THE FORM AT THE WINDOW
Ned had been through a hard session that had not ended for him until
after four o’clock, and he was very far from certain that his answers
to Questions V and VIII were going to please Mr. Pennington. A game of
golf with Dan Whipple arranged for four o’clock had not materialized,
and Ned had returned to No. 16 to spend the remainder of the afternoon
worrying about the Latin examination. About 5:30 Laurie came in. Laurie
had a bright-red flush under his left eye and looked extremely angry.
“What did you do to your face?” asked Ned.
Laurie viewed himself in the mirror above his chiffonier before
replying. Then, “I didn’t do anything to it,” he answered a bit
sulkily. “That’s what Elk Thurston did.”
“For the love of mud!” exclaimed Ned. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone and
had a fight!”
“I’m not going to,” responded Laurie briefly, sinking into a chair.
“Well, then what――”
“Shut up and I’ll tell you,” said Laurie crossly. “We were playing
the scrubs, and Simpson had an exam and wasn’t there, and Pinky put
me to catching for them. Elk came sprinting in from third on a little
in-field hit, and I got the ball and blocked him easy. He was out a
yard from the plate, and that made him mad; that and the fact that
he’d made an ass of himself by trying to score, with only one out, on
a hit to short-stop. So he jumped up and made a great howl about my
having spiked him. Of course I hadn’t. All I had done was block him off
when he tried to slide. Cooper told him to shut up, and he went off
growling.”
“Well, how did you get――”
“I’m telling you, if you’ll let me! After practice I was walking back
with Kewpie and Pat Browne, and just before we got to the fence across
the road down there Elk came up and grabbed me by the arm and pulled me
around. That made me mad, anyhow, and then he began calling me names
and saying what he’d do if I wasn’t too little, and I swung for him.
Missed him, dog-gone it! Then he handed me this and I got him on the
neck and the others butted in. That’s all there was to it. How’s the
silly thing look?”
“It looks punk,” answered Ned unsympathetically. “Better go down and
bathe it in hot water and then put some talcum on it. Gosh, son, I
should think you’d have more sense than to get in a brawl with Elk
Thurston. That rough-neck stuff doesn’t get you anywhere and――”
“For the love of limes, shut up!” exclaimed Laurie. “I didn’t start it!”
“You didn’t? Didn’t you just say that you hit him first――or tried to?”
“What of it? Wouldn’t you have struck him if he’d called you all sorts
of names, like that? I’ll say you would! You’re always strong on the
‘calm yourself’ stuff, but I notice that when any one gets fresh with
you――”
“I don’t pick quarrels and slug fellows right under the eyes of
faculty, you idiot! For that matter――”
“Oh, forget it!” growled Laurie. “What difference does it make _where_
you do it? You give me a pain!”
“You give me worse than that,” replied Ned angrily. “You look like――like
a prize-fighter with that lump on your cheek. It’s a blamed shame he
didn’t finish the job, I say!”
“Is that so? Maybe you’d like to finish it for him, eh? If you think
you would, just say so!”
Ned shrugged contemptuously. “Guess you’ve had enough for one day,” he
sneered. “Take my advice and――”
“Your advice!” cried Laurie shrilly. “Your advice! Yes, I’m likely to,
you poor shrimp!” He jumped to his feet and glared at Ned invitingly.
“You make me sick, Ned, you and your advice. Get it? You haven’t got
enough spunk to resent a whack on the nose!”
“Oh, don’t shout like a cheap skate,” answered Ned disgustedly. “Go and
fix yourself up, if you can, so I won’t be ashamed to go to supper with
you!”
Laurie glared, swallowed hard, and finally nodded. “Listen,” he said
slowly. “You don’t have to be seen with me if it offends your delicate
sensibilities. Get it? And, what’s more, I don’t want to be seen with
you. I’m particular, too, you big bluff. When you want to go to supper,
you go!”
Laurie grabbed wash-cloth and towel, strode across the room, and
slammed the door resoundingly behind him. Left alone, Ned shrugged
angrily. “Ugly-tempered brute,” he muttered.
