by Frank Cobb
CHAPTER VII
With a bitter feeling of disappointment and shame, Frank took theproffered twenty-five dollars, after a long wrangle had convinced himthat there was positively no more to be wrung from the pawnshop man. Heleft the shop with dragging feet, half inclined to go back and throwdown the money with a demand for his watch. But the thought of Jardindeterred him. As he went out he could see the man leaning into thewindow where he rearranged the group of watches already displayed there,and placed the watch, Frank's beautiful watch, in the place of honor ona purple velvet cushion in the center.
Two weeks passed, and one day remained before the boys were to start toschool. Frank finally heard from Horace Jardin. Horace urged him againto collect what he termed a "_wad_," assuring him that life would bereally terrible without a lot of money. Also he hinted darkly ofsomething very surprising that he would have to tell later. That it onlyconcerned Jardin himself Frank did not question, as Jardin was neverinterested in anything concerning other people except as it had somebearing on himself in one way or another.
Money--money! Frank thought of nothing else. Then, as though it had beena terrible unseen monster waiting to spring on the boy, his temptationleaped upon him.
Temptation only attacks the weak. If we allow ourselves to harborunworthy or wicked thoughts, if we pave the way with wicked and unworthydeeds, temptation has an easy time. Temptation is like a big bully. Hedoes not like to be laughed off, or to be scorned. He prefers to beparleyed with. Then there is always a good chance for him. Better still,he prefers to dash up to the weak and sinning, and say hurriedly, "Here:quick, quick! Here's the easy way out! It's the _only_ way out! Just youtell this lie, disobey your parents, or take this money. It isn'tstealing, you know, because you mean to put it back as soon as you canand everything will be all right."
That is the way temptation talks, and on that last day before the boysstarted off to school Frank listened.
He was over at Bill's quarters, in B2, when the telephone rang. Nowthere are just two telephones to each building at the School of Fire,one upstairs and one down. They are wall phones, fastened on the outsideof the buildings, midway of the porch that runs the whole length. Whenthe bell rings, whoever is nearest answers and calls the person who iswanted. So Frank, standing in Bill's doorway and close to the phone,stepped out and took down the receiver. While he waited for an answer,he leaned his elbow on the sill of the window beside him and idlyscanned the confusion of papers on the big desk shoved close to the sillinside. A strong wind fluttered the papers.
Frank, waiting on a dead line, stared at the desk and his eyes grewwild. Down at the end of the porch a grey-haired Colonel sat with hiseyes glued to the _Army and Navy Journal_. He was reading about aproposed increase in pay, and he had no interest in small boys. Acrossthe sandy space on the porch of the opposite quarters two ladies satembroidering.
In the Sherman quarters, he could hear Mrs. Sherman and Bill and Leetalking as they finished packing Bill's trunk.
No one noticed Frank. No one saw what he did next, so stealthily andrapidly. But in a moment he put the receiver down on the shelf, hurriedto the Shermans' door, and called for Lee.
"Someone wants you on the phone," Frank said, and as Lee hurried out,Frank sat down on the door sill and whistled shrilly to the Shermans'Airdale, who was trying to chum with the pretty ladies across the way.They looked up, saw Lee at the phone but did not see Frank who haddodged inside the door. The Colonel looked up from his paper, scowling.He laid the whistle to Lee and glared.
Lee called "Hello!" half a dozen times. He too leaned on the sill of theopen window. No one answering the phone, he hung up and went back to thepacking.
And the next morning, Bill and Frank, feeling fearfully overdressed innew suits, and bearing spotless shiny yellow suitcases, stood on thetrain waving to two rather damp looking mothers and two fathers whostood up almost _too_ straight, and started away on their long journey.
Lee did not wave at them. The half of Lee that was Indian was afraidthat the half that was white would look too sorry and lonesome if hestood on the platform watching the two small figures waving on the trainwhile a friendly porter clutched a shoulder of each. So Lee stayed inthe machine and listened as the train pulled out, and felt very blue andlonesome, and fell to planning how he would ask for a furlough and goshoot some wildcats to make rugs for Bill's room. And he wondered howsoon the boys would look inside their suitcases. Lee had opened boththose suitcases!
