VOICES
Jeff staggered back as if he had been struck a blow in the face. Was
this treachery? The evidence was certainly accusing.
But suddenly his nervousness passed and just anger and resentment took
its place. His face became red and he could feel his collar grow too
tight for him.
“Of all the rotten, crooked tricks, this is the worst I have ever
heard of, sir,” he exclaimed. “Now I know why that book was not in my
pocket where I put it and where I knew it should be. Whoever stole the
examination papers also stole my book from my pocket and put one of the
papers in it. Then he left the book where it would be found and turned
in at the office, so you could find this evidence. That is just about
the meanest trick a fellow could do.”
Dr. Livingston looked at him searchingly for several seconds and it
seemed to Jeff as if the cloud that had settled over the Headmaster
lifted just a little.
“Thatcher, did you enter Room 44?” he said sternly and in a manner that
demanded a truthful answer.
“No, sir. I have never been in the room, sir,” said Jeff drawing
himself up erect and looking the Master squarely in the eyes.
“Did you steal the examination papers that are missing?” continued Dr.
Livingston.
“I did not. I have never before seen that paper that you just showed me
folded in my book.”
“Do you know anything about this disagreeable situation at all,”
demanded Dr. Livingston, finally.
“Nothing more than you have told me right here, sir!” replied Jeff.
Dr. Livingston was silent for several seconds. Again he spoke:
“Thatcher, I believe you. But here is mighty unpleasant circumstantial
evidence that I must accept until a better case can be made out for
your defense or damnation. Until then you are barred from taking the
final examination. Of course, you are set down from the baseball team
and any other athletic team in school. You must keep within bounds at
all times and you must be in your room at eight o’clock every evening.
I’m very sorry, Thatcher, but you realize the seriousness of the
situation. I am going to conduct an immediate investigation and will
clear this thing up as soon as possible and”――the Headmaster stood up
and put his hand on Jeff’s shoulder――“Thatcher, I hope you are telling
the truth and that you can prove your statements, for, my boy, I like
you a great deal and it would hurt me more than you can believe to know
that you were party to any dishonorable acts. When I saw your name in
this book here it made me feel sick at heart, my boy. Go, now, and we
will try to work this out happily for you, anyway.”
Jeff could not choke back a lump that came into his throat as the
kindly Headmaster spoke to him, and in spite of his best efforts tears
mounted to his eyes and spilled over onto his cheek. He had never had
the benefit of paternal affection and the fatherly attitude of the
venerable Dr. Livingston reached a strangely responsive heartstring.
“Thank you, sir,” he said in a thick voice as he turned to leave the
office.
Jeff was considerably disturbed by the developments of the morning
and he went to his classes in a strangely confused and upset state of
mind. Indeed, it was not until the noon recess period, just before the
mid-day meal, that he managed to get control of himself again, and then
only after he had had a long talk with his roommate, Wade Grenville.
“Whe-e-w-w-w,” whistled Wade, when Jeff unburdened himself to his chum,
“of all the rotten dirty, skunky tricks in the world, there never was a
worse one than that. And believe me, old kid, I think I know the birds
who did it.”
“Who?” said Jeff, in a manner indicating clearly that he, too, had
already made up his mind as to who was at the bottom of it all.
“Why, Gould and Birdie Pell, of course. There aren’t any other fellows
in the school who would stoop to a trick as low as that,” said Wade
with conviction.
“Well, I suspect Gould myself. But――er――well, I can’t believe Pell
would do anything like that,” said Jeff.
“Tut-tut――he’s as bad as Gould. Wouldn’t wonder but that Gould had
talked him into doing it and kept his own skirts clean.”
“No, no. I can’t believe that,” said Jeff.
“It’s a mighty rotten set up just the same――and――by jingoes something
should be done about it. Something――er――say, Jeff, this is a matter
for we students to take a hand in. By jingoes, we’ve got to find the
cowards who are responsible and show them up. I’m for that. I’ll get
Buck Hart and Rabbit Warren and Lafe Gammage and Honey Wiggins and a
couple others and we’ll find the skunk who did it or――”
“No. Don’t do that, Wade. Don’t――”
“Tut-tut, Little One. You haven’t got a word to say. I’m going to run
this end of it. Not a word now. I’ll tell you all about it after the
thing is all over,” said Wade.
And in spite of Jeff’s best efforts to persuade his roommate not to
interfere Wade took it upon himself to spread the news of what had
happened among all of Jeff’s friends, and organize his special little
committee of students who were to take it upon themselves to smoke out
the fellow or fellows behind the “frame up” as they chose to call it.
Indeed, Wade worked so well that by the end of the afternoon session
the committee’s plans were all laid, but he refused to divulge anything
to Jeff.
