The Seventh Tutor

by Ralph Henry Barbour

"I'm being perfectly honest with you," said dad. "I tell you frankly thatI don't expect you to succeed, Mr. Wigg----""Twigg," corrected the chap in the basket chair."Pardon me; Twigg. The boy is simply unmanageable, especially where studyis concerned. He--but, there, perhaps it will be best if I don't prejudiceyou too much. You'll have a free hand; I shan't interfere between you. Thelast tutor came to me every day with the story of his troubles. I paid himto keep them to himself; I don't want to hear them. I simply hand the boyover to you and say: 'Here he is; make a gentleman of him if you can, andincidentally get him ready for college. Punish him whenever you see fit.Take any method in doing it you like, so long as you don't forget you're agentleman; brutality I won't stand.'"I wished I could see the chap's face; but I couldn't; just his feet. Hewore low patent leathers."If at the end of one month," dad went on, "you have managed to get theupper hand, we'll continue the arrangement. If you have failed I shall haveno further need of you. In the meanwhile, until then, you're a member ofthe family, free to come and go as you like. See that you're comfortable.That's all, I guess. Want to try it?""Yes," said the chap. I didn't like the way he said it, though; it soundedso kind of certain. All the others had been a bit nervous when dad got tothat point."Very well," dad answered. "We'll call it settled. As--er--as a--sidelighton Raymond's code of honor, Mr. Twigg--you said Twigg?--I'll mention thatfor the last few minutes he has been listening to our conversation frombehind the hall door. You may come out now, Raymond."I went out, grinning. It was all well enough for dad to talk about "thelast few minutes," but I was sure he hadn't known I was there until Ikicked the door after the chap said "yes" like that. The chap got out ofhis chair and looked at me as though they hadn't been talking about me forhalf an hour."Raymond, this is Mr. John Twigg, your new tutor," said dad."Thought it was about time for another," I said. Twigg held out his hand,and so I shook with him. He shook different from the others; sort of asthough he had bones and things inside his fingers instead of cotton wool."Glad to see you," he said. "Hope we'll get on together.""Oh, I'll get on," said I; "but I don't know about you.""That'll do, Raymond," said dad angrily. "I don't expect you to act like agentleman; but you might at least be less of a cad.""I ain't a cad!" I muttered."What else are you when you listen behind doors to things you're notexpected to hear? When you talk like a gutter snipe and act--""You're a liar!" I shouted. "Liar! Liar! Liar!"Dad's face got purple like it always does when he's mad, and his handsshook. For a moment I thought he was going to jump for me; he never has, nomatter how mad he gets. Then he leaned back again in his chair and turnedto Twigg with a beast of a sneer on his face."You see?" he asked, with a shrug. "Nice, sweet-tempered, clean-tonguedyouth, isn't he? Want to call it off?"I looked scowlingly at Twigg. He was leaning back, hands in pockets,looking at me through half-closed eyes as though I was a side show at acircus. I stared back at him defiantly. "Have a look," I jeered. He raiseda finger and scratched the side of his nose without taking his eyes off me,just as though he was a doctor trying to decide what nasty stuff to giveme. After a bit I dropped my eyes; I tried not to, but they got toblinking."No," said Twigg. "If you don't mind I'll walk back to the station andtelegraph for my trunk.""Sit still," said dad, "and I'll get the cart around. Or you can write yourmessage and I'll have Forbes send it.""Thanks," said Twigg, "I'd like the walk." He turned to me. "Want to goalong?"I grinned at him."No, I don't want to go along," I said mockingly.He didn't seem to notice."Luncheon is at--?""Two o'clock," said dad.Dad went into the house, and Twigg put a gray felt hat on his head andstrode off down the drive. I sat on the porch rail and watched him. Helooked about five feet eight inches, and was broad across the shoulders. Hehad a good walk. I slouched when I walked. After he was out of sight Irather wished I'd gone along. There wasn't anything particular to do athome, and I could have told him about the other tutors; there's some thingsthat dad doesn't know.I found Twigg kept a diary. He went to the city on the Wednesday afternoonafter he came, and I rubbered around to see what I could find. The diarywas in his table drawer. It was awful dull rot until I got to the last pageor