The New Boy at Hilltop
IHilltop School closed its fall term with just ninety-five students; itopened again two weeks later, on the third of January, with ninety-six; andthereby hangs this tale.Kenneth Garwood had been booked for Hilltop in the autumn, butcircumstances had interfered with the family's plans. Instead he journeyedto Moritzville on the afternoon of the day preceding the commencement ofthe new term, a very cold and blustery January afternoon, during much ofwhich he sat curled tightly into a corner of his seat in the poorly heatedday coach, which was the best the train afforded, and wondered why theConnecticut Valley was so much colder than Cleveland, Ohio. He had taken anearly train from New York, and all the way to Moritzville had sought withnatural eagerness for sight of his future schoolmates. But he had beenunsuccessful. When Hilltop returns to school it takes the mid-afternoonexpress which reaches Moritzville just in time for dinner, whereas Kennethreached the school before it was dark, and at a quarter of five was inundisputed possession, for the time being, of Number 12, Lower House."We are putting you," the principal had said, "with Joseph Brewster, a boyof about your own age and a member of your class. He is one of our nicestboys, one of whom we are very proud. You will, I am certain, become goodfriends. Mr. Whipple here will show you to your room. Supper is at six.Afterwards, say at eight o'clock, I should like you to see me again here atthe office. If there is anything you want you will find the matron's roomat the end of the lower hall. Er--will you take him in charge, Mr.Whipple?"On the way across the campus, between banks of purple-shadowed snow andunder leafless elms which creaked and groaned dismally in the wind, Kennethreached the firm conclusion that there were two persons at Hilltop whom hewas going to dislike cordially. One was the model Joseph Brewster, and theother was Mr. Whipple. The instructor was young, scarcely more thantwenty-three, tall, sallow, near-sighted and taciturn. He wore anunchanging smile on his thin face and spoke in a soft, silky voice thatmade Kenneth want to trip him into one of the snow banks.Lower House, so called to distinguish it from the other dormitory, UpperHouse, which stood a hundred yards higher on the hill, looked veryuninviting. Its windows frowned dark and inhospitable and no light shonefrom the hall as they entered. Mr. Whipple paused and searchedunsuccessfully for a match."I fear I have left my match box in my study," he said at length. "Just amoment, please, Garwood, and I will--""Here's a match, sir," interrupted Kenneth."Ah!" Mr. Whipple accepted the match and rubbed it carefully under thebanister rail. "Thank you," he added as a tiny pale flame appeared at thetip of the side bracket. "I trust that the possession of matches, my boy,does not indicate a taste for tobacco on your part?" he continued, smilingdeprecatingly.Kenneth took up his suit case again."I trust not, sir," he said. Mr. Whipple blinked behind his glasses."Smoking is, of course, prohibited at Hilltop.""I think it is at most schools," Kenneth replied gravely."Oh, undoubtedly! I am to understand, then, that you are not even in theleast addicted to the habit?""Well, sir, it isn't likely you'll ever catch me at it," said Kennethimperturbably. The instructor flushed angrily."I hope not," he said in a silky voice, "I sincerely hope not, Garwood--foryour sake!"He started up the stairs and Kenneth followed, smiling wickedly. He hadn'tmade a very good beginning, he told himself, but Mr. Whipple irritated himintensely. After the instructor had closed the door softly and taken hisdeparture, Kenneth sat down in an easy-chair and indulged in regrets."I wish I hadn't been so fresh," he muttered ruefully. "It doesn't do afellow any good to get the teachers down on him. Not that I'm scared ofthat old boy, though! Dr. Randall isn't so bad, but if the rest of theteachers are like Whipple I don't want to stay. Well, dad said I needn'tstay after this term if I don't like it. Guess I can stand three months,even of Whipple! I hope Brewster isn't quite as bad. Maybe, though, they'llgive me another room if I kick. Don't see why I can't have a room bymyself, anyhow. I guess I'll get dad to write and ask for it. Only maybe achap in moderate circumstances like me isn't supposed to have a room all tohimself."He chuckled softly and looked about him.Number 12 consisted of a small study and a good-sized sleeping room openingoff. The study was well furnished, even if the carpet was worn bare inspots and the green-topped table was a mass of ink blots. There were twocomfortable armchairs and two straight-backed chairs, the aforementionedtable, two bookcases, one on each side of the window, a wicker wastebasketand two or three pictures. Also there was an inviting window seat heapedwith faded cushions. On the whole, Kenneth decided, the study, seen in thesoft radiance of the droplight, had a nice "homey" look. He crossed overand examined the bedroom, drawing aside the faded brown chenille curtain tolet in the light. There wasn't much to see--two iron beds, two chiffoniers,two chairs, a trunk bearing the initials "J. A. B." and a washstand. Thefloor was bare save for three rugs, one beside each bed and one in front ofthe washstand. The two windows had white muslin curtains and a couple ofuninteresting pictures hung on the walls. He dropped the curtain at thedoor, placed his suit case on a chair and opened it. For the next fewminutes he was busy distributing its contents. To do this it was necessaryto light the gas in the bedroom and as it flared up, its light wasreflected from the gleaming backs of a set of silver brushes which he hadplaced a moment before on the top of the chiffonier. He paused for a momentand eyed them doubtfully."Gee!" he muttered. "I can't have those out. I'll have to buy somebrushes."He gathered them up and tumbled them back into his suit case. Finally, witheverything put away, he took off coat and vest, collar and, cuffs, andproceeded to wash up. And while he is doing it let us have a good look athim.He was fourteen years of age, but he looked older. Not that he was largefor his age; it was rather the expression of his face that added thatmythical year or so. He looked at once self-reliant and reserved. At firstglance one might have thought him conceited, in which case one would havedone him an injustice. Kenneth had traveled a good deal and had seen moreof the world than has the average boy of his age, and this had naturallyleft its impress on his countenance. I can't honestly say that he washandsome, and I don't think you will be disappointed to hear it. But he wasgood-looking, with nice, quiet gray eyes, an aquiline nose, a fairly broadmouth whose smiles meant more for being infrequent, and a firm, ratherpointed chin of the sort which is popularly supposed to, and in Kenneth'scase really did, denote firmness of character. His hair was brown and quiteguiltless of curl. His body was well set up and he carried himself with alittle backward thrust of the head and shoulders which might have seemedarrogant, but wasn't, any more than was his steady, level manner of lookingat one.Presently, having donned his clothes once more, he picked up a book fromthe study table, pulled one of the chairs toward the light and set himselfcomfortably therein, stretching his legs out and letting his elbows sinkinto the padded leather arms. And so he sat when, after twenty minutes orso, there were sounds outside the building plainly denoting the arrival ofstudents, sounds followed by steps on the stairs, shouts, laughter, happygreetings, the thumping of bags, the clinking of keys. And so he sat whenthe door of Number 12 was suddenly thrown wide open and a merry face,flushed with the cold, looked amazedly upon him from between the high,shaggy, upturned collar of a voluminous dark gray ulster and the soft visorof a rakishly tilted cap.
