The senior said, "No, I thank you," and then contradicted himself,
"Yes, I will take a little of that." He did not approve of little boys
having whiskey in their rooms and big cut-glass decanters on their
bookcases, but he remembered something. "That's good whiskey,
Thompson." Lawrence sipped and whiffed and held his glass to the
light, "excellent whiskey." He gravely smacked his lips. "It reminds
me of some Bourbon they once gave us down in Kentucky, on the Glee
Club trip--in Louisville, I think it was. They called it Pendennis
Club."
Thompson pushed a cigarette-case across the table. "That's Pendennis
Club," he replied, simply. "A friend of mine down there sends it to
me. I find you can't get good liquor in our part of the country. It's
all rot-gut." He twisted his pretty brows into a scowl and emptied his
small lungs of smoke aimed at the ceiling.
"I see," said Lawrence, looking interested.
"You know what they say about Kentucky," the freshman proceeded, "for
good whiskey, fast horses, and pretty women."
"Yes," said Lawrence.
The freshman refilled his guest's glass with Pendennis Club and his
own lungs with cigarette-smoke, which he allowed to seek the free air
of the room slowly, with his head tipped back and a mouth twisted
scornfully as he had once seen another devil of a fellow do it, who
said, "I don't give a damn for the girl." All of which was lost on
Lawrence, who was rubbing his chin and looking in the other direction
and wishing he had not come.
"By the way, Thompson, speaking of horses, how did you come out
playing the races last fall? I often saw you on the train going up--"
this was a lie--"when I was slaving over football. Luck stay by you?"
Then the freshman leaned back and said things about Futurity Stakes
and plunging at Morris Park and a lucky sixteen-to-one shot,
intermingled with a brave lot of profanity and considerable cigarette
smoke. Lawrence wore the look of a man listening, and thought up what
to say next.
"By the way, Thompson," only it was not by the way to anything but his
own thoughts, "where's your friend Darnell? I didn't see him with the
others in here."
"No," said the devil of a fellow, "he won't own up to it, but he's a
good bit of a poler at heart, Lawrence."
"I did not think it of him," said Lawrence, sincerely. "He's a blame
nice fellow though, isn't he?"
"Right. He's the best friend I have. He's pretty young and has a lot
of things to learn, but he's a mighty nice man. Awfully clever chap,
too. Wish I had his brains. I believe he comes from very nice people
in New York, doesn't he?"
"Yes. Thompson, you are dead right in saying he's too young."
A beam of pleasure shot across his young host's face, which was seen
by Lawrence, who now felt all right, and began to talk.
"He's entirely too young, Thompson, and the deuce of it is that he
doesn't realize how very young he is. A fellow like that never does.
You know what I mean. And as far as I can see--I think you had the
same thing in mind a moment ago--he is about to make a fool of himself
unless he is very careful. He's entirely too nice a fellow, Thompson,
for anything like that to happen." Lawrence leaned back and put his
feet on the table.
"You see," he continued, "Darnell tries to do things that you fellows
do, who are more mature, and he doesn't seem to realize that he is
only a boy. Now with you and me it is different. We are older and know
things and have been around a bit and-- You know what I mean. We can
do a lot of things and have a good time and be none the worse for it,
but as for Darnell, why, he's a kid, Thompson, a mere kid."
Thompson breathed cigarettes and looked judicial.
Lawrence moved his chair around so that he could lean an elbow on the
table. He looked at the fire through the glass of liquid in his hand.
"Thompson, I'm in a hole. A bad hole, too. I'm going to tell you
about it and maybe ask your advice. I don't mind telling you because I
know you can keep your mouth shut. I came here this evening for that
very purpose.
"You know I know Darnell's people and all that. Well, I know his
sister quite well." That happened to be a lie. "And last commencement
when she was down here she asked me to look after her brother when he
entered in the fall." That happened to be true, though Lawrence had
forgotten it. "She's a pretty good friend of mine, and whenever I see
her"--he could not have distinguished her from the other little girls
in the school up-town--"she always asks me about her brother. And,
well, Thompson, a fellow hates to lie to a respectable woman, you
know."
