CHAPTER XXII

ON PROBATION

By mid-afternoon the news was all over school and conjecture was rife.

Alton took it as a fine joke and laughed and chuckled enjoyably.

Hillsport had been paid back in her own coin, and painting the football

score on Principal Handley’s sacred wall was considered a veritable

master-stroke of genius! Decorating the premises of Hillsport’s chief

of police was also looked on approvingly, for, while it lacked the

magnificence of the other effort, it nevertheless held a touch of

daring that kindled youthful enthusiasm. Some of the seniors shook

their heads and soberly predicted trouble, but others, knowing

themselves innocent, were unconcerned with that feature of the affair.

They wouldn’t have to suffer, so why worry? Oddly enough, the identity

of the heroes remained a mystery, although many fellows looked wise and

pretended to be able to tell a lot if they would. To Bob and Martin and

the others it seemed impossible that none should recall the fact that

they had remained behind when the car that bore the football players

had left the school. But things had been confused that afternoon and

excitement had reigned, and if anyone did recall that significant fact

none made mention of it. You may be certain that none of the four

jogged the memories of any of the others!

Hall restrictions, or hall bounds in student phraseology, was

ordinarily not a very severe infliction. You went to chapel, classes

and meals as usual, but for the rest you stayed in your dormitory

building and let the world wag along without you. You were allowed

the freedom of the recreation room downstairs and you could, if the

hall master saw fit to allow, visit other fellows in the building. So

long as you were not engaged in athletic activities you didn’t suffer

greatly, although after a few days the régime began to seem decidedly

monotonous. In Willard’s case hall bounds was a real punishment since

it meant no more football, and he had very dreary thoughts that Monday

afternoon. As required, he had acquainted Manager Ross of his forced

absence from the field, and Ross had scowled and scolded, and even

stormed a little, but had not, apparently, connected the fact with the

happening at Hillsport on Saturday night.

Willard didn’t dare prophesy to himself what the outcome would be.

He had a well-developed notion that fellows had been expelled from

Alton School for misdemeanors no more heinous. In any case, he was

quite certain that there would be no more football for him that fall,

since even if, by a miracle, his punishment should be ultimately no

worse than at present, a week or a fortnight of absence from practice

would end his usefulness to the team. Coach Cade, he reflected grimly,

wasn’t going to hold the left half-back position open for him! There

were moments when he felt somewhat aggrieved and when he told himself

bitterly that it wasn’t fair that he should be made the goat for the

whole crowd. But second thought did away with all that. If he could

keep the others out of it, he decided, he would do it ungrudgingly,

even if it cost his dismissal. After all, the success of the football

team was the big thing, and, although he couldn’t help any longer with

his playing, he could help a whole big lot by keeping his tongue still.

If Willard couldn’t visit outside Haylow, there was nothing to prevent

occupants of other dormitories visiting him, and after practice that

afternoon four disturbed and perturbed youths sat in Number 16 and

faced a puzzling situation. Martin was strong for confessing and

making a public apology to Doctor Handley at Hillsport, in the hope

that the Alton faculty would be lenient. He was decidedly obstinate

in the matter, and it took much persuasion from Willard and Cal to

alter his view. Bob was the least talkative of the four. He said he

was perfectly willing to do whatever the others decided was best, but

he offered no opinions. Bob blamed himself for the whole affair, from

first to last, ignoring the fact that Cal had originated the scheme,

and insisted that if it hadn’t been for his carelessness it would never

have been connected with Willard. _Mea culpa_ was written large on

Bob’s countenance and Martin’s repeated assertion that they were all

tarred with the same brush--an allusion that made Cal wince, in view of

the fact that his gray suit was costing him two and a half dollars for

cleansing--had no effect on his melancholy.