IIAnd while Kenneth looked back, he felt his prejudices melting away. Surelyone couldn't dislike for very long such a jolly, mischievous-looking youthas this! Of Kenneth's own age was the newcomer, a little heavier,yellow-haired and blue-eyed, at once impetuous and good-humored. But atthis moment the good-humor was not greatly in evidence. Merriment gaveplace to surprise, surprise to resentment on the boy's countenance."Hello!" he challenged.Kenneth laid the book face down on his knee and smiled politely."How do you do?" he responded.The newcomer dragged a big valise into the room and closed the door behindhim, never for an instant taking his gaze off Kenneth. Then, apparentlyconcluding that the figure in the armchair was real flesh and blood and nota creature of the imagination, he tossed his cap to the table, revealing arumpled mass of golden yellow hair, and looked belligerently at theintruder."Say, you've got the wrong room, I guess," he announced."Here's where they put me," answered Kenneth gravely."Well, you can't stay here," was the inhospitable response. "This is myroom."Kenneth merely looked respectfully interested. Joe Brewster slid out of hisulster, frowning angrily."You're a new boy, aren't you!" he demanded."About an hour and a half old," said Kenneth. Somehow the reply seemed toannoy Joe. He clenched his hands and stepped toward the other truculently."Well, you go and see the matron; she'll find a room for you; there arelots of rooms, I guess. Anyway, I'm not going to have you butting in here.""You must be Joseph Brewster," said Kenneth. The other boy growled assent."The fact is, Brewster, they put me in here with you because you are such afine character. Dr. Whatshisname said you were the pride of the school, orsomething like that. I guess they thought association with you wouldbenefit me."Joe gave a roar and a rush. Over went the armchair, over went Kenneth, overwent Joe, and for a minute nothing was heard in Number 12 but the sound ofpanting and gasping and muttered words, and the colliding of feet andbodies with floor and furniture. The attack had been somewhat unexpectedand as a result, for the first moments of the battle, Kenneth occupied theuncomfortable and inglorious position of the under dog. He strove only toescape punishment, avoiding offensive tactics altogether. It was hard work,however, for Brewster pummeled like a good one, his seraphic face aflamewith the light of battle and his yellow hair seeming to stand about hishead like a golden oriflamb. And while Kenneth hugged his adversary to him,ducking his head away from the incessant jabs of a very industrious fist,he realized that he had made a mistake in his estimation of his futureroommate. He was going to like him; he was quite sure he was; providing, ofcourse that said roommate left enough of him! And then, seeing, or ratherfeeling his chance, he toppled Joe Brewster over his shoulder and in atrice the tables were turned. Now it was Kenneth who was on top, and ittook him but a moment to seize Joe's wrists in a very firm grasp, a graspwhich, in spite of all efforts, Joe found it impossible to escape. Kenneth,perched upon his stomach--uneasily, you may be sure, since Joe heaved andtossed like a boat in a tempest--offered terms."Had enough?" he asked."No," growled Joe."Then you'll stay here until you have," answered Kenneth. "You and I aregoing to be roommates, so we might as well get used to each other now aslater, eh? How any fellow with a face like a little pink angel can use hisfists the way you can, gets me!"Kenneth was almost unseated at this juncture, but managed to hold hisplace. Panting from the effects of the struggle, he went on:"Seems to me Dr. Randall must be mistaken in you, Brewster. You don'tstrike me at all as a model of deportment. Seems to me he and you fixed upa pretty lively welcome for me, eh?"The anger faded out of Joe's face and a smile trembled at the corners ofhis mouth."Let me up," he said quietly."Behave?""Yep.""All right," said Kenneth. But before he could struggle to his feet therewas a peremptory knock on the door, followed instantly by the appearance ofa third person on the scene, a dark-haired, sallow, tall youth of fifteenwho viewed the scene with surprise."What's up?" he asked.Kenneth sprang to his feet and gave his hand to Joe. About them spreaddevastation."I was showing him a new tackle," explained Kenneth easily.Joe, somewhat red of face, shot him a look of gratitude."Oh," said the new arrival, "and who the dickens are you, kid?""My name's Garwood. I just came to-day. I'm to room with Brewster.""Is that right?" asked the other, turning to Joe. Joe nodded."So he says, Graft. I think it's mighty mean, though. They let me have aroom to myself all fall, and now, just when I'm getting used to it, what dothey do? Why, they dump this chap in here. It isn't as though there weren'tplenty of other rooms!""Why don't you kick to the doctor?" asked Grafton Hyde."Oh, it wouldn't do any good, I suppose," said Joe.Grafton Hyde sat down and viewed Kenneth with frank curiosity."Where are you from?" he demanded."Cleveland, Ohio.""Any relation to John Garwood, the railroad man?""Ye-es, some," said Kenneth. Grafton snorted."Huh! I dare say! Most everyone tries to claim relationship with amillionaire. Bet you, he doesn't know you're alive!""Well," answered Kenneth with some confusion, "maybe not, but--but I thinkhe's related to our family, just the same.""You do, eh?" responded Grafton sarcastically. "Well, I wouldn't try veryhard to claim relationship if I were you. I guess if the honest truth wereknown there aren't very many fellows who would want to be in John Garwood'sshoes, for all his money.""Why?" asked Kenneth."Because he's no good. Look at the way he treated his employees in thatlast strike! Some of 'em nearly starved to death!""That's a--that isn't so!" answered Kenneth hotly. "It was all newspaperlies.""Newspapers don't lie," said Grafton sententiously."They lied then, like anything," was the reply."Well, everyone knows what John Garwood is," said Grafton carelessly. "I'veheard my father tell about him time and again. He used to know him yearsago."Kenneth opened his lips, thought better of it and kept silence."Ever hear of my father?" asked Grafton with a little swagger."What's his name?" asked Kenneth."Peter Hyde," answered the other importantly."Oh, yes! He's a big politician in Chicago, isn't he?""No, he isn't!" replied Grafton angrily. "He's Peter Hyde, the lumbermagnate.""Oh!" said Kenneth. "What--what's a lumber magnet?""Magnate, not magnet!" growled Grafton. "It's time you came to school ifyou don't know English. Where have you been going?""I beg pardon?""What school have you been to? My, you're a dummy!""I haven't been to any school this year. Last year I went to the grammarschool at home.""Then this is your first boarding school, eh?""Yes; and I hope I'll like it. The catalogue said it was a very fineschool. I trust I shall profit from my connection with it."Grafton stared bewilderedly, but the new junior's face was as innocent as acherub's. Joe Brewster stared, too, for a moment; then a smile flickeredaround his mouth and he bent his head, finding interest in a bleedingknuckle."Well, I came over to talk about the team, Joe," Grafton said after amoment. "I didn't know you had company.""Didn't know it myself," muttered Joe.Kenneth picked up his book again and went back to his reading. But he wasnot so deeply immersed but that he caught now and then fragments of theconversation, from which he gathered that both Joe and Hyde were members ofthe Lower House Basket Ball Team, that Hyde held a very excellent opinionof his own abilities as a player, that Upper House was going to have a verystrong team and that if Lower didn't find a fellow who could throw goalsfrom fouls better than Simms could it was all up with them. SuddenlyKenneth laid down his book again."I say, you fellows, couldn't I try for that team?" he asked."Oh, yes, you can try," laughed Grafton. "Ever play any?""A little. We had a team at the grammar school. I played right guard.""You did, eh? That's where I play," said Grafton. "Maybe you'd like myplace?""Don't you want it?" asked Kenneth innocently."Don't I want it! Well, you'll have to work pretty hard to get it!""I will," said Kenneth very simply. Grafton stared doubtfully."Candidates are called for four o'clock tomorrow afternoon," said Joe."You'd better come along. You're pretty light, but Jim Marble will give youa try all right.""Thanks," answered Kenneth. "But would practice be likely to interfere withmy studies?""Say, kid, you're' a wonder!" sneered Grafton as he got up to go. "I neversaw anything so freshly green in my life! You're going