Deering of Deal; Or, The Spirit of the School

by Latta Griswold

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE RESULT OF THE PROTEST

  When Finch, for he was the eavesdropper, crawled out of the bushesunder the window of the Masters’ common-room, he darted quickly,keeping within the shadow of the Old School wall, into a littleclump of trees beyond the terrace. He was stiff and sore from lyingmotionless so long and had got thoroughly chilled from the dampness ofthe ground. But his mind and soul were at fever heat.

  He had heard almost all of the conversation in the room above him, andhe was overwhelmed by the course of events. He felt much as a generalmust who receives the report of a spy informing him that the enemy haveaugmented forces with which he cannot hope to cope. Finch felt that hecould not endure the situation another minute. It had seemed that hemust shriek out more than once as Mr. Roylston had so calmly, with suchdeadly determination, built up his case against Deering. Finch felt hishero and himself the victims of an ignoble conspiracy.

  The boy had grown of late so accustomed to deceit, that for the timebeing he absolutely forgot how contemptible his own action had beenand how it would appear to others, to Tony. He was an Ishmael, andfelt himself justified in raising his hands against every one becauseall hands seemed raised against him. And his poor warped mind knewof no weapons except deceit, trickery, eavesdropping, with which tocope against the authority and success which were his enemies. But nowhe was thinking of but one thing—the position he so eagerly covetedfor Tony was threatened, and, thanks to the efforts of his inveterateenemy, was apt to be given to another.

  After pausing for a moment or so in the clump of bushes, in which togather together his shivering body, he slipped off, entered the OldSchool by a basement door, made a detour through the locker-rooms, andemerged again in the north quadrangle. He dashed across the campus andup the stairs of Standerland to the door of Number Five study, andknocked boldly, almost without knowing what he was going to say to Tony.

  Deering and Jimmie were within, with two or three other boys.Finch gave a frightened glance about, but for once he overcame hisself-consciousness enough to whisper at Deering, “Come over to my room,will you? I want to see you particularly for a few minutes.”

  Tony went to the door. “What is it?” he began.

  “Please come over,” Finch continued. “I have something important totell you.”

  Once in his own little room, Jake turned a white excited face to Tony,his shyness was gone, absorbed now by his passion of rage and anxiety.

  “Well, what the deuce is up?” asked Tony, smiling a little at his_protégé’s_ agitation.

  “A lot. There’s just been a faculty meeting. I have heard all aboutit—it doesn’t matter how—but all about it! and the Doctor put you upfor Head Prefect—and said all manner of fine things about you—allthe masters were there and they were all going to vote for you—whenRoylston—curse him!—got up and told about _The Spectacle_, and readthem that copy of it he stole from me, and when he got through he saidhe’d give up his job here if you were made Head Prefect—and there wasa lot of gas—and the Doctor broke up the meeting—and said he’d talkit over with Roylston. And then he went off. And I don’t know what’sgoing to happen.”

  “Here, here! what’s all this,” exclaimed Tony, as Finch paused forbreath. “You’re crazy, Jake. Somebody’s been telling you a fairy storyto get you excited.”

  “No, I am not crazy,” Jake replied. “I tell you I know all about it.”

  “Well, what the dickens is it? Say it over, will you?”

  Finch repeated, this time more accurately, all that he had overheard.“He’s trying to queer you,” he concluded, “that’s what! and he may doit, if we don’t do something.”

  “Jake, I say you are off your head. In the first place, I can’t imaginethe Gumshoe hating me quite hard enough for that, and, in the second,I’m blamed sure the thing has got twisted in being reported to you.”

  “It didn’t—I heard it—about it, I mean—I can’t tell you who told me.”

  “Well, I don’t take much stock in it,” said Tony, turning as if toleave. But Finch sprang forward, and put his hand on Tony’s arm.

  “I take a lot of stock in it, I tell you. If you don’t do something,you won’t get it.”

  Tony wheeled around, his face blazing with sudden anger, “What do youthink I could do? Do you suppose I’d turn my hand to get the thing?I’d cut it off first. I haven’t asked to be Head Prefect, and I don’tintend to ask to be, you poor fool.”

  Finch scarcely winced before Tony’s anger. And indeed it was gone asquickly as it came, almost before Deering had finished speaking.

  “Don’t you want the place?” Finch asked, with a kind of wail ofdisappointment.