But during the afternoon a new development entered the situation,
which, while it helped matters a little, did not tend to remove all
suspicion from Jeff. At about the time the baseball men were gathering
at the gym. for the regular afternoon practice word was sent to Jeff’s
room to report to Dr. Livingston again. He was quick to obey the
summons and at the office he found Professor Hatfield in conference
with Dr. Livingston.
“Thatcher,” said Dr. Livingston, “Professor Hatfield has just shed some
light on the unpleasant situation we were discussing this morning, and
while it does not entirely clear you from having the Latin examination
paper in your possession it does absolve you and every other boy in the
school from the breach of school honor in entering Room 44. Professor
Hatfield has charge of that room, as you know, and he is the custodian
of the examination papers. He tells me that yesterday at noon he
entered the room and took a copy of the Freshman Latin examination
away with him, putting it in his inside pocket, so he believed. But
when he went to look for it late last night he discovered that it was
gone. He has tried to trace back in his memory how he might have been
responsible for its disappearance and he has come to the conclusion
that he must have lost it out of his pocket while crossing the campus.
That explains the paper missing from Room 44 and it removes any
suspicion that you or any one else had broken the school’s code of
honor and entered Room 44 without permission. Now, then, Thatcher,
that brings me to the point of asking you more questions and I want
you on your honor as a gentleman to answer me truthfully and take your
punishment if punishment is coming to you.”
“Dr. Livingston, I am always truthful, and I have always taken whatever
punishment is coming to me in a manly fashion, I believe,” said Jeff.
“Yes, I think you have,” said the Headmaster.
“What questions do you want to ask me, then?” asked Jeff.
“Did you find the paper Professor Hatfield lost?” asked Dr. Livingston.
“No, sir,” said Jeff.
“You are sure you did not pick it up, and noting what it was decided to
look it over first before reporting it and returning it to me?”
“No, sir. I never saw the paper before you showed it to me this
morning, sir,” said Jeff.
“All right, but the evidence is against you, Thatcher, and I must
still deny you certain privileges. You will be permitted to take the
final examinations. We will work out a new set of Latin questions, so
as to be certain that this missing paper has not passed through more
than your hands. But you must remain within bounds, be in your room at
the hour I designated this morning, and you cannot take part in any
athletic contests whatsoever until this case is cleared up and we know
all the facts. Go to your room, boy.”
Feeling somewhat relieved, but still angry and resentful that any one
should play such an ugly trick on him, Jeff returned to Carter Hall.
As he crossed the campus he looked out toward the ball field where the
team was at afternoon practice, and he bit his lips in disappointment.
Because of the dishonesty of some one else he thought he was forbidden
the privilege of practicing with the team, forbidden the privilege of
playing in the remaining games and especially the Lawrencetown game
nest week. That would mean that he would not win his letter. That would
mean―― Jeff stopped short in his tracks. Suddenly a thought occurred to
him. Had Gould found the examination paper and used it to keep him out
of the Lawrencetown game! If he played in the Lawrencetown game Gould
would not win his letter. But if he remained ineligible, Gould was the
logical man to take his place and in playing the game he would win the
honor he most coveted. Had Gould planted the lost examination paper
in his Latin book just to keep him out of the Lawrencetown game? Jeff
began to believe that it was very likely.
Jeff’s non-appearance at practice that afternoon caused a number of
questions to be raised by the players and students who always watched
the team warm up, and Wade Grenville was not slow in supplying the
information as to just what had happened and why Jeff was being denied
the privilege of practicing with the team and playing in the remaining
games of the season.
The attitude of practically all of the fellows was the same. They
asserted that a mighty low-down trick had been played on the third
baseman, and even Gould, who was filling Jeff’s place, seemed to
profess to be disturbed by the unfairness of it all, and was loud
in his insistence that if Thatcher was not responsible for his own
undoing, the fellow who stooped to such meanness should be smoked out
and made to confess.
But Wade refused to be deceived by what he believed was a bit of stage
play on the part of Gould, and he refused to accept the attitude of
Birdie Pell as anything but sham. Yet, Birdie appeared to be very
resentful of the way Thatcher had been “framed” as dishonest, and he
insisted that he would do his utmost to help find the fellow who was
responsible.
When Wade heard him make this statement he looked at the little Soph
more searchingly for a moment. Then he said:
“Well, Pell, I guess you won’t have to look far among _your_ friends to
find out who did it.”
Little Pell colored up at this and seemed about to make a retort.
Instead, however, he bit his lips and turned away in silence.
In the locker room that afternoon Wade passed secret word among certain
of Jeff’s friends, suggesting that they linger about the gym. a little
later than usual.