"Only a cad will lie to a decent girl," said the other,
sympathetically.
"Certainly. Now, Thompson, I'll tell you what I think I'll do. I am
going to very frankly ask you to help me out of this hole." Lawrence
looked closely at the freshman. Then he went on, talking rapidly now
with his eyebrows tucked down and the words coming between his teeth.
Thompson had seen him do it before and had practised it in his room
alone.
"You can do it or not, just as you please, but you are the only one
whom I'd care to ask to do it. You are the only one I'd trust with it.
In fact, you are the only one that _could_ do it. Thompson, you know
yourself that you have more influence over Darnell than any man in the
class."
"Oh, I don't know," the freshman feebly protested.
"Well I do. He has as much as told me so. I am going to ask you very
frankly to-- I don't know what your views are," the senior interrupted
himself, "but I believe in having all the fun in the world I can for
myself as long as I mind my own business. But I'd just as soon, when I
have the chance--" Lawrence looked down at the whiskey which he was
gently swishing around in his glass. He made his voice sound as if
embarrassed. "Well, dammit, I'm no saint, but you know it says
somewhere that saving one soul will wipe out a multitude of sins or
something of that sort."
"God knows we have enough of them," said the devil of a fellow, who
now hurled the butt of his cigarette at the fire and arose from his
seat. He threw back his head and spoke.
"Lawrence, you needn't say any more. I can give you my answer now." He
plunged his hands in his pockets and began striding up and down the
room and scowled as he strode.
"Lawrence, I am a peculiar man, and I think my own thoughts and lead
my own life according to my own ideas. I keep this room here open to
everyone who desires to enter. My whiskey and tobacco is anybody's who
wants it. And as long as my guests mind their own business my room is
theirs. But when certain members of my class, certain milksops and
sanctimonious Gospel sharks come up here and tell me that I am doing
wrong and tell me what it is my duty to do, I very frankly tell them
to go to hell." He looked around the walls at the Saronys and a French
print or two as if to call them to witness, then went on:
"Lawrence, I perceived your drift from the start, and at first, I must
confess, I was somewhat taken aback, Lawrence, by your approaching me
on such a subject."
The one listening with a bland look of attention on his face and his
feet on the table considered this rather fresh, but said nothing.
"But only for a moment," the freshman continued, "only for a moment, I
assure you. You talked to me like a man to a man, a real man, not a
Gospel shark or a poler, but a man who knows things and yet gives a
fellow credit for some good impulses. I appreciate your situation
exactly. I have been placed in similar ones myself. I know how it is.
And I'm glad you came up here to-night. You rushed in where angels
would not have dared, and I'm damn glad you did." He stopped walking
the floor. "Now I'm not accustomed to this sort of thing, Lawrence, as
you must know, and I won't promise much. But I give you my word, I'll
do my best for Darnell."
Lawrence took the hand Thompson dramatically held out to him. He
restrained another impulse, an ungrateful one, and said, "Thompson, I
always thought I understood you better than your own class-mates did."
And Gussie blushed.
The senior arose. "Gus,"--he called him Gus--"I appreciate to a nicety
the delicacy of your position in this matter. Please don't let it
inconvenience you in any way. I shall always be grateful to you for
what you have undertaken this evening, and if I can ever be of service
to you, please command me." Some of this was sincere. "I have an
engagement now. Good-night. No, I thank you, no more to-night. Come up
and see me some time, Gus. Good-night."
"Good-night, Harry," said the other. "Wish you would drop up often."
"I know that," thought Lawrence, as he closed the door, "only I
wouldn't say 'Harry' very often if I were you."
Left alone, Thompson took a gulp of whiskey straight without wincing
very much, stretched out in a big chair and planned how to follow his
friend Lawrence's suggestions, wrinkling his brows and looking no
doubt very much like the man of the world that he read about as he did
so.
Meanwhile Lawrence was saying to himself, "Still, it's all in a good
cause," and hurrying along the street with his coat-collar turned up,
like a man ashamed of himself.
"This time next year," he was thinking, "I'll be out of college and
hustling in the big world which recent graduates are always telling me
I know nothing about. I suppose I shall have to get used to
boot-licking and getting pulls. That's business. But just at present I
don't like the taste." So he hurried up the street for a
counter-irritant, while the mood was on him.
