Deering of Deal; Or, The Spirit of the School

by Latta Griswold

  CHAPTER XI

  THE DISCOMFITURE OF DUCKY THORNTON

  Fifth Form year in a school like Deal usually marks a decided changein the boys; they have grown more mature, have become more serious invarious ways, have definitely put away—the most of them—the childishthings of school life, and are to be counted as standing for the mostpart on the side of the powers of law and order. They are used to theways of the place, are thoroughly imbued with the school spirit andtradition, and consciously aim at keeping themselves and their fellowsin the good old ways.

  Tony’s first year at Deal in the Third Form, as we have seen, hadbeen a varied one. After the exciting events of the Michaelmas andLent terms, his life had pursued a more even tenor of way. Chapin’sdetection and expulsion had served to reinstate Deering in theconfidence of both masters and boys, and his genial sunshiny nature waswinning for him a deserved popularity. He and Carroll, the latter nowa Sixth Former, though they no longer roomed together, were excellentfriends, but his real intimates were Kit Wilson and Jimmie Lawrence,the latter of whom shared his room in Standerland, while Kit lived buta few doors down the corridor. With Mr. Morris, the house master, hewas on very good terms indeed. He had made his place in the footballteam in Fourth Form year, and had played a good game but he had notdistinguished himself that year. Now again in the Michaelmas term ofthe Fifth Form year he was engaged in daily football practice, and wasagain looking forward to the exciting contest in November.

  It is scarcely necessary to say that Tony’s two friends had not takenhis declaration of making a friend of Finch very seriously, though theydecided with him in a good-natured way to protect the new boy from thethoughtless or ill-natured hazing he was like to get at the hands oflower formers.

  A night or so after Finch’s arrival at school, Reggie Carroll droppedin at Number Five Standerland to see his younger friends. Jimmie wasworking in the study, but Tony had turned in early. Reggie stuck hishead into the door of Deering’s bedroom and discovered its occupant,having got ready for bed, just about to turn off the light. “Come in,”said Tony, “and find something comfortable to sit down on—the bed willdo. Where are you wandering this time of night?”

  “Well, it is only nine o’clock,” said Reggie, “and as a matter of fact,I was wandering over to have a ‘jaw’ with you, as you sometimes sodelicately term a heart to heart talk.”

  “Well, fire away,” said Tony, but in tones that did not hint heexpected to find the conversation interesting. He was rather pensive,unwontedly silent, and looked out of his window over the dark fields.

  Reggie essayed several topics of conversation, but without muchsuccess. He was about to take his leave, when something in Tony’sexpression arrested his attention.

  “What on earth is the matter with you, boy?” he asked at last, as heplayfully grabbed Tony by the shoulder and began to maul him.

  “Let up!” cried Tony. “Can’t you see I’m thinking out the problems ofthe universe? You mess me all up and I don’t know where I’m at.”

  “Well, compose yourself, and let me offer you advice.”

  “Let up then, do! And consider the appropriateness of the figures ofspeech, as Gumshoe would say. Bill Morris has been darn white to me——”

  “Rather,” commented Reggie, with a smile, “we are all green with envyat his whiteness.”

  “Don’t interrupt; as I was trying to say, Mr. Morris has beenexceedingly white to me; so much so that I have often wondered how Imight show him I appreciate it. Well, the fact is, he has asked me todo something just lately that I don’t in the least want to do, and Idon’t see how in the deuce I am to get out of it.”

  “Knowing Morris,” commented Carroll, lazily, “I don’t in the leastfancy you are going to get out of it. He lays his plans too well. Whatdoes he want?”

  “Have you seen Finch, the new boy?”

  “Finch?—oh! the kid they call Pinch. Yes, boy, I have seen him; onelook was too much. It’s awful.” Then Reggie’s eyes lighted, and he gavean exclamation. “By Jove, I see it all—the whole thing—Bill wants youto be his guardian angel.”

  “Precisely,” said Tony, with an expression of infinite disgust.

  “And you, my child, fully mean to be.”

  “Hang it!” said Tony. “I suppose I do.”

  For a moment Carroll was silent and his expression changed from one ofgood-natured raillery to one of subtle sadness.