  “Why, yes, of course, I _want_ it,” answered Tony, “but haven’t yougot sense enough to see, that it isn’t a thing a decent chap couldwork for, much less ask for? Did you think I’d go over to the Doctorand tell him that I think he had better appoint me and let the Gumshoego? I shouldn’t care very much if he did go, but,—who told you aboutthe meeting any way? I can’t see why you shouldn’t tell me. Was it afellow?”

  “No—”

  “A member of the faculty? not Bill? he wouldn’t tell a thing like that.”

  “No—I dunno.”

  “Yes, you do—did you promise——?”

  “No—I—I—happened to hear some of the faculty talking.”

  “Hear—where?”

  “On the campus.”

  “Overhear, you mean?”

  “Yes, I s’pose so.”

  “Where were the masters you heard talking?” Tony was putting hisquestions now rapidly and with intention, for he had become suddenlysuspicious.

  “In the common-room,” Finch answered, beginning to shake nervouslyagain.

  “Where were you?”

  “Outside.”

  “How could you hear all that outside? By Jove, man, you were under thewindow listening?” Tony’s voice took on a sharp note of contempt.

  Finch shook like an aspen leaf.

  “Answer me!” demanded Tony. “You weren’t _trying_ to hear, were you?”

  No reply. Poor Jake moistened his dry lips.

  “Pah!” exclaimed Deering. “So the fellows are right, are they? you area sneak?” He turned away in disgust, and started across the room. Hishand was on the knob of the door, when Finch threw himself in his way,and grasped him tightly again by the arm.

  “For God’s sake, Deering,” he cried in a queer cracked voice, “don’tthrow me over. You are the only friend I’ve got. Don’t throw me over. Idid it for your sake. God knows I did.”

  Tony stopped. He was appalled and bewildered by the passion in poorFinch’s voice and attitude. He turned back at last, and thrust Finch alittle roughly onto the couch. “Sit down there,” he said gruffly. “Iguess I’d better have it all out of you right now.”

  “Yes, yes, I’ll tell you everything,” whimpered Finch. “Don’t throw meover.”

  TONY WAS PUTTING HIS QUESTIONS NOW RAPIDLY AND WITHINTENTION FOR HE HAD BECOME SUSPICIOUS]

  “Shut up, and stop blubbering like a kid. I won’t throw you over. Butjust at present I’m mighty disgusted with you, I reckon you know.”

  Finch drew his coat sleeve across his eyes, and caught a sob or so inhis throat. “I’ll tell you everything,” he said, with a sniffle, “justwait a second.”

  “All right. And mind you do tell everything, if you ever want me totrust you an inch beyond my nose again,” answered Tony. He suspectedthere was a good deal to tell; in the last few moments a multitude oflittle incidents flashed into his mind; all were accounted for if Finch_was_ a sneak.

  “I know it was rotten, Deering,” began Finch, “but I couldn’t seem tohelp it.”

  “Now cut that sort of excuse out. Don’t try to defend it. Just tell thetruth, will you?”

  “Well, I was sitting in the library reading, and the Doctor passedthrough, and stopped a minute and spoke to me, and told me not to sayanything about the letter he wrote me las
t summer in which he hadmentioned you as the leader of the school. He said the appointmentwasn’t made yet.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s all, but I saw him go into the Masters’ room, and Iguessed they were going to have a meeting to discuss that very thing.It flashed into my head that something was up; that something had gonewrong about your getting it. I couldn’t help—I swear to you I couldn’thelp sneaking outside and trying to hear. The windows were up, andI could hear almost everything that was said inside. As I said, theDoctor——.”

  “I don’t want to hear anything more about that,” interrupted Tony,“I’m not an eavesdropper. I don’t give a continental darn what youheard. If I don’t get it—all right. If Roylston’s queered me, that’shis business, I guess. He may think he has a right to. Maybe he has.But just at present, what I am trying to make you see is that what wenton in the faculty room isn’t your business nor my business, and that tosneak and listen like that is low-down.”

  Finch, poor chap, did not fully understand what Tony was driving at.“All right, I guess it is,” he said, with a bewildered air, “but Ithought——”

  “I don’t care what you thought,” said Tony. “Do you see that was theact of a sneak? You called Roylston a sneak earlier this evening—well,whether he ever did a sneaky thing or not, you have just done one, see?”

  “Yes, I see, of course, I see; but——.”

  “Well, if you see, all right. Now there’s something else I want to getat. I want to know in what other ways you’ve been sneaky around school.Did you tell the Head that you had already told me about this letter?”