to have a real nicetime here at Hilltop; I can see that. Well, see you later, Joe. Come upto-night; I want to show you some new snowshoes I brought back. Farewell,Garwood. By the way, what's your first name?""Kenneth.""Hey?""Kenneth; K, e, n, n, e--""Say, that's a peach!" laughed Grafton. "Well, bring little Kenneth withyou, Joe; I've got some picture books.""Thank you," said the new junior gratefully."Oh, don't mention it!" And Grafton went out chuckling.As the door closed behind him, Joe Brewster sank into a chair and thrustout his legs, hands in pockets, while a radiant grin slowly overspread hisangelic countenance."Well," he said finally, "you're the first fellow that ever bluffed Graft!And the way he took it!"Kenneth smiled modestly under the admiring regard of his roommate."Gee!" cried Joe, glancing at his watch. "It's after six. Come on tosupper. Maybe if we hurry they'll give you a place at our table."Kenneth picked up his cap and followed his new friend down the stairs. Onthe way he asked:"Is that chap Hyde a particular friend of yours?""N-no," answered Joe, "not exactly. We're on the team together, and heisn't such a bad sort. Only--he's the richest fellow in school and he can'tforget it!""I don't like him," said Kenneth decidedly.Hilltop School stands on the top of a hill overlooking the ConnecticutValley, a cluster of half a dozen ivy-draped buildings of which only one,the new gymnasium, looks less than a hundred years old. Seventy-six feet byforty it is, built of red sandstone with freestone trimming; a fine,aristocratic-looking structure which lends quite an air to the old campus.In the basement there is a roomy baseball cage, a bowling alley, lockers,and baths. In the main hall, one end of which terminates in a fair-sizedstage, are gymnastic apparatus of all kinds.It was here that Kenneth found himself at four o'clock the next day. Histrunk had arrived and he had dug out his old basket-ball costume, a redsleeveless shirt, white knee pants, and canvas shoes. He wore them now ashe sat, a lithe, graceful figure, on the edge of the stage. There werenearly thirty other fellows on the floor amusing themselves in various wayswhile they waited for the captain to arrive. Several of them Kennethalready knew well enough to speak to and many others he knew by name. ForJoe had made himself Kenneth's guide and mentor, had shown him all therewas to be seen, had introduced him to a number of the fellows and pointedout others and had initiated him into many of the school manners andmethods. This morning Kenneth had made his appearance in various classrooms and had met various teachers, among them Mr. Whipple, who, Kennethdiscovered, was instructor in English. The fellows seemed a friendly lotand he was already growing to like Hilltop.Naturally enough, Kenneth found himself the object of much interest. He wasa new boy, the only new one in school. At Hilltop the athletic rivalry wasprincipally internal, between dormitory and dormitory. To be sure thebaseball and football teams played other schools, but nevertheless thecontests which wrought the fellows up to the highest pitch of enthusiasmwere those in which the Blue of Upper House and the Crimson of Lower met inbattle. Each dormitory had its own football, baseball, hockey, tennis,track, basket ball, and debating, team, and rivalry was always intense.Hence the arrival of a new boy in Lower House meant a good deal to bothcamps. And most fellows liked what they saw of Kenneth, even whileregretting that he wasn't old enough and big enough for football material.Kenneth bore the scrutiny without embarrassment, but nevertheless he wasglad when Joe joined him where he sat on the edge of the stage."Jim hasn't come yet," said Joe, examining a big black-and-blue spot on hisleft knee. "I guess there won't be time for much practice today, becauseUpper has the floor at five. They're going to have a dandy team this year;a whole bunch of big fellows. But they had a big heavy team year beforelast and we beat them the first two games.""Don't you play any outside schools?""No, the faculty won't let us. Perfect rot, isn't it? They let us playoutsiders at football and baseball and all that, but they won't let us takeon even the grammar school for basket ball. Randy says the game is toorough and we might get injured. Bough! I'd like to know what he callsfootball!""I don't understand about the classes here," said Kenneth. "I heard thatbig chap over there say he couldn't play because he was 'advanced' orsomething. What's that!""Advanced senior," answered Joe. "You see, there's the preparatory class,the junior class, the middle class and the senior class. Then if a fellowwants to fit for college, he does another year in the senior class and inorder to distinguish him from the fourth-year fellows they call him anadvanced senior. See? There are five in school this year. Faculty won't letthem play basket ball or football because they're supposed to be too bigand might hurt some of us little chaps. Huh! Hello, there's Jim. I've gotto see him a minute."And Joe slipped off the stage and scurried across to where a boy of aboutsixteen, a tall, athletic-looking youth with reddish-brown hair wascrossing the floor with a ball under each arm. Joe stopped him and said afew words and presently they both walked over to where Kenneth sat. Joeintroduced the captain and the new candidate."Joe says you've played the game," said Jim inquiringly in a pleasant voiceas he shook hands. Kenneth was somewhat awed by him and replied quitemodestly:"Yes, but I don't suppose I can play with you fellows. Still, I'd like totry.""That's right. How are you on throwing baskets?""Well, I used to be pretty fair last year.""Good enough. If you can throw goals well, you'll stand a good show ofmaking the team as a substitute. You'd better get out there with the othersand warm up."
IIIKenneth's first week at Hilltop passed busily and happily. There had beenno more talk on Joe's part about getting rid of his roommate. The two hadbecome fast friends. Kenneth grew to like Joe better each day; and ithadn't taken him long to discover that it was because of Joe's ability tosquirm out of scrapes or to avoid detection altogether rather than toirreproachable conduct that Dr. Randall looked upon him as a model student.Basket-ball practice for both the Upper and Lower House teams took placeevery week-day afternoon. Kenneth had erred, if at all, on the side ofmodesty when speaking of his basket-ball ability. To be sure, he was lightin weight for a team where the members' ages averaged almost sixteen years,but he made up for that in speed, while his prowess at shooting basketsfrom the floor or from fouls was so remarkable that after a few practicegames had been played all Lower House was discussing him with eageramazement and Upper House was sitting up and taking notice. At the end ofthe first week Kenneth secured a place on the second team at right guard,and Grafton Hyde, whose place in a similar position on the first team washis more by reason of his size and weight than because of real ability,began to work his hardest.The closer Kenneth pressed him for his place the more Grafton's dislike ofthe younger boy became evident. As there was the length of the floorbetween their positions in the practice games the two had few opportunitiesto "mix it up," but once or twice they got into a scrimmage together and onthose occasions the fur flew. Grafton was a hard, rough player and hedidn't handle Kenneth with gloves. On the other hand, Kenneth asked nofavors nor gave any. Naturally Grafton's superior size and strength gavehim the advantage, and after the second of these "mix-ups," during whichthe other players and the few spectators looked on gleefully and thereferee blew his whistle until he was purple in the face, Kenneth limpeddown to the dressing room with a badly bruised knee, a factor which kepthim out of the game for the next two days and caused Grafton to throwsarcastic asides in the direction of the bench against which Kenneth'sheels beat a disconsolate tattoo.Four days before the first game with Upper House--the championship shieldwent to the team winning two games out of three--Lower House held anenthusiastic meeting at which songs and cheers were practiced and at whichthe forty odd fellows in attendance pledged themselves for various sums ofmoney to defray the cost of new suits and paraphernalia for both the basketball and hockey teams."How much do you give?" whispered Kenneth."Five dollars," answered Joe, his pencil poised above the little slip ofpaper. Kenneth stared."But--isn't that a good bit?" he asked incredulously."It seems so when you only get twenty dollars a month allowance," answeredJoe