  “Poor little devil!” he said at last, “why not?” Tony looked at him tosee if he were joking. “Oh, I know I couldn’t do it,” Reggie went on.“I haven’t the knack or the grace, or whatever it is called. But oldBill is right; you have. Why, kiddo, the world’s a hell for a lot ofpeople just because the rest of us, who have had more of a chance, sittight and comfy and don’t care.”

  “I suppose it is,” said Tony grimly, “but to tell the truth, I hate tothink about such things—for a while yet, anyway.”

  “There is one thing to be said,” Carroll continued, without paying anyattention to Tony’s remark, “if you do it, do it from the bottom up.Make a good job of it.”

  “It’s sheer asininity,” protested Tony. “I can’t do it. Oh, Reggie, Ihate him! he’s a loathsome little reptile.”

  “Naturally he is that, or Bill would not be so extraordinary on thesubject. He doesn’t mess with our affairs very often, you know.”

  “Yes, I know,” Tony muttered.

  “Do you chance to know why the Head took him?”

  “Not really—some family obligation, I believe. The kid was left tohim by unspeakable parents who died of disgust at their work.”

  Carroll smiled. “Have you begun yet?” he asked.

  “No. I have sworn fifty times a day that I’d have nothing to do withit. And now I am going to get up this blessed minute and go in and havea talk with him. Talk to Jim a bit, and I’ll be back and tell you aboutit.”

  “All right,” said Carroll with a smile. Tony jumped out of bed, foldedhis blue wrapper about him tragically, struck a dramatic attitude, andstalked out of the room. Reggie joined Lawrence in the study.

  Half an hour later Tony returned.

  “How’s Pinch?” exclaimed Lawrence.

  “How did it go?” asked Carroll.

  Tony flopped down on a couch with an air of exhaustion. “Oh, so, so.I found him greasing on his confounded Virgil in a blue funk for fearI’d come to haze him. I made him read me twenty-five lines to give hima chance to recover himself, while I looked to see if I could find aredeeming feature. But Nature left that out. After a while I beganfiring questions at him, and when he gradually grew accustomed to theidea that I was only trying to be decent, he thawed a bit, and told mea little about himself. He’s had a tough time generally since he hadthe misfortune to come into the world at all. His father, who was anold college chum of the Doctor’s, seems to have turned out a sort of arotter. He did something or other that disgraced them, and then he diedand left that kid and his mother to face the music alone. She, poorwoman, didn’t last long, and then the Head stepped in, for old time’ssake, and out of mistaken kindness of his stupid old heart broughtFinch here.... All the spirit has been kicked out of him. He’ll do athis books—he read the Virgil pretty well—but he hasn’t the spunk toresent being kicked by a First Former. He seems to live in a perpetualterror of his own shadow. I suspect Ducky Thornton and his gang havebeen ragging him on the quiet, and if I catch that fat loafer at it,I promise you he’ll be sorry. I think I’ll give him a good kickingto-morrow on general principles.”

  “Do!” said Reggie, “that will be good for him in any case.... It mightbe well for you both to keep an eye on Ducky’s whereabouts in theafternoons. I have a notion that he skulks in the fives court till themaster of the day is out of the way, and then sneaks back into thehouse. I have seen him half-a-dozen times inside, and if I had been aprefect I should have kicked him out myself.”

  “Oh, hang being a prefect where kicking Ducky is concerned. To do thatwould be good for both our souls.”
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br />   Carroll laughed. “Well, at it, boy.” He said good-night then, and leftthem.

  The next day—a bright fair day in mid-November, only a few daysbefore the Boxford game, when the first team were laying off frompractice, Tony and Kit, instead of going out early for a walk withtheir team-mates, went into the fives court after dinner and began agame, keeping an eye, however, on the on-lookers. It rejoiced them tosee Thornton’s fat ill-natured face amongst a crowd of loafers on thebenches. The bell rang for call-over, and the boys ran out to reportto the master of the day, who was accustomed to take his stand atthe Gymnasium door. To-day Mr. Roylston happened to be on duty. Theroll call over, most of the boys went off to engage upon some form ofexercise or game for the afternoon; but a few lazy ones, disdaining theoccupations open to them, straggled back into the fives court to watchthe games going on there. Later they would swim in the tank, and thenstand for half-an-hour under a steaming hot shower, unless a vigilantmaster happened to catch them and send them about better things. Amongthese stragglers was Ducky Thornton.

