CHAPTER XV
TONY PLAYS THE PART OF A GUARDIAN ANGEL
Mr. Roylston put his policy with regard to Tony into rigorous effect.From that day, except when it was obviously necessary to speak withthem about their classroom work, he ignored Deering and his friends.He treated them with an icy courtesy that was far more effective insubduing their high spirits than his sarcasm had ever been. Lawrenceand Wilson, particularly the latter, were restive under the process,and often threatened, though they never attempted, open rebellion.Tony, on the other hand, was more sensitive to this peculiar methodof revenge, and it was probably due to his recognition of thissensitiveness that Mr. Roylston had adopted it. Deering knew that hehad been guilty of ungentlemanly conduct and he was not happy so longas his whole-hearted apology was not accepted in the spirit in whichit was given. But there seemed no way in which he could improve thesituation. He tried to prove his sincerity by doing specially good workin Mr. Roylston’s class, but no word of commendation ever fell from themaster’s lips.
In truth Mr. Roylston had been wounded more deeply than he had everbeen before in a long career that had been marked, too, by much openhostility. But unfortunately he was not the type that could perceivethat his difficulties largely lay in his own fundamental lack ofsympathy with boy nature; and, resenting what he felt was the boys’unjust attitude toward him, he had not it in his soul then to forgivesuch an offense as Tony had been guilty of. As he looked back overtheir four or five years at Deal, the incident of _The Spectacle_seemed to him but the culmination of a long series of systematicattempts on the part of that particular “crowd” to belittle and annoyhim. That the Head had practically required him to give up the gatingpenalty, that he had perhaps a lurking feeling that that penalty hadbeen unjustly imposed, added to the bitterness he felt for our youngfriends.
And mixed up in all this affair of Deering and his “crowd,” there wasin Mr. Roylston’s mind a sense, not clear but keen, that Finch wassomehow concerned. He genuinely believed that Doctor Forester had madea mistake in taking Finch at Deal, and the passage of words with Morrison the occasion of the boy’s arrival, had irritated him intensely.He knew, and was sometimes ashamed of the fact, that he had let thatirritation affect his treatment, in little ways, of the boy himself.He had always disliked Morris, and quite sincerely thought Morris’sunaffected good nature and genial optimism with regard to boys wasa pose. The incident of Finch’s hazing, wherein he had punished therescuers instead of the hazers, increased his uncomfortable feelingabout the whole situation. But the discomfort did not increase hishumility. He knew that in much he was wrong, but he was so accustomedto the idea of supposing himself to be right, that he argued away theaccusations of his conscience.
On Finch he therefore continued to vent a good deal of his spleen.And on Finch the old sledge-hammer method of sarcasm was an effectiveweapon. The boy bore the master’s reproofs with a little less outwardwincing than of old, but inwardly they racked his very soul. Mr.Roylston’s attitude affected him very differently from the wayit affected Deering. He could not work in his class. A shaft ofsarcasm, an expression of patient suffering on the master’s face asthe boy blundered through his recitation, altogether confused him.Day after day he would fail in a lesson which he had spent hours inpreparing. From a sense of duty Mr. Roylston now and then would seethe delinquent outside of the classroom, and make an attempt to clearup his difficulties. But on these occasions Finch seemingly was morecompletely bereft of his senses than during a recitation. Mr. Roylstonmistook this confusion for willful refusal to understand, and in timetreated him accordingly.
“What the deuce is the matter with you, Jake?” Tony asked once, aftera trying period in Latin, wherein Finch had floundered about in absurdfashion. “You know a heap more Latin than I do, but you go in beforeGumshoe and act as if he were asking you questions in Sanscrit.”
“I know—I know,” Finch answered, miserably. “But I can’t help it. Ijust can’t get my wits before him. Every idea flies out of my head whenhe asks me a question. I am doing all right in other subjects.”
“Well, why don’t you go to Gumshoe and tell him?”
“Oh, I’ve tried,” said Finch. “That’s worse.”
“It’s a beastly shame,” said Tony. “But there’s nothing I can do; I’min with Gumshoe worse than ever.”
“And that’s all my fault!”
