the greatest
faith in your career. We expect in a few years to claim you as one of
our foremost alumni. Perhaps some day you will give us a library which
we will name after you. No, don't be disheartened. We have the greatest
admiration for your talents, admiration and respect. Anyone who can
persuade two hundred and fifty keen-eyed Lawrenceville boys to pay
one dollar apiece for silver gilt scrap-iron souvenirs worth eleven
cents apiece because they may or may not be genuine bits of a stolen
clapper--anyone who can do that is needed in the commercial development
of our country."
"Doctor, do you--do you call this justice?" said Hickey, with tears in
his voice.
"No," said the Doctor, frankly, "I call it a display of force. You see,
Hicks, you've beaten us at every point, and so all we can do is to let
you go."
"I'll hire a lawyer," said Hicks, brokenly.
"I thought you would," said the Doctor, "only I hope you will be easy
on us, Hicks, for we haven't much money for damage suits."
"Then I'm to be fired," said Hickey, forcing back the tears, "fired
just for nothing!"
"Just for nothing, Hicks," assented the Doctor, rising to close the
painful interview, "and, Hicks, as one last favour, we would like to
request that it be by the evening train. We have lost a great deal of
sleep lately."
"Just for nothing," repeated Hickey, hoarsely.
"Just for nothing," replied the Doctor, as he closed the door.
* * * * *
At six o'clock, in the midst of indignant hundreds, Hickey climbed to
the top of the stage, where his trunks had already been deposited.
Nothing could comfort him, neither the roaring cheers that echoed
again and again to his name, nor the hundreds of silent hand-shakes or
muttered vows to continue the good fight. His spirit was broken. All
was dark before him. Neither right nor justice existed in the world.
Egghead and Macnooder, visibly affected, reached up for the last
hand-shakes.
"Keep a stiff upper lip, old man," said the Egghead.
"Don't you worry, Hickey, old boy," said Macnooder; "we'll attend to
Tabby."
Then Hickey, bitterly, from the caverns of his heart, spoke, raising
his fist toward Tabby's study window.
"He hadn't any proof," he said, brokenly, "no proof--damn him!"
Transcriber's notes:
Different spelling of 'education' and 'ed-u-cation' results from
different accentuation in the text.
Different spelling of 'educational' and 'ed-u-cational' results from
different accentuation in the text.
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