BY THE RIVER SIDE
"I wish that I had not spoken like that to him."
So Ralph Rexworth mused as he left the study and went along the
corridor--anger at the violent outburst and the accusation which
Charlton had hurled at him, he felt none.
A muffled sound broke upon his ears--the sound of some one sobbing
violently, and he stopped, peering along the corridor until he made
out the form of his former chum. Charlton had flung himself down full
length, and was crying as if his heart would break.
It was more than Ralph could stand--he went up to him and laid a hand
upon the prostrate boy's shoulder.
"Charlton," he said kindly, "don't cry. I am awfully sorry that I have
offended you, and that we have quarrelled. I did not mean to do it.
Won't you get up and shake hands with me?"
"No!" came the broken answer. "Go away, I don't want you! You were the
only chum that I had, and now you say that I am a thief! I never said a
word against you. I told Dobson that he was telling lies when he said
that you had stolen the note, and he beat me. I did not mind that,
because I was trying to stick up for you; and now you say I stole it!"
"Come, shake hands," pleaded Ralph, feeling somehow that he was on the
wrong track. "I am sorry."
"You ought to have known how it feels to be called a thief," the other
lad continued. "You are not my chum--I don't care about you being
strong and me being weak--I don't want to be your chum. I know that my
father was called a thief, but it was not true--he never did anything
wrong--and I know that people sneer at me. But I am not a thief--I
never stole anything, and you, seeing what Elgert has said about your
father, and that you have been accused, might have been a little more
kind to me."
"Well, I have said that I am sorry. Won't you shake hands?" said Ralph
again. "And I had a note from Mr. St. Clive, and he told me to ask you
and Warren to come over to-morrow. Won't you come?"
"No," answered Charlton. "You don't want boys there who have convict
fathers, and who you believe to be thieves. You go away, Ralph
Rexworth. We shall never be friends any more until you have been proved
wrong. When I can prove to you that I had no hand in taking that note,
then we will be chums again.
"And," he added, sitting up, "it is a wicked, wicked lie to say that I
was with any man in those woods. It is not true, and you are making it
up. There--go away, and make what chums you like. I suppose that we
must still share the same study! I won't worry you with my presence
very much, I can promise you; but I won't make friends, and I won't
forgive you, and I won't take back one word of what I have said that I
believe about you--not even if you beat me--and you are strong enough
to do that, I know."
"I am sorry. I don't want to beat you, Charlton," responded Ralph, "and
I am very grieved that we are not to be chums. Perhaps after Sunday you
will think differently."
"I will never think differently--never--never!" cried Charlton. And
jumping up he rushed off, leaving Ralph to continue his way alone, and
somewhat heavy-hearted, for he had a genuine liking for the lonely,
sad-faced boy, and was indeed truly sorry that he had said anything to
cause him such pain and grief.
"Hallo, Rexworth! What have you been doing with Charlton?" asked
Warren, meeting him in the playground a little later. "He rushed across
here a little while ago as though he were training for a race; and when
I asked him if he had seen you, he said that he didn't know anything
about you, and that he didn't want to know, either. Whatever have you
done to upset him in that way?"
"We have had a bit of a quarrel," answered Ralph. "Don't ask me about
it, old fellow, for I don't want to talk of it. I hope that he will
be all right again next week. By the way, Mr. St. Clive has asked me
whether you would care to come over and spend the afternoon with me
to-morrow."
"Will a duck like to swim when it gets enough water to paddle its
little tootsies in?" laughed Warren. "My dear chap, I will come on the
wings of greased lightning. I must go home and tell the mater first
though, or she will wonder what has become of me--fancy that I have met
with an accident, or something. Fellows ought not to be careless about
such things as that. Then I will come on, if that will do, and--great
guns! there goes the bell, and it is my turn to see the school ready
for calling over. I am off"--and away Warren sped as fast as he could
run.
The evening passed, the following morning came and went, and
still Charlton gave Ralph no opportunity for renewing his offer
of friendship. He looked pale, miserable, but determined--Ralph
had wounded him to the very soul, and he would not--could not
indeed--forget or forgive it.
The hour of departure came, and still Charlton avoided Ralph. They left
without wishing each other good-bye, and Ralph set out for Mr. St.
Clive's, feeling disappointed and heavy-hearted.
But disappointment and heavy-heartedness could not long find place in
that bright home. The very first greeting, the warm handshake of Mr.
St. Clive, the smile of his wife and the rush with which Irene came to
greet him, altogether united to banish every melancholy thought, and to
bring sunshine to his heart.
And what a circle of sympathetic listeners he had when he told them
about the theft, and how he had chanced to be upon the scene. And both
Irene and Mrs. Clive laughed, and were at the same time very indignant
that any one should dare to suppose, even for one moment, that Ralph
could possibly be a thief.
But Mr. St. Clive looked grave, for he could see how hard this was for
the lad, and could understand what a big fight it must have been for
Ralph.
"Never fear, my boy," he said when the story was told. "It is hard, but
the truth must come out at last--it always does in this world of ours.