“Not a bit,” said Tony. “I had no business to write that thing in thefirst place; neither had Jimmie for that matter,—about Gumshoe oranybody else. I wish I could convince him that I am really sorry.”
“Well, I guess you can’t do that,” said Finch. “But if I had not beenso stupid it wouldn’t have happened. To tell you the truth, Deering, Ioften wish I had never come here.”
“That’s idiotic!” said Tony; and then asked tactlessly, “What would youhave done?”
“I dunno,” Finch answered. “I guess it would have been better if I hadnever been born.”
Poor Jake resented Mr. Roylston’s attitude toward his hero much morethan he did the master’s treatment of himself. Once or twice, glancingup from his desk in the schoolroom, Mr. Roylston caught a glanceof such concentrated hatred in Finch’s eyes, as actually made himtremble. He attributed it, of course, to the boy’s perverse and willfullaziness, and once or twice he returned Finch’s stare in a way, thatthough the boy dropped his eyes beneath it, seemed to burn into hissoul.
Jacob failed miserably in Virgil at the mid-year examinationsin February, and did not do well enough in his other work tocounterbalance the bad impression of his abject failure in Latin. Thenervous, overwrought state in which he had been living during the falland winter told on his health. At the best he was frail, but now hesuffered frequently from intense headaches that forced him much againsthis will, quite frequently to spend two or three days in the Infirmary.
Tony saw all this more clearly than anyone else except Morris. “What heneeds,” he said one evening to Jimmie and Kit, “is to get an interestin something, to be brought out of himself, to get into something thatwill bring him more in touch with the life of the school.”
Kit, in his easy-going way, agreed; and went on strumming his guitar,on which he had been trying to pick out a new popular air. Jimmie gavethe matter a little thought and asked, “What can he do?”
“Well,” said Tony, after a moment or so, “I’ve been thinking that itwould be a good thing to put him up for the Dealonian.”
“The Dealonian!” exclaimed Kit, tossing the guitar aside. “Why, man,you’re plumb nutty. He’s got as much chance of getting into theDealonian as I have of getting into Congress. A fine figure that littlescarecrow would cut in a public meeting, wouldn’t he?”
“Oh, I think he could do it,” protested Tony, a little sharply, for hewas annoyed by Kit’s tone. “It would give him a lot of confidence ifwe took him in. It would make him feel that the best fellows in schoolwere willing to give him a chance.”
“I dare say it would make him feel that,” Lawrence remarkedjudiciously. “But I can’t say that I see that he has any particularclaim to consideration. The Dealonian isn’t exactly an asylum for themaimed, the halt and the blind.”
“No, of course, it isn’t, but it’s supposed to be run for the benefitof the school, isn’t it? And ‘the good of the school’ simply meansthe good of the fellows in school. Finch has as much right to theDealonian, if there’s a chance of it being a help to him, as you or Ihave.”
“But he hasn’t any chance, d’ye see?” said Kit.
“No I don’t see,” answered Tony. “I dare say the three of us have acertain amount of influence, and if we chose to exert it I’ve an ideathat we could get him in.”
“Well, you can hang that harp on a weeping willow-tree,” was Kit’sconclusive comment, “I don’t intend to try. I am perfectly willingto lick Ducky Thornton every day in the week for hazing him, if needbe; I’m willing to have Tony bring him in here three or four times aweek and bore us to death, if he wants to; but I’
m hanged if I’ll tryto get him into the Dealonian. That’s supposed to be made up of therepresentative fellows of the school. You’re carrying your guardianangelship business too far, kiddo. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.”
Tony, for once, did not reply in like fashion to Kit’s vigorous andbreezy way of expressing himself. He reflected a moment or so, and thenspoke with an unusually quiet and determined air, as though he weresimply making an announcement and not asking advice. “I have thought itover pretty carefully, Kit; and I’ve made up my mind to try it. I onlyhope you fellows will back me up.”
Jimmie was silent. Kit, convinced at last that Tony was indeed inearnest, protested vigorously. “You’re dead wrong, Tony. You oughtn’tto try it. The fellows won’t stand for it. And you’ve no right to askme to back you up in a thing which I’m perfectly certain is a darn foolproposition.”
