The next day while Himski was in his room talking with Streeter, Cadet
Lieutenant Hamm, better known in the battalion as “Billy Bacon,”
entered with a rush.
“Look here, Himski,” he cried, “the thief has been busy again. This
is the third time he’s called on me in my absence and each time he’s
helped himself to something. This time it isn’t much but I’ve suffered
all I’m going to from him, and as you are class president I demand you
do something.”
“What’s gone this time, Billy?” asked Himski, his dark eyes lighting
with interest.
“Six towels. I’d just drawn them from the store; I haven’t even cut
them yet.”
“No way of identifying them from other towels, is there?”
“Yes, by George, there is! Though I hadn’t cut them apart I had stamped
my name in indelible ink on the inside of each pair. I then folded them
back. But my name is there all right.”
“Streeter,” said Himski suddenly, “you and Creelton are friendly,
aren’t you?”
“Oh, friendly enough; why?”
“I want you to go to his room now and ask him to lend you a half dozen
of new towels, ones just from the store, and say you will return them
later.”
“Look here, Himski, I don’t like to do that. I don’t care much for
Creelton but I’d hate to believe him a thief. I know Os thinks he
is, but he’s never offered a bit of proof, and I’d hate to accuse a
classmate of being a thief.”
“I don’t ask you to do more than borrow some towels from Creelton,
Streeter. Now I’ve got good reasons for what I’m asking you to do. I’d
do it myself if I were on friendly terms with him. If it proves I’ve
done Creelton a wrong I’ll make as public an apology as you think I
should. Now, Streeter, will you borrow those towels?”
“Yes, I will. I’ll do it immediately.”
All three left the room, Streeter going first, and soon the latter was
in Creelton’s room.
“Say, Creelton,” said he, “can you let me have a half dozen face
towels, new ones? I’ll return you some later.”
“Certainly I can,” replied Creelton, glad to do Streeter a favor;
“I’ve some new ones I have just drawn on my last monthly requisition.
Take them, old man,” and he went to his wardrobe and took out some new
towels and handed them to Streeter. As he was in the act of doing so,
and before the towels had left his hands, Himski and Hamm entered the
room. “Take a look at those towels, Billy,” said the former; “see if
you can identify them.”
“What do you mean?” shouted Creelton, a frightful fear entering his
soul. “What are you insinuating? I drew those towels from the store;
they have never left my possession.” And though striving to be firm and
decided, his features twitched and he was in a paroxysm of fear.
Without replying Hamm opened one pair of towels at a time, and there,
in the center of each towel, was stamped in indelible ink, “William
Hamm.”
“Well, Creelton, you’re the thief we’ve been looking for, and we’ve
been looking a long time. I’ve suspected it for two years but could
find no proof. But we have you now, thank goodness, and there’ll be no
thief in our class when we graduate.”
Creelton seemed stunned and dazed at this sudden accusation; he looked
as though he would collapse from sheer shock and fright; he tried to
glance about at the others, searching for some one to help, to defend
him; he tried to speak but the words failed to come; clutching the back
of a chair he tried again, and this artificial support seemingly giving
him some courage, he began hoarsely, “You fellows are fooling; I don’t
know what you’re talking about. I got those towels on my last monthly
requisition; I drew them only yesterday.” He seemed to gain confidence
in himself as he went on. “Some one is either playing a joke or
putting up a job on me. What do you mean about no thief graduating?
You don’t think I’m a thief, do you? You’re not going to report me for
anything, are you?”
“Not if I’ve made a mistake, Creelton,” said Himski slowly. “If I have
wronged you, I’ll apologize. But this matter must be investigated.”
“Never mind the apology, Himski; that will be all right. Let’s shake
hands,” and Creelton came eagerly forward.
“Where did you get those towels?” asked Himski.
“At the store, I tell you; I drew them yesterday; this is the fourth
time I’ve told you that.”
“Just write that down on a piece of paper, Creelton, so that I will not
forget and ask you again.”
Creelton quickly took pencil and paper and wrote: “The towels I have
lent to Streeter I drew from the store yesterday.” Himski read the
paper, then put it in his pocket. He then said to Hamm, “Billy, run
down to the store double time; tell the clerk Mr. Creelton wants to see
his requisition book to check up what he drew last month.” And Hamm
left on a dead run.
“I don’t want it,” cried Creelton; “this is a put up job!”
“Come in, Taylor,” called out Himski to the former, who was passing
in the corridor. “I want you to stay here and see that Creelton gets
fair play; never mind what it’s all about. Streeter, skip out and bring
Bollup here. He’s four striper and should know what’s going on.”
In a few moments Streeter reappeared with Bollup, and soon Hamm ran
breathlessly in with an open requisition book, of the kind in which are
charged the articles drawn monthly by midshipmen.