But now," he continued, "about your friends--I hope they are to be my
guests to-day."
"Warren will be here, sir," answered Ralph. And Mr. St. Clive asked,
"And not Charlton?"
"No, sir, he could not promise." Ralph did not go into the matter of
his quarrel with his chum then; he wanted to talk to Mr. St. Clive
alone about that; and the gentleman, seeing that something must have
gone amiss, did not press his questions further.
Then Ralph went off with Irene, and had to tell her everything over
again, while she sat and listened with sparkling eyes, especially when
he told her how Mr. Delermain had behaved.
"I would like to kiss him," she said. "He is a nice man." And Ralph
suggested that, as she could not do that, the next best thing would be
to kiss him instead--a thing which proves very conclusively that Ralph
was very quickly getting used to the ways of Western civilization.
And then, with a merry call, Tom Warren came upon the scene, for he had
arrived, had been welcomed by his host, and sent out into the garden
to meet his friend. Irene was introduced--she had known him before, by
the way, but that doesn't matter--and Warren was nice, and didn't think
girls a bit of a nuisance--which shows that he was a wise boy--and the
three just got on as well as could be, until the bell rang for lunch,
and--
Well, well, they did enjoy that lunch, that is all; and they
demonstrated very clearly what exceedingly healthy appetites they all
possessed; and then, that over, they set out for a stroll along the
river's bank--for it was very pretty there, and Irene loved the spot.
The trees were so stately, and, in some places, grew right to the
water's edge, and the grass was so green and velvety, and the river
ran so smoothly--perhaps too smoothly--for the current was strong
and swift, and glided along, making the water look like a stream of
glass as it turned the curve towards Becket Weir, and went roaring and
foaming down twelve feet like a little Niagara.
But to-day, when they reached the spot they were somewhat disappointed
to find that they were not the only occupants. A party of boys were
there--boys from the college--and, of all boys in the world, Elgert,
Dobson, and some of their chums who had been to Mr. St. Clive's.
Some of the boys were fishing, for there were excellent perch and roach
in the still pools; and Horace Elgert had his canoe, a pretty little
boat--light, easy, and graceful, so long as it was kept away from the
immediate neighbourhood of the weir.
"Oh," growled Warren, as he saw the others. "How jolly annoying!" And
at that Irene burst out laughing, and inquired how anything could
possibly be "jolly annoying."
"Well, very annoying, Miss St. Clive," was Warren's answer. "Just to
think of that lot being here!"
"I don't see that they need annoy us," she answered.
"We will go a little farther along the bank, down by the weir."
Some of the other boys greeted Warren, and raised their hats as they
saw Irene--whom most of them knew by sight; but of Ralph they took no
notice, and Elgert, coming by in his canoe, called out loud enough for
all to hear--
"Keep your eyes on your property, you fellows, you might lose something
here."
"The cad!" muttered Warren, while Irene gave Ralph's arm a little
squeeze, as if to tell him never to mind.
"The cad!" said Warren again. "He would not dare do that if you were in
the playground; and just look at him showing off in that canoe--as if
no one but he could use a paddle."
"He cannot use one," laughed Ralph. "That is not the way to swing it.
He takes it over and over like the sails of a windmill, describing
circles with every stroke."
"Well," asked Warren, "how would you use it? I confess that is the way
I should handle it."
"It is not the right way. It should be swung from side to side, and he
will be over if he tries to play tricks like that"--as Elgert made a
fancy stroke which brought the boat down on one side.--"There, he has
dropped his paddle! Be careful"--and he raised his voice--"Be careful!
He is over!"
Yes; the warning came too late. Elgert reached over to regain his
paddle, the canoe took one sudden lurch, turned bottom up, and sent the
boy struggling into the water. Elgert could not swim--Ralph saw that
at a glance; and, without waiting, off went coat and waistcoat, and
into the river Ralph Rexworth went after his foe--the river that ran so
swiftly on to the boiling, roaring weir.
[Illustration: "INTO THE RIVER RALPH REXWORTH WENT AFTER HIS
FOE." p. 138]
It was a hard fight, but Ralph had the advantage of being carried by
the current right down to the struggling boy, and, ere long, he had
reached him, was gripping his arm, and had commenced the struggle back
to the bank, only to find that Warren was by his side ready to give his
help.
And between them they managed to get Elgert back to the shore. Not
without a big battle, for the water pulled like giant hands, seeking to
sweep them all away. They had to swim in a slanting course, and even
then, ere the bank was reached, they were perilously near to the spot
over which the water took its leap, and where the notice-board with the
big "Danger" was so prominently fixed.
But they managed it; and Elgert was hurried off by his friends, while
Warren and Ralph, soaked as they were, had to race back to Mr. St.
Clive's, with Irene behind them urging them not to stop for her, but to
get back as quickly as ever they could.
Only to think of it! Ralph Rexworth had actually rescued, with the help
of Warren, his enemy Horace Elgert from almost certain death!