by Morgan Scott
CHAPTER V.
ONE MORE CHANCE.
Although he was certain he would be compelled to undergo an unpleasantordeal at school the following day, he did not falter or hesitate. Withdetermination in his heart, and his face grimly set, he turned in atthe gate shortly after the ringing of the first bell, and walked up thepath.
Several boys in a group near the academy steps saw him approaching. Hedistinctly heard one of them say, “Here he comes now”; and then a hushfell upon them as they watched him draw near. In spite of himself, hecould not refrain from giving them a resentful and defiant glance. Inreturn they looked on him in silent scorn, and he felt that not one ofthem held an atom of sympathy in his heart.
In the coat-room, where he went to hang his hat, he found Roger Eliot,who saw him, but did not speak. Ben’s lips parted, but Roger’s mannerchilled him to silence, and he said nothing.
Bernard Hayden looked in. “Hey, Roger,” he called. “I want to see you amoment.” Then his eyes fell on Ben, and his proud lips curled a bit.
“All right, Bern,” said Eliot, walking out. Hayden took his arm, andthey turned toward the outer door, talking in low tones.
As Ben entered the big lower room, a little gathering of girls justinside the door suddenly stopped chattering, looked at him in afrightened way, and hastily drew aside, one or two of them uttering lowexclamations. His freckled face flushed, but it suddenly grew white ashe saw a tall, spare man, who was talking earnestly with ProfessorRichardson, near the latter’s desk.
The tall man was Lemuel Hayden, and Ben knew what had brought him tothe academy that morning.
The principal saw Ben come in, and said something that caused Mr.Hayden to turn and look toward the unfortunate boy, who, chilled andapprehensive, was seeking his seat. Ben felt those cold gray eyes uponhim, and suddenly his soul seemed to quiver with anger. A sense ofinjustice and wrong seized him, filling him with a desire to confronthis enemies and defend himself as best he could.
“No use!” an inward voice seemed to whisper. “They are too powerful.Who will believe your word against that of Lemuel Hayden?”
Mr. Hayden was a man who had placed fifty years of his life behind him,and his appearance and manner seemed to indicate that during thegreater number of those years his stern will had dominated the acts andenforced the obedience of nearly every one who chance to have dealingswith him. His shaved upper lip exposed a firm, hard, almost cruel,mouth. His carefully trimmed whiskers, like his hair, were liberallybesprinkled with gray.
“That’s the boy,” Ben distinctly heard him say. Then Prof. Richardsonsaid something in a low voice, and once more they fell to talkingearnestly in subdued tones.
Ben sat down and waited, feeling certain that the very worst musthappen. After a few moments, he heard the principal say:
“I shall give the matter my immediate attention, Mr. Hayden. It is veryunfortunate, and I may be compelled to take your advice.”
The second bell was ringing as Lemuel Hayden passed down the centeraisle and out of the academy. In passing, he looked at Ben, and hislips were pressed together above the edge of his whiskers until hismouth formed a thin, hard line.
Boys and girls came trooping in and sought their seats. Ben paid noattention to any of them, although he was sure that many eyed himclosely. His deskmate, however, a little chap by the name of Walker,found an opportunity amid the bustle and movement of the scholars tolean toward Ben and whisper:
“My! I bet you’re going to get it! Look out!”
Ben paid no heed. His nerves were strained, and he waited in grimsilence the coming crash, fully believing it was Prof. Richardson’spurpose to open the forenoon session in the regular manner and thendenounce him before the assembled scholars.
When the opening exercises were over, Ben’s heart strained and quiveredin the conviction that the trying moment had come. He was surprised andtemporarily relieved when the first class was called in regular orderand a few of the lower room scholars left to join a class in the upperroom.
After a short time, however, he concluded that the time of trial hadsimply been postponed, and this conviction brought upon him a sort ofslow torture that was hard to bear. He tried to study, but could notfix his mind on his book. His eyes might stare dully at the page, andhis lips might keep repeating words printed there, but his thoughtspersistently dwelt on the desperate strait into which he had fallen,and he speculated on the probable course that would be pursued byLemuel Hayden.
His fancy pictured Mr. Hayden as hastening from the academy to consultwith the town authorities and inform them about the dangerous characterwho had boldly entered the village for the purpose of attending schoolthere. Ben felt that Mr. Hayden’s words would create a profoundimpression, and he was certain the man would then demand that the“dangerous character” of whom he spoke should be taken into custody atonce and sent without delay to the State Reformatory.
The tortured lad further pictured Mr. Hayden and the authorities asmaking out certain papers and placing them in the hands of the villageconstable, urging him at the same time to do his duty without delay.
The boy fell to listening for the footsteps of Mr. Hayden and theconstable at the door. Once he started and turned, but the door openedto admit returning scholars who had been to a recitation in the upperroom.
