CHAPTER IV
A BOY WHO WASN'T AN ASS BUT BEHAVED LIKE ONE
Baccalaureate services being over and the graduates duly exhorted to thewisdom of the ages, the latter were for a time permitted to alight fromtheir lofty pedestal in the public eye and to revert temporarily to thecomfortable if less exalted state of being plain every day human girls.
While Philip and Carlotta went up on the heights fondly believing theywere settling their destinies forever, Tony had been enjoying anafternoon _en famille_ with her uncle and her brother Ted.
Suddenly she looked at her watch and sprang up from the arm of heruncle's chair on which she had been perched, chattering and content, fora couple of hours.
"My goodness! It is most four o'clock. Dick will be here in a minute. MayI call up the garage and ask them to send the car around? I'm dying for aride. We can go over to South Hadley and get the twins, if you'd like.I'm sure they must have had enough of Mt. Holyoke by this time."
"Car's out of commission," grunted Ted from behind his sporting sheet.
"Out of commission? Since when?" inquired Doctor Holiday. "It was allright when you took it to the garage last night."
"I went out for a joy ride and had a smash up," explained his nephewnonchalantly, and still hidden behind the newspaper.
"Oh Ted! How could you when you know we want to use the car everyminute?" There was sharp dismay and reproach in Tony's voice.
"Well, I didn't smash it on purpose, did I?" grumbled her brother,throwing down the paper. "I'm sorry, Tony. But it can't be helped now.You'd better be thankful I'm not out of commission myself. Came darnnear being."
"Oh Ted!" There was only concern and sympathy in his sister's exclamationthis time. Tony adored her brothers. She went over to Ted now,scrutinizing him as if she half expected to see him minus an arm or aleg. "You weren't hurt?" she begged reassurance.
"Nope--nothing to signify. Got some purple patches on my person and atwist to my wrist, but that's all. I was always a lucky devil. Got morelives than a cat."
He was obviously trying to carry matters off lightly, but never oncedid he meet his uncle's eyes, though he was quite aware they werefixed on him.
Tony sighed and shook her head, troubled.
"I wish you wouldn't take such risks," she mourned. "Some day you'll getdreadfully hurt. Please be careful. Uncle Phil," she appealed to thehigher court, "do tell him he mustn't speed so. He won't listen to me."
"If Ted hasn't learned the folly of speeding by now, I am afraid thatnothing I can say will have much effect. I wonder--"
Just here the telephone interrupted with an announcement that Mr.Carson was waiting downstairs. Tony flew from the phone to dab powderon her nose.
"Since we can't go riding I think I'll take Dick for a walk in Paradise,"she announced into the mirror. "Will you come, too, Uncle Phil?"
"No, thank you, dear. Run along and tell Dick we expect him back tosupper with us."
The doctor held open the door for his niece, then turned back toTed, who was also on his feet now, murmuring something about goingout for a stroll.
"Wait a bit, son. Suppose you tell me first precisely what happenedlast night."
"Did tell you." The boy fumbled sulkily at the leaves of a magazine thatlay on the table. "I took the car out and, when I was speeding like SamHill out on the Florence road, I struck a hole. She stood up on her earand pitched u--er--_me_ out in the gutter. Stuck her own nose into atelephone pole. I telephoned the garage people to go after her thismorning. They told me a while ago she was pretty badly stove up and itwill probably take a couple of weeks to get her in order." The story cameout jerkily and the narrator kept his eyes consistently floorward duringthe recital.
"Is that all?"
"What more do you want?" curtly. "I said I was sorry, if that is whatyou mean."
"It isn't what I mean, Ted. I assume you didn't deliberately go out tobreak my car and that you are not particularly proud of the outcome ofyour joy ride. I mean, exactly what I asked. Have you told me thewhole story?"
Ted was silent, mechanically rolling the corner of the, rug under hisfoot. His uncle studied the good-looking, unhappy young face. His mindworked back to that inadvertent "u--er--_me_" of the confession.
"Were you alone?" he asked.