ruefully. "But every fellow gives what he thinks he ought to, you know;Graft usually gives ten dollars, but lots of the fellows can only givefifty cents.""I see," murmured Kenneth. "'What he thinks he ought to give, eh? That'seasy."The following afternoon Upper and Lower Houses turned out en masse to seethe first of the hockey series and stood ankle-deep in the new snow whileUpper proceeded to administer a generous trouncing to her rival."Eat 'em up, Upper! Eat 'em up, Upper!" gleefully shouted the supporters ofthe blue-stockinged players along the opposite barrier."Oh, forget it!" growled Joe, pulling the collar of his red sweater higherabout his neck and turning a disgusted back to the rink. "That's 14 to 3,isn't it? Well, it must be pretty near over, that's one comfort! Hello,here comes Whipple. Gee, but he makes me tired! Always trying to mix withthe fellows. I wonder if he was born with that ugly smile of his. He'scoming this way," Joe groaned. "He thinks I'm such a nice little boy andsays he hopes my heart is of gold to match my hair! Wouldn't that peevyou?""Ah, Brewster," greeted Mr. Whipple, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder,"how goes it today?" He accorded Kenneth a curt nod."Going bad," growled Joe."Well, well, we must take the bad with the good," said the instructorsweetly. "Even defeat has its lesson, you know. Now--"But Kenneth didn't hear the rest. Grafton Hyde was beside him with a slipof paper in his hand."Say, Garwood," said Grafton loudly enough to be heard by the audience nearby, "I wish you'd tell me about this. It's your subscription slip. Thesefigures look like a one and two naughts, but I guess you meant ten dollarsinstead of one, didn't you?""No," answered Kenneth calmly."Oh! But--only a dollar?" inquired Grafton incredulously.The fellows nearest at hand who had been either watching the game ordelighting in Joe's discomforture turned their attention to Grafton and thenew junior."Exactly," answered Kenneth. "The figures are perfectly plain, aren'tthey?"Grafton shrugged his shoulders and smiled."Oh, all right," he said. "Only a dollar seemed rather little, and I wantedto be sure--""Didn't anyone else give a dollar?" demanded Kenneth."We don't make public the amounts received," answered Grafton with muchdignity. Kenneth smiled sarcastically."What are you doing now?" he asked."I merely asked--""And I answered. That's enough, isn't it?""Yes, but let me tell you that we don't take to stingy fellows in LowerHouse. You'd better get moved to Upper, Garwood; that's where you belong.You're a fresh kid, and I guess we don't have to have your subscriptionanyway." He tore the slip up contemptuously and tossed the pieces to thesnow. Kenneth colored."Just as you like," he answered. "I subscribed what I thought proper andyou've refused to accept it. You haven't worried me."But a glance over the faces of the little throng showed that publicsentiment was against him. Well, that couldn't be helped now. He turned hisback and gave his attention to the game. But the incident was not yetclosed. Mr. Whipple's smooth voice sounded in its most conciliatory tones:"We all know your generosity, Hyde. Let us hope that by next year Garwoodwill have learned from you the spirit of giving."Kenneth swung around and faced the instructor."May I ask, sir, how much you gave?""Me? Why--ah--I think the teachers are not required--I should say expectedto--ah--contribute," answered Mr. Whipple agitatedly."I guess they aren't forbidden to," answered Kenneth. "And I don't believeyou've got any right to criticise the size of my subscription until you'vegiven something yourself."Mr. Whipple's smile grew tremulous and almost flickered out."I'm sure that the boys of the Lower House know that I am always ready andeager to aid in any way," he replied with angry dignity, "If they willallow me to contribute--" He paused and viewed the circle smilingly.The idea tickled all hands hugely."Yes, sir!""Thank you, sir!""About five dollars, Mr. Whipple!"Mr. Whipple's smile grew strained and uneasy. He had not expectedacceptance of his offer."Yes, yes, perhaps it is best to keep the donations confined to the studentbody," he said. "Perhaps at another time you'll allow--""Right now, sir!" cried Joe. "Give us a couple of dollars, sir!"The demand could not be disregarded. Shouts of approval arose on everyhand. On the ice, Wason of the Upper House team had hurt his knee and timehad been called; and the waiting players flocked to the barrier to see whatwas up. Mr. Whipple looked questioningly at Grafton and found that youthregarding him expectantly. With a sigh which was quickly stifled he drewforth his pocketbook and selected a two dollar note from the little roll itcontained. He handed it to Grafton who accepted it carelessly."Thanks," said Grafton. "I'll send you a receipt, sir.""Oh, that is not necessary," replied Mr. Whipple. Now that the thing waspast mending he made the best of it. His smile had returned in all itsserenity. "And now, Garwood," he said, "as I have complied with yourrequirements, allow me to say that your conduct has not been--ah--up toHilltop standards. Let me suggest that you cultivate generosity."Kenneth, who had kept his back turned since his last words, swung aroundwith an angry retort on his lips. But Joe's hand pulled him back."Shut up, chum!" whispered Joe. "Let him go."Kenneth, swallowed, his anger and Mr. Whipple, with a smiling nod, followedby a quick malevolent glance at Joe, turned away from the group of grinningfaces.Chuckles and quiet snickers followed him.There was joy in the ranks of the enemy.Only Kenneth showed no satisfaction over the instructor's discomfiture forhe realized that the latter would hold him partly accountable for it.Presently, the game having come to an end with the score 18 to 7 in Upper'sfavor, he and Joe went back together up the hill."I wish," said Joe, with a frown, "you hadn't made that fuss about thesubscription. Fellows will think you're stingy, I'm afraid.""Well, they'll have to think so then," responded Kenneth defiantly."Anyhow, Hyde had no business pitching into me about it like that inpublic.""No, that's so," Joe acknowledged. "He hadn't. I guess he's got it in foryou good and hard. But don't you be worried.""I'm not," answered Kenneth. And he didn't look to be."I'm going to see Jim Marble before Graft gets at him with a lot of yarnsabout you," Joe continued."Thanks," said Kenneth. "I wish you would. I don't want to lose all showfor the team.""You bet you don't! You're getting on finely, too, aren't you? I don't seehow you work those long throws of yours. Graft says it's just your foolluck," Joe chuckled. "I asked him why he didn't cultivate a little luckhimself! He's been playing like a baby so far; sloppy's no name for it!""Think Marble notices it?""Of course he notices it! Jim doesn't miss a thing. Why?""Nothing, only--well, I've made up my mind to beat Grafton out; and I'mgoing to do it!"Two days later there was deeper gloom than ever in Lower House. Upper hadwon the first basket ball game! And the score, 14 to 6, didn't offer groundfor comfort. There was no good reason to suppose that the next game, cominga week later, would result very differently. Individually three at least ofthe five players had done brilliant work, Marble at center. Joe at leftforward and Collier at left guard having won applause time and again. ButUpper had far excelled in team work, especially on offense, and Lower'smuch-heralded speed hadn't shown up. On the defense, all things considered,Lower had done fairly well, although most of the honor belonged to Collierat left guard, Grafton Hyde having played a slow, blundering game in whichhe had apparently sought to substitute roughness for science. More thanhalf of the fouls called on the Red had been made by Grafton. And, eventhough Upper had no very certain basket thrower, still she couldn't havehelped making a fair share of those goals from fouls.Kenneth hadn't gone on until the last minute of play, and he had notdistinguished himself. In fact his one play had been a failure. He hadtaken Grafton's place at right guard. Carl Jones, Upper's big center, stolethe ball in the middle of the floor and succeeded in getting quite awayfrom the field. Kenneth saw the danger and gave chase, but his lack ofweight was against him. Jones brushed him aside, almost under the basket,and, while Kenneth went rolling over out of bounds, tossed the easiest sortof a goal.But Kenneth's lack of success on that occasion caused him to work harderthan ever in practice, and, on the following Thursday the long-expectedhappened. Grafton Hyde went to the second team and Kenneth took his placeat right guard on the first.