Buck Hart, Honey Wiggins, Rabbit Warren, Cas Gorham, Brownie Davis
and Mickey Daily composed the little group who remained behind in the
locker room after the rest of the baseball squad had left. Wade became
the spokesman at this impromptu meeting.
“Fellows,” he said, “I believe Jeff has had a mighty shabby deal put
over on him by some one, and I think it is up to us to find out who did
it. I don’t mind saying I have my suspicions and I for one am going to
try and get at the facts in the case. I’ve been thinking that perhaps
a little committee composed of the few of us here might be able to
do more in the way of shedding light on the whole business than Dr.
Livingston and the rest of the members of the faculty can. Thatcher
doesn’t like my idea of getting you all together. He calls it gang
spirit, or mob rule, or Ku Klux stuff, but just the same I think we can
help a lot toward getting this mystery cleared up if we work together.”
“Sounds good,” said Lafe Gammage.
“Right-o. What’s the idea, Wade?” said Mickey Daily.
“We’re with you, Wade. Count us all in and give us the dope,” said
Rabbit Warren.
“Well, here’s the way I figure it, fellows. I think that Gould is at
the bottom of the whole thing. I’m going to interview him in his room
to-night, and if I can’t make any progress with him, I want you fellows
to be ready to come in and help me out. Not physically――that is, not
unless we have to. But I don’t believe that we’ll need to use force.
Just the presence of you fellows all in a group will go a long way
toward making Gould understand that he will have to come across with
facts and not try to lie out of anything.”
“All right, we’re with you. Aren’t we, fellows?” asked Buck Hart.
“I’ll say we are. Right-o,” came the response.
“Good. I’ll go to Gould’s room at eight o’clock. You fellows gather
around outside about that time and be handy. No use of us all piling in
on top of him right off. We’ll give him a chance first. All right?”
“Right as can be,” came the response. And the meeting broke up, the
fellows leaving the gym. in a group.
Wade refused to discuss his plans with Jeff at all that evening,
although Jeff tried his best to learn them.
“Never mind what we plan to do, Jeff, but we are going to get to the
bottom of this thing if we can,” said Wade.
“All right, hang it. If you won’t let me in on it I can’t make you.
But let me tell you, Wade, I don’t want any gang stuff or strong arm
methods or anything like that. Don’t stoop as low as that for me, Wade.
The whole thing isn’t worth it,” said Jeff.
“Oh, we won’t. I’ll promise you we won’t use force under any
circumstances, but we are going to see the thing through, let me tell
you.” And Wade picked up his hat and went out.
Jeff was half inclined to follow him. Indeed, he took up his hat to
do so when he realized that it was eight o’clock and that he was not
permitted the privilege of leaving his room at that hour.
Wade crossed over the campus and went straight to Newkirk, in which
most of the Sophomores were quartered. On the front step of the house
he found Rabbit Warren and Honey Wiggins waiting and several other
fellows were coming down the drive. He could make out their forms in
the gathering half light of evening.
“Wait here, fellows. I’ll whistle if I want you,” said Wade, and he
entered and went upstairs to the second floor.
As he walked in the direction in which Gould’s room lay, he suddenly
became conscious of voices raised to more than conversational pitch
which sounded rather strange in the silent hall.
As Wade approached Gould’s room he presently recognized the voice
speaking as that of Birdie Pell, and he could not resist the impulse to
stop and listen. They were in Gould’s room and the transom above the
door was open.
“――and I’ve stuck by you through a lot of messes,” Pell was saying,
“but, by jingoes, if you are implicated in this I’m through with you,
cousin or no cousin. I don’t care a whoop whether your father does get
miffed and refuse to pay my expenses here. By jingoes, I’ll work my
way through and be quit of a dirty mucker like you.”
“But, Birdie, I didn’t do it, I tell you. You can’t believe I would be
as low down as that, can you?”
“No, I can’t, but, by jingoes, you have made yourself such a crab
around the school that Wade Grenville and all of Thatcher’s friends
suspect you and are perfectly willing to believe that you would do it.
And if you didn’t do it you and I have got to find out who did, just to
clear you. Get me. Hang it, you make me so mad sometimes I’d give you
a good beating if I was big enough. If you hadn’t been such a darned
grouch and crab, and so conceited and pig headed you wouldn’t be under
suspicion now. You don’t suppose I like to have you act――”
In justice to his own conscience Wade could not listen any longer and
he knocked at the door.
There was silence for a moment. Then Gould, in a husky voice, said:
“Come in.”
The boy was pale of face and visibly overwrought when Wade stepped in
and closed the door after him.
“I know what you’ve come for,” he said, in a voice that trembled. “But
I swear to you, Wade, I do not know a single thing about it. I may be a
‘mucker,’ as Birdie has called me to-night, but honestly, Wade, I’m not
as low down as all that.” Gould was so sincere and so overwrought that
Wade could see tears in his eyes and his voice choked.