two. The day before he'd written a lot about me. This was it; I copiedit:"June 1st."Fourth day at Braemere. First desire to throw it up and acknowledge defeatquite gone. Am determined to see it through. I think I can win. At allevents the thing won't lack interest. Can't flatter myself that I've mademuch headway. R. is like a rhinoceros. Can't find a vulnerable spotanywhere. He seems morally calloused. I say seems because I can scarcelybelieve that a boy of sixteen can really be as absolutely unmoral as heappears. Perhaps, eventually, I will find an Achilles' heel."Mr. Dale stands by his agreement. He never offers to interfere. So muchthe better. Mr. D.'s attitude toward R. is humorous as well as lamentable.He views the boy as though he were entirely irresponsible for his being. Itis plain that he sees no connection between the boy's extraordinarycharacter and his own; yet they are alike in many particulars; one couldalmost express my meaning by saying that R. is his father in anuncultivated state. Mr. D. ascribes the boy's faults to the other side ofthe house; he is convinced that the ungovernable temper and lack of moralsense are unfortunate inheritances from the late Mrs. D. Probably this istrue in a measure. R. was the only child. The mother died at his birth. Mr.D, returned to this country when R. was four years old, and purchased thisestate. Here the boy has grown up practically neglected. During twelveyears Mr. D. has been out of the country the better part of eight. The boyhas been left to the care of servants. For the past three years he has beenin the hands of tutors, whose periods of service ran from one week to threemonths. I am the seventh in line to attempt the work."Physically R. is in good shape. He is fond of outdoor life; likes horses,dogs and animals generally; rides well; shoots and fishes. Mentally he isdecidedly above normal, but quite untrained. Hates study. Would grade aboutthird year in Latin school. I shall begin at the bottom with him. It'sgoing to be a hard pull, but I'm going to win out."I was going to empty the ink bottle over the pages; but I knew if I didhe'd hide the book or lock it up, and I wanted to see what else he'd write.So I put it back in the drawer. I was sure I'd have him done to a turn in amonth. But it was going to take longer than with the other fools, though."That'll do," said Twigg. "You haven't studied a lick, have you?""Not a lick," I answered."When do you think of beginning?" he asked."Not going to begin at all.""Oh, poppycock, my boy." He tossed down the Latin book and yawned. "Don'tyou want to go to college?""No; not if I've got to study all that darned stuff.""What kind of stuff?""Darned stuff, I said. You heard me, didn't you?""Yes; but I thought perhaps I'd mistaken. Well, we'll try this againto-morrow. How about mathematics?"I winked."Not prepared? German ditto, I presume?""I haven't studied at all, I tell you.""Well, we know where to begin to-morrow, don't we? Is there any decentfishing around here?""Find out," I muttered."Oh, well, I didn't suppose there was," he answered. "It's anout-of-the-way spot up here, anyway.""That's a lie! There's as good trout and pickerel fishing here as there isanywhere in the State, if you know the proper place to look for it.""Maybe; maybe there are lions and tigers if you know where to look forthem. But I'll believe it when I see them."He yawned again and looked out the window and drummed on the desk. After abit I said:"You city fellows think you know it all, don't you? If you want fishingI'll take you where you'll get it.""I'm not particular about it," he said. "I know about what that sort offishing is; sit on a bank or stand up to your waist in water all day, andcatch two little old four-ounce trout and a sunfish."I jumped up."I guess I know more about this place than you do," I cried angrily. "Youcome with me and I'll show you fish.""Too sunny, isn't it?" he asked."Not for where I mean.""Got an extra rod?""Yes; you can take my split bamboo--if you won't go and bust it.""All right; if I break it I'll buy you another. Fish from the bank, do you?or shall I put boots on?""Boots. Got any?""Yes. I'll go up and put them on. Take those books off with you, please.You won't have time for studying before night.""I won't then, either," I said."Well, anyhow, we won't leave them here. Let's keep the shop lookingship-shape. By the way, it's a bit late, isn't it? How about lunch?""Take some grub with us. I'll tell Annie to put some up. I'll meet you onthe steps in ten minutes.""All right; I'll be there. Er--Raymond!""Huh?" said I."You've forgotten the