IVGrafton could scarcely believe it at first. When he discovered that JimMarble really meant that he was to go to the second team his anger almostgot the better of him, and the glance he turned from Jim to Kenneth heldnothing of affection. But he took his place at right guard on the secondand, although with ill grace, played the position while practice lasted.Kenneth took pains to keep away from him, since there was no telling whattricks he might be up to. The first team put it all over the second thatday and Jim Marble was smiling when time was called and the panting playerstumbled downstairs to the showers. On Friday practice was short. After itwas over Kenneth stopped at the library on his way back to Lower House.When he opened the door of Number 12 he found Joe with his books spreadout, studying."Hello, where have you been?" asked Joe. "Graft was in here a minute agolooking for you. Said if you came in before dinner to ask you to go up tohis room a minute. Of course," said Joe, grinning, "he may intend to throwyou out of the window or give you poison, but he talked sweetly enough.Still, maybe you'd better stay away; perhaps he's just looking for a chanceto quarrel."Kenneth thought a minute. Then he turned toward the door."Going?" asked Joe."Yes.""Well, if you're not back by six I'll head a rescue party."Grafton Hyde roomed by himself on the third floor. His two rooms, on thecorner of the building, were somewhat elaborately furnished, as befittedthe apartments of "the richest fellow in school." He had chosen the thirdfloor because he was under surveillance less strict than were the first andsecond floor boys. The teacher on the third floor was Mr. Whipple and, ashis rooms were at the other end of the hall and as he paid little attentionat best to his charges, Grafton did about as he pleased. To-night there wasno light shining through the transom when Kenneth reached Number 21 and hedecided that Grafton was out. But he would make sure and so knocked at thedoor. To his surprise he was told to come in. As he opened the door a chilldraft swept by him, a draft at once redolent of snow and of cigarettesmoke. The room was in complete darkness, but a form was outlined againstone of the windows, the lower sash of which was fully raised, and a tinyred spark glowed there. Kenneth paused on the threshold."Who is it?" asked Grafton's voice."Garwood," was the reply. "Joe said you wanted me to look you up."The spark suddenly dropped out of sight, evidently tossed through the openwindow."Oh," said Grafton with a trace of embarrassment. "Er--wait a moment andI'll light up.""Don't bother," said Kenneth. "I can't stay but a minute. I just thoughtI'd see what you wanted.""Well, you'll find a chair there by the table," said Grafton, sinking backon the window seat. "Much obliged to you for coming up."There was a silence during which Kenneth found the chair and Grafton pulleddown the window. Then,"Look here, Garwood," said Grafton, "you've got my place on the team, Idon't say you didn't get it fair and square, because you did. But I wantit. You know me pretty well and I guess you know I generally get what Iwant. You're a pretty good sort, and you're a friend of Joe's, and I likeJoe, but I might make it mighty uncomfortable for you if I wanted to, whichI don't. I'll tell you what I'll do, Garwood. You get yourself back on thesecond team and I'll make it right with you. If you need a little money--""Is that all?" asked Kenneth, rising."Hold on! Don't get waxy! Wait till I explain. I'll give you twenty-fivedollars, Garwood. You can do a whole lot with twenty-five dollars. Andthat's a mighty generous offer. All you've got to do is to play off for acouple of days. Tomorrow you could be kind of sick and not able to play. Noone would think anything about it, and you can bet I wouldn't breathe aword of it. What do you say?""I say you're a confounded cad!" cried Kenneth hotly."Oh, you do, eh? I haven't offered enough, I suppose!" sneered Grafton. "Imight have known that a fellow who would only give a dollar to the teamswould be a hard bargainer! Well, I'm not stingy; I'll call it thirty. Now,what do you say?""When you get your place back it'll be by some other means than buying it,"said Kenneth contemptuously. He turned toward the door. "You haven't gotenough money to buy everything, you see; and--"There was a sharp knock on the door."If you say anything about this," whispered Grafton hoarsely, "I'll--I'll--Come in!""Who is here?" asked Mr. Whipple's voice as the door swung open."I, sir, and Garwood," answered Grafton."Ah! Garwood! And which one of you, may I ask, has been smokingcigarettes?"There was a moment's silence. Then,"Nobody in here, sir," answered Grafton."That will do, Hyde. Don't attempt to shield him," said Mr. Whipple coldly."Light the gas, please."Grafton slid off the window seat and groped toward where Kenneth wasstanding."Yes, sir," he said, "as soon as I can find a match." He brushed heavilyagainst Kenneth."I beg your pardon, Garwood. I'm all turned around. Where--? Oh, here theyare." A match flared and Grafton lighted the droplight. Mr. Whipple turnedto Kenneth, a triumphant smile on his thin features."Well, what have you to say?" he asked."About what, sir!" inquired Kenneth."About smoking. You deny it, then.""Yes.""Ah! And what about this!" Mr. Whipple opened his hand and displayed aportion of a cigarette with charred end. "You should be more careful whereyou throw them, Garwood. This came from the window just as I was passingbelow.""It's not mine," was the answer."Oh, then it was you, Hyde?"Grafton smiled and shrugged his shoulders."If you can find any cigarettes in my room, sir, you--""Pshaw! What's the use in pretending?" interrupted the instructor, viewingKenneth balefully. "I fancy I know where to look for cigarettes, eh,Garwood? You have no objection to emptying your pockets for me?""None at all, Mr. Whipple.""Then, may I suggest that you do so?"Kenneth dove into one pocket and brought out a handkerchief and a smallpiece of pencil, into the other and--"Ah!" said Mr. Whipple triumphantly.In Kenneth's hand lay a piece of folded paper, a skate strap and--a box ofcigarettes! He stared at the latter bewilderedly for a moment. Then heglanced sharply at Grafton. That youth regarded him commiseratingly andslowly shook his head."I'll take those, if you please," said Mr. Whipple. Kenneth handed themover."I never saw them before," he said simply."Oh, of course not," jeered the instructor. "And the room rank withcigarette smoke! That's a pretty tall story, I think, Garwood. You told meonce that I would never catch you smoking cigarettes. You see you were atrifle mistaken. You may go to your room.""I wasn't smoking cigarettes," protested Kenneth. "I never saw that boxbefore in my life. If Hyde won't tell, I will. I came up here and foundhim--"He stopped. What was the use? Telling on another fellow was mean work, and,besides, Mr. Whipple wouldn't believe him. He had no proof to offer and allthe evidence was against him. He turned to the door. On the threshold helooked back at Grafton."You sneak!" he said softly.Then, with the angry tears blinding his eyes, he hurried down to his roomto unburden his heart to Joe Brewster.Joe was wildly indignant and was all for dashing upstairs and "knocking thespots out of Graft!" But Kenneth refused his consent to such a procedure."I'll tell them the truth when they call me up," he said. "If they don'tbelieve me they needn't."Well, they didn't. Kenneth refused to incriminate Grafton and as all theevidence was strongly against him he was held guilty. The verdict was"suspension" as soon as Kenneth's parents could be communicated with.Grafton denied having smoked with Kenneth and got off with a lecture forpermitting an infraction of the rules in his study. Joe stormed andsputtered, but as Kenneth had bound him to secrecy he could do no more.That night Upper and Lower met in the second basket-ball game and GraftonHyde played right guard on the Lower House team. Fate was kind to the Beds.Knox, Upper's crack right forward, was out of the game with a twisted ankleand when the last whistle blew the score board declared Lower House thewinner by a score of 12 to 9. And Lower House tramped through the snow,around and around the campus, and made night hideous with songs and cheersuntil threatened by the faculty with dire punishment if they did not atonce retire to their rooms. And up in Number 12 Kenneth, feeling terriblyout of it all, heard and was glad of the victory.Sunday afternoon he spent in packing his trunk, for, in spite of Joe'spleadings, he was determined not to return to Hilltop when his term ofsuspension was over. He expected to hear from his father in the morning, inwhich case he would take the noon train to New York on the first stage ofhis journey.That night they sat up late, since it was to be their last eveningtogether, and Joe was very miserable. He begged Kenneth to go to Dr.Randall and tell just what had occurred. But Kenneth shook his head."He wouldn't believe me if I did," he said. "And, anyhow, what's the use ofstaying while Whipple's here? He'd get me fired sooner or later. No, thebest way to do is to quit now. I'm sorry, Joe; you and I were getting ontogether pretty well, weren't we?""Yes," answered Joe sadly. And then he became reminiscent and asked whetherKenneth remembered the way they kicked the furniture around that firstevening and how Kenneth had joshed Grafton Hyde.When they at last went to bed Kenneth found himself unable to sleep. Eleveno'clock struck on the town clock. From across the room came Joe's regularbreathing and Kenneth, punching his pillow into a new shape, envied him.For a half hour longer he tossed and turned, and then slumber came to him,yet so fitfully that he was wide awake and out of bed the instant that thatfirst shrill cry of "Fire!" sounded in the corridor.
