MOMENTS OF APPREHENSION.
As Grant drew near they saw he was regarding them with a half taunting
expression on his bronzed face. In return they stared at him
wonderingly, seeking to detect in his manner some symptoms of craziness.
“Dud-dinged if he don’t look all right,” muttered Phil Springer.
“I guess he’s got over it,” said Sile Crane.
Followed by Stone, the boy from Texas vaulted the back yard fence and
came straight toward them.
“Well, how are the noble warriors and the desperate cattle rustlers
this morning?” was his mocking inquiry. “You sure appear a trifle
upset, gents. King Philip has a pale and languid look; Tecumpseh seems
some disturbed, and I declare, Osceola is nervous. Girty, the renegade,
has backed off, ready to take to his heels. I miss the familiar face of
the chief of the cattle rustlers. Is it possible he has found himself
indisposed this morning, which has compelled him to remain in bed? Take
you all together, you’re a sure enough meaching-looking bunch.
“Survey them, Stone. Would you ever imagine these brave bucks possessed
the hardihood to lay in wait, in superior numbers, under cover of
darkness, and jump on a lone and unsuspecting person? Can you pick out
among them the bloodthirsty redskins who would cruelly tie a captive to
the stake and attempt to burn him alive? There they are—Cooper, Crane
and Springer;—and there’s their disreputable accomplice, Rollins,
otherwise known as Girty, the renegade. These others are the cattle
rustlers, who rescued the unfortunate wretch from the Indians and bore
him to their mountain rendezvous, where they threw him into a room with
the bleaching bones of poor old Tanglefoot Bill. Is it any wonder they
drove the victim of such cruel treatment clean batty? Is it any wonder
that he chanted a doleful dirge, and rubbed powdered chalk on his face,
and chewed soap until he could froth at the mouth? Such behavior on his
part certainly indicated that he had gone plumb loony.”
He concluded with a burst of laughter that grated harshly on the ears
of the deluded jokers, who were slowly beginning to understand that
they had been fooled completely—that the joke was on them. The
realization of this brought flushes of shame mounting to their faces.
“Well, I’ll be switched!” gasped Crane. “He’s a-givin’ us the laugh.”
Chipper Cooper pretended to look around on the ground. “Can anybody
find a hole small enough for me to crawl into?” he muttered. “I want to
get out of sight—quick.”
“I don’t blame you any,” chuckled Rod Grant. “Take my advice and seek
seclusion and shelter in the swamps of the Narragansetts. You were a
bum redskin, anyhow. You gents had a heap of fun, didn’t you? But you
always want to remember that the fellow who laughs last laughs best.
It’s my turn now, and I’m enjoying it a plenty. You ought to see
yourselves. You’re the cheapest looking aggregation of hazers I ever
beheld. Some of you appear sick enough to have a doctor.”
This was true; without exception, they all wore a silly, shamed
expression.
The sudden sounding of the last bell came as welcome relief, and they
lost no time about hustling indoors, followed more leisurely by Grant
and Stone, the former continuing to cast jibes after them.
During the morning session the boys were given time to think the whole
matter over, and with the coming of a calm realization that they had
been not only checkmated but completely hoist on their own petard,
their chagrin was intensified. Occasionally one of them would steal a
sly glance toward Rod Grant, but whoever did so was almost certain to
meet the chaffing, derisive gaze of the boy from Texas. Some made
secret vows of vengeance, while others were more inclined to “own the
corn” and acknowledge themselves outwitted. What they now dreaded more
than anything else was the stinging tongue and pitiless badinage of the
new boy.
At intermission they held a secret conclave, at which a few betrayed
their continued rawness in the face of advice from others to swallow
the medicine, bitter though it was, and make the best of it.
“I tell yeou, fellers,” said Sile Crane, “after due consideration, I’m
sorter inclined to own right up before Grant that he come it over us
mighty slick. We started aout to have haydoo-gins of fun with him, but
before we got through he made us look like a cage of monkeys, and
that’s all there is to it. I snum, I think ’twas pretty clever of him.”
“Bah!” growled Hunk Rollins. “If you want to lay down and let him use
you for a foot-mat, go ahead. I don’t feel that way, and I don’t
propose to do it. He’s been shown up as a case of bluff. He hasn’t got
the nerve to fight, nor even to play football. Are we going to let that
sort of a feller crow over us?”
“I’ve got an idee,” said Crane slowly, “that Rod Grant ain’t lackin’ in
nerve. No feller could ’a’ stood what he did last night, bein’ chucked
into a dark room with a real skeleton that had been rubbed over with
phosphorus, and then fooled the bunch of us by makin’ b’lieve he was
crazy, unless he had pretty good nerve. He’s refused to play football,
and mebbe he won’t fight; but I cal’late the chap that keeps treadin’
on the tail of his co’t is goin’ to run up against a s’prise party some
day. Bimeby he’ll wake up and break loose, and when he does there’ll be
some doings.”