books.""Oh, let 'em wait.""All right." He sat down at the desk again."Ain't you going fishing?" I asked."No. I think not," he answered. "Somehow, while those books are here I feelthat we ought to stay at home and study. I dare say the fish will be thereto-morrow as well as to-day, eh?""Oh, all right," I said sulkily. "Only you can't make me study, you know."I sat down and put my hands in my pockets. I looked at him out of thecorners of my eyes. He didn't seem to have heard me."Let's see," he said after a moment. "How many lines were we to have inthis?""I don't remember," I growled. Then I jumped up and grabbed the books. "Youmake me sick," I said. "I'm going fishing."I took the books out and slammed the door as hard as it would slam.The day after we went fishing, and got fourteen trout, I had earlybreakfast and rode Little Nell over to Harrisbridge and played pool withNate Golden, whose dad has the livery stable, all morning. We had dinner atthe inn, and when I got back it was nearly three o'clock. Tommy, the stableboy, told me as I rode in that Twigg had left word he wanted to see me whenI got back. Well, I didn't want to see him. So I went in the kitchen wayand up the back stairs to my room. When I opened the door there was Twigg,sitting in the rocker with the books all spread out on the center table."Hello," he said. "I'm making myself at home, you see. We're a bit latewith lessons, Raymond, so I thought we might have them up here; then wewon't interfere with your father's writing.""I don't know 'em," I said."I'm afraid you haven't studied them. Never mind; when you get your bootsoff we'll go over them together. Here, hold them up. There's no usebothering with jacks when you've got some one to pull them off for you."I let him do it. He sort of takes you by surprise sometimes and you don'tknow just what to say or do. Afterwards I threw myself onto the bed andlighted a cigarette. Twigg looked at me and raised his eyebrows."Don't smoke while lessons are going on, please," he said."Will if I like," I said."I'm afraid I can't have that.""Well, if you don't like it you can lump it." But just the same I kept asharp eye on him."Well, you're the host up here," he answered calmly. "I suppose I mustconsider that." Then what did he do but take out that reeking briar pipe ofhis, ram it full of nasty strong tobacco and begin to smoke! "One thing ata time, eh? We'll have a quiet smoke first and lessons afterwards. Tell mewhat you've been doing.""None of your darned business," I said warmly."I suppose it isn't." He took up a book, one of Marryat's, crossed his legsand began to read. Gee! how that old pipe smelled! I laid on the bed andwatched him blowing big gray clouds out under the corner of his mustache.When I'd smoked three cigarettes he looked over at me."Ready?" he asked."No, I'm not ready.""Let me know when you are," he said. Then he filled the pipe again and wenton reading. After a bit I crawled off the bed. My head felt funny, and Iwas almost choking with the smoke. He laid down the book and looked up atme."Shall we begin?" he asked."I don't care what you do," I growled. "I'm going outdoors.""Not yet," said he. He got up and locked the door and put the key in hispocket. "You forget the lesson.""You let me out, darn you!" I yelled. "I'm not going to study. You can keepme here all night and I won't study. You see if I do!""Don't be silly," he said, just as though he were talking to a kid. "Youand I are going over those lessons if it takes to-night and to-morrow andthe rest of the week. When you're ready to begin let me know; I shan't askyou again." And then he went back to that book.After a while it began to get darkish. I went back to the bed and tried tosleep, but I couldn't. I could have killed Twigg; but there wasn't any wayto do it. He kept on reading and smoking. About six o'clock he said:"This is quite a yarn, isn't it? Somehow I never seemed to find time forMarryat when I was a boy. You've read this, of course?""Yes," I muttered."Like it?""Yes.""What's your favorite book?""I dunno; Froissart, I guess.""Yes, that's a good one. Ever read 'Treasure Island'?""No; who's it by?""Stevenson; know him at all?""Did he write 'Tower of London' and those things?""No, he didn't. He wrote 'Kidnapped' and 'The Black Arrow' and 'DavidBalfour,' and a lot of other bully ones.""'Kidnapped'?" I said. "I'd like to read that. It sounds fine.""I'll get it for you, if you like.""You needn't; if I want it I can get it myself, I guess.""Certainly."About seven I began to get awfully hungry. Twigg lighted the gas and filledhis pipe again. It made me