FACING THE BOYS
When Roy Henning entered the college chapel at half-past six to attend
Mass, his movements from the time he appeared at the door until he had
taken his seat were watched by many scores of pairs of curious eyes.
To even the small boys, who came near the big fellows only in the
chapel, Roy was an object of deep interest, for by some means the
reports and rumors of the big yard had seeped through to the small
division, and the most wonderfully distorted stories had been
circulated. Henning had been attacked, fought desperately, conquered
and bound, three men single-handed. He had been captured and carried
away by burglars (wasn't he absent all day?) to their cave, and gained
his liberty by the most daring feats of skill and bravery! Young
imaginations are active, and young tongues more so.
The Philosophers--Henning's class--occupied the front benches in the
chapel. When Bracebridge and Henning came in they had as yet met no
boys since the public knowledge of the discovery of the robbery. Roy
was in some peculiar way quite conscious that his advance along the
aisle was causing quite a commotion, although its manifestation was
decorous on the part of the boys, owing to the place in which they
were gathered, and to their reverence for its divine Guest.
Rob Jones occupied the outer seat of the bench. As the two friends
were passing him he turned his knees aside for them to do so and took
Roy's hand and gave it a warm squeeze. The pressure was gratefully
returned. Roy took heart. Much strengthened by this show of sympathy,
he determined to meet all inquiries after breakfast and give all the
information he possessed to any one who should ask.
His regret over the loss was as poignant as when it was first
discovered, but in some way he now felt that he could face all the
boys and answer all their questions. He could not have done this the
day before. Perhaps Jones' unspoken sympathy had given him courage.
As he expected, a large group gathered around him after breakfast.
"How did it all happen?" asked John Stockley, anxious to learn the
particulars down to the minutest detail.
Henning gave them all the information he possessed. When the
discussion had died down a little, he said: "As far as I can see, the
thief must have entered through the window."
"From the yard side, or the garden side?"
"There is but one window, if you remember, in the committee-room, and
that is on the yard side. All the windows on the garden side are in
the playroom outside the committee-room."
"That's true, come to think of it," said Stockley; "but could not the
thief have gone in by the playroom by way of the partition door?"
"I do not think so," answered Roy, "because, you know the door has a
Yale lock, and I am the only one who has a key to it, except Mr.
Shalford."
"It is not likely that he robbed the drawer," said Stockley with a
laugh. "We are all very sorry for you and you have our sympathy."
Stockley looked around, and the others in the group nodded in
affirmation.
"Thanks. You are very kind. You can not regret this occurrence more
than I do, especially since I failed to take Bracebridge's advice to
put the money in a safer place."
"It's lucky that a fellow like you lost that money, and not a poor
beggar like me," remarked Smithers, who was standing on the outer edge
of the gathering. Henning looked sharply at the speaker:
"Why?" he asked.
"Simply because a fellow like you who always has plenty of money will
find no difficulty in replacing that which is gone. Such a thing would
be impossible for impecunious me," and the speaker turned his empty
trousers' pockets inside out, and spun around on his heel. A few
laughed, but the majority were silent, not liking the clownish
exhibition of bad taste.
Henning was, naturally under the circumstances, in a nervous
condition. He at once suspected that this Smithers was merely the
spokesman of many others, and that he was expressing their sentiments
as to what his line of action should be. Whether he acted judiciously
or not in this immature stage of developments, we leave to subsequent
events to determine. He replied, and rather warmly, too:
"I don't know so much about that, Smithers. It may turn out to be the
misfortune of all, at least of all who contributed. I really do not
remember whether you gave anything or not. I shall certainly not make
up the loss unless the President fully convinces me that I am under
obligation to do so. I am going to see him now. Even should he decide
against me I do not know whether I shall be able to replace the money."
A faint murmur of surprise and dissatisfaction, Henning was convinced,
ran through the increasing group, as he, in company with Bracebridge,
moved away toward the President's office.
The two walked slowly away from the crowd of boys. Bracebridge
appeared to be thinking deeply. He had something to say, but hesitated
to say it. Ambrose, with the instincts of a born gentleman, was always
extremely careful of the feelings of others.
"Roy!"
"Yes."
"You said just now to that cad of a fellow that you did not know----"
"Whether I should be able to repay the money. Yes. What of it?"
"That is a startling statement----"
"Not so very. But in the first place I am not at all sure that I shall
be held responsible. Look here, Brose----"
They stopped at the foot of the steps leading to the President's room.
"Look here. Supposing there had been a fire, and the money had been
burned. I should not have been told to restore it, should I?"