“Well,” said Tony, “you needn’t back me up, if you don’t want to. Butthat’s all rot for you to say it’s a darn fool notion. I’ve a perfectright to put him up, if I think it the thing to do, and I am going todo it.”
“Well, go ahead, and waste your time. I s’pose the little pup’ll lickyour boots cleaner than ever in gratitude, whether you’re successful ornot.”
Tony flared up at this. “I’ll thank you, Wilson, not to call my friendspups. I reckon I can find some decent chaps to vote for him, even if Ican’t count on my own pals.” And with that, very hot in the head, heflung himself out of the room.
“Well, I’ll be darned,” said Kit. “To think of him flinging me over forthat drowned rat! What’s the matter with him? Has he gone clean crazy?”
“He’s got the kid on his brain. But no sense in your flaring out so,Kit; that’s no way to get on with Tony. Naturally he’s sensitive.”
“Who flared up?” demanded Kit, indignantly. “I’m as calm as a millpond.Tony went off the handle because we disagreed with him. I guess I’ve asgood a right to my opinions as he has to his.”
“Oh, for gosh’s sake, shut up; there’s no sense in quarreling over thismatter. Finch won’t get into the Dealonian, but whether he can or not,I’d just as soon vote for him.”
“Well, I’ll be hanged if I would,” asserted Wilson. “And what’s moreI’ll get up in the meeting and say it’s a darn fool proposition andought to be turned down.”
“What’s the sense in doing that? It’ll just mean that you and Tony willhave a serious falling-out, and the crowd will get busted up. What’sthe use? It ain’t worth while.”
“The heck it isn’t! I won’t compromise a principle for a friend ever, Idon’t care who he is. Nor I won’t have a friend ram his ideas down mythroat. I’ve as much right to put a fellow up or blackball him in theDealonian as Tony has. Seems to me he’s getting——.”
“Oh, shut up. You are working yourself all up over nothing. It isn’tworth it. Don’t quarrel with Tony.”
“Seems to me Tony’s picking the quarrel with me. Who flung himself outof the room just now? I didn’t, I guess. I tell you what, Jim, if Tonywants to keep on good terms with me, he can; but he’s not going to makethe price of his friendship my voting to suit him about anything. Iguess we made Tony Deering in this school—you and I.”
“Rot!” exclaimed Jimmie. “Tony made himself. He’d have been the headof the school if we had never exchanged a word with him. We’ve beendarn glad to have him in the crowd, that’s the truth of it; he’s beenthe center of it ever since he’s been here. You were keen enough aboutmaking him president of the Dealonian, and I guess you want him forhead prefect next year.”
“’Course I was keen; ‘course I do ... I’m all serene. If there’s aquarrel, it won’t be my fault. But I’m going to blackball Finch for thegood of the Society, ‘cause I think it would be a mistake to let himin, and I hope you’ll do the same.”
“Well, I won’t.”
“Do as you please, that’s _your_ right. So long, kiddo, I guess I’llseek a more congenial clime for the time bein’.” And with that Kitswung himself out of the room.
Jimmie, genuinely distressed by this first serious difference intheir congenial little circle, went over to Mr. Morris’s room, andtook him into his confidence on the subject. Morris was not a littledisturbed by the situation. He admired Tony’s purpose, but withJimmie, thought it somewhat ill-judged and ill-timed, and deplored thepossible cleavage it might make in the little knot of friends. But,characteristically, he did not see his way to interfering, even withadvice.
Unfortunately Tony and Kit again encountered each other that night inReggie Carroll’s room. Tony was cool, and Reggie, ignorant of whathad happened, made matters worse by asking them facetiously what hadruffled the sweet waters of their friendship.
“Ask Tony,” answered Kit laconically, as he thumbed a school year bookand tried to think of some way of getting out of the room.
Tony shrugged his shoulders.
“What’s up?” repeated Reggie.
“Nothing particular,” Deering answered, after a pause. “We just don’tpull together in a certain matter.”
“Well, what do you expect,” exclaimed Kit impulsively, “do you expectme to measure my opinions by yours?”