Suddenly Ben heard his name sharply called by the principal, and hestarted to his feet with the conviction that at last the moment hadarrived and that Prof. Richardson was about to arraign him before theschool. Instead of that, his class in arithmetic had been called andwas already on the front seats. He hastened down the aisle and joinedthe class.
Knowing he was wholly unprepared in the day’s lesson, he inwardlyprayed that he might not be called to the blackboard. He was chosen,however, as one of five pupils to work problems on the board anddemonstrate them to the rest of the class.
When the others had finished and taken their seats, he still remainedbefore the board, chalk in hand, an unprepossessing figure as hefrowned hopelessly over his task. At last, seeing the boy had failed,the principal told him to be seated. Although his face was burning andhe was shamed by his failure, he could not repress a glance of defianceat some of his slyly-grinning classmates.
Prof. Richardson did not reprove him, but dismissed him with the restof the class when the successful ones had demonstrated their problems.
“He thinks I won’t be here much longer, and so it’s not worth whilebothering with me,” concluded Ben.
The forenoon wore away. At intermission Ben did not leave his seat, notcaring to mingle with the boys and give them an opportunity to insultor anger him.
As the mid-day hour approached, the boy’s suspense grew greater, for hewas still confident that he was not to escape. Thinking Prof.Richardson meant to speak of his case before dismissing the scholars atnoon, his dread of the ordeal grew as the short hand of the clockbehind the desk drew nearer and nearer to twelve.
Finally the hands of the clock stood upright, one over the other. Prof.Richardson closed his desk and locked it, after which he turned andfaced the scholars. His eyes found Ben Stone and stopped. The time hadcome!
“Stone,” said the professor quietly, without a trace of harshness orreproof, “I should like to have you remain after the others aredismissed. I wish to speak with you.”
For a moment a feeling of relief flashed over Ben like an electricshock. So it was to be done privately, and not before the whole school!He was grateful for that much consideration for his feelings. When theywere by themselves in that big, empty room, with no one else to hear,the professor would tell him quietly but firmly that it was quite outof the question to permit a boy of his bad reputation to remain in theschool. He would be directed to leave the academy, never to return.
With many backward glances at the lad who remained behind, the scholarsfiled out. The door had closed behind the last of them when Ben wastold to come down to the principal’s desk. The
re was no accusation,nothing but kindness, in Prof. Richardson’s eyes, as he looked on theboy who stood before him.
“Stone,” he said, in that same self-contained tone of voice, “I find itnecessary to speak of an unpleasant matter relative to yourself. Youcame here to this school as a stranger, and it has ever been mypractice to judge a boy by his acts and to estimate his character bywhat he proves himself to be. This is the course I should have pursuedin your case, but this morning there came to me a gentleman who is wellknown in this town and highly respected, who knew you well beforesettling in Oakdale, and he told me many disagreeable things about you.I cannot doubt that he spoke the truth. He seemed to regard you as arather dangerous and vicious character, and he expressed a belief thatit was not proper for you to associate with the scholars here. I amnot, however, one who thinks there is no chance of reform for a boy orman who has done wrong, and I think it is a fatal mistake to turn acold shoulder on the repentant wrongdoer. I have given some thought tothis matter, Stone, and I have decided to give you a chance, just thesame as any other boy, to prove yourself here at this school.”
Ben was quivering from head to feet. In his heart new hope and new lifeleaped. Still in some doubt, he faltered:
“Then you—you are not going to—to expel me, sir?”
“Not until I am satisfied that you deserve it; not until by some actthat comes under my observation you convince me that you are notearnestly seeking to reform—that you are not worthy to remain in theschool.”
“Oh, thank you—thank you!” choked the boy, and that was all he couldsay. His voice broke, and he saw the kind face of the professor througha blurring mist.
“I hope I am not making a mistake in this, Stone,” that same soothingvoice went on. “I hope you will try to prove to me that I am not.”
“I will, sir—I will!” Ben eagerly promised.
“That is all I ask of you. If you have a vicious disposition, try toovercome it; if you have a violent temper, seek to control it. Learn tobe your own master, which is the great lesson that every one must learnin case he wishes to become honored and respected and successful inlife. Prove to every one that you regret any mistakes of your past, andthat you may be thoroughly trusted in the future. In this manner youwill rise above your mistakes and above yourself. I don’t think I needsay anything more to you, but remember that I shall watch you withanxiety and with hope. That is all.”
Ben felt that he could have seized the professor’s hand and kissed it,but he knew he would quite break down, and the thought of such weaknessshamed him. All he did was to again huskily exclaim:
“Thank you, sir—thank you!”
The September air seemed again filled with mellow sweetness as hehurried in happy relief from the academy. With the touch of a passingbreeze, the maple trees of the yard waved their hands gayly to him, andin the distance beyond the football field Lake Woodrim dimpled andlaughed in the golden sunshine.
“One chance more!” he exultantly murmured. “One chance more, and I’llmake the most of it.”
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