VKenneth's first act after hearing the alarm was to awake Joe, This he didby the simple expedient of yanking the bedclothes away from him and yelling"Fire!" at the top of his lungs. Then, stumbling over the chairs, he gropedhis way to the hall door and opened it. The corridor was already filledwith excitement and confusion. Of the eighteen boys who roomed on thatfloor fully half were in evidence, standing dazedly about in pyjamas ornight shirts and shouting useless questions and absurd answers. Simms, wholived at the far end of the corridor, emerged from his room dragging asteamer trunk after him. Instantly the scantily clad youths dashed intotheir rooms intent on rescuing their belongings. Joe joined Kenneth at thedoor."Where's the fire?" he gasped."I don't know," answered Kenneth, "but I can smell it. Get something on;I'm going to. Has anyone given the alarm?" he asked, as Simms hurried backtoward his study."Yes! No! I don't know! Everything's on fire upstairs! You'd better getyour things out!""Somebody ought to give the alarm," said Kenneth. "Who's seen Mr. Bronson?"But none had time to answer him. Kenneth scooted down the hall and thumpedat the instructor's door. There was no answer and Kenneth unceremoniouslyshoved it open. The study was in darkness."Mr. Bronson!" he cried. "Mr. Bronson!"There was no reply, and Kenneth recollected that very frequently Mr.Bronson spent Sunday night at his home. He hurried back to his own room andfound Joe throwing their belongings out of the windows. At that moment thebell on School Hall began to clang wildly and a second afterwards the alarmwas taken up by the fire bell in the village, a mile away.Kenneth pulled on his trousers and shoes, looked for a coat only to findthat Joe had thrown all the coats out of the windows, and went back to thecorridor. All up and down it boys were staggering along with trunks andbags, while from the western end the smoke was volleying forth from Number19 in great billowy clouds. From the floor above raced fellows with suitcases and small trunks, shouting and laughing in the excitement of themoment.One of the older boys, Harris by name, came galloping upstairs with a fireextinguisher, followed by a crowd of partly dressed fellows from UpperHouse. But the smoke which filled the end of the corridor drove them backand the stream from the extinguisher wasted itself against the fastyellowing plaster of the wall. The building was rapidly becominguninhabitable and, calling Joe from the study, where he was vainly tryingto get the study table through the casement, Kenneth made for the stairs.The light at the far end of the corridor shone red and murky through thedense clouds of smoke."All out of the building!" cried a voice from below, and the half dozenadventurous spirits remaining in the second floor corridor started down thestairs."Do you know how it began?" asked Joe of a boy beside him."Yes," was the reply. "King, in 19, was reading in bed with a lamp he has,and he went to sleep and upset it somehow. He got burned, they say.""Serves him right," muttered some one. Kenneth glanced around and foundGrafton Hyde beside him."Hello," said Kenneth."Hello," answered Grafton. "Did you save anything?""Yes, I guess so," Kenneth replied. "Did you?"For the moment animosities were forgotten, wiped out of existence by thecalamity."Not much," said Grafton. "But I don't care. I tried to get my trunk downbut the smoke was fierce and the end of the building was all in flames. SoI lit out."The lower hall was crowded with boys. Dr. Randall, tall and gaunt in a redflowered dressing gown, and several of the instructors were doing theirbest to clear the building."All out, boys!" called the doctor. "It isn't safe here now! The firemenwill be here in a minute and you'll only be in the way! I want you all togo over to Upper House!""Hello!" said Kenneth. "What's the matter with you, Jasper?"Jasper Hendricks, the youngest boy in school, was crouched in a dim cornerof the hall, sobbing and shaking as though his heart was broken."What's up?" asked Grafton."Don't know. Here's young Jasper crying like a good one. What's thetrouble, Jasper? Did you get hurt?"But the boy apparently didn't even hear them."Lost his things, probably," suggested Grafton, "and feels it. Never mind,kid? you'll get some more.""I want every boy out of the building!" cried the doctor. But his voice wasalmost drowned in the babel of cries and shouts and laughter."Come on, Jasper," said Kenneth, trying to raise him to his feet. "We'vegot to get out."For the first time he caught a glimpse of the boy's face. It was white anddrawn and horror stricken."What's the matter?" cried Kenneth in alarm. Young Hendrick's lips movedbut Kenneth could not distinguish the whispered words."Eh? What's that? Speak louder! You're all right now! Don't be scared! Whatis it?" And Kenneth bent his head as the younger boy clung to himconvulsively."Mister Whipple!"Kenneth barely caught the whispered words."Mr. Whipple," he muttered. "What does he mean?" He pulled the lad's bodyaround so that he could see his face in the smoke-dimmed light. "What abouthim, Jasper? He's safe, isn't he?"The white face shook from side to side."What does he say?" cried Grafton. "Whipple? Isn't he down? Where is he?""He must be--!"Kenneth paused, his own face paling, and looked fearsomely toward thestairs down which the gray-brown smoke was floating wraithlike. Then hiseyes met Grafton's and he read his own horror reflected there."Jasper's room is next to Mr. Whipple's," said Grafton hoarsely. "He musthave seen something! Jasper, is Mr. Whipple up there now?"The lad's head nodded weakly. Then he broke again into great dry sobs thatshook him from head to foot. Kenneth seized him beneath the shoulders anddragged him a few yards nearer the door. There he put him down."Don't cry, Jasper," he whispered kindly. "It's all right; we'll save him!"For an instant he looked about him. Through the doors the boys were pushingtheir way outward, protesting, laughing, excitedly.Of the faculty Dr. Randall alone was in sight. One other instant Kennethhesitated. Then with a bound he was halfway up the first flight."Who's that going up there?" cried the doctor. "Here, come back instantly!"But Kenneth did not hear, or, hearing, paid no heed. He was at the secondfloor, the evil-smelling smoke thick about him, blinding his eyes andsmarting his throat. Above him was a strange lurid glare and the roaring ofthe flames. For a moment his heart failed him and he leaned weak andpanting against the banister. Then a voice sounded in his ears."It's no use, Garwood," cried Grafton. "We can't get up there.""We'll try," was the answer.Bending low, his sleeve over his mouth, Kenneth rushed the next flight.Grafton was at his heels. At the top Kenneth crouched against the last stepand squinted painfully down the corridor in the direction of Mr. Whipple'sroom and the flames. The heat was stifling and the smoke rolled toward themin great red waves. Grafton, choking, coughing, crouched at Kenneth's side."We can't reach him," he muttered. "The fire has cut him off."It seemed true. Mr. Whipple's room was at the far end and between his doorand the stairway the flames were rioting wildly, licking up the woodworkand playing over the lathes from which the plaster was crumbling away.Kenneth's heart sank and for an instant he thought he was going to faint.Everything grew black before him and his head settled down on hisoutstretched arm. Then Grafton was shaking him by the shoulder and hissenses returned."Come on!" cried Grafton. "Let's get out of this while we can! We'll beburned alive in a minute!" There was panic in his voice and he tuggednervously at Kenneth's arm.At that moment a great expanse of plaster fell from the ceiling some thirtyfeet away and the flames glared luridly through the corridor, makingeverything for a brief moment as light as day. From below came calls, butKenneth did not hear them."Look!" he cried, seizing Grafton's arm. "On the floor! Do you see?""Yes," shouted Grafton. "It's Mr. Whipple! Can we get him?""I'm going to try," was the calm reply. "Will you come with me?"For a moment the two boys looked into each other's eyes, squintingpainfully in the acrid smoke. The flames crackled and roared in their ears.The strained, terror-stricken look passed from Grafton's face. His eyeslighted and he even smiled a little."Come on," he said simply."Wait!" Kenneth leaned down so that his face was against the spindles andtook a deep breath. There was a current of clearer air arising from