  About half-an-hour later Mr. Roylston, beginning to make his rounds ofthe various houses—a customary duty of the master in charge—came intothe fives courts. He stood at the door, noting on his rollslip the boyswho were present. By this time only Tony and Kit were playing and somehalf-a-dozen smaller boys were squabbling on the benches. Tony glancedat the master, and saw beyond him, standing outside on the desertedtennis-courts, the forlorn Finch who looked about him in a bewilderedfashion as if he did not know what to do.

  As Mr. Roylston finished making his notes, he fixed Tony and Kit witha glare of unmitigated contempt. “The delight of doing nothing forsome boys,” he said in a sharp, jerky tone, “is only equalled by theirincapacity to do anything. Get out into the air, and take some manlyexercise, or I shall send the lot of you for a walk to the end of thepoint.”

  The younger boys sheepishly slipped out, the scowling Thornton amongstthem, who, Tony noticed, stopped outside and spoke to Finch for amoment. Suddenly he realized that Mr. Roylston was still speaking. “Oh,I beg your pardon, sir,” he said quickly. “I did not understand thatyou were speaking to us.”

  “If you would condescend occasionally, Deering,” said the master, “toabstract yourself from the depths of self-satisfaction into which youare habitually plunged, you would not make it necessary for me to takeyour inattention for mere bad manners.”

  Tony flushed, started to speak, bit his tongue, and kept silent. He metMr. Roylston’s glance unflinchingly. “Did you wish to say anything,sir?” he said at last, with tantalizing politeness.

  Mr. Roylston’s eyes turned aside from the cool but perfectly courteousgaze with which the boy regarded him. “Merely,” he added, as heturned away, “that I think you older boys—members of the first teamat that—set a very bad example by frowsing in the fives court on aglorious autumn afternoon like this.”

  “Why, it’s the first game we’ve played this year,” cried impulsive Kit.“It’s come to a pretty pass if Fifth Formers can’t play a game of fiveswithout being accused of setting a bad example.”

  “That will do, Wilson,” exclaimed Mr. Roylston sharply, facing themagain with an indignant glare in his eye. “You have not yet got overyour unpleasant habit of impertinence when occasion offers. Be goodenough, please, to leave the courts immediately.”

  Kit reached for his coat, and as he did so he flung the fives ballwith a vicious twist against the side of the courts, so that it bouncedback with a tremendous spring, and narrowly escaped collision with themaster’s head as he was passing through the doorway. But Mr. Roylston,having scored, as he thought, did not give them the satisfaction oflooking back. “Gosh!” exclaimed Kit, “I wish it had hit him.”

  “Wish it had!” said Tony. “Come on; time’s up anyway. Gumshoe’ll gothrough the Old School now, and we’ll have a look to see what hasbecome of Ducky.... I’ll wager Finch has sneaked back to his own room.He mopes there all free times, and has about fifty marks already fordoing it. If Ducky’s not there, we’ll send him out for a run. If Duckyis—well, kiddo—?”

  “Come on,” said Kit, significantly stuffing a long leathern strap intohis trousers pocket.

  They turned out of the courts. No one was in sight; the small boysunder the influence of Mr. Roylston’s “suggestions” had vanished; evenFinch, who had been annihilated by a sarcastic phrase as the masterpassed him, had crept somewhere to hide till it was time for afternoonschool. Tony and Kit watched Mr. Roylston until he disappeared into theOld School, then they started on a run for Standerland.

  “I’ll bet the brute has got Finch in his room. It’s just the time forit; besides Bill has gone over to the Woods with a lot of kids. Softly,Kit,” he said, as they pushed open the big doorway leading into themain hallway of Standerland House. They tiptoed cautiously upstairs,and when they got to the head, stopped to listen, holding their breath.

  “Sish! what’s that?” whispered Kit.

  They heard a clear long wail in a high shrill voice—“Pleaseeeee!”ending in a squeal, followed by a deeper guffah, and the sound of awhip’s lash.

  “Hurry!” said Tony. “We’ll make that bully sweat for this.” Quick as aflash he was at Finch’s door, trying the handle. It was locked; so hepounded vigorously. “Open up!” he called, “and the sooner the better.Open up, you fellows—do you hear?” There was a scuffle within; thensilence. Some one crossed the room rapidly, and opened the door. Itwas a Third Form boy by the name of Clausen—a surly bad-complexionedlad. His face showed white now through the ugly blotches. Tony and Kitstepped quickly within, and closed and locked the door behind them.

