HANSEL LEAVES THE TEAM
The mass meeting was surprisingly well attended. Ever since the similar
assembly at which the “team expenses” item had been brought to light
there had been rumors of all sorts flying about the school. It was
said that Billy Cameron was not going to be allowed to play; that some
of the fellows were going to demand the resignation of the present
manager, and that Phin Dorr wanted the office; that the faculty was
frightened lest the facts about Cameron should get into the papers;
that Bert Middleton and Dana didn’t speak to each other; and much more
besides. All this had the effect of whetting public curiosity, and so
filling the hall from platform to doors. Field had refused to preside
and the honor fell to Cupples, president of the third class. After
calling the meeting to order, for once not a difficult task, since the
audience was consumed with curiosity, Cupples introduced Phin. Phin
made the best speech of his school career that evening, but I’m not
going to bore you with it, nor with the remarks made by Spring, who
followed him; nor with what Hansel had to say.
The latter was rather nervous at first and had to stand some
“jollying,” but he soon recovered his composure and his voice, and
spoke very well indeed, his earnestness impressing even the scoffers.
There were plenty of these; Bert was there, and Larry Royle, and
King, and Conly and others of the first team; and there was a liberal
sprinkling of first class urchins, whose mission seemed to be to make
as much noise and disturbance as possible. Harry was on hand, also, but
he didn’t scoff. “Give ’em fair play, I say,” he proclaimed.
Without wishing to do any injustice to the efforts of Phin and Hansel,
I think it is safe to say, that of the three speeches, that made by
Spring made the most converts. Spring was terribly enthusiastic over
whatever he undertook, and he had become quite wrought up over the
subject which was at present disturbing the school. As a consequence
he made many assertions not quite borne out by facts and, like an
Irishman at a fair, hit whatever heads were within reach. This was what
the fellows wanted to hear, and Spring got lots of applause, especially
when he demanded to know whether the faculty was asleep, and if not,
why it didn’t “come to the succor of the fair name of the school, and
stamp under heel this foul serpent of deceit!” (Two members of the
faculty present were seen to hide their faces at this point, probably
from shame.)
Of course, Phin and Hansel and Spring didn’t have everything their own
way. There was plenty of opposition voiced. Royle got up and made a
speech that won loud applause. Royle said there were fellows in school
that made him mighty tired, and that if it was the reputation and honor
of the school they were bothering about, the best thing they could do
was stuff pillows in their mouths.
There was a full hour of debate following the first resolution, which
Hansel presented for adoption. It was too strong, and by the time it
had been patched and sliced to suit the majority, it bore but slight
resemblance to its first form. But that the meeting was willing to
adopt any resolutions presented by them, was at once a surprise and
a triumph for Phin and Hansel and Spring. As finally adopted the
resolution resolved, after several “Whereases,” that it was “the
sentiment of the school in mass meeting assembled that Phineas Dorr,
Edward Cupples, and Barnard Spring be constituted a committee to
examine into the condition of athletics at the school and, at their
discretion, to confer with the athletic committee and the faculty,
with a view to the drawing up and adoption of a set of rules to govern
athletics.” This resolution went with a two-thirds vote, and the prime
movers were delighted. In celebration Phin invited Hansel to dine with
him the next day.
After dinner they went for a long walk together, around the lake, a
matter of six miles, reaching home just as the bell on Academy Hall was
ringing for vespers. Hansel told Harry about it the next day and the
latter was greatly astounded.
“I never heard of any fellow dining with Phin before,” he declared.
“There’s a popular belief here that Phin doesn’t really eat, that he
just lives on sawdust and shavings and other cereals.”
“We had a very nice dinner,” said Hansel. “Of course it was plain, and
there wasn’t an awful lot of it, but it was cooked finely. Mrs. Freer
started to apologize once but Phin wouldn’t let her. She’s a dear old
lady--only, I guess she isn’t so very old, after all--and is mighty
good to Phin; looks after him just as his own mother might. And he’s
nice to her, too; just as thoughtful and--er--polite as anything!
They’ve got a nice little house there, clean and cozy and homelike. We
had chicken.”
“Phe-e-ew!” whistled Harry. “I’ll bet they won’t have it again in a
year. You were a guest of honor, my boy. Anyone has only to look at
Phin to know that he doesn’t get a square meal once a month. If Mrs.
What’s-her-name is so fond of him she’d better feed him up a bit.”
“I guess he doesn’t pay very much,” Hansel reminded.
During the walk following the dinner at Mrs. Freer’s, Phin and Hansel,
encouraged by success, had planned a vigorous campaign, and in the
evening they called on Mr. Ames and spent nearly two hours in his
study. In pursuance of their plans, Hansel, on Tuesday, four days prior
to the Warren game, issued an ultimatum.
“Is Cameron going to play in Saturday’s game?” he asked Bert.
“He certainly is,” was the reply.
“Very well; then you’ll have to count me out.”
“What do you mean?” cried Bert.
“Just what I say. From now on I will not play in any outside game in
which Cameron takes part.”
“But--but--that’ll put us in a nasty hole!” cried the other in alarm.