A scarlet flush swept the lad's face, died away, leaving it alittle white.
"Yes."
The answer was low but distinct. It was like a knife thrust to thedoctor. In all the eight years in which he had fathered Ned's sons, bothbefore and since his brother's death, never once to his knowledge hadeither one lied to him, even to save himself discomfort, censure orpunishment. With all their boyish vagaries and misdeeds, it had been theone thing he could count on absolutely, their unflinching, invariablehonesty. Yet, surely as the June sun was shining outside, Ted had lied tohim just now. Why? Rash twenty was too young to go its way unchallengedand unguided. He was responsible for the lad whose dead father hadcommitted him to his charge.
Only a few weeks before his death Ned had written with curiousprescience, "If I go out any time, Phil, I know you will look after thechildren as I would myself or better. Keep your eye on Ted especially.His heart is in the right place, but he has a reckless devil in him thatwill bring him and all of us to grief if it isn't laid."
Doctor Holiday went over and laid a hand on each of the lad's hunchedshoulders.
"Look at me, Ted," he commanded gently.
The old habit of obedience strong in spite of his twenty years, Tedraised his eyes, but dropped them again on the instant as if they werelead weighted.
"That is the first time you ever lied to me, I think, lad," said thedoctor quietly.
A quiver passed over the boy's face, but his lips set tighter than everand he pulled away from his uncle's hands and turned, staring out of thewindow at a rather dusty and bedraggled looking hydrangea on the lawn.
"I wonder if it was necessary," the quiet voice continued. "I haven't theslightest wish to be hard on you. I just want to understand. You knowthat, son, don't you?"
The boy's head went up at that. His gaze deserted the hydrangea, for thefirst time that day, met his uncle's, squarely if somewhat miserably.
"It isn't that, Uncle Phil. You have every right to come down on me. Ihadn't any business to have the car out at all, much less take foolchances with it. But honestly I have told you all--all I can tell. I didlie to you just now. I wasn't alone. There was a--a girl with me."
Ted's face was hot again as he made the confession.
"I see," mused the doctor. "Was she hurt?"
"No--that is--not much. She hurt her shoulder some and cut her head abit." The details came out reluctantly as if impelled by the doctor'ssteady eyes. "She telephoned me today she was all right. It's a miraclewe weren't both killed though. We might have been as easy as anything.You said just now nothing you could say would make me have sense aboutspeeding. I guess what happened last night ought to knock sense into meif anything could. I say, Uncle Phil--"
"Well?" as the boy paused obviously embarrassed.
"If you don't mind I'd rather not say anything more about the girl.She--I guess she'd rather I wouldn't," he wound up confusedly.
"Very well. That is your affair and hers. Thank you for coming halfway tomeet me. It made it easier all around."
The doctor held out his hand and the boy took it eagerly.
"You are great to me, Uncle Phil--lots better than I deserve. Pleasedon't think I don't see that. And truly I am awfully ashamed of smashingthe car, and not telling you, as I ought to have this morning, andspoiling Tony's fun and--and everything." Ted swallowed something downhard as if the "everything" included a good deal. "I don't see why I haveto be always getting into scrapes. Can't seem to help it, somehow. GuessI was made that way, just as Larry was born steady."
"That is a spineless jellyfish point of view, Ted. Don't fool yourselfwith it. There is no earthly reason why you should keep drifting from oneescapade to another. Get some backbone int
o you, son."
Ted's face clouded again at that, though he wasn't sulky this time. Hewas remembering some other disagreeable confessions he had to make beforelong. He knew this was a good opening for them, but somehow he could notdrive himself to follow it up. He could only digest a limited amount ofhumble pie at a time and had already swallowed nearly all he could stand.Still he skirted warily along the edge of the dilemma.
"I suppose you think I made an awful ass of myself at college this year,"he averred gloomily.
"I don't think it. I know it." The doctor's eyes twinkled a little. Thenhe grew sober. "Why do you, Ted? You aren't really an ass, you know. Ifyou were, there might be some excuse for behaving like one."