feel sick and funny inside just to see him doit."You stop smoking that smelly thing in my room," I said."I beg your pardon, I'm sure," he said. "Just remember, however, that itwas I who objected to smoking in the first place." He put his pipe down.There was a knock at the door and Annie asked if we were there."Yes, all right," Twigg said. "Please tell Mr. Dale that Raymond and I aregoing to do some studying before dinner, and ask him not to wait.""It's a lie!" I yelled. "He's locked me in. You tell my father he's lockedme in, and won't let me have any dinner. Do you hear, Annie?""Yes, Mr. Raymond." It sounded as though she was giggling."You might leave some cold meat and a pitcher of milk on the sideboard,Annie; enough for two," said Twigg. "If we get through by nine we'll lookfor it.""Very well, sir," she answered."You--you think you're smart, don't you?" I sobbed. "I'll--I'll get evenfor this, you bet!"I don't care! I was hungry, and the wretched old tobacco smoke made me feelfunny. You'd have cried, too. He made believe he didn't hear me."You're just a big, ugly bully! If I was bigger I'd smash your face! Do youhear me?""Yes, my boy, and----""I'm not your boy! I hate you, you--you----""And let me remind you that you're wasting time." He took out his watch."It's now a quarter after seven. If we're not through up here by nine,there'll be no dinner for either of us.""Glad of it! Hope you'll starve to death. I'm--I'm not hungry. I had dinnerat Harrisbridge with Nate Golden.""Who's Nate Golden?" he asked."None of your business. If he was here I'd get him to lick you!""Lucky for me he isn't here, eh?" Then he went back to reading. I gothungrier and hungrier and had little pains inside me. I put a pillow overmy head so he wouldn't hear me crying. Then, after a long while I got upand went to the table and took up a book. He didn't pay any attention. Iwent back and sat on the bed for a minute. Then I took up the book againand threw it down so it would make a noise. He looked around."Ah, Raymond," he said, "all ready? Suppose we start with the Latin!"There wasn't any use not studying, because he didn't play fair. No man hasany right to starve you. So I studied some every day after that. OldGabbett, the chap I had before Twigg, used to shrug his shoulders when Iwouldn't study, and tell me I was a good-for-nothing and would live to behung. Then he'd go off to his room and let me alone. Browning, the chapbefore old Gab, used to get jolly mad and throw books at me, and swear tobeat the band. I used to swear back and call him Sissy. He was a Sissy; hewas about nineteen and didn't have any mustache or muscle, and he couldn'tdo a thing except study and play patience. It was rather good fun, though,getting him mad; it was mighty easy, too. But Twigg was different from anyof them. When he wasn't putting it onto me he wasn't such a bad sort--for atutor.Anyhow, he wasn't a Sissy. He could catch fish and ride fine, and he couldbeat me at target shooting with a .32 rifle. He told me one day that he wasstroke on his crew for two years. I guess that's where he got his bigshoulders and muscles. You ought to see his muscles. We went in swimmingone day and I saw them. I'll bet he was the strongest chap up our way.After he had been there a couple of weeks he went to the city again; and Iread his diary. But there wasn't anything in it about me except one thingwhich he had written on June 15th. It said:"R.'s propensity for eavesdropping and similar ungentlemanly actionsrenders it unadvisable to write anything here that I do not want read byothers. Were it not for the aforesaid propensity and one or two lesserfaults I could like the boy immensely. I have hopes, however, that when herealizes how contemptible and petty these things are he will cease doingthem. He told me once that his favorite book was Froissart. I wonder if hethinks Froissart was ever guilty of listening behind doors, spying intoothers' diaries and swearing like a tough?"Wonder how he knew?