CHAPTER I

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"AS GOLD IN THE FURNACE"

Books by the Same Author

=Harry Russell=; a Rockland College Boy.

12mo, cloth, .85

=Saint Cuthbert's.=

12mo, cloth, .85

=Shadows Lifted.=

12mo, cloth, .85

=Tom Losely: Boy.=

12mo, cloth, .85

=The Making of Mortlake.=

12mo, cloth, .85

=The Son of Siro.= A Novel. Illustrated.

12mo, cloth, 1.50

[Illustration: It was hard! It was a sore trial to give up his dream

of years!--_Page 20._]

"As Gold in the Furnace"

A COLLEGE STORY

(Sequel to "SHADOWS LIFTED")

By Rev. JOHN E. COPUS, S.J.

Author of "Harry Russell," "The Son of Siro," etc.

[Illustration: Small religious line drawing]

NEW YORK, CINCINNATI, CHICAGO

BENZIGER BROTHERS

PRINTERS TO THE | PUBLISHERS OF

HOLY APOSTOLIC SEE | BENZIGER'S MAGAZINE

1910

COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY BENZIGER BROTHERS.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I PAGE

Roy Surprises His Friends 7

CHAPTER II

The Motive 13

CHAPTER III

The Conditions 19

CHAPTER IV

Roy and Garrett 25

CHAPTER V

A Pitching Cage 30

CHAPTER VI

Advice 38

CHAPTER VII

The Little Sisters 45

CHAPTER VIII

Something Happens 56

CHAPTER IX

Who? 64

CHAPTER X

A Day's Adventure 72

CHAPTER XI

An Afternoon's Fun 82

CHAPTER XII

Reports 90

CHAPTER XIII

What Henning Remembered 96

CHAPTER XIV

Facing the Boys 104

CHAPTER XV

Suspicions 111

CHAPTER XVI

Roy Makes a Move 119

CHAPTER XVII

Garrett is Angry 129

CHAPTER XVIII

A Talk 135

CHAPTER XIX

The Unexpected 142

CHAPTER XX

The Fairest Lily 149

CHAPTER XXI

The Passing of Ethel 157

CHAPTER XXII

Roy and His Father 163

CHAPTER XXIII

The Great Blow 170

CHAPTER XXIV

The Fallen Tree 177

CHAPTER XXV

Surprises for Roy 185

CHAPTER XXVI

Stockley's Story 193

CHAPTER XXVII

Stockley's Story (_Continued_) 201

CHAPTER XXVIII

The Unraveled Tangle 206

"AS GOLD IN THE FURNACE"

CHAPTER I

ROY SURPRISES HIS FRIENDS

"I tell you what it is, gentlemen, once for all. I can not go in for

baseball next spring, nor even for the few games we have still to play

this fall."

Roy Henning was talking to a group of college boys of the upper classes

in St. Cuthbert's yard. It was late September and still very warm. The

little gathering of friends found the shade of a large elm tree in one

corner of the yard very grateful. A hearty burst of laughter followed

Roy's announcement. No one for an instant entertained the idea that

Henning was in earnest and meant what he said. Was he not passionately

fond of the game? Had he not, before vacation, been the very best

player on the college diamond?

"Oh! of course not! of course not!" exclaimed Jack Beecham, Roy's

truest friend and constant companion. "Of course not! You're no good

anyway! You couldn't be center-rush on the eleven if you tried! You

don't know a thing about baseball either! Oh! no! And another team

wouldn't do a thing to us if you left the pitcher's box! Oh! no, not

at all!"

"Look here, Jack," said Henning, "I'm in earnest. I am not going to

engage in sports at all this year."

"Not for the money, I know that. It has always cost you a good penny.

But let me assure you, you dear old goose, that you can't come any

sort of game like that on us--not on me, at least. Let me tell you,

Roy boy, that you are most decidedly and most strictly in it, and in

it every time."

"Look here, Jack, will you listen to reason----" began Roy Henning.

"With pleasure, when I find evidence that you are in possession of

that valuable commodity."

"But----" began Roy again.

"That's all right, old fellow. We know your modesty, and all that. We're

also under the impression that you have recently developed a remarkable

penchant--that's the word, isn't it, boys--for practical jokes. But

this time be so condescending as to remember that joke-day--April 1,

you know--is a long way off. See?"

"Yes, I see," replied Henning, "but you fellows will not, nor will you

listen to reason. So it is useless for me to talk."

"That's precisely what we wish to do," said Jack--laughing Jack

Beecham--who struck an attitude and continued, "but you persist in

talking anything but reason. What an incontestably preposterous thing

for you to say that you are not going to play ball. Is a fish going to

swim?"

"Nonsense or not, boys, I have good reason for saying what I have

said. It's a fact. I am not going to play."

Roy Henning's clean-cut, handsome face was flushed at the moment with

vexation. His eyes showed his annoyance, and his brows contracted in

displeasure. It was vexatious enough for him to make--to be compelled

to make--such an announcement to his friends, but his chagrin was

rendered four-fold by having his companions receive his statement with

incredulity. Not the least part of his annoyance came from the fact

that his own particular friend should affect to believe that he was

perpetrating a practical joke, especially as he was very much in

earnest and the announcement had cost him much effort to make.