"I do not know that you would be held."
"Now if one undertakes to hold money temporarily for others, and takes
ordinary precautions for safe-keeping, do you think he would be held
responsible for it if it were stolen?"
"But the safer plan would have been----"
"Am I held to take the safer plan? Of course, I regret that I did not
take the safer plan, as you suggested, but am I held to have taken the
safer plan? Wasn't the ordinary precaution sufficient? The door of
that room was locked, the drawer of the table was locked, and it was
not generally known that I kept the money there at all."
"You seem to make out a good case for yourself," said Bracebridge
laughing, "but we will let the President decide the case. It is too
hard for us. But I did not intend to talk about that."
"What then, old fellow?"
"You told Smithers, for the benefit of the whole yard I take it, that
you did not know whether you would be able to pay back the money. Now
I thought----"
But he stopped awkwardly upon seeing the deep blushes suffuse
Henning's brow. What had he said? Were these blushes of shame or
vexation? What could possibly be the matter?
"I--I--thought--that--I thought----" he stammered, at a loss how to
proceed.
"Go on, old man. I know that whatever you would say, you do not intend
to wound me."
"Thank you, Roy. That's perfectly true. But perhaps I should not have
broached the subject at all."
"Go on; go on."
"Well, if you insist. I thought that you always had plenty of money.
From what you say it seems that this is not the case. Now if--if you
will allow me--if I might--if you would not be offended--if--oh! you
understand me, Roy," he blurted out at last. "I want to help you pay
it back."
Henning did not speak: indeed he could not have done so just at that
moment. There was a very big lump in his throat. He hemmed and coughed
once or twice, but that only made it worse. Bracebridge saw his
friend's embarrassment, but did not speak. He took Roy's hand.
"I understand--true friend," said Roy, huskily, "but I can not
explain."
He was silent for some time. He then said, partly to himself and
partly aloud--"but I can. Why should I not do so? He is true and
loyal. My father put no conditions of secrecy on me, or on his
strange action. Ambrose?"
"Well?"
"Will you listen to me?"
"Of course I'll listen to you."
"Thank you. In order that you may know why I believe I shall not be
able to pay back that money, I must first tell you of a peculiar thing
my father has thought fit to impose upon me."
"Go ahead then, but since confidences are in order, let me tell you
one first, which will make your story easier to tell, more probably.
Next year you are going to study for the priesthood!"
"How on earth did you learn that?"
"At the Little Sisters' dinner. I was an unintentional eavesdropper,
and I heard you say to the chaplain, as I was passing with some dish
or something, these words--'for my own diocese: next year.' Let me
congratulate you, Roy, on your choice. I have always thought ever
since I first knew you that you were worthy of that high calling."
"You do surprise me, indeed," said Roy, "but your knowledge does not
make my story the easier to tell."
Roy Henning then told Ambrose of his desire to enter the seminary, of
his broaching the subject to his father during the last vacation, and
of the strange test to which his father had thought fit to subject
him.
"Now, Ambrose," he said, when he had finished his narration, "you may
understand my conduct in refusing to play ball this year, on account
of which so many of the boys seemed so disappointed. I have met with
so many annoyances since last September that more than once before
this loss of yesterday I had all but determined to leave old St.
Cuthbert's, and be quit of it all. I would have done so if it had not
been for you and Jack and Tom."
"I am sincerely glad you did not."
"Well, I do not know whether I am. But let me go back to my subject.
You see, that with my father's present peculiar view of things, it is
by no means certain that he will make good this loss, and if he
refuses I shall be in a bad pickle."
"Oh, Roy!" said Bracebridge, with a vehemence that was almost passion,
"let me do it. Let me do it for you. You know my father. You know that
he has every confidence in me; he is not a crank, and----"
"Stop, Ambrose," said Roy, "I can not allow you, even by implication,
to speak disrespectfully of my father. That I do not understand his
motives is true. That it is mighty hard on me is equally true, but he
is my father."
"There!" said the other in dismay. "I am always putting my foot into
it. Forgive me. I didn't mean anything; indeed I did not. Oh! Roy, you
know what I mean. Let me help you out of this. It's as easy as A-B-C,
you know. No one need know. Pshaw! one would be a poor friend, if,
when quite able, he should hang back."
"Thanks, dear old fellow. Many thanks. We will see. We will see. If it
comes to the worst, I won't hesitate to talk to you again about this.
In the meantime we will drop it for the present."
With this Ambrose had to be content. The two friends then rapped at
the President's door.