  “No.”

  “Did he ask you?”

  “No—not exactly—but I s’pose he thought I hadn’t from my manner.”

  “I see. Well let’s settle one or two other things, Jake. Remember thetime that Kit Wilson kicked you out of his room last spring?”

  “Yes.” Finch was whiter than ever.

  “Well, was it true—no, I mean, was Kit right—did you go there torough-house his room that night?”

  “Yes,” breathed Finch.

  “Had you been rough-housing his room and desk before, as he thinks youhad?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good heavens!” exclaimed Tony. “And you lied to me! You let me quarrelwith Kit, just because I thought you were innocent and that he had beenhard on you and unfair! You let me lose one of my very best friends,just because—by Jove, I don’t understand you. It’s too rotten bad.”

  “For God’s sake, Deering,” whimpered Finch, “don’t throw me over!” andthen sat, biting the tips of his fingers.

  Tony, wavering between anger, disgust and pity, could scarcely trusthimself to speak.

  At last he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth that night when Iasked you? Kit and I had already quarreled, but if I had known thenwhat you had done to him, we could——Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  “I was afraid you’d throw me over.”

  Tony shuddered with an uncontrollable feeling of repulsion. “Why didyou want to play such low tricks on Kit?”

  “I hated him.”

  “Why? Because he opposed your getting into the Dealonian?”

  “No, no, not that!” exclaimed Finch passionately. “I didn’t want to getinto the Dealonian.”

  “Then, why?” Tony was nonplussed.

  “Because he had broke with you.”

  At last to his humiliation—it dawned on Tony, the depth, the tragedy,of Finch’s affection; the complexity of his twisted, dwarfed nature;and anger and contempt were swallowed up in pity. He stood for a longtime before the miserable lad without speaking.

  “Well, Jake,” he said at length, “it is pretty bad—awful bad. I justhate to think of it.”

  “What can I do?” asked Finch piteously.

  “I don’t know what you can do. I want to think it all out before Italk with you any more. But if I were you I’d get down on my knees andask God to forgive me.” Tony again put his hand on the doorknob. “I amgoing. I have got to think it out. I reckon you can see that you havebeen the cause of a lot of trouble. Don’t worry about me, though. Iwon’t throw you over in the way you think I might. But I can’t talkabout it any more now. Good-night.”

  “Good-night,” said Finch, with a gulp.

  He sat for a long time on the edge of his couch with his face in hishands, staring blankly in front of him. The world upon which his soullooked out was as bare, as comfortless as his little room. He wasdumbly miserable. He knew he had hurt Deering, but just how, he couldnot see. The fear that possessed him chiefly was that Deering wouldthrow him over. “And I did it because of him,” he would say now andthen between his clenched teeth. He could not understand Tony’s horrorof the deceit, he could not fathom his unwillingness to take advantageof the information which he himself had risked so much to obtain. Heknew of course that he had done a wicked thing, but the wickednessseemed almost justified because the temptation had been so strong. Hewas sorriest about Wilson. As for the eavesdropping—when he thoughtof that, he clenched his fists. If Roylston were successful! I may bea sneak, he thought, but so is he. All was fair in war—and if Tonydidn’t get the Head Prefectship, whatever Tony might say or feel, warit should be. “I’ll show him,” he muttered, conjuring up the vision ofMr. Roylston reading _The Spectacle_ to his colleagues. “If he queersDeering, I’ll get even with him whatever happens!”

  When Tony returned to Number Five study he found that the boys hadleft and that Jimmie had gone to bed. He undressed slowly, trying tothink out the situation. Of course, he had misjudged Finch almost fromthe first, he realized that. The others were right. He was a difficultcase, too difficult for a place like Deal. He could not have believed,had he not heard it from the boy’s own lips, that he could stoop tosuch methods for revenge. But there it was! He had an actual situationto deal with; a living soul, just so tempted, so weak, so corruptedby misery, to help or hurt now by fresh judgments, which might beright or wrong. That he had been too generous before toward Finch, wasno reason, however, with Tony, even for a moment, why he should beungenerous now. He must do his best. He hoped Finch would be willingfor him to talk it all over with Mr. Morris.