When supper-time came he descended alone to the dining-hall. Laurie
had not returned to the room. Laurie arrived a few minutes late, with
Kewpie, and took the seat at Ned’s left in silence. He had put talc
powder over the abrasion on his cheek-bone, and at a little distance
it would not have been noticed. Nearer, however, the lump was plainly
visible and seemed to be still swelling. Ned caught a glimpse of it
from the corner of his eye, but his irritation still continued, and he
offered no comment.
After supper both boys returned to No. 16, although not together, and
for two hours occupied opposite sides of the table, and crammed for
their last examination, which was due at ten to-morrow. Neither spoke
once during the evening. At nine Laurie closed his books and went
out. Half an hour later Ned undressed and went to bed. Sleep didn’t
come readily, for there was to-day’s examination to worry about,
and to-morrow’s, too, for he hadn’t made much of that two hours of
preparation, he feared; and then there was this silly quarrel with
Laurie. He guessed he had been as much to blame as his brother, but
there was no sense in any one’s getting mad the way Laurie had. When
Laurie was ready to make friends, why, he’d be ready, too, but that
silly goop needn’t expect him to lick his shoes! No, sir, if Laurie
wanted to make up he could jolly well say so!
Sleep did come at last, and when he awoke it seemed hours later. The
room was in black darkness, but the squares of the wide open windows
were slightly grayer. What had awakened him he at first didn’t know.
Then his gaze caught a darker something against the gray-black of the
nearer casement opening, something that scuffled on the stone ledge
and grew larger as he wondered and watched. He opened his mouth to
speak, and then remembered that he and Laurie were at outs. The form
disappeared from sight, and footsteps went softly across the boards,
were muffled on the rug, and sounded again by the door. The door
was opened, and for a moment Ned mentally pictured the boy peering
anxiously out into the dim hall. Then the door closed again, and after
a short silence Laurie’s bed creaked. To prove to the other that his
return had not been made unknown, Ned sat up in the blackness and
thumped his pillow, striving to express disapprobation in the thumps.
Across the room the faint stirrings ceased, and silence reigned again.
Ned smiled grimly. Laurie had probably thought that by being so quiet
he could get in without his brother’s knowing it, but he had shown him!
Then Ned’s satisfaction faded. What the dickens had Laurie been doing
out at this time of night? It must be twelve, or even later! If he had
been up to mischief――but of course he had; a fellow didn’t climb into
his room by the window unless he had something to hide. Even being out
after ten o’clock was a punishable offense! Ned began to worry. Suppose
some one had seen Laurie. Why had Laurie gone to the door and listened
unless he had suspected some one of having seen him? The idiot! The
chump! The――
Over his head he heard a board creak. He listened. The sound reached
him again. In Elk Thurston’s room some one was up, too. Or had he
imagined it? All was quiet now. Was it possible that Laurie and Elk had
been settling their score? Surely not at this time of night. And yet――
From across the room came the unmistakable sounds of deep and regular
breathing. Laurie was asleep beyond a doubt! Ned frowned disgustedly.
Here he was worrying himself about a silly coot that was fast asleep!
He poked his head resolutely into his pillow. All right! He guessed he
could do that, too! And presently he did.
In the morning Ned waited for Laurie to break the ice, but Laurie
didn’t. Laurie went about his task of dressing in silence. There was
a sort of stern look in his face in place of the sullen expression of
last evening, and more than once Ned caught him looking across in an
oddly speculative way. The last time Ned caught him at it he began to
feel uneasy, and he wanted very much to ask what Laurie meant by it.
It was almost as if Laurie had caught _him_ at something, instead of
its being just the other way about! But he was too stubborn to speak
first, and they went out of the room with the silence still unbroken.
At breakfast, Mr. Brock, at whose table they sat, made the disquieting
announcement that Edward and Laurence Turner were wanted at the
Doctor’s study at 8:30. Involuntarily the gaze of the two boys met
swiftly. Each thought at once of examinations, although further
consideration told them that it was still too soon for any shortcomings
of theirs to reach the principal.