Returning to the academy after dinner, Chipper Cooper found a number of
the boys still talking about Grant.
“Say,” cried Cooper, “you can’t guess who called me up over the long
distance ten minutes ago.”
“Barker,” said Nelson instantly.
“You win.”
“Bub-Barker!” sneered Phil Springer. “What did he want?”
“Wanted to know what we’d heard about Grant. Said he naturally felt
somewhat anxious.”
“You bate he felt that way!” exclaimed Crane scornfully. “What’d you
tell him?”
“I told him all about it—told him what a lot of lobsters we were.”
“What made yeou do that?” cried Crane. “Why didn’t yeou tell him they’d
had to put Grant in a strait-jacket, or somethin’ like that?”
“Didn’t think of it quick enough, Sile; but I told him the fellers were
mighty disgusted because he sneaked out.”
“What’d he say to that?”
“Oh, he denied that he had sneaked. Said he’d had a standing invitation
from Merwin, who had been urging him for a long time to come over, and
that was why he went. All the same, I could tell by the sound of his
voice that he was greatly relieved.”
“Of course he was,” nodded Nelson. “We all know he skipped out and left
us to face the music. Now that there’s nothing more to worry about,
he’ll come back with his head up.”
“Nothing to worry about!” sighed Billy Piper. “Wait till the prof finds
out what happened to his skeleton. My deduction is——”
“He’ll _bone_ the whole school to tell who did it,” sighed Cooper. “If
anybody squeals, we’ll find ourselves in a mess.”
“If anybody sus-squeals!” muttered Springer. “What’s going to prevent
Grant from giving the whole thing away?”
“He’ll do it,” said Rollins. “That’s the way he’ll get even with us.”
“Get even!” said Roy Hooker. “Seems to me he’s more than even as it
stands.”
With the beginning of the afternoon session they perceived something in
Prof. Richardson’s manner which increased their apprehensions.
Nevertheless, not until he had heard the physiology class and was on
the point of dismissing it did the principal speak out. Standing beside
his desk, he removed his spectacles and held them balanced upon his
thumb, while his eyes surveyed the scholars before him, several of whom
found it difficult to hide their nervousness.
“It’s an unfortunate thing,” began the master calmly, “that some young
men in this school seem to hold very crude and unsatisfactory ideas
regarding honor and decency. You know very well that I have always
favored clean sport and decent fun—I have even encouraged it. Yesterday
I informed the members of this class that I had secured a human
skeleton, which those who wished to do so might examine at an extra
session after school closed to-day. This skeleton had been placed in
the laboratory. I have but recently discovered that the laboratory has
been entered by some one and the skeleton has been broken. It was
strung upon wires, and may be restored. This, however, in no way
palliates the offense, which was no more nor less than a shameful act
of vandalism. It is quite likely that more than one person was
concerned in this despicable business. I’m not going to question you
individually, but I warn you now that I shall deal severely with the
culprits when I learn who they are, unless they at once own up to the
deed. The lad who comes to me first with an honest confession will be
treated with more or less leniency. It may be that some one who was not
concerned in the matter—who is in no way responsible—knows something
about it. If so, I hope he will speak up at once and tell the truth.
This is his opportunity. Let him speak.”
It seemed that the master’s gaze came to a rest upon Rodney Grant as he
concluded, and more than one lad in that class felt his heart stand
still, believing it almost certain that Rod would grasp this
opportunity to complete the work of retaliation. For several moments
the silence was intense. The prominent “Adam’s apple” in Sile Crane’s
neck bobbed convulsively as he swallowed. White around the mouth, Chub
Tuttle slowly rolled his eyes in Grant’s direction. Rod was looking
straight at the professor, but he sat unmoved and calm, like an image
of stone.
“Very well,” said the master at length; “you have had your opportunity,
and no one has chosen to speak out. Perhaps some one will decide to do
so after further consideration. At any rate, I shall leave no stone
unturned in my efforts to learn the identity of the rascals. The class
is dismissed.”
School over for the day, Ben Stone found an opportunity to question
Grant. “What would you have done,” he asked, “if the professor had
singled you out and put it to you point-blank?”
“I should have declined to answer.”
“Then he certainly would have believed you concerned in the breaking of
the skeleton.”
“I was.”
“But you were not to blame. If you had told the truth the other fellows
would have had to suffer, while you must have been exonerated.”
“Had he cornered me,” said Grant, “I should have requested that the
same questions be put to every other fellow in school.”
“What if they had lied? They might have denied knowing anything about
it.”
“In that case,” said Grant, “I should have told the story of the hazing
and refused to give the names of the fellows who took part in it.”
“Do you think they would have followed the same course—all of them, or
any one of them—had the situation been reversed?”
“I don’t know,” answered Grant; “but I hope so.”
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