CHAPTER III

  “’IS ’IGHNESS”

  At the sound of the closing door the boy in the chair glanced up, laidaside his book, and pulled himself to his feet. Despite his annoyanceat what he considered the other’s cheekiness in having taken possessionof the study without explanation or apology, Dick was forced to agrudging admiration for the appearance of the boy who confronted him.He was such a healthy, wholesome-looking duffer, Dick thought, that itwas a shame he hadn’t better sense. What Dick saw across the length ofthe study table was a broad-shouldered youth of sixteen years, attiredin a ludicrous red dressing-gown, much worn and faded, which, despitethe efforts of a knotted cord about the waist, failed by severalinches to envelop his form. His face was somewhat square in contour,with a chin a trifle too heavy for beauty, but, as Dick reflected,undoubtedly appropriate to the rest of the features. The eyes wereintensely blue and the hair was neither brown nor straw-colored, but ofsome indescribable shade between. The cheeks were full of very healthycolor. For the rest, the youth was of medium height, sturdily built,and, save for an easy smile of unembarrassed greeting which annoyedDick at the moment, was decidedly prepossessing.

  During the moment of silence that followed the closing of the door,employed by Dick in a mental stock-taking of his future roommate, thelatter’s eyes were not idle. He had been told that Richard Hope wasthe captain of the crew, a position of honor which he reverenced asdevoutly as only an English lad can, and he was curious to see whatmanner of boy filled that important office at Hillton. He saw a tallyouth, muscular rather than heavy, with shoulders that filled out thecoat almost to the bursting point, and a fairly small head set wellback. He saw a face with clean-cut features; a straight, sensitivenose, rounded and prominent chin, eyes rather far apart, and highcheek-bones that gave a look of thinness to the face. The eyes werebrown, and the hair under the cloth cap was of the same color. Abovethe nose were two distinct short vertical lines, the result of a habitof drawing the brows together into something approaching a frown whenanxious or puzzled. Just at present the lines were deep, and thegeneral expression of the face was one of ill-concealed annoyance. Itwas the boy in the queer red dressing-gown that first broke the silence.

  “I fancy you’re Hope,” he said smilingly. “My name’s Nesbitt, TrevorNesbitt, upper middle; I’m to share your quarters, you know.”

  “I’m very glad to know you,” answered Dick, without, however, much ofdelight in his tones. “I saw your luggage in the room before supper,although, of course, I didn’t know that it belonged to--er----”

  “To the beggar that was so cheeky on the coach, eh?” said Trevor. “Ididn’t know it myself--that is, until I went to the office. They toldme before recess that they’d put me in a room in Masters, but I didn’tknow who I was to be with. I----” He paused, with the slightest lookof embarrassment. “Fact is, I want to apologize for what I said on thecoach. I didn’t mean to be waxy, but those bally gees pulled so likethunder--and I didn’t know who you were, of course, and----”

  “It’s all right,” answered Dick. “I wouldn’t have interfered only Ithought you were going to upset us, and, being a senior, it was myduty, you understand.”

  “Of course, I see that,” responded Trevor earnestly. “You were right todo what you did, and you ought to have beat my silly head for me. Youcan now, you know, if you like.”

  Dick smiled, and then was sorry. He had meant to maintain a loftyexpression of hauteur, in order to impress Trevor with the factthat while he was willing to pass the other’s impertinence on thecoach he could never bring himself to an approval of a youth who soneedlessly endangered the lives of his companions in order to satisfya selfish whim, and who had so stubbornly transgressed the Rules ofthe School (the latter suddenly appeared unusually sacred to Dick,and he mentally spelled it with capital letters). But the smile had,he feared, somewhat spoiled his effort. He hastened to reassume hisexpression of calm disapprobation, and asked:

  “Did Professor Wheeler learn of it?” He had thrown aside his coat andhad seated himself before the hearth. Trevor perched himself on an armof the big chair and smiled a trifle ruefully.

  “Yes; I had a long talk with Wheels. I fancy he said some very goodthings, but I was so beastly hungry that I’m not certain. He told me tostay in the Yard for a couple of weeks; rather nasty of him, don’t youthink?”

  “Well, Nesbitt, under the circumstances, of course----” began Dick.Then he paused as he saw, or thought he saw, a twinkle of amusement inthe blue eyes before him.

  “Oh, well, two weeks is soon over with, and I had lots of fun while itlasted.” Trevor smiled reminiscently.

  “You had driven before, I suppose?” asked Dick with supreme indifference.

  “Yes; the pater and I used to do a good bit that way at home--inEngland, you know--and then last summer at Richfield I kept a nag ortwo rather busy.”

  “Have you been in this country long?” Dick really didn’t care, ofcourse, but one had to make conversation.

