HILTZ ENTERS A PROTEST
When they had crossed the bridge the four talked a while of the comet
and then Dan and Alf turned to the right toward the little buff house
wherein Payson, the football coach, had his lodgings, and Tom and
Gerald kept on in the direction of the school. Ahead of them was a
straggling line of fellows whose eager voices reached them crisply on
the morning air.
“Aren’t you tired?” asked Tom with a solicitous glance at the younger
boy. Gerald shook his head.
“Not a bit, Tom. You see, I’ve been at it ever since school opened.
It’s wonderful the way practice brings you along. Why, when I started
out I used to lose my breath in the first mile! Now I think I could run
six miles and not get much winded. And you ought to see how my chest is
expanding!”
“If Alf were here,” laughed Tom, “he’d tell you that was due to
boxing!”
“I dare say some of it is,” responded Gerald smilingly. “I hope Andy
will let me in the run with Broadwood. I suppose he will give us a
lot of stiff work before that, though. Are you going to play this
afternoon, Tom?”
“Yes. Alf’s gone to see Payson about the length of halves. Payson wants
two twenties and Alf thinks that’s too much.”
“I wish Bendix would let me play,” sighed Gerald. “Don’t you think it’s
mean of him, Tom? He says I’m not strong enough, but I’ll wager I’m as
strong as lots of the fellows on the Second.”
“No, you’re not, kid. You wait until next year. Muscles knows what he’s
talking about. Football’s a tough game to play and a fellow needs to
be pretty sturdy if he isn’t going to get banged up. I like the game
mighty well, but if I had a kid of my own I don’t believe I’d let him
look at a football before he was eighteen.”
“Gee, I’d hate to be your kid!” Gerald laughed. “Think of the fun he’d
miss! I’m going to play next fall, all right. Dad doesn’t like it, but
he’s pretty fussy about me.”
“Why shouldn’t he be?” asked Tom. “You’re the only one he’s got, aren’t
you? If you get killed who’s going to be the next Steamship King?”
“I’d rather be a lawyer,” said Gerald thoughtfully.
“Well, you’ll have enough money to be what you like, I guess. It won’t
matter whether you get a case or not.”
“Dad doesn’t want me to be that, though,” answered Gerald as they
climbed the fence and set off up the well-worn path across the meadow
slope. “He says I ought to study law but he wants me to go into his
office when I finish college.”
“You ought to be glad you’ve got a fine big business all ready and
waiting,” said Tom. “By the way, where is that father of yours now,
Gerald? I haven’t seen him lately, have I?”
“He’s out West; Chicago, to-day, I think. He’s coming back the middle
of next week. You and Alf and Dan are to take dinner with us some night
after he comes home.”
“Glad to.” Tom unconsciously looked back across the village to where
the stone gables and turrets of Sound View, the summer home of the
millionaire Steamship King, arose above the trees. “How long are you
going to keep the house open this fall, Gerald?” he asked.
“Until after Thanksgiving, I suppose. Dad will be away a good deal,
though. You know he’s combining a lot of steamship lines on the Lakes.
It’s keeping him pretty busy.”
“I should think it might,” said Tom dryly. “I guess it would be a good
morning’s work for me.”
They climbed The Prospect, as the terrace in front of Oxford Hall is
called, and parted company, Tom disappearing around the corner of the
old granite building in the direction of his room in Dudley Hall and
Gerald following the drive past Merle Hall to the gymnasium. The locker
room was pretty well filled with boys when he entered and he fancied
that the conversation, which had sounded animated enough through the
folding doors, died suddenly at his appearance. He nodded to several
of the fellows, among them Arthur Thompson, and crossed to his locker.
From the showers came the rush of water and the yelps and groans of
youths undergoing what in Yardley parlance was known as the Third
Degree. The chatter began again as Gerald slipped out of his running
costume and, wrapping his big Turkish towel about him, sought the
baths. They were all occupied, however, and he turned back to wait his
turn. Arthur Thompson was dressing a few feet away and Gerald seated
himself beside him on the bench.
“I’d punch Hiltz’s head,” Thompson growled under his breath.
“What for?” asked Gerald.
“What for! Haven’t you heard what he’s saying?”
Gerald shook his head.
“No. What’s he saying, Arthur?”
“Why, that you cut the course coming back. He’s told Andy Ryan and
about everyone else. He wants you disqualified. That would give him a
place on the team, you see. I thought you’d heard it.”
“Do the fellows believe it?” asked Gerald. His voice shook a little and
he felt the blood dyeing his cheeks.
“I don’t know,” answered Arthur in a low voice. “I don’t. Jake Hiltz
always was a liar. I wouldn’t believe him if he told me his own name!”
“Is he here?”