Although they had entered the dining-hall separately, now a common
uneasiness took them together to the Doctor’s, albeit in silence. They
were asked to be seated, which they accepted as a favorable sign, but
there was, nevertheless, something unsympathetic in Dr. Hillman’s
countenance. The latter swung himself around in his chair and faced
them, his head thrust forward a little because of a near-sightedness
not wholly corrected by his spectacles. And then Laurie observed that
the Doctor was gazing intently at a point just under his left eye,
and told himself that the summons was explained. He was, though, still
wondering why Ned had been included in the party when the Doctor spoke.
“Laurence,” he asked, “how did you come by that contusion?”
Laurie hesitated, then answered, “I was having a――a little bout with
one of the fellows and he struck me, sir.”
“Who was the boy?”
“Thurston, sir.”
“Have you witnesses to prove that?”
“Yes, sir, several fellows were there. Pat――I mean Patton Browne, and
Proudtree and――”
“When did it take place, this――ah――bout?”
“Yesterday afternoon, about half-past five.”
The Doctor mused a minute. Then, “Which of you boys entered your room
by the window last night at about a quarter before twelve o’clock?” he
asked. The question was so unexpected that Laurie’s mouth fell open
widely. Then, as neither boy answered, the Doctor continued: “Was it
you, Laurence?”
“N-no, sir!” blurted Laurie.
Then, ere the words were well out, he wished them back, and in a
sudden panic he added, “I mean――”
But the Doctor had turned to Ned. “Was it you, Edward?” he asked.
Ned’s gaze dropped from the Doctor’s, and for an instant he made no
reply. Then he raised his eyes again, and, “I’d rather not say, sir,”
he announced respectfully but firmly.
There followed another brief silence. Laurie was trying hard not to
look at Ned. The Doctor was thoughtfully rolling a pencil across the
big blotter under the palm of one hand. Ned watched him and waited.
Then the Doctor looked up again.
“You are, of course,” he said not unkindly, “privileged to refuse to
answer, Edward, but when you do there is but one construction to be
placed on your refusal. I presume that you did climb into your room by
a window last night. I confess that I don’t understand it, for this
is the first time since you came to us that your conduct has been
questioned. If you are shielding another――” his glance swept to Laurie
and away again――“you are doing wrong. Punishment that falls on an
innocent party fails of its purpose. I am, therefore, going to ask you
to reconsider, Edward. It will be better for every one if you answer
‘yes’ or ‘no’ to my question.”
Ned returned the principal’s gaze straightly. “I’d rather not, sir,” he
replied.
“Very well, but I warn you that your offense is a very serious
one and that it calls for a drastic penalty. Were you alone in
the――ah――escapade?”
Ned looked puzzled. “Sir?” he asked.
“I asked you――But you need not answer that. I’ll put it another way.
There were two of you in the car according to an eye-witness. Who was
the other boy?”
“Car?” faltered Ned. “What car, sir?”
The Doctor frowned disapprovingly. “It is so futile, my boy,” he said,
“to act this way.” He turned to Laurie. “What do you know about this,
Laurence? You have said that you did not enter your room last night by
the window. At what time did you return to your room? Where were you,
for instance, at, say, a quarter to twelve?”
“I was in bed, sir.”
“What time did you go to bed?”
“About ten minutes past ten.”
“Where was Edward then?”
“In bed, sir, and asleep.”
“What? You are telling me the truth? Did you see him there?”
“Yes, sir.”
The Doctor frowned perplexedly. “Then you know nothing of any one’s
having entered your room by a window close to midnight?”
Laurie hesitated now. Then, “I went to sleep about ten minutes after I
got in bed, sir, and so I wouldn’t be likely――”
“Please answer my question,” interrupted the Doctor coldly.
“I’d rather not, sir,” said Laurie.
“One more question, then,” announced the inquisitor grimly. “Were you
in Mr. Wells’s automobile last evening when it collided with a hydrant
on Washington Street at approximately half-past eleven?”
“Why, no, sir! I didn’t know it had――had collided!”
Ned was looking rather white.
“You know nothing about the incident?”
“No, sir!”
“And you, Edward?”
“No, sir.”
“But, if you deny the automobile part of it, why not deny the rest? I
see, though. You knew that Mr. Cornish had seen you climbing in at the
window. I’m afraid you won’t get anywhere that way, Edward. Mr. Wells’s
car was taken from the front of the school last evening and driven out
Washington Street six blocks, where it was in collision with a hydrant.