  After a time, as he lay in bed, sleepless and still feverishlythinking, his attention wandered from Finch to his own case, to thefacts, that, much as he wished to close his mind to them, were verymuch there. It was hard to believe that Mr. Roylston was so bitterlyhostile, so absolutely unforgiving. His own conscience had long ceasedfrom troubling him about _The Spectacle_, and he wondered if the Headcould take Mr. Roylston’s point of view. He had forgiven himself inthat matter so completely, that he could hardly realize how it stillrankled with the offended master, how it might impress others. At lasthe fell asleep, quite assured that things would right themselves andconfident that on the morrow he would learn that he had been appointedHead Prefect.

  He saw Finch in the morning on the way to Chapel, and tried to greethim naturally. Finch seemed stolid, unresponsive, but not keenlyconscious, as Tony had supposed he would appear, of what had takenplace between them the night before.

  Finch had spent a sleepless night. But now he had set his teeth and waswaiting. He was staking his all, as it were, on the Head proving _fair_as he called it to himself. He was staking his reform, his remorse, hisrepentance on the issue which, beyond his control now by fair means orfoul, depended on the Head.

  The morning hymn was “I need Thee every hour,” and Finch joined init. He dumbly felt he was willing to bribe heaven to gain his end. Helooked about the Chapel, and noted that Mr. Roylston was not present,and his heart leaped with the thought that the master had lost hiscase, perhaps even, Finch passionately hoped, the Head had acceptedhis resignation. He tried, but he could not listen to the reading ofthe scriptures and the prayers. Then the Grace was said, and the boyswere settling back in their seats into attitudes of attention, for theDoctor was still at the reading-desk as if he had something to say tothem.

&nb
sp; “There is still”—the Doctor’s voice seemed to Finch to come froma great distance—“there is still an important appointment to beannounced. The Head Prefect for the year will be——”

  There was a slight disturbance in the back of the Chapel—some one haddropped a hymn-book, and the Doctor paused, it seemed to Finch for anintolerable age.

  “Edward Austin Clavering of the Sixth Form.”

  Immediately there was a little buzz; then the boys began pouring out ofthe Chapel. Finch sat still. Outside he heard Doc Thorn calling for acheer for Clavering. At last, he pulled himself together and went out.On the gravel walk boys were still congregated; he passed Tony who wasshaking hands at the moment with Ned Clavering. “I say, Jake; wait asecond!” Tony called, catching sight of him; but Finch, making no signthat he had heard, bent his head and hurried on.

  Jimmie Lawrence, however, was waiting for Tony until with good gracehe had finished his congratulations to Clavering. A good many, as theypoured out of the Chapel that morning, watched with curious interestthe meeting between the successful and the unsuccessful candidate. Butfrom Tony’s manner, the most critical could not have imagined a shadeof envy in his cordiality.

  “It is a downright shame!” exclaimed Jimmie, when at last Tony joinedhim. “It is an outrage. I can’t understand it—why—!”

  “Careful, Jim, careful. Deuce take it, I do feel a bit sore, but then Ireckon Ned Clavering has as good a right to it as I have.”

  “Perhaps he has, other things being equal; but they are not equal. Youwere nominated, the school wanted you, everybody expected you would getit: there is not a single reason why you shouldn’t have it.”

  “Perhaps there is,” protested Tony. “We’ve all been in scrapes now andthen. We weren’t always the angels we are now, Jim.”

  “Likely not, but I notice they didn’t hold up my ante-angelic daysagainst me. Why, you aren’t even a prefect, do you know it?”

  “By Jove, I’m not, am I?” exclaimed Deering. That fact until then hadnot occurred to him.

  “There’s something fishy behind it, mark my words. I wish we could findout what it is.”

  “Perhaps we shall,” said Tony. “But anyhow, I’m not going into a grouchover the affair.”

  “Nobody wants you to, but I wish you would show a little more sense ofthe rotten way you have been treated. By Jove, Tonio, I have it! it’sthe Gumshoe!”

  Tony found no answer to this exclamation, but Jimmie, excited by histheory, did not wait for one. “D’ye remember Reggie Carroll telling usthat the Gumshoe would get even?”

  “When?”

  “Why, after the show-up he got when you and Kit licked Ducky Thorntonand he took you two to the Head for breaking his gating. And also afterthe time Gumshoe soured on you about the Soft-toed Sammy billet-doux.”

  “Yes, I remember something of the sort. Perhaps he is responsible. Butanyway, kiddo, I’m dished, and that’s a fact.”

  “Oh, that Kit was one of us now, boy; wouldn’t we get even?”

  Tony sighed. “I reckon we would. But he isn’t!”