“Somewhere; in the shower, I guess. What are you going to do, Gerald?”
“I’m going to make him say it to me,” answered Gerald hotly.
“Well, don’t have any fuss with him,” Arthur advised. “He’s bigger than
you and a couple of years older.”
“I don’t care how big he is. If he says I cheated, he lies!”
Gerald had unconsciously raised his voice and a big, ungainly looking
youth, who at that moment emerged from one of the showers, heard and
turned toward them.
“Who lies, Pennimore?” he demanded threateningly.
“You do if you say I cheated this morning, Hiltz!”
“You look out, Money-bags, or you’ll get something you won’t like,”
threatened Hiltz.
“Then you take that back,” said Gerald shrilly.
“Take back nothing! I said you cut the course, and you did, and you
know you did. You gained at least twenty yards on me. If it wasn’t for
that I’d have beaten you easily.”
“That’s a lie!”
Hiltz stepped forward and aimed a blow at Gerald, but Arthur Thompson
caught the older boy’s fist on his arm.
“Cut it out, Hiltz,” he growled. “He’s only half your size.”
“He called me a liar!”
“Well, what of it? I wouldn’t believe you on oath, Hiltz. I don’t
believe he cut the course.”
“Nobody cares what you believe,” answered Hiltz savagely. “I’ve put it
up to Ryan and Mr. Bendix and they’ll settle it without your help, my
fresh friend.”
“Where did I cut the course?” Gerald demanded.
“You know well enough,” responded Hiltz. “At the first turn going into
Greenburg. You cut across the field when you ought to have kept to the
road.”
“I didn’t! Groom can prove it. He was right ahead all the time. Did I,
Groom?”
“I don’t know,” answered that youth from the other end of the room.
“I wasn’t looking.” Evidently he didn’t want to be drawn into the
discussion.
“Well, I didn’t,” reiterated Gerald. “I was right beside you all the
last two miles, Hiltz, and you know it very well.”
“I’ve said what I know. We’ll see whether you can cheat me out of my
place on the team. If you weren’t so small I’d give you a mighty good
licking for talking like that to me.”
“Never mind my size,” cried Gerald, rushing past Arthur. “I’m not
afraid of you! I said you lied, and I say it again!”
“Cut that out, Pennimore!” interrupted a big chap who had entered. He
was Durfee, a First Class fellow, and captain of the Baseball Team.
“You’re not big enough to fight Hiltz, so don’t call him names. What’s
the row, anyway?”
“He says I cheated!” cried Gerald, almost on the verge of tears. “He’s
told Ryan that I cut the course! He’s told everyone.”
“Well, did you?”
“No!”
“All right; let it go at that. He says you did, you say you didn’t.
Your word’s as good as his, I suppose. Let Ryan settle it. Move along,
Jake, you’re blocking the traffic.”
“I’m perfectly willing to let Ryan settle it,” said Hiltz, as he drew
away. “But I’m not going to have that little bug call me names.”
“Oh, tut, tut!” said Durfee, shoving him playfully away. “It’s a pity
about you, Jake. Run along now. As for you, Pennimore, just remember
that it isn’t good form to call names, especially to upper classmen.
Besides which,” he added with a smile, “it isn’t wise.”
“I’m not afraid of him,” said Gerald. Durfee grinned and winked at
Arthur Thompson.
“I wouldn’t be either,” he muttered as he turned away.
“You’d better see Ryan as soon as you can and tell him your side of
it,” Arthur advised. “I’m pretty sure Hiltz made it up because you
beat him out at the finish.”
“Groom knows I didn’t cheat,” said Gerald aggrievedly. “He just doesn’t
want to say so.”
“Groom is all for the peaceful life,” answered Arthur. “Maybe, though,
Bendix will get him to fess up.”
“If he doesn’t, how can I prove that Hiltz isn’t right?”
“You can’t, I suppose. And Hiltz can’t prove that you’re not right. So
there you are. Run along and get your shower. I’ll wait for you and
we’ll find Andy.”
The little trainer wasn’t far to seek when Gerald had dressed himself.
He was in the office upstairs. Arthur stayed outside while Gerald
stated his case.
“And you kept to the road, you say?” asked the trainer.
“Yes, I did, Andy; and Groom knows it, only he won’t say so.”
“Well, I’ll see him. Don’t you bother; it’ll be all right; be aisy in
your mind, me bye.”
“Shall I see Mr. Bendix?” Gerald asked.
“No, no, I’ll tell him all about it. Maybe he won’t have anything to
do with it anyway. Sure, I don’t see why I can’t settle the trouble
meself!”
Gerald joined Arthur and they made their way across the Yard together.
As they approached the back of Whitson Hall a boy at an open window in
the second story hailed them.
