by Charles King
CHAPTER VII.
Forty-eight hours passed without a trace of George Lawton, and they werethe saddest two days the First Latin ever knew. "All the life went outof the school with Snipe," was the way Joy expressed it, though nofellow in the whole establishment was credited with more mischief thanthe speaker. Lessons and recitations, despite the best efforts of Halseyand Beach and the lamb-like bleatings of Meeker, seemed to fall flat.Even the leaders went through with them in a style more dead than alive,and at every sound upon the stairs all eyes would be fixed on thedoorway and matters would come to a stand-still in the class. It wasplain that every boy was thinking only of the missing comrade andpraying for tidings of him. The masters, too, were weighed down withapprehension--or something. Othello's dark face wore a yellowish hue,and Meeker looked the picture of nervous woe. His complexion, alwayspallid, now seemed ashen, and he started at every sudden sound. Thursdaywent by without a word of any kind of news. The class huddled togetherat recess, taking no notice whatever of Hoover, who skulked away for hissmoke, followed by many unloving eyes but without audible comment, forShorty had conveyed Pop's dictum to the class, and when Pop took hisboys into his confidence, as, through some one or two of their number hesometimes did, and told them thus and so, there was no question. Thatclass at least observed his wishes to the letter. Hoover had been toldto return to school and no questions asked, and the First Latin wasvirtually pledged to the arrangement.
"_Aut impendere viam, aut poscere causas._"
But a wretched-looking Hoover it was that emerged from the Doctor'scloset at two that afternoon and slunk back to the accustomed place atthe foot of the room. Even Briggs had steered clear of him, and everyone noted how Briggs flitted about from group to group during recess,his old-time "cheek" apparently vanished, his effrontery replaced bynervous appeal. He had seized on Shorty, as the boys turned out forrecess, with eager question about Snipe, but the youngster impatientlyshook him off and shot away, light of foot as he was heavy of heart, andthe eyes of the others followed him as he turned into Twenty-fourthStreet, for all seemed to know he was using his half-hour to speed tothe Lawrences' for news of Snipe. Before the bell recalled them he wasback, mournfully shaking his head, and they trooped up-stairs,low-voiced and disconsolate, Hoover slinking in alone, last of all, hishands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched, his eyes flitting nervouslyabout. All through the half-hour the talk had been as to the possiblecause of Snipe's mysterious withdrawal from the school and later andmore mysterious disappearance. Everybody felt that John, the janitor,could tell something, even if it were only a lie--or a pack of lies, forJohn's veracity was a thing held up to scorn at the end of a hair. ButJohn kept under the wing of some teacher and could not and would not beapproached, and John looked white and scared. The Doctor came at theusual time, made the usual impressive pause at the doorway, pointed, asusual, to the usual foot of the class, who blinked and shifted rathermore than ever. Then Pop removed his hat and strode with his usualdeliberation to the closet, hung it on its peg, produced his gold-rimmedspectacles, and, as usual, wiped the glasses with his spotless cambrichandkerchief as he looked over the notes and letters on his desk, whilein subdued, half-hearted way the recitation went on. Then, with only aglance along the line of young faces, all studying him and noneregarding Halsey, who at the moment had little Beekman on the rack, hesignalled to Shorty, and the boy sprang to his side.
"Hear anything?" he asked, in undertone, as though he needed not to betold that Shorty had gone to inquire.
"No news, sir," said Loquax, with lips that twitched alarmingly. "Mrs.Lawrence will be here right after school."
"Then you stay. I may need you," said the Doctor, and pointed to thebench.
Five minutes later, after rapidly reading the brief missives on hisdesk, the Doctor arose, signalled to Hoover, ushered him into thelead-colored closet, followed and shut the door, from which quarter ofan hour later Hoover emerged, as has been said, looking limp andwoe-begone, and the moment school was over slunk away homeward without aword. By this time the First Latin was half mad with mingled curiosityand concern, when an elegantly dressed woman, followed by a manservantwith a compact little parcel under his arm, appeared at the FourthAvenue entrance, where the group still lingered, waiting for Shorty, andthe whisper went round that it was Mrs. Lawrence, Snipe's aunt. Theexcitement rose to fever heat. Doremus and Satterlee, scouting about theavenue an hour later, declared that she had been crying when she cameforth again and walked away to Twenty-fourth Street. Friday came. Shortywas ten minutes late at first recitation and failed in every lesson, yetnot a word of rebuke came from any one of the masters. Halsey merelyinclined his dark head, and with a tinge of sympathy in his tone,wherein they had long known only cutting sarcasm or stern admonition,said, "Never mind going further to-day." At recess, again, the boybounded away to the Lawrences' and came back five minutes late, withface as hopeless as before, but he bore a note, which he laid upon theDoctor's desk, and without a word accepted the "ten marks off" for hisdelay, which at any other time would have caused a storm of protest. Poparrived three minutes ahead of time, saw at a glance that little Pythiaswas down near the foot of the class, and made not the faintest allusionto it. He had barely taken his seat and looked over the two or threenotes when a heavy tread was heard upon the stair, and despite Halsey'sefforts the recitation hung fire, and every boy stared as a tall,grim-visaged, angular man of middle age stepped within the door, and inanother moment was clasping hands with the Doctor, who left his dais togreet him. There was a brief, low-toned exchange of words, then Halseyand the new-comer caught each other's eye, despite the former's effortto stick to his work, and, faintly flushing, Halsey arose, and they tooshook hands.