In the end it was Willard whose words produced conviction. “You fellows

make me tired,” he declared impatiently. “What’s the use of going all

over it a dozen times? The whole thing’s just this: If you fellows

squeal on yourselves it isn’t going to do me any good, so far as I

can see, and it’ll just about bust up the team. With the best right

guard and left tackle out for the rest of the year, what’s going to

happen? You know plaguey well they can’t find fellows to fill your

places in the little time that’s left. We’d get licked good and hard,

and that’s all there is to that. As for faculty being lenient, well,

maybe they might be, but you can bet being lenient won’t let any of us

play football! If we’d done something perfectly mean and putrid I’d

say fess up and take the medicine, but we haven’t. We didn’t any of us

know that Doctor Thingumbob lived in that house. We were just playing

a practical joke and the rest was simply tough luck. You fellows just

keep your silly mouths shut and go on and play football and lick the

hide off Kenly. That’s all you need to do. I’ll take the punishment,

whatever it is, and keep right on smiling. There’s just one thing I

won’t stand for, though.” Willard looked at Bob and Martin fiercely.

“If I get canned and you fellows don’t beat Kenly I’ll come back here

and I’ll--I’ll mighty near kill you!”

“Oh, dry up,” muttered Bob. “You know blamed well we’ll claw the wool

off those guys, Brand! You don’t have to talk that way.”

“It isn’t right, though,” said Martin.

“It’s as right as anything we can do,” asserted Cal. “We haven’t done

anything criminal, even if faculty thinks we have. Brand’s got the

right dope, fellows. There’s no use killing off the team just to--to

salve our consciences. Look here, I don’t play football. I’ll go in

with Brand. Maybe Mac will be easier if there’s two of us.”

“Oh, don’t play the silly goat,” begged Willard. “What good would it

do? Where’s the sense of two getting canned, maybe, instead of one?

Stop chewing the rag, for the love of mud! And pull your face together,

Bob, before it freezes that way. Gosh, anyone would think you were

going to be hung! You fellows beat it out of here before someone

suspects, and stop _looking_ like the criminals you are!”

Willard carried the day.

During the next few days Doctor McPherson summoned various students

before him and questioned them, but learned nothing new. The weekly

faculty meeting was held Wednesday evening, and Thursday morning

Willard found a buff envelope on the mail board in the lower corridor

of Haylow. Inside was a request that he call on the Principal that

afternoon at half-past four at his residence.

“Would you pack up now or wait until afterwards?” asked Willard

smilingly of Martin. Martin, however, refused to treat the matter so

lightly, and growled and fumed at a great rate. At four-thirty Willard

pushed the button beside Doctor McPherson’s front door and was ushered

into a book-lined room on the right. The Doctor arose to meet him and

shook hands, a ceremony dispensed with at the office. Then, when the

visitor was seated, the Doctor picked up a typewritten sheet from the

desk and handed it across.

“Read that, please, Harmon, and tell me whether you wish to sign it,”

he said.

It was a letter to Doctor Handley, at Hillsport School, apologizing

very humbly and, at the same time, very gracefully for what had

happened. It stressed the fact that the writer had not known that he

was defacing school property and was offered “on behalf of myself and

my companions who participated in the regrettable act.” Willard read it

through carefully and laid it back on the edge of the desk.

“Yes, sir,” he said, “I’ll be very glad to sign it.”

“Very well. I am also writing to Doctor Handley and the two letters

will go together.” The Doctor dipped a pen in ink and handed it to

Willard and the latter placed his signature at the bottom of the sheet.

“Thank you.” The Doctor laid the sheet aside and faced the boy again.

“We gave some thought and discussion to your case last night, Harmon,

and, I am glad to tell you, decided to accept your version of the

incident. That is, we reached the conclusion that your statement to the

effect that you and your companions were not aware of the fact that

you were defacing Doctor Handley’s property was true. While you have

been with us but a short time, your hall master and your instructors

spoke extremely well of you, and that weighed in your favor. It was

decided that you are to go on probation for the balance of the term,

a penalty which you will, I think, realize is far from extreme.

Probation, as you doubtless know, requires a certain standing in class

and exemplary conduct. It also denies you certain privileges, amongst

them participation in athletics. I may add that as fast as your fellow

culprits are discovered a like penalty will be awarded to each. I hope

this will be a lesson to you, Harmon. There is a very distinct line

between harmless fun and lawlessness, and I trust that hereafter you

will recognize it.”

Willard returned to Haylow too relieved over his escape from the

extreme penalty to let the matter of probation trouble him for the

time. Martin, returning from practice shortly after, performed a dance

of triumph and joy. “That’s great, Brand!” he declared. “I don’t mind

telling you now that I was fearing the worst. Of course, I didn’t let

you see it-- What are you laughing at?”