The boys, wildly excited over the charm and novelty of travelling alone,went to their seats and gravely studied the flat bleakness of Oklahoma.As yet they had no regrets at leaving the Post, although Bill feltrather low whenever he thought of his mother. Her picture, as radiantand lovely as any of the girls who came visiting on the Post, he hadpasted on the dial of his wrist watch, the Major helping. They had hadlots of fun doing it, the Major pretending to be awfully jealous. Butwhen the picture was fastened safely on the dial, it was the Major, whowas something of an artist, who got out his color-kit and delicatelytinted the lovely features until the cut-out snapshot looked rare andlovely as a portrait painted right on the watch. Then he carefullyfastened the crystal, and Frank slipped it on his wrist, more thanpleased.
"In old times," said the Major, washing his brushes in the tumbler ofwater, "the knights always wore a ribbon or a glove belonging to thelady they loved the best. They did not hide their keepsakes in theirinside pockets but bound them boldly on their helmets, to remindthemselves that they must be loyal, faithful, fearless, brave and truefor her sake, and to show all who cared to look that they were proud todo their best for one so fair. No doubt there were dark days and hardtimes when they needed every ounce of support and encouragement theycould get.
"You will find it so, old man. I can't help you, but," he gently touchedthe watch, "_she_ will, always. You know it, don't you?"
"Yes, sir, I do!" said Bill, looking down on the smiling face.
"Then you don't need another word from me, son," said the Major. Theywere alone. He bent and kissed the boy on the cheek. Then he smiled.
"That is allowable between men, you know, son, on the eve of battle. Putup a good fight." He left the room, and something that was part promiseand part prayer went up from his soul.
"I _will_ put up a good fight!" he whispered.
Frank had spent his last evening alone, a throng of distressful thoughtscrowding in on him. His father was on some official business in town andhis mother had not thought it necessary to break her weekly engagementwith her bridge club. Frank wandered over to the hangars but he missedLem and Chauncey and soon returned home. He was greatly excited over thecoming trip, and had other and most serious reasons for wishing to goaway. So many unpleasant thoughts crowded upon him that it was not untilten o'clock that he happened to think of his watch, still in Lawton atthe pawnshop. He had not redeemed it, and the twenty-five dollarsreposed in the bottom of his kit bag, in an envelope that had threadwound around it.
He reflected that he could send the money and his ticket back to thepawnshop man, for it was too late to take the trip to town. His parentswere apt to return at any time. They did not come very soon, however,and Frank went to bed, a lonely, unhappy and sinning boy.
The boys had so much to look at that for awhile they were quite silent.Then Bill remembered something.
"Say!" he suddenly exclaimed. "We are having the deuce of a time at theschool. Right in our quarters, too. Did you hear?"
"No," said Frank, still staring out. "What was it?"
"Somebody stole six hundred dollars from Captain Jennings next door tous. It was money he had to pay the Battery, and it is gone. There is anawful fuss about it."
"Will they arrest him?" asked Frank.
"Why, no; they won't do that, of course. He didn't steal it from_himself_, and Dad says he has money besides what he gets as captain,but I don't suppose he likes the idea of making it good. There is goingto be an _awful_ fuss about it."
"Did he lose it out of his
pocket?" asked Frank.
"No; that's the funny part," said Bill. "He had it on his desk in hisstudy, under a paperweight, in an envelope, and that's the last he eversaw of it. Oh, there will be an _awful_ fuss over it! Whoever took itwill go to Leavenworth for so many years that he will have a good chanceto be sorry about it. It is an awful thing."
"Do they suspect anyone?" asked Frank.
"I didn't hear anything this morning," said Bill. "We left too early.But there will be an awful fuss. Why, it is an _awful_ thing, you know.I didn't know there was anyone over there low enough to steal. It makesme feel kind of queer!"