  “No, worse luck! I wish——”

  What Jimmie wished was left unsaid, for at that moment Doctor Forestercaught up with them, and called to Deering. “Will you please stop atthe Rectory, Anthony, for a few moments? I want a word with you.”

  “Certainly, sir,” said Tony and waited for the Head, as Jimmie, with a“So long,” hurried on to a first hour recitation.

  The Doctor was very cordial in his manner to Tony, and waved him to acomfortable chair in his study before he opened his conversation.

  “I dare say,” he began, “that you, as were others, were somewhatsurprised to learn who is to be Head Prefect this year.”

  Tony flushed and looked uncomfortable.

  “I do not mean,” went on the Head quickly, “to suggest that you had nooccasion for surprise. It is an open secret, I fancy, that you wereslated for the position.”

  “Of course,” said Tony, with some embarrassment, “I had some reason tosuppose that I was being considered.”

  “More than that, I am frank to say,” continued the Doctor, “I hadquite determined on your appointment. I wish you to understand that Ichanged my mind strictly with the understanding that the reasons forthe change should be thoroughly explained to you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I wish you to know that there is but one reason why I have not chosenyou for Head of the School. The mild or mischievous infractions ofdiscipline in your younger days, I do not take into account. You wereconcerned, I have learned, in fact, you were the author of a squib inwhich one of the senior masters was held up to ridicule.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now,” continued the Head, finding it a little hard to word his phrasesexactly, “I agree with Mr. Roylston, the master so caricatured, thatthat was most reprehensible. I do not suppose you have any defense forit.”

  “None, sir. I can only say, while I now see how it was calculated to betaken as an insult, I did it simply for fun.”

  “Precisely. It was not a matter that I myself, taking all things intoconsideration, should have regarded as a capital crime, but it hascaused deep offense to the master involved and he has not seen his wayto forgetting or perhaps even to forgiving it. In fact, because of it,he has protested emphatically against your appointment.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I repeat, I should myself have overlooked such an offense—I shouldhave accepted your apology in the spirit in which I think it was given.But as Mr. Roylston is unwilling to do so, I do not feel that I shouldbe justified in overruling his protest. The same reason disqualifiedyou as a prefect.”

  Tony was silent.

  “I need not point out to you,” the Doctor continued, “that while Ibelieve Mr. Roylston is severe, that I do not think he is acting withany conscious injustice.”

  “No, sir. I recognize his right to protest against my appointment. Ihave not complained of your decision, sir.”

  “No, I know that you have not. I felt it due to you that you shouldunderstand perfectly what interfered with your appointment. I know alsothat I can count on you for as loyal help as though you were a prefect.”

  “Thank you very much for what you have said to me, Doctor Forester. Iappreciate it. I am very sorry that I hurt Mr. Roylston in the way Idid. Of course—I don’t say this as a defense for writing what I did—Idid not mean it to come under his eyes. I apologized sincerely, andthough I know that Mr. Roylston did not believe in my sincerity, I cansee perhaps that it was difficult for him to do so. As for my beingloyal, I can’t see that this makes the slightest difference one way orthe other. I should like to have been Head Prefect, but I should neverhave thought of being chosen except for my election as president of theDealonian and my nomination by last year’s prefects. I think Claveringwill make a fine Head of the School.”

  “I trust,” said Doctor Forester, “that you will not bear ill-willtoward Mr. Roylston. He is acting from conscientious motives, I amsure.”

  “I shall try not to, sir.”

  With that Tony rose, shook hands with the Head Master, and took hisleave.

  Doctor Forester watched him as he walked across the campus, at a briskpace, head up, shoulders back. “There,” he said, turning to his wifewho had just slipped into the room, “there goes a rare boy, my dear. Hehas made it harder for me to do my duty than any one I have ever known.”

  “Tony Deering make it hard for anyone to do his duty! Why, my dear,did you not appoint him Head Prefect? Every one wanted him; every oneexpected that he would be.”

  “All but one of us, dear, who had a strong, if not a fine reason,for objecting to him; but I would rather not go into it, if you donot mind. Mark my words, that boy now is the strongest boy in theschool—all the stronger for not having the position he ought to have.”

  Mrs. Forester smiled. “That is a comfort, at least, to know. But I tellyou, Henry, if we women had the appointment to make, it would take morethan one strong r
eason to prevent our giving Tony Deering anything heought to have.”

  “Well, it is fortunate then, my dear, that you women have other thingsto do.”