Jeff’s chum felt dreadfully sorry for him and almost half inclined to
believe that he was telling the truth.
“Look here, Gould, I’m not the only fellow who believes that you had a
hand in this. They are all downstairs. Can you go down and tell them
what you have told me. If you can I believe you are honest. If you
can’t, why, it will――”
Gould swallowed hard, seemed to grow a shade paler, and made a valiant
effort to pull himself together.
“I’ll go down. I want to tell them all that they are mistaken. I must
be a mucker to have them _all_ believe me capable of such a low-down
trick.” Gould got his cap, and followed Wade out into the hall and down
the stairs, and Birdie, evidently feeling very unhappy for his chum,
trailed after them.
Rabbit Warren and Honey Wiggins were still sitting on the steps while
Mickey Daily and the others stood under an elm tree near by. As the
three boys came out of the door they all gathered in a little group at
the foot of the steps expectantly. Wade stepped aside to give Gould the
opportunity to face them, and the former third baseman stepped forward
and stood in front of them for a moment.
“Fellows,” he said, in a husky voice, “Wade and Birdie Pell have told
me that you believe that I planted that Latin examination paper in Jeff
Thatcher’s book and left the book where it would be found and turned in
so that he would be blamed for dishonesty and barred from the team. I
want to tell you all that I do not know any more about the whole thing
than you do, and that’s the honest truth. I want you to believe it is
the truth, too. It makes me mighty unhappy to know that you can all
think me capable of such an act, but it makes me realize, too, that
I have probably been a cheap, rotten sort of a skate for some time.
I want you all to overlook that and give me another chance to be a
regular fellow. I tell you I never stooped to anything as low as the
deed you are accusing me of, and if you do not believe me I will do
anything that you fellows say to――”
Gould did not finish his sentence. Out of the dark came the sound of
feet running up the graveled drive, and presently a figure burst upon
the scene. It was Jeff Thatcher, hatless and out of breath.
“Good, I hoped I’d find you all here. Fellows, it’s a mistake, thank
goodness. Ollie Simms, the janitor, is responsible for the whole
business. Here’s how it all happened. He has just been over to Dr.
Livingston’s office and explained, and Dr. Livingston called me in to
let me know all about it. Seems Ollie found the examination paper on
the path across the campus while he was on the way over to the gym.,
and on the basement steps he found my Cæsar, where I must have lost it
out of my coat pocket. He shoved the paper into the book and intended
to bring them over to the office. But he got busy with something else
and he laid the book on the gym. steps and forgot about it. Little
Jimmy Wild, a sub-freshman, found it and turned it in to the office.
So there is the solution of the whole business and I am exonerated.
And now, what I want to do is to apologize to Gould here for the ugly
thoughts I have had about him and the ugly deeds I have believed him
capable of.”
Jeff stepped up the steps and extended his hand to Gould and his former
enemy gripped it with tears in his eyes.
“Thanks, Jeff,” he stammered, “I must have been carrying myself like a
mucker these last few months to make you believe I could be capable of
such a deed. _I_ want to apologize for that and I want to apologize for
many other things too. That basketball foul last winter, for instance.
I lied then, Jeff. That was a mucker’s trick that I have regretted ever
since. I’m going to be a regular fellow after this or I’m going to quit
Pennington.”
Buck Hart and Wade Grenville stepped up followed by the others.
“We, too, want to apologize, Gould. We are blamed sorry, but, honestly,
you have laid yourself open to it with your lax ways, your smoking,
your egotism and some of the shady stunts you have pulled in the past.
But we are all willing to let that stuff be far in the past. We are for
you, Gould, and little Birdie Pell here, too.”
“Fellows,” said Gould, “Birdie Pell is about the best chum a fellow
could have. He’s stuck to me through a lot of what must have been to
him discouraging situations and he has always tried to make me see how
rotten I have been, but I guess I have been such an infernal egotist
that I have not been willing to pay much attention to him. He’s my
cousin, fellows, and a dandy kid. But even his relationship did not
stand in the way of his throwing me down to-night when he thought I had
stooped to such a low trick as I was accused of.”
“Fellows,” said Wade Grenville, “we’ve been misjudging these two chaps
a heap, and I guess I’m a lot responsible for some of the unpleasant
feelings we have all held against them. I propose a yell for both of
them.”
The “rahs” were given with enthusiasm and echoed across the campus with
such feeling that presently heads were appearing at various windows.
“And now,” yelled Buck Hart, “let’s give the same to Jeff Thatcher
because I think of us all he has been the most tolerant.”
And Jeff Thatcher heard his name go echoing through the night on the
end of nine rousing “rahs.”