thewell and, although it smarted in his lungs, it gave him relief. Graftonfollowed his example. Then, for they realized that there was no time tolose, with one accord they rushed, stooping, down the corridor into theface of the flames.Mr. Whipple lay stretched face downward on the floor where he had fallenwhen overcome by the smoke and, as is more than likely, his terror. He wasin his night clothes and one hand grasped a small satchel. Behind him thefloor was afire scarcely a yard away. The thirty feet from the stairs towhere he lay seemed as many yards to the rescuers, and the heat grewfiercer at every step. But they gained the goal, fighting for breath,bending their heads against the savage onslaughts of the flames, and seizedthe instructor's arms. Whether he was alive there was no time to ascertain.There was time for nothing save to strive to drag him toward the stairway.With tightly closed eyes, from which the smarting tears rolled down theirfaces, and sobbing breaths, they struggled back.But if it had been hard going it was trebly hard returning. The instructorwas not a large man nor a heavy one, but now he seemed to weigh tons. Theirfeet slipped on the plaster-sprinkled boards and their hearts hammered intheir throats. Ten feet they made; and then, as though angry at beingdeprived of their prey, the flames burst with a sudden roar through themelting partition a few feet behind them and strove to conquer them with ascorching breath. Kenneth staggered to his knees under its fury and Graftongave a cry of anguish and despair. But the fiery wave receded and theystruggled desperately on, fighting now for their own lives as well as forthat of the instructor.Ten feet more and the worst was passed. A frenzied rush for the stairwayand safety was in sight. Half falling, half stumbling, they went down thefirst few steps to the landing at the turn, Mr. Whipple's inert bodythumping along between them. There, with faces held close to the boards,they lay drinking in grateful breaths of the smoke-poisoned air, which,after what they had been inhaling, was fresh and sweet.Then, above the booming of the fire, voices reached them, hoarse, anxiousvoices, and white faces peered up at them through the smoke from thecorridor below."All right!" called Kenneth, but, to his surprise, his words were onlyhoarse whispers. Struggling to his knees, he seized Mr. Whipple's arm andstrove to go on. But Grafton offered no assistance. He lay motionless wherehe had thrown himself on the landing."Come on!" croaked Kenneth impatiently, and tugged at his double burden.Then the crimson light went suddenly out and he subsided limply against thebanisters just as the rescuers dashed up to them.When Kenneth came to a few minutes later he was being carried across thecampus. Near at hand a fire engine throbbed and roared, sending showers ofsparks into the winter darkness. Behind him a red glare threw long movingshadows across the grass. In his ears were shouts and commands and a shrillwhistling. Then he lost consciousness again.
VIKenneth lay in bed in Dr. Randall's spare chamber. His left hand wasbandaged and a wet cloth lay across his closed eyes. A window was open andthe lowered shade billowed softly up and down, letting into the darkenedroom quick splashes of sunlight. From without came the cheerful patter ofmelting snow upon the sill.Kenneth had had his breakfast--how long ago he could not say, since he hadslept since then--and had learned all the exciting news; that Lower Housewas so badly burned that there was no question of repairing it; that Mr.Whipple had been sent to the hospital at Lynnminster, seriously but notdangerously hurt; that Grafton Hyde had received no damage and was aboutthis forenoon wearing a strangely blank expression due to the loss of hiseyebrows; and that King, to whose disregard of the rules the fire had beendue, had, previous rumors to the contrary, escaped unharmed.Kenneth's informant had been the school doctor, who had also imparted theinformation that Kenneth's injuries were trifling, a couple of scorchedfingers and a pair of badly inflamed eyes, but that nevertheless he wouldkindly spend the day in bed, "as heroes are scarce these days and must bewell looked after when found."There came a soft tapping at the door and Kenneth peeked eagerly out fromunder the bandage as Grafton Hyde entered and tiptoed across the floor.Kenneth looked for a moment and grinned; then he chuckled; then he threw anarm across his face and gave way to laughter unrestrained. Grafton laughed,too, though somewhat ruefully."Don't I look like a fool?" he asked.Kenneth regained his composure with a gasp."I--I didn't mean to be rude," he said contritely, "but--""Oh, I don't mind," answered Grafton. "Besides, I'll bet you're the sameway.""Me?" Kenneth looked startled and passed a finger questioningly across hiseyebrows. "There's nothing here!" he gasped. Off came the bandage. "How doI look?"A smile started at Grafton's lips and slowly overspread his face. Kennethsmiled back."We must be a pair of freaks," he said, chuckling. "Do they ever grow backagain?""Yes, in no time," answered Grafton. "Besides, Joe says that all you haveto do is to take a pencil and rub it over and no one can tell. I'm going totry it." He sat down cautiously on the edge of the bed. "How are youfeeling!" he asked."All right. Kind of tired, though. How about you?""Fine." There was a silence during which he played nervously with a shoestrap. At last:"I say, Garwood," he blurted, "it's--it's all right about--about that, youknow. I told President Randall.""You needn't have," muttered Kenneth."I wanted to! And I'm sorry. It was a sneaky thing that I did to you. I--Idon't know why I cared so much about staying on the team; I don't now.""Did he--was he mad about it?""Wasn't he! I am to be suspended for a month.""I'm sorry," said Kenneth honestly. "It--it was decent of you to tell.""Decent nothing! It was decent of you not to blow on me the other day. Whydidn't you?" he asked curiously."Oh, I don't know," answered Kenneth embarrassedly. "I--I didn't like to, Isuppose. When are you going?""This afternoon. That's why I came to see you now, I wanted to--to tell youthat I was sorry about it and see if you wouldn't be friends.""That's all right," said Kenneth. "I--I'm glad you came."Had they been older they would have shaken hands. As it was they merelyavoided looking at each other and maintained an embarrassed silence for amoment. It amounted to the same thing.The silence was broken by a knock on the door."Come!" called Kenneth."Look at the heroes having a convention," said Joe gayly as he crossed thefloor. "The Society of the Singed Cats! Well, how are you feeling, chum?""Fine and dandy," answered Kenneth."Good! Say, we had lots of fun last night! They bunked us in with the UpperHouse fellows, and maybe there wasn't a circus! Every time we see King weask him if it's hot enough for him! I wouldn't be surprised if he foldedhis pyjamas like the Arabs--that's all he saved, you know--and as silentlystole away. We've sure got him worried!" He paused and looked inquiringlyfrom Kenneth to Grafton. "Did Graft tell you?" he asked.Kenneth nodded."I always told you he wasn't a bad sort, didn't I? Don't you care, Graft;we'll keep a place warm for you, and a month is just a nice vacation.Wouldn't mind it myself! Say, are you going to be fit to play in Saturday'sgame, Kenneth?""I don't know. Will they let me?""Why not? They haven't anything against you now, have they? How about yourblessed eyes?""Oh, they'll be all right, I guess. But I wish--Graft was going to play.""Oh, I don't care," declared that youth stoutly. "Go in and give 'em fits,Kenneth. And--one of you fellows might write me about the game," he addedwistfully."We'll do it," said Joe. "We'll write a full account and send diagrams ofthe broken heads of the Uppers. Only thing I'm afraid of," he addedsoberly, "is that now that Kenneth hasn't any eyebrows they may take hishead for the ball!" Kenneth was up the next day feeling as fit as ever, butwhen the subject of returning to basketball practice was broached to thedoctor, Kenneth met with disappointment."I can't allow it," said the doctor kindly but firmly. "I'm sorry, but youknow we're responsible for you while you're here, my boy, and I think you'dbetter keep away from violent exercise for a week or two. No, no morebasket ball this year."The verdict brought gloom to Lower House, or, as Upper facetiously calledthem now, the Homeless Ones. For with Grafton gone and Kenneth out of thegame the