CHAPTER XVI
AND LOWERS IT
What a commotion there was the next day!
Wayne and Don found the flag pole surrounded by a throng of delightedand amazed youths when they wandered unostentatiously to the front ofthe Academy Building on their way to chapel. What a chattering therewas! Juniors hinted proudly that they knew more about it than they wereinclined to impart, and that when it came to pure and artistic prankstheir class “was really the only one, you know!” The lower middlefellows accepted the presence of the fluttering white banner with itsderisive and unlovely emblem as a direct challenge from the juniors,and there was much talk of “punched heads.” The upper middle fellowsasserted positively that it was the work of a certain secret societywhich, despite the rules, had to their knowledge been flourishing atHillton for many years. The seniors--well, the seniors acted like allseniors. They viewed the flag with secret gusto and outward disgustand talked about “disgrace to the school” and “finding the fellowsthat did it, by Jove!” And Wayne and Don and Paddy and Dave, loud inexpressions of surprise and condemnation, mingled with the throng andlaughed in their sleeves.
Then every one ran for chapel and listened impatiently for thefaculty’s expression of its views on the subject. They were notdisappointed. When the time for announcements came, the principaldisposed of the minor affairs with his usual tranquillity, and thentook up the subject of the flag. Wayne and Don, Paddy and Dave, sittingtogether at the back of the hall, experienced a distinct sense ofdisappointment. Instead of taking the appearance of the skull andcrossbones as a thing demanding censure and threats of expulsion, theprincipal ridiculed their splendid effort!
“I presume,” he remarked without any evidence of feeling, “that itis the work of some junior. It could scarcely be anything else. Thetrick is so little and silly that none but a very young and mistakenboy would have thought of it. Whoever put the flag up there arrangedmatters so that it can not be pulled down. It would be possible forus to have the topmast lowered, but as that would necessitate a largeexpense we shall not do it. So the flag will, of course, continue tofly there, a very fitting symbol of the school’s idea of humor, untilthe wind whips it to pieces. It may be that it will bring a certainamount of ridicule on the Academy, and the sight of it may arousesensations of disgust in the breasts of sensible boys, but there is nohelp for it. The faculty will take no steps to discover the author orauthors of the silly trick, and they will not have the satisfaction ofknowing themselves to be offenders against the school authority. Theyare in no danger of the slightest punishment; I do not even ask themto own up to the affair or offer apologies. The incident is closed sofar as the faculty is concerned. It would, however, have been moreappropriate had the design on the flag been a donkey’s head; but it’stoo late to change it now.”
The four conspirators walked out of chapel in a silence that held themuntil they parted at the steps of Warren Hall. Then Dave spoke:
“Smart, weren’t we?”
There was no reply, and the four went into breakfast feeling, as Paddyafterward put it, “like excommunicated angels.” Wayne was very silentduring the forenoon and only scowled at every effort of his friends toengage him in conversation. The juniors posted a notice immediatelyafter breakfast calling for a meeting in Society House in the evening;and the example was quickly followed by the other three classes.Indignation ran high. The humor had departed from the affair, and theprospect of having the skull and crossbones fly in front of AcademyBuilding during the rest of the school year was most unwelcome. Thefour perpetrators of the trick felt this as keenly as any.
“It’s got to come down,” said Wayne doggedly, when the four congregatedin 15 Bradley after lunch.
“Well, how’s it coming down?” asked Paddy.
“We were awful asses,” said Don disgustedly.
“It wasn’t exactly our fault,” answered Dave. “If ‘Wheels’ had onlybeen decent about it! But what can you do if faculty won’t take yourefforts toward enlivenment in the proper spirit?”
“Has any one tried to get the old thing down?” questioned Paddy.
“Yes, lots of fellows have tried. Wayne pulled the flag so far up thata corner of it’s fast in the pulley arrangement,” responded Don. “If hehadn’t been so keen to overdo the thing----”
“Oh, dry up! What’s the good of blaming Wayne. We were all in itequally,” said Paddy.
“Yes, that’s so,” admitted Don. “Let’s try and think of a way ofgetting the bloody thing down.”
“Bony thing,” corrected Dave.
“Look here, fellows, I got the thing up there--it was my idea in thefirst place--and I’ll get it down again.” Wayne scowled around thelittle circle. “All I want you fellows to do is to quit nagging. Whoknows where I can get a boat hook?”
“There’s slathers of ’em in the boathouse,” said Paddy.