  Finch was sitting on the edge of the bed, whimpering. His coat andshirt were lying on the floor. Across his back were the welts ofseveral long lashes. Another boy—Dunstan, a Fourth Former, in bad odorwith the prefects, one of Thornton’s satellites—was by the window, asif he were on the point of jumping out. Fortunately the room was on thesecond storey of the building. No one else was in sight. Kit grabbedDunstan and flung him on the bed; but Tony, strangely cool, his eyesglittering, restrained him.

  “Wait, Wilson,” he said. “Take the key out of the door. Now, youDunstan, where is Thornton?”

  The boy did not answer. “Where’s Thornton?” repeated Tony, graspingDunstan by the neck and wringing it. “He’s here, I know; or he washere. He couldn’t get out. Here, Kit, tie this animal while I look inthe closets,” and he slung a bit of cord to his companion. They madeshort work of the Fourth Former, who indeed made scarcely any show ofresistance; and then, having slung him helpless on the bed, they beganto search for Thornton. As Kit opened the closet in Finch’s bedroom,Ducky darted out, and made for the hall door. But Tony was too quickfor him. He grasped him from behind, pinioned his arms behind his back,and dug his knees into Thornton’s hips. The fat boy went to the floorlike a log, and in a second Tony was kneeling over him with sharp kneesdigging into the soft flesh about his armpits. Kit gathered the boy’ssprawling feet together and tied them with a big muffler that he tookfrom Finch’s bureau.

  Finch himself, during the struggle, had stopped crying, and was nowputting on his shirt and coat. He had just begun to realize that thiswas a rescue, not a fresh attack upon himself.

  “Now, Finch,” said Tony, opening the door into the hall, “cut acrossto my room, and stay there until we come. Kit, take that little beastClausen, and kick him down stairs. We won’t bother any further withhim.” Kit executed this order with dispatch and thoroughness, andClausen thanked his stars that he had got off so easily. Having got ridof Finch and Clausen, they relocked the door. “Now, you big fat bully,”said Deering, “you are going to get it. Get up and pull off your coatand shirt.”

  As Thornton struggled to his feet—the operation was a clumsy one, ashis ankles were lashed close together,—he began volubly: “You bigbullies!” But he did not go far. “Here,” said Kit, “wash his mouthout, Tony.” And Tony washed it out with plenty of Castile soap andvery little water. “Now strip!�
�� said Tony. The bully slowly took offhis coat, and then his shirt. “It’s not a pretty sight, is it, Kit?”laughed Tony. “Nevertheless it will hurt as much as Finch’s back. Bendover.”

  “Please, please, let me off. ’Pon honor, I’ll never do it again—Iswear—I swear—please don’t lick me; please, _please_ don’tlick—ouch!” He suddenly collapsed with a squeal of anguish, as Tonybrought the leathern strap across his shoulders with an unmercifulswish. “You wouldn’t let Finch off when he blubbered, would you? Well,we won’t let you off. Ready? Coming.”

  “Ouch! ouch!!—oh, I swear—please—oh, you bullies, you—ouch! owhhh!”Then Kit stuffed a towel in his soap-suddy mouth and stilled the noise.When he had been well punished, they flung him on the bed, and let himhowl there while they administered a like thrashing to Dunstan. Hebore it a little more manfully, and consequently got off more easily.Suddenly they were all startled by a sharp knock on the door. “Gumshoe!by the great horn spoon!” exclaimed Kit. “Yes,” he called, “who is it?”

  “Open, open this door instantly,” came in the well-known tones of Mr.Ebenezer Roylston. “Open instantly, or I shall send for the servants tobreak it in.”

  “All right, sir,” called Kit, adding _sotto voce_, “It would be a jollygood stunt if we let him do it. Get on your coats,” he hissed at thetwo Fourth Formers. Instinct prompted them to quickness; but not quickenough to satisfy Mr. Roylston, for the order was repeated, and thehandle of the door rattled impatiently.