team's plight was desperate. But there was no help for it, and soJim Marble went to work to patch up the team as best he might, puttingSimms back at guard and placing Niles, a substitute, at right forward.The Homeless Ones were quartered wherever space could be found for them.Joe and Kenneth were so fortunate as to get together again in an improvisedbedroom, which had previously been a disused recitation room, at the top ofSchool Hall. Most of the Lower House residents had saved their principaleffects and those who had lost their clothing were reimbursed by theschool.Friday morning two announcements of much interest were made."On Monday next," said the doctor, "we receive a new member into theFaculty, Mr. George Howell Fair. Mr. Fair, who is a graduate of Princeton,will take the place left vacant by the resignation of Mr. Whipple, who wasso unfortunately injured in the recent disaster. Mr. Fair will take up Mr.Whipple's work where that gentleman left off."There was a stir throughout chapel, and murmurs of satisfaction. The doctorpicked up another slip of paper, cast his eyes over it and cleared histhroat."You will also be pleased to learn," he said, "that in our time oftribulation generous friends have come to our assistance. We have lost oneof our buildings, but money has already been provided for the erection of anew and far more suitable one. I have received from Mr. John Garwood, ofCleveland, and Mr. Peter L. Hyde, of Chicago, a draft for the sum of onehundred thousand dollars for the erection of a large dormitory capable ofhousing the entire student body. The generous gift seems to me especially,singularly appropriate, coming as it does from the fathers of those twostudents who recently so bravely distinguished themselves. With thisthought in mind the Faculty has already decided that the new dormitory whencompleted shall be known as Garwood-Hyde Hall."Well, Kenneth's secret was out! I hope and believe that his fellows heldhim in no higher esteem because they found out that he was the son of oneof the country's wealthiest men. But true it is that for the next few dayshe was the object of violent interest not altogether unmixed with awe.But Joe had to have everything explained, and as the shortest means to thatresult Kenneth produced a letter which he had received from his father theday before and gave it to Joe to read. Only portions of it interest us,however."The newspaper account" (ran the letter) "says that neither of yousustained serious injuries. I trust that it is so. But I think I had bettersatisfy myself on that point, and so you may look for me at the school onSaturday next. Your mother is anxious to have you come home, but I tell herthat a little thing like pulling a professor out of the fire isn't likelyto feaze a Garwood!"Now, another thing. You recollect that when you decided to go to Hilltopwe talked it over and thought it best to keep dark the fact that you weremy son. You wanted to stand on your own merits, and I wanted you to. Then,too, we feared that Hyde's boy, because of the misunderstanding betweenPeter Hyde and myself, might try to make it uncomfortable for you. Thatalarm seems now to have been groundless, since surely a boy who could dowhat he did--and join you in doing it--wouldn't be likely to pick onanother. But that's of no consequence now, as it happens."Quite by accident I met Peter here the day after the papers published thestory of your little stunt. Well, he was so tickled about it that we shookhands and had a 'touching reconciliation,' quite like what you see in theplays. We talked about 'those worthless kids' of ours and it ended up withhis coming home to dinner with me. So you see you did more than save aprofessor's life; you brought about a renewal of an old friendship. Afterdinner we got to talking it over and decided the least we could do was toreplace that building. So I've sent your principal a draft by this mailwhich will cover the cost of a good new hall. I'm giving half and Peter'sgiving half. I hope you and young Hyde will be good friends, just as hisfather and I are going to be hereafter. You may expect me Saturday.""Now," cried Joe triumphantly when he had finished reading, "now Iunderstand about those brushes!""What brushes?" asked Kenneth."Why, the night of the fire I threw your suit case out of the window, andwhen I went down to get it, it had bust open and was full of swellsilver-backed things. I thought at first I'd got some one else's bag, but Ifound I hadn't. And I wondered why you hadn't had those brushes out.""Oh," laughed Kenneth, "I thought they looked a bit too giddy!"
VIIIt was Saturday night and the gymnasium was crowded. The Faculty was thereto a man, and with them, the honored guest of the evening, sat Mr. JohnGarwood, trying hard to make out what all the fuss was about and lookingmore often toward a bench at the side of the hall than toward thestruggling players. On the bench, one of several red-shirted players, satKenneth. He was forbidden to enter the game, but there was nothing toprevent his wearing his uniform once more and sitting with the substitutes.But the fellows with him were not all subs. One was Simms, weary andpanting, nursing a twisted ankle which a moment before had put him out ofthe game. And Upper House had suffered, too, for across the floor CarlJones was viewing the last of the contest from the inglorious vantage ofthe side line. Upper and Lower were still shouting hoarsely and singingdoggedly. On the scoreboard the legend ran:Upper House 11--Lower House 11.No wonder every fellow's heart was in his throat! It had been a contest tostir the most sluggish blood. In spite of the absence of Grafton andKenneth, Lower had played a hard, fast game, and had she made a decent percent of her tries at goal would have been the winner at this moment. ButJim Marble had missed almost every goal from foul, and Collier, who hadtried his hand, had been scarcely more successful. And now the score wastied and it seemed ages agone since the timekeepers had announced oneminute to play.The ball hovered in the middle of the floor, passed from side to side. ThenHurd of Upper secured it, and, with a shout to Knox, sped, dribbling, downthe side line. But a red-shirted youth sprang in front of him and the twowent to the floor together, while the ball bounded into the ready hands ofJim Marble."Oh, good work, Joe!" shouted Kenneth, as Joe sprang to his feet and divedagain into the play.Jim, taking long and desperate chances, tried for a basket from near thecenter of the floor and missed by a bare six inches. A groan went up fromthe supporters of the Red, while Upper House sighed its relief. Then therewas a mix-up under Upper's goal and the whistle shrilled."Double foul!" called the referee.A sudden stillness fell over the hall. Not a few of the players sank to thefloor where they stood, while Knox picked up the ball and advanced to theline. Kenneth, watching with his heart in his throat, had a vagueimpression of Jim Marble bending across the rail in consultation with oneof the Faculty. Then the ball rose gently from Knox's hands, arched in itsflight and came down square on the rim of the basket. For a moment itpoised there while hearts stood still. Then it toppled gently over the sideto the floor. Knox had missed!Lower House set up a frantic chorus of triumph. If only Marble or Colliercould succeed where Knox had failed! But neither Jim nor the left guard wasgoing to try, it seemed. For over at the Red's bench a lithe form waspeeling off his sweater, and in a moment the cry swept the hall:"Garwood's going to throw! Garwood! Garwood!""It's all right," Jim had whispered. "I asked the doc. Do your best. If youmake it we win, Garwood!"Kenneth, his pulses far from calm, walked out on the floor and picked upthe ball. The shouting died away and the sudden stillness seemed appalling.He toed the black streak across the boards and measured the distance to thebasket. Then, his legs astraddle, his knees slightly bent, he swung theball once--twice--There was a moment of suspense, and then--Then pandemonium broke loose! The ball dropped to the floor unheeded, butabove it the tattered meshes of the netting swayed where it had struck themgoing through! It was the cleanest kind of a basket, and it won the gameand the series and the Shield for Lower House!Kenneth, fighting off the howling fellows who would have perched him ontheir shoulders, caught a glimpse of his father's amused face, and brokefor the stairway.
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