CHAPTER XVII
SID KEEPS SILENT
Tom and Phil wished they could have been a witness to the scene whichtook place a little later in the study of Dr. Churchill. Not from meremotives of curiosity, but that they might, if possible, aid their chum.That he was in serious straits they well knew, for the rules of Randall(as indeed is the case at all colleges) were most stringent on thesubject of liquor.
Poor Sid, led like a prisoner by the proctor, walked moodily up to thefaculty residence, while Tom and Phil, with sorrow in their hearts,went to their room. Their grief was too deep and genuine to admit ofdiscussion.
"You wished to see me?" inquired Dr. Churchill, coming out of his studyinto his reception room, as Sid and the proctor stood up to greet him,having previously sent in word by the servant. "Ha, what is it now?" andthe venerable head of Randall looked over the tops of his spectacles atthe two; the official, stern and unyielding, and the student with apuzzled, worried air, sorrowful yet not at all guilty. Dr. Churchillheld a book and his finger was between the pages, as if he hoped soon tobe able to go back and resume his reading at the place he had left off.
"I regret to announce that I have a most flagrant violation of the rulesto report to you, Dr. Churchill," began Mr. Zane.
"Another of my boys out late," remarked the doctor, a half smile playingaround his lips. "Well, of course that can't be allowed, but I supposehe has some good excuse. He went to see about a challenge for a ballgame, or it was so hot in his room that he couldn't study," and thepresident smiled, then, as he caught sight of a little blaze of logs inthe fireplace of his reception room (for the evening was rather chilly),he realized that his latter explanation about a hot room would scarcelyhold. And, be it said, Dr. Churchill was always looking for some excusefor indiscreet students, to the chagrin of the officious proctor.
"Doubtless a baseball matter took him out," went on the president. "Ofcourse we can't allow that. Discipline is discipline, but if you willwrite out for me a couple of hundred lines of Virgil--by the way, youplay at shortstop, don't you?" and the doctor looked quizzically at Sid.The president had rather less knowledge of baseball than the averagelady. "How is the eleven coming on, Mr. Henderson?"
The doctor tried to appear interested, but, for the life of him he nevercould remember whether baseball was played with nine, ten or a dozenmen, albeit he attended all the championship games, and shouted with therest when the team won. He wanted to appear interested now, however, andhe was anxious to get back to his reading.
"I regret to inform you," went on the proctor (which was not true, forSid well knew that Mr. Zane took a fiendish delight in what he was aboutto say), "I regret to state that I caught Mr. Henderson coming in afterhours to-night; and I would not think so much of that, were it not forthe condition in which I caught him," and the proctor assumed a saintlyair.
"I don't quite understand," remarked the doctor, laying down his book,but taking care to mark a certain passage. Sid was idly aware that itwas a volume of Sanskrit, the doctor being an authority on that ancientlanguage of the Hindoos.
"I regret to say that Mr. Henderson is intoxicated!" blurted out theproctor.
"I am not, sir!" retorted the second baseman, it being his first remarksince entering the room. "I have never touched a drop of intoxicatingliquor in my life, sir!"
There was a ring in his voice, and, as he stood up and faced his accuserthere was that in his manner which would indicate to any unprejudicedperson that he was perfectly sober.
"Intoxicated!" exclaimed the doctor, for he had a nameless horror ofanything like that. "Don't make such a charge, Mr. Zane, unless you arepositive----"
"I am positive, Dr. Churchill."
"I have never touched a drop of liquor," insisted Sid.
Dr. Churchill, with a stern look on his rugged face, advanced and tookhold of Sid by the arms, not severely, not even tightly, but with agentle, friendly pressure. He looked into the troubled eyes of thelad--troubled but not ashamed--worried, perhaps, but not abashed. Thedoctor bent closer.
"I am no authority on intoxicants," went on the president grimly, "but Ishould say you were mistaken, Mr. Zane."
"Will Mr. Henderson deny that I took a pint bottle of liquor from himnot ten minutes ago?" asked Mr. Zane, as he produced the incriminatingevidence.
Sid's face turned red under its tan--it had been rather pale before--buthe did not answer. Dr. Churchill looked grave.
"Is this true?" he asked.
"I did have the bottle in my pocket," admitted Sid. "But it was not formyself. I took it----"
The president raised a restraining hand.
"Wait," he said. "I will send for Dr. Marshall. This is serious." Hesighed as he looked at his book. To-night he felt, more than ever, whatit meant, to be the head of an institution where several hundred youngmen--healthy, vitalized animals--were held in leash only by slendercords. Dr. Churchill summoned a messenger, and sent him for the collegephysician.
"Mr. Henderson is no more intoxicated than I am, and I never take adrop, nor give it," declared the physician. "I guess you're mistaken,Mr. Zane."
"Is this liquor?" demanded the proctor, extending the bottle.
Dr. Marshall looked at the bottle through the light, poured out some ofthe contents into his palm, and smelled of the liquid.
"It seems to be whisky," he said doubtfully, "but I should have to makean analysis to be perfectly sure."
"You need not go to that trouble," said Sid quickly. "I have everyreason to believe that it _is_ whisky."
"And what were you doing with it?" demanded Dr. Churchill sternly.
"That is a question which I must decline to answer," and Sid drewhimself up haughtily.
The venerable president drew back, almost as if he had received a blow.He looked at Sid keenly.
"Very well," he remarked quietly, and there was a note of sadness inhis voice. "I shall have to inflict severe punishment. The rules callfor suspension or expulsion, but, in view of your previous excellentrecord, I will make an exception. You will be debarred from all furtherparticipation in athletics for the remainder of the term--unless," andthe doctor paused, "you can make some explanation that will prove yourinnocence," and he looked almost as a father might at an erring son.
"I--I can't make any explanation," answered Sid brokenly, as he turnedaway, while the doctor, with a shake of his head, took up his Sanskritbook, and went back to his study.