"How have they done to-day, Mr. Halsey?" promptly queried the Doctor;and as nobody had done well or behaved ill, Halsey hesitated. He couldnot dissemble. Pop saw the hitch and cut the Gordian knot.
"Gentlemen of the First Latin," he said, "the school is honored by avisit from one of Columbia's most distinguished alumni. Shall we givehim an exhibition performance in the Anabasis or--take half holiday?"
The class would rather stay but not exhibit; and so in five minutes thedecks are clear, and, next to Beekman, the shortest boy in the highestclass is being presented to the tall graduate. Before the name wasmentioned he knew that it must be Lawton's step-father, Mr. Park.
First there has to be another conference of some ten minutes' durationbetween the Doctor and his visitor, who had taken the youngster's handand looked down into his anxious face with solemn, speculative eyes andwithout the ghost of a smile. Shorty feels his soul welling up inmightier sympathy with Snipe. There is not a thing in Park's manner toinvite a boy's trust or confidence. Then the two turn to Shorty, and heis summoned to rejoin them.
"The Doctor tells me you have been my--er--young Lawton's most intimatefriend,--that most of his hours out of school have been spent with you.I had heard as much before through his mother and his aunt, whom Ibelieve you know,--Mrs. Lawrence."
The boy looks up, unspeaking, his blue eyes clouded. It needs but faintencouragement, as a rule, to relax his tongue; but neither in word normanner does he find encouragement here. He looks, and his gaze isfearless, if not a little defiant, but he answers never a word.
"What I wish to know is something of your haunts, occupations, etc. Wesupposed that when in your company and in the home of such eminentpersons as your grandparents our boy would be safe."
Shorty reddens. Many a time when Snipe would have studied he has coaxedhim out for a run afar down-town, a visit to some bell tower or somefamous fire company, where they were never without kindly welcome.
"I gather," continues Park, "from what has been told me at his aunt's,that your associates were not always of the better class of boys."
Shorty turns redder still. Many a time when he would have been glad tospend an evening at the home of Joy or Beekman, Doremus or Satterlee,Snipe had held back. "You go," he said: "I'll stay here and read," andit was
n't long before Shorty fully understood the reason. Snipe couldnot bear to go in such shabby attire, but he had no better, and couldget none without importuning his mother. No one in the houses of thefire department looked or said critical things about his clothes. Snipewas just as welcome as Shorty, and the rough fellows of the red shirtsseemed to enjoy explaining everything about the different styles ofengines and all the intricacies of their running rules to the brown-eyedboy, who seemed to ponder over what he was told and to remembereverything. And so it had resulted that whenever a cold or rainySaturday came round and they couldn't play ball, big Damon and littlePythias had spent many an hour going from one engine-or hose-house toanother, studying the different "machines," learning to know the foremenor leaders of the rival companies, and often climbing to the tallperches of the bell towers and gazing out through the watcher's longglass over the far-spreading city, the smoky shores of Jersey or LongIsland, the thicket of masts bordering the rivers, and the distantglimmering bay. It was all of vivid interest. True, they heard languagethat was eminently unclassical. They penetrated into sections of thegreat city where the fashionable garments of their wealthier schoolmateswould have become the target for the satire of the saloons and themissiles of the street Arabs. They saw and heard all manner of things atwhich Aunt Lawrence would have shrunk in dismay, and concerning whichShorty's own people were sometimes apprehensive. But as neither boycared to imitate the language or the manners thus discovered, it washeld that no great harm resulted. That they might have been far betteremployed every right-thinking moralist will doubtless declare, and thatthey would have been better employed even Snipe, down in the bottom ofhis heart, would have admitted--but for his clothes. It is astonishinghow much one's garb has to do with one's goodness, even amongschool-boys.
And all this was passing through Shorty's mind as the steely blue eyesof Mr. Park were searching his flushing face, and more things, too. Withall her ambition and moderate wealth, Mrs. Lawrence occupied a socialposition just a plane below that on which moved Shorty's kith and kin.Beautiful old homes on the lower avenue and around Washington Squarewhere they were welcome knew not Mrs. Lawrence. She had encouraged,unquestioning, Snipe's growing intimacy with his little friend, becauseit "brought the families together," as she once gushingly explained toShorty's favorite aunt, and, as she confided to her husband, might leadto even more. Much, therefore, did she question Snipe as to what tookplace at table, in the parlor and music-room of the big household inFourteenth Street, and, in the engrossing interest she felt in thedoings of certain of its elder inmates, lost all thought of those of theboys themselves. Not until within the past few days had she beenrequired to give an account of her stewardship, and now the butler'srevelations, gathered mainly, as he stated, from market conferences withthe magnate who presided over the board at Shorty's, had filled her withdismay.