  Kit unlocked the door at last, and Mr. Roylston entered. “What is themeaning of this unseemly commotion? What are you doing with lockeddoors when you are supposed to be out? What is the meaning of thisstrap? Why are these two Fourth Formers here crying? There has beenbullying?”

  Kit laughed. “That’s about it,” he said. An angry flush suffusedMr. Roylston’s countenance, as he exaggerated Kit’s laugh intoimpertinence. “You are going too far, Wilson. I shall report you to theHead for bullying and gross impertinence. You also, Deering——”

  “You might as well take the trouble to find out what you are going toreport us for,” said Kit.

  “Shut up, Kit,” said Tony. “If you——”

  “Silence, Deering,” interrupted Mr. Roylston. “I am perfectly capableof rebuking a boy for insolence without your assistance. You, Thorntonand Dunstan, come with me. You, Deering and Wilson, go to your rooms,and wait there until you are sent for.”

  He waited until they had crossed the hall and gone into Tony’s room;then he took Thornton and Dunstan into Mr. Morris’s study at theend of the hall and was closeted with them for half an hour. Laterthe boys saw him leave Standerland House, cross the quadrangle anddisappear within the Old School. Then they sent Finch back to his room,reconnoitred, but found that Dunstan and Thornton had disappeared.

  An hour later there came a tap on their door. Kit opened it, andadmitted Mr. Roylston. The master took his place with his back towardthe window, and made them stand in the light before him. He cleared histhroat once or twice, as though he were at a loss quite how to begin.“I have made an investigation,” he said at last, “and have carefullythought over this afternoon’s affair.” He waited as if for a reply,but as the boys made none, he continued in a moment, a little moresharply and confidently. “I find that you are both guilty of the mostwanton cruelty to boys younger and smaller than yourselves; though, Iunderstand—they were singularly frank and direct with me—that you arenot without what you will probably pretend is justification. Thorntonadmits that he had been horsing Finch——”

  “Horsing Finch!” began Kit.

  “Silence, Wilson; if there is any occasion for either of you tospeak, pray, let Deering speak for you. I have endured about as muchof your impertinence to-day as I can well stand. You undertook topunish younger boys, and did so cruelly. In my opinion your conduct isindefensible. However, I shall take into consideration your mistakenmotives in the matter, and not report you to the Head, as I was atfirst convinced it was my duty to do. Doctor Forester is wont to dealseverely with bullying. Instead, I shall gate you for a month, andrequire you to do a thousand lines of Virgil apiece for me within thenext fortnight.”

  “Mr. Roylston,” Tony spoke up quickly, to prevent Kit from utteringthe ill-chosen words that he felt were on his lips. “You are probablymuch misinformed as to the facts, and if you will permit me to say so,with entire respect, you have not asked us a question. As for me, Iwould very much prefer that you referred the matter to the Head as yousuggested.”

  For once in his life Mr. Roylston was at loss for what to say. Helooked at Tony as though he could not believe the evidence of hissenses. He started to speak several times, and each time changed hismind. Finally, he said, “I think that I am competent to settle thismatter without troubling Doctor Forester. I warn you that refusal todo my impositions will result in the usual penalties. Deliberate andprolonged disobedience will subject you to suspension or expulsion.”

  “Very well, sir,” said Tony.

  Mr. Roylston turned thereupon, and with what dignity he could muster,walked out.

  “By Jove, Tony old boy, you got him. Bless you for keeping me fromblurting out. I’d have spoiled it all.”

  “Yes, kiddo, you certainly would. As a matter of fact, you have notbeen specially impertinent, considering the provocation; and what’sjolly well certain is that Gumshoe doesn’t want the matter to get tothe Head. He knows who’s to blame, but he has it in for us. Painfulperson, isn’t he? Virgil’ll rot before I do his thousand lines or payany attention to his gating. I wish he would take us to the Head. Well,I reckon Thornton will let Finch alone now. Let’s find Jimmie, and goand wash the blood off in the tank.”

  So saying, they locked arms, and went singing “Up above theschool-topp’d hill” down the corridor. They met Mr. Morris at the outerdoor of Standerland House. “Well, you seem to be particularly friskythis afternoon,” said he, “what’s up?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” laughed Kit; “we’re just two good pure innocenthappy schoolboys. Come on, magister; come for a dip with us in thetank.”

  “Well, wait a second, while I stow sweater and stick, and I’ll be withyou.”