“What sort of a way is that to act?”
“Cameron has no business on the team, and as long as he’s there I’m out
of it. If you like I’ll keep in training and play in practice, but I
won’t go into the games if he is in the line-up.”
I’m not going to repeat everything that Bert said; much of it he was
probably quite ashamed of later; and it didn’t do any good, anyway.
Hansel refused to argue, refused to fight, refused to lose his temper.
The matter was carried to Mr. Ames at once, but the latter decided that
Hansel had a perfect right to say whether or not he would play football.
“Then I won’t have him on the field,” said Bert. “If he won’t play
against Warren and Fairview, there’s no use in having him practice.
We’ll put Cutler in at right end and hammer some football into his
thick head. But this means that we lose the Warren game, sure as fate!
Hang Hansel Dana! There’s been nothing but trouble ever since he came
here.”
“You don’t think then,” asked Mr. Ames, “that you could do better by
dropping Cameron and keeping Dana?”
“Do you?” asked Bert moodily.
“I’m not certain. You know Warren has been playing a running game all
fall, and her quarter has done some wonderful work with the ball; they
say he’s like a cat at working the ends. And if Fairview finds out that
we’re weak at right end, she’ll probably try the same thing.”
“I won’t let Cameron go,” said Bert stubbornly. “That’s just what
Hansel and Phin and that crowd are after, and I won’t give them the
satisfaction!”
“Well, think it over. I shan’t interfere in the matter. Keep Cameron or
Dana, whichever you think best.”
The next day Hansel was not at right end on the school team, and,
in fact, did not appear on the green at all. By night it was known
throughout the school that Dana had been put off the team because of
his anti-Cameron attitude. It did not get out until after the Warren
game that he had refused to play because of Cameron’s presence. The
football authorities came in for a good deal of criticism, for Hansel
was recognized as almost the best player on the team, and to put him
off just before the Warren game seemed the height of folly. Hansel
refused to talk on the subject.
On Thursday Hansel suddenly realized that he had not seen Phin for two
days, a most unusual occurrence, since Phin had formed the habit of
bringing his lunch to school with him, and eating it in a corner of the
library while he studied, and Hansel usually dropped in there for a
chat on his way back from dinner. But the library had been empty the
last two days, and Phin had not shown up, either at recitations or at
Hansel’s room. So on Thursday afternoon Hansel set off to the village
to look him up. He was glad of something to do, for since he had left
the eleven the afternoons had grown interminably long and frightfully
dull. As he crossed the green the fellows were just lining up for
practice, and he could see Cutler at his place on the right end of the
first. When he rang the bell at Mrs. Freer’s it was Phin himself who
opened the door. He looked paler and thinner than ever, and there were
dark streaks around his eyes, as though he had not had sufficient sleep.
“Oh!” he said at sight of Hansel, “I thought it was the doctor.”
“Doctor?” asked Hansel. “Are you sick?”
“No, but mother is. He said he’d be back at three and he hasn’t come
yet.”
“Your mother?” exclaimed Hansel, dropping his voice to match Phin’s
quiet tones. “Is she here?”
“Did I say my mother? Well, I didn’t mean to. You see-- Come in a
minute and I’ll tell you.” Hansel followed him to the little parlor.
Phin went to the window for another anxious look up the street, and
then came back to where Hansel stood beside the old white marble
mantel. “I didn’t mean to let it out, Hansel, but I don’t believe it
matters, anyway. I kept it secret on her account; she made me promise.
She wouldn’t come out here this winter unless I promised to keep it
secret; you see, Hansel, she thought the fellows might--well, look down
on me, I suppose, if they knew my mother did dressmaking. I told her,
though, that if I attended to furnaces and beat carpets, I guessed the
fellows could stand her doing sewing. But she was afraid, and so I
agreed to keep it quiet. After all----”
“You mean Mrs. Freer?” asked Hansel, a light dawning on his mind.
“She’s your mother?”
“Yes, one of the best a fellow ever had, Hansel. She’s worked like a
slave for me for years. And that’s the reason I wanted her to come here
this year and take this house. I knew I could keep an eye on her, and
see that she didn’t starve herself to death in order to send me money.
I thought we could rent the spare room and that she would be able to
get some dressmaking to do, but it hasn’t turned out very well. And now
she’s down sick with the grippe, and the doctor’s afraid it’s going to
turn into pneumonia. I’ve been up with her three nights, Hansel, and
I’m just about played out.”
“I’m mighty sorry,” muttered Hansel. “Look here, what can I do? Let me
go and find the doctor for you? Where does he live?”
“Will you?” asked Phin eagerly. “I don’t like to leave her for very
long at a time. It’s Dr. Gordon, you know, three blocks down, on the
corner. I’ll be very much obliged----”
But Hansel was already hurrying along the street. The doctor had just
returned from a trip into the country when Hansel reached his house,
and was already preparing to go to Mrs. Freer’s. He offered to take
Hansel back that far with him in the buggy, and Hansel jumped in.
“Phin says you’re afraid of pneumonia,” said Hansel as they rattled up
the village street.