“Rather not,” answered Tony, with a faint sneer, “you’d find them inthat case a darn sight too big for you.”
“Softly, softly,” protested Reggie. But Tony again was gone.
When he got back to his own room later in the evening, Jimmie tried totalk the subject over with him, but Tony, ruffled and irritated, wasnot inclined to do so.
“I’ve made up my mind, Jim, so that’s all there is to it. I’m goingto put Finch up next Saturday night, and in the meantime I’m going towork hard to try to get the fellows to vote for him. I hope you won’tblackball him.”
“No, I won’t do that, Tony; but I wish you’d see Kit and talk it overwith him in a friendly way.”
“I’ll talk it over with Kit, if he wants to talk it over with me; buthe has got to drop his swagger and bulldozing manner, if he wants to.”
“Look here, old man; Kit’s just impulsive; that’s all. Suppose I, afterI had thought it over, made up my mind that it would be a bad thingfor the Society and blackballed Finch, would you let that make anydifference between us?”
Tony thought a moment. “No, old chap, of course it wouldn’t. I’d besorry, of course, because I would feel you were wrong. But it isn’tbeing opposed that makes me sore, it’s Kit’s blustering blowing way ofdoing it.”
Jimmie went that night and sat on Tony’s bed for a long time afterlights. They said nothing more about Kit or Finch, but talkedintimately of a variety of other things in which they were interested,in the old close pleasant way. It was a long happy quiet talk and itdid much to strengthen their friendship in the times of stress thatwere coming.
The conversations we have recorded took place well along in the winterterm on a Monday night in March. The following Saturday evening was thedate of the important meeting of the Dealonian Society at which newmembers were elected.
Tony spent a zealous week campaigning for Finch, and found it adisheartening business. Most of the boys—there were about fortymembers of the Society—protested, but after long persuasion, promisedto cast favorable votes, though they took pains, almost withoutexception, to assure Tony that they were doing it simply because heasked them. Others refused definitely to commit themselves, and Tonyhad to be content with that. To Jimmie’s distress, Kit kept away fromNumber Five study all that week, and refused to make any advancestoward setting things right with Tony. “I’ll talk it over, if he comesto me,” he would say to Jimmie over and over. “But I am going toblackball Finch, and I guess I can persuade at least one other fellowto do the same, so he won’t get into the Dealonian. Tony can do what hepleases. After it’s all over, if he wants to make up, well and good;I’ll have no hard feelings: if he don’t,—well, well and good, also.”
At last, after what seemed an interminable week to our three friendsSaturday night came, and the forty members of t
he Dealonian Societymet in solemn conclave in the Library. Tony took the chair, looking atrifle nervous and anxious, and called the meeting to order. Kit waspresent, sitting well back, and assumed an air of bland indifferenceto the proceedings. There were four new members to be elected from theFifth Form.
Routine business was transacted for a quarter of an hour, and at lastthe president announced, “If there is no objection, we will proceed tothe election of new members. As I wish to place a name in nomination, Iwill ask Mr. Wendell to take the chair.”
Billy Wendell, the head prefect, captain of the football team, and thelast year’s president of the Dealonian, rose from his seat, and tookthe chair behind the big desk in a very solemn way, very much as apresident _pro tem_. walks up to the platform of the Senate. He settledhimself, coughed slightly, and recognized Tony. “Mr. Deering has thefloor,” he observed in judicial tones.
“Mr. President and members of the Dealonian Society, I desire to placein nomination for membership in this society the name of Jacob Finch ofthe Fifth Form.” As this was expected, the boys showed little surprise.Jimmie glanced back at Kit, and saw his lips curl with faint contempt.Tony too glanced about him; then, after a moment’s hesitation, hethrew back his shoulders, and addressed the Society. He cast aside nowthe solemn traditional oratorical form that the boys made an effortto assume, and his clear sweet voice rang with feeling. “Fellows,” hesaid, “I believe, as we all do, that this Society has the right toconsider itself the most important institution in the school, and Irealize that I am nominating one for membership in it, who, accordingto all standards we have set for ourselves and which have been so wellmaintained through many school generations, seems not to have a shadowof right to election. We want here fellows whose opinion counts, whoseinfluence will be strong and positive, who have done and are able todo things for the school, in athletics, in scholarship, and in variousother ways. I can’t pretend that I think that Jacob Finch will standfor these things or will do these things. But for once, it seems to me,that other considerations should weigh with us.”