"Them boys, ma'am," was that dignitary's comprehensive summing up, "dobe seeing the worst society in New York, 'stead of rejoicin' in thebest--with their relatives."
"You do not answer," at last says Park. "Could you find no better way ofspending your play hours than going around among low firemen?"
"We spent 'em at base ball when the weather was good," says Shorty,shortly, and there is glowing temper in the tone which the Doctor knowsof old, and he sees it is time to interpose.
"I have never said anything to you about this, my young friend," sayshe, "because I found that your relatives knew all about it, and thoughtyou capable of keeping out of trouble; but I did not know Lawton was sooften with you. What Mr. Park wishes to know is why you spent so muchtime among the firemen and so little among your classmates?"
Shorty turns to the Doctor fearlessly. Him he knows and trusts. Twicefor boyish misdemeanors has the great teacher bidden him take his booksand leave the school, and both times has he reinstated him, as he hadothers, within twelve hours. "I don't care for these Sammy-go-softlyboys," he had confided to Shorty. "I don't mind a little fun, but itmust not take the form of impertinence to teachers or disobedience oftheir orders. If they are unjust, I'll straighten it out myself, butdon't you try." Like most of the boys in the First Latin, Shorty knowshe has the Doctor's sympathy and friendship, and so the answer comespat. "The reason was because he had no money and was ashamed of hisclothes."
Mr. Park is severely judicial. School-boy impetuosity must not bepermitted to ruffle him. With great dignity he begins,--
"I do not approve of young lads having unlimited pocket-money orfashionable clothes, much less so in the case of a lad who must make hisown way in the world, as George will have to do."
"That's what Snipe said," was Shorty's quick reply. "Most of the classhave both, however; and as he had neither and I only a little, wecouldn't keep up with the crowd, so we spent our time together."
"I am amazed that your grandparents should approve of such perniciousassociation for so young a lad as you," says Park, shifting the point ofattack, for he feels that a revelation is imminent, and doesn't care tohave the rector know how little he gave and how much he demanded. But itis bad fencing, for Shorty "disengages" with equal skill and followswith a palpable hit. Ignoring Park's comment, he faces the Doctor again.
"You know, sir, that there isn't another boy in the class has to get hisboots and gloves and pay his way on fifty cents a week." And Pop,inwardly convulsed, feels compelled to reprove.
"Tut, tut!" he says. "These are matters for parents and guardians tosettle. Little boys must hold their tongues." And when Pop means to beespecially crushing he "little boys" the First Latin.
"Any proper and necessary expense incurred by George would have beenpromptly allowed," says Park, loftily, "had he seen fit to confide in meor in his mother."
"He _couldn't_ tell his mother, even when he was nearly barefoot,"blurts out Shorty. "She wrote him last year she'd rather sell her watchthan ask you for money for him!" And now Park, too, reddens, for herealizes that the statement is probably true. Hastily he returns to thecharge. This boy knows and talks too much. It isn't safe to allow himthe floor. Pop turns away, with evidences of earthquake-likedisturbances underneath that silken waistcoat.
"Then this is the excuse," says Park, severely, "for his resorting topawnbrokers--with stolen property."
And Shorty bursts out indignantly, "He never stole a thing, or sold iteither!" And now his eyes look pleadingly to the Doctor as though tosay, "You know this can't be so! Why do you let him lie?"
And as though to answer the appeal and come to the rescue of a malignedand beloved pupil, Pop turns instantly, every sign of merriment gone.
"Surely you are misinformed, Park," he says. "There was nothing but somelast year's books and his father's old shotgun. He told us everything."
"He didn't tell you everything," answers Park, with emphasis. "How muchof this is due to evil associations you can judge better than I; butlook here," and from a bulging pocket of his overcoat he produces apackage wrapped in a red silk handkerchief. A minute later and he laysupon the desk Seymour's handsome gold pencil-case, an old-fashionedwatch and chain, such as women wore twenty years earlier, and somecameo earrings, with breastpin to match. "These," says he, solemnly,"were recovered this morning. They represent only a small portion ofwhat his aunt, his benefactress, has found to be missing from her box ofdisused trinkets and heirlooms. The boy was shrewd enough to confine hisstealings to things that wouldn't have been missed for weeks or months,perhaps, had not a faithful domestic's suspicions been aroused. Thiswill be a sore blow to his poor mother. It has almost prostrated hisaunt, and I dare say we don't begin to know the worst. Has nothing beenmissed by his classmates here at school?"
There are beads of sweat on the Doctor's pale forehead as he turns away,Joy's watch instantly occurring to him. As for Shorty, in distress andconsternation, mingled with vehement unbelief, for once in his life heis dumb.