“Well, you get me one--a real light one. I’ll borrow Moore’s climbingirons, and after laboratory work I’ll have a try at it.”
“Can you climb?” asked Don doubtfully.
“Some,” answered Wayne. “There are spikes in the pole up as far as thecrosstree. After that I’ll use the climbing irons as far as I can, andthen shin the rest of the way.”
“But I don’t see what you want a boat hook for,” said Dave.
“To get hold of the flag, of course. It’s stuck in the block. If I canget the hook in it I reckon I can pull it free.”
“Oh, I see. Well, you might try.”
“I don’t think we ought to let him try,” said Don anxiously. “It’s anawful long way to the top of the thing, and it’s blowing a gale. At anyrate, Wayne, you’d better wait until to-morrow. The wind might blow youoff.”
“No, it’s got to be done to-day. We don’t want to attend the classmeeting this evening and have to get up and tell the fellows that wedid it and we’re awfully sorry, do we? We’d look like idiots! No, I’lltry it this afternoon, wind or no wind.”
“Well, look here,” exclaimed Paddy, “I was in this as much as you were,Wayne, and I’m stronger than you, and if anybody is going to climb thatpole it’s going to be me!”
“No, I put it up; it was my scheme,” answered Wayne stubbornly. “I’llget it down.”
Paddy’s remonstrances were of no avail, and the others at last gavetheir consent to the undertaking. Paddy promised to get the boat hook,and they agreed to meet at four o’clock and try to undo their work.
* * * * *
Paddy’s appearance at the flag pole armed with the boat hook andWayne’s advent there with a pair of climbing irons over his arm wassufficient to draw a crowd, and soon the vicinity was thronged withcurious watchers, who danced about in an endeavor to keep theirfeet warm or sought shelter from the cold blasts in the doorway ofAcademy Building. Dave and Don soon arrived, and the latter viewedwith apprehension the task ahead of his chum. Far up in the air thewhite banner bearing the ridiculous skull and crossbones fluttered andwhipped in the wind as though quite as much ashamed of its appearanceas were the boys, and resolved to put an end to its luckless careerwith every convulsive tug at its lashings.
“I do wish Wayne wouldn’t try to climb up there,” muttered Don inDave’s ear; but Dave was explaining the proceedings with great gusto to“Pigeon” Wallace, and so didn’t hear him. Wayne himself was strappingthe irons to his stout shoes, and Paddy, looking as though he wishedhimself well out of the whole affair, stood by with the boat hook, towhich a length of rope had been attached. Through the audience sped thestartling information of Wayne Gordon’s contemplated adventure, and amurmur of excited interest arose; and boys who had absent friends spedaway in search of them. As Wayne took his gloves off and put his footon the first of the spikes that rendered more or less easy the ascentof the lower pole a wholly impromptu cheer arose and gained in volumeuntil it resolved itself into a loud “’Rah--’rah--’rah, Gordon!”
Wayne paid no heed; he was already halfway up the great white-paintedmast
that terminated many feet above in a broad crosstree. It waseasy going, save for the wind and the fact that the climbing ironsinterfered when he laid his feet on the rests. But the crosstree wasquickly reached, and he pulled himself on to it, and clutching thetopmast with his left arm, with the other pulled up the boat hook bymeans of the rope, one end of which was tied around his waist. Thosebelow saw that after one fleeting downward glance he raised his eyesand did not again risk dizziness.
“Gee!” exclaimed Paddy, his head craned back as he gazed aloft. “Seehow the wind blows up there!”
“Is there any danger of the thing breaking?” asked Dave.
“Not a bit. It’s a nice new pine, and it’ll stand lots. But if Waynegets up there and loses his grip-- Say, I wish we hadn’t let him doit!” Paddy looked with troubled eyes into Don’s pale countenance.
“Here comes the whole blamed faculty!” cried Dave, and as the groupof boys turned to look Professor Wheeler, accompanied by “Turkey” andLongworth, pushed into the assemblage.
“Who is that up there?” the principal asked sternly.
“Wayne Gordon, sir,” answered a dozen voices.
“Gordon! _Gordon!_” The principal made a trumpet of his hands andshouted at the top of his lungs. “Come down at once!”
There was no answer from the figure on the crosstree. Possibly the windwas too strong to allow of the principal’s voice reaching him; possiblyWayne heard, but thought the command issued from one of the fellows.At all events his only response was to seize the slender topmast withhis arms, dig his climbing irons into the wood, and start upward. Theprincipal again shouted.