The boys were startled by the unusual feeling in Deering’s voice and bythe unconventional arguments he was using to urge his candidate upontheir favor, and they settled into attitudes of deep attention.
“At the beginning of the year,” Tony went on, “a new boy came amongstus who, as we all know, has been treated as no boy ever was who came tothe school before. He has been brutally hazed, and for months his lifehas been made miserable by young and old, and unfortunately he has hadno way of defending himself. He has never had a chance, he hasn’t gota square deal. I have got to know him, I suppose, better than anyoneelse, and while I don’t claim or even think that he is an unusualfellow, I do believe there is something in him that could be made tocount for the school if he had a show; if it could really be proved tohim that you fellows were willing to make him one of yourselves, givehim not merely a fair, but a generous chance. I don’t want you merelyto admit him to this Society because I ask it as a favor to me, thoughI hope you will do it for that reason if you won’t do it for any other;but I ask you to vote for him as an act of generous kindness toward achap who hasn’t had the chance that any of us have had, whose life inthis school up to now has been downright hell.”
With that Tony sat down. A ripple of conversation went round the room.The boys were quite won by this unusual appeal to their generosity andsympathy. Billy Wendell called them sharply to order. “Are there anyfurther remarks upon Finch?”
Half a dozen fellows rose one after another, and declared, with acertain amount of feeling and a certain lack of grace, that they agreedwith Deering, and that they thought Finch ought to be elected. Jimmiewanted to speak for Tony’s sake, but he could not quite bring himselfto do so. In his heart he agreed with Kit that Tony’s judgment onthis occasion was mistaken, and that were Finch elected it would notaccomplish for him what Tony so generously hoped. There was a pauseafter good-natured Clayton had uttered a few stuttering sentimentalremarks. Then Kit Wilson rose up quickly. His face was flushed, heseemed nervous, but there were lines of dogged determination about hismouth.
“Mr. Chairman,” he said, “we have all been moved by the eloquenceof our popular president. I want to say, however, that I feel verystrongly that the considerations that should guide us in this affairare not those of sentiment or of personal friendship. I think, Mr.Chairman, that the president of this Society has no right to ask us tovote for a fellow on his nomination as a personal favor to himself. Theargument that it is up to us to give Finch a better show in the schoolthan he’s had, by electing him to this Society is no doubt generous,but it is sentimental. I agree with Mr. Deering that we should doeverything in our power to make Finch’s life a pleasanter and a happierone than it probably has been. I do not think, however, that to do thisit is necessary to elect him to the Dealonian Society, the membershipof which is supposed to be made up of those who really represent thevarious activities of the school. I sincerely trust he will not beelected.”
With that he sat down, and some one immediately called for a vote. TheDealonian voted on membership by roll call, the secretary reading thenames and the boys responding _Placet_ or _Non Placet_, as the casemight be. To Tony’s surprise boy after boy voted in the affirmative.Tack Turner, one of “the crowd,” was the first to blackball, but afterhim the voting again was favorable. Wilson’s name was the last called.“Non Placet,” he said quietly, without looking up.
“The name is rejected,” said Wendell, and resigned the chair.
The meeting went on, several other names were proposed and accepted.After the adjournment, Tony, bitterly disappointed not in the result,which he had feared, but by the means it had been obtained, avoidedspeaking with his friends, and hurried out. In the corridor hecame face to face with Kit. Their eyes met, and Tony’s lip curledcontemptuously. “Well,” he exclaimed sarcastically, “you weresuccessful, weren’t you!”
Kit stared back with a dark scowl on his good-looking, usually kindlyface. “I did as I thought right,” he answered.
Tony smiled with a look of insulting incredulity. “Let me congratulateyou on your sense of duty.” Then he hurried on to his own room, andfell to work with self-deceptive industry at his books.