“Hello, Gerald! Come on up. Say, Arthur, I want you to help me with
this history stuff. Will you?”
“That’s what comes of having a kid for a roommate,” sighed Arthur. “He
doesn’t try to learn anything. All he thinks of is his beastly stamp
book. He’s driving me crazy, talking about ‘issues’ and ‘perforations,’
and all the rest of the truck.”
“Are you coming right up?” called the boy.
“Yes, I am, and when I do I’ll wring your young neck,” answered Arthur
savagely. “Why don’t you study once in a while?”
“How’s the stamp collection getting on, Harry?” asked Gerald.
“Fine!” replied Harry Merrow. “I got some dandies the other day. Traded
for them with ‘Tiger’ Smith. Come up and see them.”
“Some other time, Harry. You’re going to study now, you know.” Harry
Merrow made a face.
“What’s the good of studying?” he demanded pertly. “Arthur always help
me out.”
“Well, he’s going to stop it right now!” declared Arthur. “And, what’s
more, I’m going to pitch that stamp book out of the window if you don’t
forget it for a while. See you later, Gerald. Don’t you worry about
that; it’ll be all right. Everyone knows Jake Hiltz.”
Arthur ran up the steps and disappeared into Whitson Hall and Gerald
went on to the next dormitory, Clarke, and climbed two well-worn
flights of stairs. The last door in the corridor bore the number 28 and
two visiting cards tacked beneath it. On one was “Daniel Morse Vinton,”
and on the other “Gerald Pennimore,” but it was much too dark to read
them. Gerald opened the door and passed through. At the end of the
room, on the window seat, Dan and Alf were lolling.
“Hello,” said Alf. “Behold the fleet-footed Mercury!”
“Fleet-footed perhaps,” said Dan, “but not glad-visaged. What’s the
matter, Gerald? Anyone dead?”
“Matter enough,” answered Gerald, as he tossed his cap onto the table
and threw himself into the Morris chair. “Jake Hiltz has told everyone
that I cut the course this morning. He’s told Ryan and wants him to
disqualify me.”
“Phew!” whistled Dan.
“Oh, Hiltz!” said Alf contemptuously. “Don’t let that worry you, kid.
Hiltz couldn’t tell the truth if he was paid double.”
“And Groom was just ahead of us all the time, and he knows I didn’t cut
and he won’t say so,” wailed Gerald.
“Groom never says anything if he can help it,” responded Alf. “Andy
will fix it all right; he’s nobody’s fool. And he knows Jake, too. Has
he got any――er――foundation for his malicious libel, Gerald? Did you
wander away from the beaten path, my boy?”
“Not once,” replied Gerald indignantly.
“Well, I didn’t suppose you had, unless by accident,” said Alf
soothingly. “I suppose Jake got mad because you beat him at the finish
and made up the yarn out of whole cloth. I wouldn’t pay any attention
to it, Gerald.”
“But it’s all over school!”
“Never mind. Your word is as good as Jake’s; better, for that matter;
fellows will know what to believe. Did you――er――encounter the
gentleman?”
“Yes, he was in the gym. I told him he was a liar.”
“The dickens you did! And what did he say?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He tried to hit me, but Arthur Thompson got in the
way, and after that Durfee came along.”
“Durfee always was a kill-sport,” grieved Alf.
“Shut up, Alf,” said Dan. “Gerald hadn’t any business getting fresh.”
“Well, why did he lie about me, then?” Gerald demanded.
“When you’ve been in school longer, Gerald, you’ll learn that you’ve
got to put up with a lot of lies. Lies don’t hurt any――as long as they
_are_ lies.”
“Well, I wasn’t afraid of him, and if――――”
“You’d have gone and had a mix-up in the gym and got into a lot of
trouble,” interrupted Dan severely. “It’s a good thing Thompson or
Durfee, or whoever it was, interfered.”
“Think of Arthur Thompson jumping in and saving our young hero!”
chuckled Alf. “Why, last year Gerald was training to fight him to a
finish. Gerald, I’ll bet you could get the best of Jake Hiltz; he
doesn’t know a thing about boxing.”
“Well, Gerald isn’t going to fight Hiltz,” said Dan warmly. “And I wish
you’d quit putting fool ideas into his head, Alf.”
“Yes, mamma! Thank you, mamma. I consider myself reproved and slapped
twice on the wrist. Come on to dinner and stop worrying, Gerald. It’ll
all come out in the wash. And Dan’s right, too. After you’ve been here
a little longer you’ll find that a fellow’s got to put up with a lot
of fool yarns. Just as long as you play fair you don’t have to worry
about what fellows say. Come on now; this is roast-beef day, and I’m as
hungry as a bear!”