  “Four years; the pater came over here to look after his business andbrought me with him; the manager died. Then we thought--that is, thepater did--that he’d better stay in New York and look after theAmerican agency himself for awhile. And we’ve been here ever since.Last summer we decided that I’d better go to school somewhere. Thepater wanted me to go back to the other side and enter Rugby, butI rather fancied staying over here; so I found out about Americanschools, and when some one told me that Hillton generally turned outthe best eights I decided to go there.” Dick displayed interest.

  “Do you row?” he asked almost eagerly.

  “I’ve rowed a little when I’ve had a chance, which hasn’t been often.Americans don’t seem to do much that way. When I was a little chap Iwas a good bit of a wetbob, and was on the water a good deal. The patertaught me all I know when I was about twelve; he rowed stroke two yearsin the Cambridge boat.”

  “Well, I hope you’ll try for the crew,” answered Dick, with kindlycondescension. “We want all the candidates we can get; and even if youdon’t make the varsity boat this spring, there’s the second; and you’dhave a good show for next year.”

  “Thanks,” replied Trevor calmly; “I’d made up my mind to have a try forit. I rather fancy I’ll make the varsity.”

  Dick stared. Such confidence staggered him, and he tried to detectamusement on the other’s countenance. But his new roommate was staringseriously into the flames, for all the world, Dick thought, as ifhe were trying to decide whether to accept the place at bow orstroke. Trevor swung himself from the chair arm and tried to wrap hisdressing-gown closer about him.

  PLAN OF HILLTON, N.Y.

  REVISED FOR HILLTON ACADEMY]

  1. Academy Building. 2. Gymnasium. 3. Physical Laboratory. 4. Chemical Laboratory. 5. Masters Hall. 6. Bradley Hall. 7. Turner Hall. 8. Warren Hall. 9. Society House. 10. Principal’s residence. 11. Hampton House. 12. Professor Bowles. 13. Mrs. S. R. Higgins. B. and R.[*] 14. J. P. Bromfield. R. 15. J. A. Wurzbach. R. 16. Professor Lea. 17. W. H. Vance. B. and R. 18. A. L. Hutchins. R. 19. Miss P. R. Long. R. 20. Dr. Wainwright. 21. Methodist Church. 22. H. D. Robins. 23. J. A. Hamilton. R. 24. T. H. Brown. B. and R. 25. Kingston House. 26. Congregational Church. 27. L. H. Bickford. 28. Mrs. A. V. Knoedler. R. 29. N. D. Haewood. R. 30. L. Beard. 31. L. S. Scott. 32. Merrill House. 33. Porter’s store. 34. J. J. O’Neill. R. 35. Grammar School. 36. Baptist Church. 37. Caper’s store. 38. Post-Office. 39. Court-House. 40. Town Hall. 41. Primary School. 42. Watson’s Stables. 43. Eagle Tavern. 44. S. W. Hamment. B. 45. H. MacFarland. 46. W. W. Carroll. B. and R. 47. Episcopal Church. 48. D. W. Coolidge. B. and R. 49. H. M. Gibbs. R. 50. C. E. Noyes. R. 51. Miss O. Jasper. R. 52. Joseph Grace Hospital. 53. Boat-House. 54. Heating plant.

  [*] B, board. R, rooms to let.

  “Well, I fancy I’d better get that luggage out of
the way. I didn’twant to unpack until you came and could tell me where to put thethings. I’ve got a few pictures and some books, you know.”

  “You can have either side of the study you want,” answered Dick. “Iwas alone and so I stuck my things all round. If you like I’ll take mystuff off that wall there.”

  “Oh, but I say,” expostulated the other, “don’t do that. You’ve got theden looking so jolly nice it would be too bad to spoil it by takinganything down. I’ll just stick one or two of my chromo things wherethere’s room. I never was much at fixing up; my den always looks like abally stable.”

  He passed into the bedroom and Dick heard him pulling at knots andstraps and between whiles whistling a lugubrious tune that sounded allflats. Dick spread his feet apart comfortably, thrust his hands intohis pockets and smiled at the fire; Nesbitt’s cock-suredness was trulydelightful! “He fancied he’d make the varsity!” Dick’s grin enlargedand he chuckled softly. He almost wished that it wasn’t necessaryfor him to dislike his new roommate; there was something about theboy, possibly his placid assurance, that appealed to him. But--andDick’s smile froze again--it wouldn’t do for him to even appear tocountenance such escapades and--er--cheekiness as Nesbitt had indulgedin that afternoon. The youngster--he was Dick’s junior by a year--mustbe taught that at Hillton fun is one thing and----

  Dick’s reverie was interrupted by the subject, who appeared with abunch of photographs in his hand.

  “Do you mind if I put a couple of these on the mantel?”

  “Certainly not; it’s half yours, of course.”