A few moments later he was saying, "The fact of the matter is,
Darnell, I'm in a pretty bad hole, and I think I'll ask your advice."
"_My_ advice?" said Darnell.
"Yes, if you do not object to giving it."
"I think you know what I mean," said the freshman, "don't you?"
"Yes," said Lawrence, "I know what you mean." He also knew he was
finding it a different matter talking to this freshman.
"Well, I'll tell you about it anyway," he went on. "Last year, when
your friend Gus Thompson's sister was down here for the sophomore
reception--what?" The freshman's big eyes were making him nearly
blush.
"Why, Gus is an only child, you know. You must mean his cousin."
"Did I say sister? I meant cousin. His cousin, of course--she's a
smooth girl, his cousin. Well, his cousin got at me and asked me to
look after him when he entered college and see that he poled and all
that. Sort of queer thing, wasn't it? But I promised to do it, and you
know you hate to lie to a--well, I hate to deceive her about it."
Then Lawrence went on to point out that while he, Darnell, had plenty
of fun in life, he kept up in first division at the same time, which
was the way to do, whereas that boy Thompson, who seemed rather
immature, had two conditions and was in a good way to being dropped;
and he, Darnell, had considerable influence over Thompson--oh, yes,
he had: Gus had only that evening referred to Darnell as his best
friend, and so on. But Lawrence forgot to say damn this time.
When he finished, the freshman turned toward the senior two
fine-looking eyes filled with surprise and some other things which
caused Lawrence to feel like a hypocrite, which he was.
"Why," replied Darnell, "of course, Lawrence. To be sure I don't know
how well I can succeed, but I'll be very glad to try it. And,
Lawrence, I think I ought to tell you that I appreciate your trusting
me in a thing of this nature, only----"
"Oh, that's all right," said Lawrence, arising.
"Only, Lawrence," continued the freshman, who seemed to have something
to say, "why didn't you tell me this was what you wanted long ago? I
would have been willing, I think, without your cultivating my
acquaintance so long."
"See here," said Lawrence, with his hand on the door-knob, "to be
right honest, I never dreamed of asking you to do anything of the sort
until this very day. If I cultivated you it was for yourself and
because I like you. I never told anyone _that_ before. Good-night."
On his way across the campus Lawrence stopped and told an innocent
old elm-tree this: "The man that first said '_Similia similibus
curantur_' was very much of a fool. I feel more like a fellow cribbing
in exams than I did before." Then he kicked the elm and shouted
"Hello-o, Billy Nolan, are you up there?" and ran up the stairs to
smoke a good-night pipe and talk about senior vacation. He felt better
in the morning.
It was one evening about a week after this that young Thompson came
running up to Lawrence's room with a scowl on his face, and talked
like an important man in a hurry.
"Why, he's dead easy! I'll say, 'Aw, let's get out of here, this beer
is rotten.' 'All right,' he'll say, 'let's wander over to the room.'
Minute we get there he proposes that we pole the Greek or something.
See his idea? He thinks he'll sour me on being quiet, but, ha, ha! I
fool him every time--how? Why I just sit down and pole to beat the
band until too late for him to join the gang. See? Oh, but he's easy!
I have made up my mind to keep that boy from making a fool of himself,
and when I make up my mind to a thing, I don't believe in crawling.
Besides, poling won't hurt me any."
"Oh, no, Thompson," said Lawrence sympathetically. "I don't see how it
can hurt you."
Darnell came in a little later and sat down in the very same chair and
had this to say: "Lawrence, Gus Thompson is a queer fellow. You know
he doesn't go with the crowd any more, and because _he_ is sour and
doesn't care to have any good times, he tries to interfere with my
enjoyment too. He's always proposing that we stay in the rooms--you
know we room together now. I thought I could look after him better in
that way-- Well, when he kicks on poling I start to join the gang, and
then he says 'All right, let's pole.' He must be jealous about me. But
that's the way I work him. He's so easy."
"Yes," said Lawrence, "lots of people are."