Ted flushed.
"That's what Larry told me last spring when he was pitching into meabout--well about something. I don't know why I do, Uncle Phil, honest Idon't. Maybe it is because I hate college so and all the stale old stuffthey try to cram down our throats. I get so mad and sick and disgustedwith the whole thing that I feel as if I had to do something to offsetit--something that is real and live, even if it isn't according to rulesand regulations. I hate rules and regulations. I'm not a mummy and Idon't want to be made to act as if I were. I'll be a long time dead and Iwant to get a whole lot of fun out of life first. I hate studying. I wantto do things, Uncle Phil--"
"Well?"
"I don't want to go back to college."
"What do you want to do?"
"Join the Canadian forces. It makes me sick to have a war going on andme not in it. Dad quit college for West Point and everybody thought itwas all right. I don't see why I shouldn't get into it. I wouldn't falldown on that. I promise you. I'd make you proud of me instead of ashamedthe way you are now." The boy's voice and eyes were unusually earnest.
His uncle did not answer instantly. He knew that there was some truth inhis nephew's analysis of the situation. It was his uneasy, superabundantenergy and craving for action that made him find the more or lessrestricted life of the college, a burden, a bore and an exasperation, anddrove him to crazy escapades and deeds of flagrant lawlessness. He neededno assurance that the boy would not "fall down" at soldiering. He wouldtake to it as a duck to water. And the discipline might be the making ofhim, prove the way to exorcise the devil. Still there were otherconsiderations which to him seemed paramount for the time at least.
"I understand how you feel, Ted," he said at last. "If we get into thewar ourselves I won't say a word against your going. I should expect youto go. We all would. But in the meantime as I see it you are not quite afree agent. Granny is old and very, very feeble. She hasn't gotten overyour father's death. She grieves over it still. If you went to war Ithink it would kill her. She couldn't bear the strain and anxiety.Patience, laddie. You don't want to hurt her, do you?"
"I s'pose not," said Ted a little grudgingly. "Then it is no,Uncle Phil?"
"I think it ought to be no of your own will for Granny's sake. We don'tlive to ourselves alone in this world. We can't. But aside from Granny Iam not at all certain I should approve of your leaving college justbecause it doesn't happen to be exciting enough to meet your fancy andmeans work you are too lazy and irresponsible to settle down to doing.Looks a little like quitting to me and Holidays aren't usually quitters,you know."
He smiled at the boy but Ted did not smile back. The thrust aboutHolidays and quitters went home.
"I suppose it has got to be college again if you say so," he saidsoberly after a minute. "Thank heaven there are three months ahead clearthough first."
"To play in?"
"Well, yes. Why not? It is all right to play in vacation, isn't it?" theboy retorted, a shade aggressively.
"Possibly if you have earned the vacation by working beforehand."
Ted's eyes fell at that. This was dangerously near the ground of thoseuncomfortable, inevitable confessions which he meant to put off as longas possible.
"Do you mind if I go out now?" he asked with unusual meekness after amoment's rather awkward silence.
"No, indeed. Go ahead. I've had my say. Be back for supper with us?"
"Dunno." And Ted disappeared into the adjoining room which connected withhis uncle's. In a moment he was back, expensive panama hat in one handand a lighted cigarette held jauntily in the other. "I meant to tell youyou could take the car repairs out of my allowance," he remarked casuallybut with his eye shrewdly on his guardian as he made the announcement.
"Very well," replied the latter quietly. Then he smiled a little seeinghis nephew's crestfallen expression. "That wasn't just what you wanted meto say, was it?" he added.
"Not exactly," admitted the boy with a returning grin. "All right, UnclePhil. I'm game. I'll pay up."
A moment later his uncle heard his whistle as he went down the drivewayapparently as care free as if narrow escapes from death were nothing inhis young life. The doctor shook his head dubiously as he watched himfrom the window. He would have felt more dubious still had he seen theboy board a Florence car a few minutes later on his way to keep arendezvous with the girl about whom he had not wished to talk.