“Why, you crazy chump, I could see all along that you thought I was

going to get canned! You’ve been about as jolly as an undertaker!”

“Honest? Well, I’ll tell you one thing you don’t know, son, and that is

that if they had canned you I’d have gone along. I made up my mind to

that!”

“What good would that have done?” jeered Willard.

“Never mind, that’s what would have happened,” replied Martin doggedly.

“Well, don’t be too care-free and light-hearted,” laughed the other.

“Mac says that as fast as you chaps are found out you’ll get the same

medicine.”

“He’s got to find us first,” chuckled Martin. “If he was going to do it

he’d have done it before this.”

“Well, I hope you’re right. How did practice go?”

“Fine! We scored three times on the second. Son, we’ve got a real team

this year!”

“Who was at left half?”

“Mawson most of the time. Longstreth had a whack at it, too. We’re

going to miss you there, Brand.”

“Much obliged,” answered Willard dryly. “I guess you’ll worry along,

though. What’s it like to be on pro?”

Martin’s face sobered as he shook his head. “I’ve never been there yet,

and I hope I never shall, but I guess it’s sort of fairly rotten!”

And so it proved to be. While Willard was no longer confined to the

dormitory, he was not allowed to go on the field and was debarred from

being outside the school property after six in the evening, and the

latter restriction meant that the movies, unless he chose to attend in

the afternoon, would know him no more until after Christmas Recess.

The hardest feature of his punishment, however, was the required

standing in all classes. Marks under 85 drew frowns of disapproval, and

Willard reflected that the rule that kept him inside the grounds in the

evenings was not such a bad one, for only by spending the evenings in

diligent study could he hope to scrape through.

Being forbidden attendance at practice or games did not, however,

prevent him from witnessing the game with New Falmouth High School

on Saturday. He saw it, although at a distance and in a rather

uncomfortable attitude, from Felix McNatt’s window in Upton. McNatt’s

room, while not on the end of the building overlooking the field, was

near the corner and, by opening a window and leaning well out Willard

could see all of the gridiron save the stretch of it close to the

nearer stand. Fortunately for his comfort, the day was only mildly

cold. New Falmouth High was not a formidable antagonist and Alton

had no difficulty in running up 34 points while the adversary was

securing 7. Afterwards it was stated throughout the school that McNatt

won that game single-handed, but that was an exaggeration. True it

is, though, that the full-back carried the ball over for four of the

five touchdowns and was largely instrumental in securing the fifth!

Willard observed from his aery with mingled emotions that Mawson was

far from effectual on attack, although he played a consistently good

game on defense. Cochran, at right half, had an off-day, and Moncks,

who took his place in the third quarter, was not much better. It seemed

to Willard that the Gray-and-Gold deserved a larger score than she

got, for she followed the ball closely, played hard and showed real

end of the season form throughout. Two penalties in the last period

undoubtedly saved the visitor from a worse drubbing. The visitor’s

touchdown was honestly earned in the first few minutes of play when Gil

Tarver’s forward-pass to Lake fell into the hands of the enemy and a

blue-and-white-legged youth raced thirty-odd yards and fell across the

goal-line. A nimble-footed quarter-back added another point.

The New Falmouth game passed into history and Alton faced the next to

the last contest with confidence. Oak Grove Academy was always a worthy

competitor, and this year was to meet Alton on Oak Grove ground, but

the Gray-and-Gold had reached her stride and the only question that

concerned her adherents was the size of the score and whether Oak Grove

would be represented in it. Kenly had played a stiff game with Lorimer

Saturday and had won it in the last five minutes, the final score being

16 to 13. Although the best Alton had been able to do against Lorimer

was to play her to a 3 to 3 tie, the Gray-and-Gold nevertheless found

encouragement in the Kenly-Lorimer game, arguing that Alton’s present

playing was fifty per cent better than it had been a fortnight ago,

granting which a meeting between Alton and Kenly on Saturday would have

found the former easily superior. Whether this reasoning was correct or

not, certain it is that neither players nor adherents doubted Alton’s

ability to beat Oak Grove Academy in most decisive fashion at the end

of the week. But this was before Mr. Kincaid, physics instructor, put

two and two together and beheld a great light.

Left Half Harmon · 第 22 / 24 章