“He didn’t draw any towels last month and I don’t know for how many
months back,” cried Billy Bacon.
“I’m going to search your room now, Creelton,” said Himski; and suiting
the action to the word, he commenced throwing things pell-mell from the
shelves of the wardrobe to the floor.
“I object,” cried Creelton, in frantic, impotent fear.
In the middle shelf, covered up by clothing, was a locked tin box.
Creelton made a desperate leap toward Himski but was held back by
Bollup who was looking on with grim approval.
After a while Himski said: “I think this is all; give me the towels and
the box. We’ll go now to the commandant’s office. I want you fellows to
keep entirely quiet about this and let me run it.”
Creelton almost collapsed and now stricken with fear said nothing. In a
moment they were before the commandant.
“Sir,” said Himski, “I have to report Creelton for being a thief; I
believe he is the thief we’ve had among us for four years.”
“This is an awful charge, Mr. Himski,” said the commandant gravely.
“It is, sir, and if it’s true, as I believe it is, there is all the
more reason why it should be made. I believe complete evidence will be
found in this tin box which is pretty heavy.” And then Himski related
all that had happened.
“What have you to say, Mr. Creelton?”
“It’s all a lie, sir; I don’t know how Mr. Hamm’s name came to be on
those towels. It’s a job on me, sir,” gasped the miserable culprit.
“Sir,” said Himski, “I request permission for a class meeting after
supper to-night to consider these things.”
The commandant mused for a moment, and then said: “Granted, but I will
be present.”
“I would like to leave the box and towels with you, sir, so that there
could be no question of any tampering with them.”
“Very well; I’ll take charge of them and will bring them with me
to-night at your meeting.”
“I want my box, sir,” Creelton almost shrieked; “I have private papers,
private things of my own. I protest!”
“That will do, gentlemen,” ordered the commandant, and all withdrew.
“Your roommate, the prig, will have his innings now,” remarked Bollup
to Himski, as the two walked off together.
“What do you mean by calling Os a prig?” demanded Himski, sharply.
“Oh, he’s become too fresh of late; for a clean sleever he’s a bit too
free with his advice to the four striper, at least I think so; any way,
I’ve done with Osborn. I’ll never speak to him again.”
“Bollup, Os is one of the best of fellows and the best friend you ever
had. You ought to know it better than any one.”
“When a man interferes with my private arrangements and prevents me
from keeping an engagement he’s no friend of mine and Osborn is crossed
off my list of friends,” remarked Bollup savagely. “But,” he continued
with a hard, mirthless laugh, “he’ll think of me occasionally, at least
until that left eye of his heals up.”
“I thought so,” said Himski, quietly.
“Thought so?” exclaimed Bollup in surprise. “Didn’t Osborn tell you
where he got that eye?”
“He did not, and that’s why I somehow imagined he got it from you.”
“Hasn’t Osborn told you of what happened between him and me after
eleven last night?”
“Not a word.”
“Well, I’ll tell you. I had an engagement out in town; a pleasant
party had been planned. I would have gone but Osborn stopped me. When
I tried to pass him he tackled me and we both went to the floor. He
spoiled for me a brand new service coat and stopped me from keeping an
engagement. I plugged him good and hard and I’m glad of it.”
“If you had gone your absence would have been reported just like the
five who were absent from the midnight muster last night, would it not?”
“Of course. But Osborn did not know that a muster was to be held.”
“Yes, he did know it. Warren told me he telephoned Os last night at
eleven that the O. C. knew some midshipmen were out and was laying a
trap for them. Os stopped you from going and saved your stripes for
you. And by the way of thanks you strike him a fearful blow in the eye
and tell me you’re glad of it. I’m disgusted with you,” and indeed
Himski looked his disdain.
Bollup began to feel uncomfortable. “Look here, Himski,” he said weakly
and uneasily, “don’t you think Os, being nothing but a clean sleever,
should pay a little more respect to the cadet lieutenant-commander
than----”
Himski, in a fever of indignation, now turned on Bollup with
uncontrollable fury. “My heavens, man,” he almost shouted, “have you
the slightest conception of what a contemptible cad you are? Have you
never guessed why you got four stripes and Os a clean sleeve? You,
cad that you are, to suggest that the man who made you, who saved you
from disgraceful dismissal, who with a whole heart gave you the four
stripes that up to that time were slated for him, should use more
deference to the stripes that were his! and which out of his great soul
he presented to you, shriveled, dwarfed, contemptible thing that you
are! And so you are glad you blackened his eye, are you, and will never
speak to him again?
“Faugh! You to speak so of the man who saved you from disgraceful
expulsion! You make me sick. Cross my name out of your list of friends,
too.”
“Why, why, Himski, what are you talking about?--why, I don’t think
you have any right to talk this way to me,” stammered Bollup, utterly
aghast at Himski’s onslaught.