* * * * *Two days after he went to town I met him going out of the house with somegolf sticks. I went along with him to the meadow and watched him hittingthe little white ball. After a bit he let me try it. It wasn't easy,though, you bet! But when I'd sort of got the hang of it I could hit themright well. He said I did bully and if I liked I could help him lay out anine-hole course the next afternoon and we'd have some games. So we did. Wepaced off the distances between the holes and put up sticks with bits ofwhite cloth on them. The housekeeper gave us an old sheet. And the next daywe played a game. Of course he beat me. But he said I would make a goodplayer if I tried hard and kept at it. After that we used to play almostevery day, if it wasn't too hot. Only if I didn't have my lessons good hewouldn't play.One day I got behind the stone wall--we called it Stoney Bunker--andcouldn't get out, and said "darn." And Twigg picked up the balls andstarted back to the house."Golf's a gentleman's game, Raymond," he said. "We'll wait until yon getyour temper back."That made me mad and I swore some more. And there wasn't any more golf fornearly a week. He won't get mad, too; that's what makes it so beastly. Itgot pretty hot the last of the month and there wasn't much to do except layaround and read. We had lessons before breakfast sometimes while it wasnice and cool on the veranda; and in the forenoon we went swimming. One dayhe asked if I wanted him to read to me. I said he could if he liked. Iwanted him to, but I didn't want him to know it. So we sat on the lawn andhe read "Kidnapped," the book he'd spoken about. It was a Scotch story andsimply great. After that when the afternoons were too hot for golf orriding he'd read.I forgot to say that dad went away about the middle of the month and stayeda week, I guess."Hello," said Twigg, "where are you going?""Oh, just for a ride," I said. He was on the porch and so I pulled LittleNell up alongside the rail."All right; wait a minute, and I'll go along. Do you mind?""She doesn't like to stand," I muttered."She won't have to long." He grabbed the railing and vaulted over onto thedrive, and I saw that he had his riding breeches and boots on."All right," I said. "I'll wait here."He nodded and went over to the stables. When he was out of sight I jammedLittle Nell with the spurs and tore down the drive lickety-cut. I was goingover to Harrisbridge to see Nate Golden, but I didn't want to tell Twiggbecause he was so cranky; always trying to keep me at home. It was Sundaymorning, and kind of cloudy and sultry. When I got to the road I turnedNell to the right before I remembered that I'd be in sight of the house fora quarter of a mile. But I wasn't going to turn back then, so I made forthe beginning of the woods as fast as Nell could make it. I knew it wouldtake Twigg two or three minutes to saddle Sultan, and by that time I couldbe out of reach.But Twigg is always doing things you don't expect him to. When I got to theedge of the woods I looked toward the house and what did I see but Twigg onSultan trying to head me off by riding across the meadow. Just as I lookedSultan took the panel fence with a rush, got over finely and camethundering across the turf."All right," I said to myself. "If it's a race you're after you can have itwith me now!"Through the woods the road is a bit soft and spongy in places and so Ipulled Nell down a little. Then came a long hill; and by the time I was ontop of that I could hear Sultan rushing along behind. I gave Nell her headthen, for it was a good, solid road and straight as a die for over a mile.She hadn't been out of the stall for two days, and maybe she didn't tearthings up! Pretty soon I looked back. There was Twigg and Sultan justcoming up over the hill. They'd gained some. I touched Nell with the spurand she laid back her ears and just flew! That mile didn't last long, Itell you. When I got to the Fork I switched off to the left towardHarrisbridge; it was dusty, and I was pretty sure Twigg wouldn't know whichway I'd gone. The road wound sharp to the left and I'd be out of sightbefore Twigg reached the Fork. Two or three minutes later I pulled up a bitand listened. I couldn't hear a sound. I chuckled and let Nell come down toa trot, thinking, of course, Twigg had kept the right-hand road and washumping it away toward Evan's Mills. Then I got to thinking about it andsomehow I kind of wished I hadn't been so darned smart. It seemed sort ofmean because I'd said I'd wait for him and I hadn't. You see, Twigg hadsuch fool ideas on some things, like keeping his word to you and all that.I had half a mind to turn around and go back and look for him. But justthen I heard a crashing in the brush on the left and looked back and therewas Twigg and Sultan trotting through the woods toward the road. He'd cutthe corner on me! I made believe I didn't see him, and pretty soon he rodeup to the stone wall and jumped Sultan over into the road almost beside me."Well," he said, smiling, "you gave me quite a run!""Yes; but I knew Nell could beat that beast and so I slowed down.""That's all right, then. I thought at first you were trying to give me theslip, but I knew you'd said you'd