It was abandoned there. A reliable witness states positively that there
were two persons in the car just before the accident. About ten or
twelve minutes later Mr. Cornish saw some one climb up the Washington
Street side of East Hall and disappear through your window. Those are
the facts, Edward. The evidence against you is so far circumstantial,
but you must acknowledge that the incident of the car and that of
your――of some one’s entrance into your room by the window look to be
more than a mere coincidence. In other words, whoever entered your room
at midnight was in the stolen car a quarter of an hour before. That’s a
fair and very natural assumption. If I were you, I’d think the matter
over carefully and see me again before eight o’clock this evening,
at which time it will come before the faculty conference. And now,
Laurence, let me have those names once more.” He drew a scratch-pad to
him and poised a pencil. “You say Elkins Thurston struck you and that
Proudtree, Browne, and――who else was there?”
“Lew Cooper and Gordon Simkins were there when――right afterward, sir,
and I guess they saw it.”
“Thank you. That is all, then. I shall have to ask both of you to
remain in bounds until this matter is――ah――settled. Good morning.”
“But――but, Doctor, I’m――I’m on the baseball team, sir!” exclaimed
Laurie in almost horrified accents. “We play this afternoon!”
“I’m sorry, Laurence,” was the reply, “but until you are more frank in
your answers I shall have to consider you under suspicion, also.”
“Well,” said Laurie bitterly, when they were outside, “you certainly
have made a mess of things!”
“I!” exclaimed Ned incredulously, “_I’ve_ made a mess of things? What
about you?”
“Me? What could I say?” countered Laurie hotly. “I did all I could!”
“All right,” said Ned wearily. “Let’s drop it. He won’t be able to pin
anything on you. You’ll get out of it all right.”
There was a trace of bitterness in Ned’s voice, and Laurie scowled.
“Well, he asked me so suddenly,” he muttered apologetically, “I――I just
said what came into my head. I’m sorry. I’d have refused to answer if
he hadn’t sprung it so quick.”
“It would have been rather more――rather less contemptible,” answered
Ned coldly.
Laurie flushed. “Thanks! I guess that’ll be about all from you, Ned.
When I want any more of your brotherly remarks I’ll let you know!” He
swung aside and left Ned to go on alone to No. 16.
The story of the purloining of the physical director’s blue roadster
was all over school by that time. Ned got the full details from Kewpie.
Mr. Wells had left the car in front of School Hall, as he very often
did, and was playing a game of chess with Mr. Pennington. Shortly after
half-past eleven he had looked for the car, had failed to find it, and
had hurried to the corner. There he had met a man coming down Walnut
Street who, when questioned, said that he had seen such a car as Mr.
Wells’s about five blocks east, where Washington and Walnut Streets
come together, not longer ago than five minutes. There were two persons
in it, and the car was not being driven more than, possibly, twenty
miles an hour. Mr. Wells had gone out Walnut Street and found the car
with one front wheel on the sidewalk, the mud-guard on that side torn
off, and the radiator stove in. There was no one about. The car wasn’t
very badly damaged, it was said, but Mr. Wells was awfully mad about
it. It was down in Plummer’s Garage, and Ned could see it if he wanted
to. Kewpie had seen it. It looked fierce, but maybe it wouldn’t cost
more than a hundred dollars to fix it up again!
“Know who did it?” asked Ned.
“Me? I’ll say I don’t!” Kewpie laughed relievedly. “I guess it was
professional automobile thieves, all right, though. They were probably
heading for Windsor. That’s a dark corner up there, and I guess they
lost the road and turned too quick. They must have lost their nerve,
for Mr. Wells drove the car down to the garage and it went all right,
they say. Guess they thought it was done for and didn’t try to see if
it would still go. Sort of a joke on them, wasn’t it?”
“I suppose,” said Ned carelessly, “none of our fellows are suspected?”
“Of course not. Why, it happened after half-past eleven! Say, you
haven’t――haven’t heard anything?” Kewpie’s eyes grew round with
excitement. “Say, Ned, what is it?” But Ned shook his head wearily.
“I know no more of the business than you do, Kewpie. Now beat it, will
you? I’ve got an exam at ten.”