“Bollup, do you remember the time, about a year ago now, you were so
helplessly drunk at the Maryland Hotel?”
“I don’t like to remember it,” replied Bollup, reddening. “I thought
no one even knew anything about that. But what has that got to do with
what we are talking about?”
“Do you remember that that same night Os was reported for Frenching
though no one ever knew why he had Frenched?”
“Yes, but I had nothing to do with that.”
“Nothing that you remember of. Os heard of your condition; there was
no time to lose; he ran through the gate and knew he was reported. He
ran into me on Maryland Avenue and together we found you. You were
too far gone to know either of us. Well, we got you into a boat, rowed
around and got you into quarters and into bed without any one seeing
you. Os saved you from a justly merited dismissal and made you a
present of four stripes at the same time. He saved you a second time,
at least saved your stripes last night. And what do you give him in
return? Forsooth a black eye; and you cut his acquaintance! And you
are indignant that he doesn’t bow lower to those stripes which are
tarnished and dim on your sleeves, but which, were they where they
belonged, and you know where that is, would have been honored as yours
never have been!”
A dawning consciousness now swept through Bollup’s mind and a flood
of recollection enveloped it. He thought of Osborn, the victim
of persecution and one who had suffered so much; of Osborn, the
self-sacrificing Os, to whom he owed everything; the loving friend
who had given his all, and who even now, spurned and contemptuously
treated, uttered no complaint. A well of emotion surged through his
heart, and now came a bright, vivid appreciation of the brotherly love
which Ralph had accorded him; Bollup was not prepared for this, and
uncontrolled tears gushed from his eyes. He clutched Himski’s arm and
spoke brokenly.
“I--I didn’t know of this, Himski, I--I never imagined it. Oh, what
shall I do? What can I do, Himski? I am the most contemptible cad
any one ever knew,” and bitter self-hatred was replacing conceit in
Bollup’s mind. “Is there anything I can do, is there any hope for me?
Oh, what a friend I have had; did ever a man have such a friend? Have I
lost him forever, Himski?”
“Suppose you go and ask him, Bollup; there he is now, standing by his
desk in the corridor. I’m going to my room.”
When Ralph saw Bollup approaching him in the corridor he was feeling
particularly sad and woebegone. He had had many troubles and sorrows
but the loss of Bollup’s friendship cut him deepest.
When he found himself suddenly clasped by Bollup and heard that dear
friend in broken, halting sentences beg for forgiveness and utterly
debase himself he could have cried for joy; not to have seen Bollup in
such dejected, shameful grief, but because he knew that the miserable
misunderstanding of the last few weeks between himself and Bollup was
forever dispelled.
Let us leave them together; young men are awkward in expressing their
feelings to one another; they are not as demonstrative as girls, who
no doubt would have had an outlet in kissing and petting each other
with cooing words. But in this quarrel deep feelings had been touched
and much emotion was displayed by both. A most perfect and complete
reconciliation occurred and a glad happiness filled the heart of each.
It was amusing thereafter to watch Bollup. He became filled with an
admiration for Ralph exceeding anything he had ever felt before. He was
never satisfied unless he was with Ralph; in his mind Ralph was one
of the greatest characters he had ever known, one who combined great
mental capacity with a great soul.
Himski gave them about an hour to purr to each other, then went to them
and said: “Os, there’s a class meeting after supper to-night. Be sure
to be there.”
“All right; what’s up?”
“Oh, I’m going to prove Creelton the thief we’re looking for. But don’t
talk about it. I’ve got him, though; it’s certain he’s the man; I’ve
got the proof.”
Ralph was wild with excitement and curiosity, but the special detail
were now called to supper and he had to hurry away.
“Himski,” said Bollup, after Ralph had left, “I’ve been a cad; I
deserve all you said, but I’m going to try to square things up as well
as I can. I want to talk it over with you, and I want your advice.”
A long talk in low tones followed. At first Himski expostulated and
disapproved, but finally Bollup’s vehemence won him over. “All right,
Bol,” finally said Himski; “I think it may be done and I’ll help you if
I can. I’m certain that you want to do it. And one thing more, Bol, I
want to withdraw my remarks about your being a cad. You’re now proving
yourself ‘white.’”
“It will take a lot of proof,” Bollup remarked, much pleased at
Himski’s words, “but I shall do the best I can. But I think you will
have to do most of the talking, Himski; we’ll see the commandant
together and you will help me, I’m sure. You have a way of making
people see things as you see them, and I may fail in expressing myself
properly or as I wish to.”
“All right. There goes the bugle for supper. We’ll have an important
job later, that of showing up Creelton. I have great hopes that the tin
box may prove all the evidence we need; but if it doesn’t he will have
hard work to prove he didn’t steal the towels; he has told impossible
stories as to how he got them. Be on hand early after supper.”