wait and so I concluded you wanted somefun.""Yes," I said."This is the Harrisbridge road, isn't it?" he asked."It goes to lots of places.""Harrisbridge among them?""Yes.""Then we can keep on, eh? We might call on that friend of yours; what's hisname? Nate something?""Nate Golden," I muttered."That's it. I suppose he'd be at home?""He doesn't like swells," I said."Am I a swell?""Yes, you are.""And he wouldn't like me?""No.""Why?""Oh, just because he wouldn't; that's why. I'm going back now.""Very well; Harrisbridge some other day, Raymond."We turned the nags and walked them back toward the country road. Nell waspuffing hard and Sultan was in a lather; he was a bit soft. Pretty soonTwigg said:"I'm going in to town to-morrow, Raymond; want to come along?""Yes," I said. Dad never would let me go to the city more than once in sixmonths."Good enough; glad to have you. I'm going to run out to college in theafternoon to get some things from my trunk. Ever been out there?"I shook my head."Maybe it'll interest you," he said. "I suppose you'll go there when you'reready, eh?""Might as well go to one as another, I guess," said I."Perhaps; but I'd like you to go to mine," he answered, kind of gravely. "Ithink it's a little better than the others, you see.""I suppose you won't be there," I said, flicking Nell's ear with my crop."I'm not so sure," he said. "I'm trying for an instructorship. I get my Ph.D. next year. Then I want to go to Germany for a year to study. You'rehelping to pay for that," he said with a smile."I am?""Yes; the money I get for your tutoring is to go for that.""Oh," I said. "Then--then you're coming back to college?""If they'll have me.""Hope they won't," I said.But I didn't.The next Wednesday we had lessons after breakfast, because it was a gooddeal cooler. Twigg said I had studied first rate, and if I liked we'd havea go at golf. So we did. I beat him one up and two to play. I thought atfirst he was just letting me win, but he wasn't. He didn't seem to bethinking of golf and looked sort of sober all the way round. When we'dfinished he said:"Raymond, I don't think I'll have an opportunity to use my clubs again thissummer, and so, if you'd like me to, I'll leave them here. I dare say youcould get some fun out of them. You could get a good deal of practice thatwould help you a lot later on.""Leave them?" I asked. "I--I didn't know you were going away.""You forget that my month's up to-morrow," he answered quietly. "I was tohave a month in which to see what I could do. If by the end of that time Ihad managed to get you in control I was to stay on. That was the agreementwith your father.""Oh," I muttered. We were sitting under the big maple tree on the lawn. Ihad an iron putter and was digging a hole in the turf."Yes," he continued, "to-morrow ends the present arrangement. I wish verymuch that I could go to Mr. Dale and tell him that I had won. But I can't.I haven't won, Raymond. I have gained ground, but the victory is still along way off.""You--you've done better than the others," I muttered."Have I? Well, I'm glad of that; that's something, isn't it? No man likesto acknowledge utter defeat; I'm certain I don't."I dug away with the putter for a minute. Then I said:"If I asked dad to let you stay, don't you think he would?""Perhaps; but I wouldn't want to.""Oh, if you want to go away, all right," I grumbled."I meant that I wouldn't care to remain just because of a whim of yours. IfI believed that by staying I could accomplish something; if I thought thatyou wanted me to stay, knowing that it meant hard study--much harder thanany you've been doing--and cheerful obedience; in short, Raymond, if I knewthat I could honestly earn my salary, I'd stay."He took out his pipe and filled it. I shoved the earth back into the holein the turf. Nobody said anything for a while."I don't mind study--much," I said presently."It hasn't been hard yet," he answered."And I don't mind doing what you tell me to. You're--you're not likeSimpkins, Browning, and Gabbett.""I haven't pulled on the curb yet," he said.I started a new hole."There'd be no more Harrisbridge and Nate Golden," he said, after a bit,watching the smoke from his pipe.I stopped digging."No more cigarettes; pipes are better.""Huh," I muttered."No more swearing; there'd be a fine for swearing.""I--I wouldn't care," I said."Sure?""Sure!" I looked over at him. He was kind of smiling at me through thesmoke. I tried to grin back, but my face got the twitches and there was alump in my throat."You--you just stay here," I muttered.

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