“Best let him alone, sir,” said Professor Durkee calmly. “I doubt if hecan hear; but if he can ’twill only bother him and make the task morehazardous.” The principal turned sternly to the throng about the pole.
“Did none of you know better than to let him do this? Is that youthere, Cunningham? I should have thought that you, for one, would havestopped him!”
There was no reply from the throng, and Don accepted the rebuke with amiserable countenance. It was Paddy who ventured a defense.
“He would go, sir. Nobody can stop Gordon when he makes up his mind,sir.” The principal’s only answer was a gesture of exasperation. Thenall eyes were turned upward again.
Wayne had reached a place where, because of the slenderness ofthe pole, his irons were of no further use. To take them off was adifficult task, but to keep them on rendered farther progress well-nighimpossible. So he drove the spike on his right foot deep into the mastand unbuckled his left iron and threw it far out beyond the edge of thecrowd below. Clinging to the pole with his legs and his left arm, hemanaged at last to undo the remaining iron and kick his foot free fromthe straps. Then he wound both legs about the mast, gripped it firmlywith his hands, and began to shin upward again. He wished that he hadleft his shoes at the crosstree, for his stockinged feet would havegripped the wood much closer. But it was too late to think of that. Thewind and the exertion had almost deprived him of breath, and now, ashe reached a point some twenty feet above the crosstree, the topmastbegan to get woefully slim and swayed sickeningly in the wind. Foran instant he stopped climbing and clung motionless. To the watchersbelow it seemed that he must be about to give up. The mast lookedscarcely larger round than one’s arm, and the boy’s figure, a dark atomagainst the sullen gray of the flying clouds, swayed from side to sideperilously.
But Wayne had no thought of giving up. He only paused a moment togather breath for further effort and then went on, his feet, legs,and arms gripping the rocking pole with all their strength. Onecircumstance aided him: the mast had been varnished but a few daysbefore, and presented to his hands a slightly sticky surface that madehis grip surer and easier. He feared but one thing, and that was alook downward. He strove with all his might against the irresistibletemptation to let his gaze drop for just a fraction of a second; heknew that if he yielded vertigo would master him. So far he had beensuccessful, but now, with his task almost accomplished, the goldenball but a few feet above him, something seemingly stronger than hiswill forced him to lower his head. He stopped climbing again and, withdespair at his heart, clung tightly to the swaying mast. His eyesdropped to the roof of the neighboring laboratories, to the ice-coveredwalk that led to Academy Building, to the edge of the throng!
A murmur of dismay and apprehension crept through the crowd. For amoment the March tempest was stilled, and in that moment, faint, and asthough from a great distance, came a cry from below:
“_Keep agoing, Old Virginia!_”
Wayne recognized Paddy’s deep voice. With a rush the blood drove backto the boy’s chilled heart. He gave a gasp, threw back his head, andfound himself staring at the golden ball, which, for the first time,seemed to beckon him upward. Arms and legs responded strongly to hisdemand, and inch by inch the remaining distance was won.
Some five feet from the swaying tip he again paused and gripped themast, now scarcely more than a rod, and again hauled up the boat hook.The skull and crossbones flared and snapped loudly and derisively.Taking a firm hold of the mast with his left hand, he reached forwardthe long shaft. The first effort drove the hook through a corner ofthe white cloth; the first tug freed it from the pulley block, andwith a rush the hook and flag came down. But Wayne was careful notto let the former drop. Holding it firmly, he started to descend,the flag following. And from the throng below broke a cheer that wasquickly hushed lest it confuse the boy. But the rest was simple and thecrosstree was quickly gained. The wind, as though angry at having beendeprived of its seeming prey, lashed and whirled at him as he droppedeasily and quickly from one foot rest to another. A few feet from theground the boy paused and detached the flag from the rope. Then hestepped down into the throng. A dozen pairs of arms were outstretchedto him and a rousing cheer went up. Don, pale and trembling, thrusthimself through the crowd roughly and threw one arm around hisshoulders.
“Wayne!” he whispered huskily.
Wayne smiled lightly back at him and pushed forward. He met a glance ofsly understanding from Professor Durkee’s little gray eyes and a nod ofapproval. Then the principal was speaking.
“That was bravely done, Gordon, and we owe you thanks. But don’t tryanything of the sort again.”
Wayne met the principal’s grave eyes and grinned.
“I won’t, sir. But nobody owes any thanks. You see, I put it up there!”
For the Honor of the School: A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport Page 16