When Roy Henning first came to St. Cuthbert's, he was a narrow-chested,

weakly boy of very quiet manners and of a retiring disposition, as the

readers of the chronicles of St. Cuthbert boys may remember.

Month after month, however, saw him growing stronger and taller and

more robust, until now, in his last year at college, he was one of the

biggest boys in the yard, with the strength of a giant, and, as some

who knew declared, the grip of a blacksmith. The opportunities of

acquiring brawn and muscle he had not neglected, resulting in a

proficiency in running, jumping, swimming, and boating, and in all the

manly and invigorating exercises of school life.

He was well aware how much the success of next summer's baseball

season really depended on him. He knew, also, what the boys expected

of him. They all regarded it as a foregone conclusion that he would

again be the captain and the principal pitcher on next season's team.

No one but himself knew what annoyance it had been to him to make the

statement which his hearers had refused to accept otherwise than as

the merest joking. Yet he intended to give up sports for this school

year. Why? The reason for so doing, and all the consequences that such

a course of action brought in its train, will constitute the following

narrative.

Roy's eyes, quick to sparkle in fun, quick to soften in sympathy, yet

quicker to glitter with indignation at any exhibition of smallness or

meanness, just now had a look in them other than was their wont. Their

owner was annoyed because the boys standing around him seemed determined

not to take him seriously, and this annoyance could be seen. For a

moment he felt a strong throb of anger, such as quickens the pulse,

and the hasty word was on the tip of his tongue, but he checked

himself in time. Why should he not be believed when he had made a

plain statement and had reiterated it? Yet there was a smile as of

incredulity on nearly all the faces grouped around him.

The truth of the matter was that Jack Beecham and his companions were

hoping against hope. They clearly saw Henning's annoyance, and several

of them had more than a suspicion that, after all, he meant exactly

what he had said. Beecham's badinage was only a cover for his

uneasiness.

A silence fell on the group, during which, to their nimble imaginations,

visions of future victories on the diamond grew dim, for every boy

there had the most unlimited confidence in the proven prowess of

Henning to lead them to victory.

"But, Roy," said Tom Shealey, a short, thick-set, sturdy, whole-souled

boy, who had a habit of calling a spade a spade: "Give us your reason.

You are not sick?"

"No, not sick, certainly," said Henning, smiling at such an idea.

"What's your reason, then?--supposing you have a reason and are not

joking."

"I'm not joking, Tom," said Henning, "but I can not give you my

reason."

"Guess he has none," said Andrew Garrett, a youth who affected a blue

sweater instead of a coat and vest and whose face was not a

healthy-looking one. "Guess he has no reason. He's merely posing."

The remark vexed Henning all the more that it came from his own cousin,

to whom in a difficult situation he might have looked naturally for some

form of support.

"Stop that, Garrett," said Tom Shealey, hotly. "Do you wish to insult

your own cousin? I'd rather believe him than you--there! If Roy says

he has reasons for acting as he is doing and does not want to give

them to us, I believe he has them anyway. I guess you don't know your

own cousin as well as we do."

"Well, why doesn't he give his reasons for not playing?" asked

Garrett, sulkily.

"Because," answered Henning, with no little natural dignity, "I do not

feel at liberty to do so. If I did I would give them readily. Believe

me, boys, it is not by my own choice that I resign my position on the

baseball and football teams."

"We believe you, Roy," said Shealey. "Although we regret your action,

we believe you have good reasons; don't we, Beecham?"

Jack Beecham nodded affirmatively. "Yes," he replied, after a moment's

silence, "I joked at first only because I thought Roy was joking. Sorry

he wasn't. Garrett, you had better believe what your cousin says. He is

not accustomed to lie into or out of a thing."

This remark was received by Garrett in silence. With a look unpleasant

enough to be considered a leer on his face he walked away, but Shealey's

innuendo, as we shall see later, had more significance for the one to

whom it was directed than the rest of the group realized. Were it not on

account of the relationship with Roy, the boys in general would have

ignored Garrett. Winters and Hunter and Stapleton and Clavering were

gone from St. Cuthbert's, having graduated the previous year. Henning

and Ambrose Bracebridge, Rob Jones and Tom Shealey were taking their

places, and among these Henning was most popular.

In a few minutes Henning walked away, and his friends began freely to

discuss his decision, vaguely guessing at the motive which prompted it,

and entirely unsuccessful in arriving at any solution of the difficulty.

"Of course," said Jack Beecham to Shealey, as they strolled about the

yard somewhat disconsolately, "Henning must have some good reason for

backing out, but I am more sorry than I can say that he has done so. I

am afraid things are going to be mighty unpleasant for him in

consequence."

"I, too, am afraid they will be."

"Well, I'm going to stick to him, come what may."

"Same here," replied Shealey. "It won't be hard to do that, because he

is the soul of honor and a royal good fellow. You might as soon expect

anything wrong with him as--as to see----"

"You at the head of your class in next examination," interrupted Jack.

"Thanks! Or to see you heading the philosophers."

"Thanks, too."

"As Gold in the Furnace" : A College Story · 第 1 / 28 章