“Looks like it now, but she may fool us,” was the cheerful response.
“If she had enough vitality to keep a mouse alive I wouldn’t worry.
Look here, are you a friend of theirs?”
“Yes,” answered Hansel.
“All right; then I’m not telling secrets, I guess. She’s young Dorr’s
mother; knew that, didn’t you? She married again after his father
died, and from what I gather the second marriage didn’t turn out very
well; present husband’s still alive, I believe. Fact of the matter is,
they’re too poor to buy decent food; they’re both of ’em just about
half starved. I had a dickens of a time trying to get her to take white
of egg; she said eggs were very dear, and thought something else might
do. The boy seems awfully fond of her, and he’s nursed her right along
for three days, but it seems to me he’d better leave school and find
some work, so he can take care of her. Here we are. How’s that? Wait to
see-- Oh, all right; I’ll be out in ten minutes, I guess, and I’ll tell
you how she is.”
Hansel turned up the street and walked as far as the first corner,
keeping an eye on the little white gate for fear Dr. Gordon would
escape him. And as he strolled along his mind was very busy. When,
finally, the doctor reappeared, Hansel hurried up to him.
“Which way are you going, sir?” he asked.
“Down to the other side of town, across the railroad. Why?”
“May I go along? I’d like to speak to you.”
“All right, my boy; in you go.” When the buggy had turned, scraping,
and was again headed toward the railroad, Dr. Gordon observed Hansel
with frank interest. “You’re one of the academy boys, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, now about Mrs. Freer. I think she’s going to pull through
without lung complications. It’s a bit early yet to say for sure. I’m
going back this evening at ten, and if you’re interested enough to call
me up by ’phone at about half-past, I’ll tell you what there is to
tell.”
“Thank you, doctor,” answered Hansel gratefully, “I’ll do that.”
“All right; call 48-3.”
“Do you think she ought to have a nurse, sir?” asked Hansel presently.
“Um-m; she could use one, but I guess they can’t afford it, or think
they can’t. The boy does pretty well--if he doesn’t give out.”
“Is there a nurse they could get if--if they decided they wanted one?”
“Yes, Mrs. Whitney, on Arlington Street, would be just the person for
them. I don’t think she’s engaged just now, either.”
“Thank you, sir. If you’ll pull up I’ll get out here, I guess.”
“Oh, all right. Call me up to-night, eh? Glad to have met you. Good-by!”
Hansel hurried back to the academy and sought Harry on the green.
Taking him aside he told about Phin’s predicament.
“His mother!” marveled Harry with a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be
switched!”
“Yes, and she needs a nurse, Harry; Dr. Gordon says so; and they think
they can’t afford it. But, of course, she’s got to have one.”
“Has she?” asked Harry, trying to follow Hansel’s argument. “Well, if
you say so.”
“We’ve got to get hold of some money.”
“Oh, that’s it? How much?”
“I don’t just know, but I think nurses charge about fifteen dollars a
week.”
“Well, who’s going to get her, you?”
“I suppose so.”
“Well, hurry along then. She won’t want any pay until the end of her
week, and meanwhile we’ll find plenty of money; lots of fellows will be
only too glad to help Phin.”
“But--but do you suppose he’ll consent?”
“Go send the nurse there and ask consent afterwards,” said Harry. “Come
around this evening and we’ll talk it over. Do you need any coin now?”
“No; but I have a couple of dollars in my pocket if I do. I’ll be up
about eight.”
An hour later he was ringing Phin’s doorbell again. He could hear Phin
tiptoeing down the stairs, and in a moment the door was opened.
“How is she?” asked Hansel.
“Asleep now; I guess she’s just about the same. The doctor, though,
said he thought she was doing rather well. It was good of you to call,
Hansel.”
“Not at all, because-- By the way, is there anything I can do for you?
Any errands or anything?”
“Not unless you can study and recite for me. I guess my scholarship’s a
goner, Hansel.”
“Nonsense! When you explain--” Phin shook his head.
“Johnnie isn’t a good man to explain to,” he said hopelessly. “Well, it
can’t be helped. After all, I dare say I’d better be at work; college
can wait for a few years. But won’t you come in?”
“No, I must get back. I--I just stopped in to tell you that Mrs.
Whitney will be here at eight o’clock to take charge.”
“Who’s she?” asked Phin with wide eyes.
“Nurse, Phin. You see, the doc thought you’d better have one, and so
a few of the fellows-- We knew you didn’t want to stand the expense,
but--you can pay it back, if you want to, any time you like; it’s just
a sort of a loan, you know----”
Hansel ceased his embarrassed explanations, and glanced at Phin. A
little smile was trembling around the latter’s mouth and his eyes had a
misty look that sent Hansel retreating backward down the steps.
“And so--so she’ll come at eight,” murmured Hansel. “Good-by!”
Then he turned and hurried through the gate and up the street,
whistling a bit breathlessly, and much out of tune.
“Of course when a fellow hasn’t had much sleep and gets worried like
that,” he explained to himself, “it’s no wonder he wants to cry. I dare
say I would!”