  The tone was very chilly, and Trevor’s cheeks flushed slightly as hearranged the pictures behind the army of mugs. He started away andthen came back again, and, taking a photograph from its place, lookedhesitatingly at Dick, who was apparently supremely indifferent to hispresence.

  “That’s the pater,” he said finally, holding out the card, and speakinga little wistfully. Dick took the picture. It showed a middle-aged man,rather military looking, in riding clothes; a fine, handsome chap, Dickthought, and, having no quarrel with Trevor’s father, he said so:

  “He’s awfully good-looking, Nesbitt.”

  Trevor took the photograph and observed it a moment with smiling eyesere he placed it back on the mantel. He was evidently monstrously proudof his father; but he only replied with elaborate indifference:

  “He’s rather a good sort, the pater.” He took the rest of the picturesdown and held them out. “Here’s some more if you care to see them.”Dick pretended to smother a yawn. “Thanks,” he said.

  “I’m not boring you?” asked Trevor apologetically.

  “No, indeed.” Dick was looking at the likeness of an elderly woman in ahigh lace cap. “Not your mother, is it?”

  “No, that is my Aunt Grace; she lives in Manchester. I haven’t apicture of the mater here; we have only one, and the pater keeps that.She--she died when I was quite a youngster.”

  “Oh,” said Dick softly. “I’m sorry. Mothers are--well, I wouldn’t wantto lose mine, Nesbitt.”

  “I fancy not. We--the pater and I--were awfully cut up when the materdied. That’s a cousin of mine; he’s at Rugby.”

  The picture showed a stolid-looking boy with decidedly heavy featuresattired in flannels and leaning with studied carelessness on acricket bat. It was typically English, Dick thought as he laid itaside. A photograph with “Maud” scrawled across the bottom in highangular characters showed a conscious-looking young lady of eighteenor nineteen years simpering from a latticed doorway. “That’s CousinMaud,” explained Trevor; “she’s engaged to a lieutenant of engineersin South Africa; she’s a jolly nice girl.” When Dick had seen the lastof the photographs Trevor rearranged them on the mantel, and whilehe was doing so there came a knock at the study door, followed bythe entrance of a youth in a long ulster on which the snowflakes weremelting.

  “Hello, Earle, come in!” cried Dick, arising and shaking hands with thenewcomer. “Where’s Carl?”

  Stewart Earle, a slim, bright-faced boy of apparently fourteen years ofage, shook the flakes from his coat and drew a note from his pocket.

  “He couldn’t come over, Hope, so he asked me to bring this to you. Ihad to come over to the library. It’s snowing like all get out.”

  Dick took the note and ran his eyes over it. The little creasesdeepened on his forehead as he tossed it onto the table. “Take off yourcoat, Earle, and sit down. By the way, do you know Nesbitt?” And as thetwo shook hands, “Nesbitt’s going to share these quarters with me.”

  “Can’t stay,” answered Earle, “for I’ve got an hour’s work looking upsome silly stuff about some silly Grecian war. You’re looking awfullyfit, Hope.”

  “So are you,” laughed Dick. “You don’t look at all like the pasty-facedlittle junior of two years back.”

  “I don’t feel like him, either,” answered Stewart with a smile. “ShallI say anything to Carl?”

  “Yes, tell him I’m awfully much obliged, and that I’ll look him upto-morrow if I don’t meet him at recitation. Good-night; sorry youwon’t stay.”

  When the door had closed again Dick took up the note and reread it.

  “Dear Dick” (it ran), “Wheels has sent for me to go over to his house this evening; something about the indoor meeting. So I sha’n’t be able to see you to-night. What I was going to tell you was that Taylor’s been trying to raise trouble on the quiet with the crew fellows. He says we can’t turn out a crew that will stand any show of winning, and is trying to discourage the fellows. I’ll tell you more when I see you to-morrow. Stewart’s going to take this over to you.

  “Yours in a hurry,

  “CARL.

  “P. S.--Somebody ought to punch Taylor’s head--hard.”

  Dick smiled as he tore up the missive, and then frowned. It was what hemight have expected of Taylor, he told himself, and yet it was a bitdiscouraging. However, there was no use in meeting trouble half-way.He got a book and settled himself to study. In the bedroom Trevor wasstill distributing his belongings, and still whistling his tunelessair. When bedtime came Dick was silent and preoccupied, a fact whichTrevor noticed.

  “Hope you haven’t had bad news,” the latter said.

  “Oh, no,” answered Dick, “nothing to hurt.”

  Trevor turned out the gas and climbed into bed.

  “Good-night,” he said.

  “Good-night,” answered Dick.

  For a long time the latter lay staring into the darkness thinking ofCarl Gray’s note, and of Roy Taylor, and of Trevor Nesbitt; a good dealof Trevor. And the more he thought, the less satisfied with himself hebecame. His last thought as he turned over on his pillow and closed hiseyes was that he had behaved like a particularly disagreeable prig.