A Boy Knight Part 15

"Mother is proud of her boy to hear him talk that way. I'm so glad that you're not angry with poor Father Boone--it is hard on him."

"Maybe I would be, mother, if I did not know him so well."

A great load was off Frank's mind and the tension was gone. Nothing could matter now. He could face anything and everything. He realized that, at most, only a few days would intervene before Bill Daly would clear up the mystery.

(V)

When Father Boone left Mrs. Mulvy and Frank, he had indeed troublesome thoughts for companion. The conviction that Frank knew a good deal about the matter was now absolutely sure. Evidently, also, the boy was in some way implicated in a conspiracy of silence. His whole appearance showed that he was holding back something and that he was doing so reluctantly.

His complete collapse indicated a great interior struggle. It also showed that the boy was naturally high-minded and n.o.ble. For otherwise, he never would have broken down, as he did.

But what was holding him back? Why should he fear to trust the director?

He found no answer to free him from his quandary. He would gladly settle the whole matter, and regard the affair closed, if he considered only his own feelings. But his duty to the boys must not be shirked because it caused present pain to himself or others. "Better to have a tooth pulled," he said, "than to have it the source of future trouble."

When Father Boone entered his room, he found several letters on his desk. They were mostly Church matters. But one was different. It was on better quality of stationery than the ordinary. The envelope and the paper bore a monogram. Opening it, he found these lines:

Dear Father Boone:

I want to thank you for all your kindness to John.

Enclosed is a little contribution for the Club.

Hereafter, it will be impossible for John to attend the Club meetings, and so I request you to drop his name from membership.

Sincerely yours, Julia Harkins.

(Mrs. John Harkins.)

To Rev. Jerome Boone, S. J.

John Harkins resigned from the Club!... Anyone who knew Father Boone's ideas about the Club would have understood at once what this resignation meant to him. Mrs. Harkins' letter didn't explain why it was "impossible for John to attend the Club" but it was clearly written between the lines. John Harkins was a boy enjoying exceptional home advantages and his refinement, manliness and social standards made him just the type to give "tone" to the Club.

Mrs. Harkins was rightly very careful of the a.s.sociations her son formed, and Father Boone had been her guarantee that in the Club John would mingle with perhaps poor, but good and manly boys. Evidently rumors of the affair had reached her.

"The Club is discredited! The director has been asleep. c.o.c.kle in the field. And here I am sitting and allowing the weeds to grow and the wheat to be choked. I will get to the bottom of this at once. With the Club's name in question, I am certainly justified in drastic action--in probing the matter directly. I will send for Mulvy right away. I should have done it long ago."

In answer to his summons, Frank was on hand a half hour ahead of time that evening, but not ahead of Father Boone. He went straight to the director's office and found him engaged at his desk.

"Sit down, Frank," the priest began, as he stopped work. "I am going to get right down to business. I am speaking to you as an official of the Club. The Club is being discredited. The parish is filled with reports and rumors. I am being discredited. Look at that letter. Things have gone too far. Heretofore, I have not asked you any questions on this matter because your duty was plain. I wanted you to perform it like a man, unsolicited. You have not done it, I regret to say, and now I must question you like the others. The welfare of the Club is at stake, and its fitness for carrying on its work, imperiled. Decent parents won't want their boys to belong. It is abroad in the parish that rowdyism is rampant here. I want to nail the nasty rumor, and place it where it belongs. There is an explanation, and I want you to help me get it.

Frank Mulvy, did you have a hand in the wreckage wrought in the Club the other night? Answer me _yes_ or _no_."

"No, Father."

"Do you know anything about it?"

"That I cannot answer, Father."

"You cannot answer! You cannot answer! Do you mean to say that you refuse to do your duty? Cannot! What do you mean, sir?"

In an agitated voice, Frank replied, "Father, I cannot say any more, except to add that I am doing what you yourself have always inculcated."

"Neglect of duty! Explain yourself, sir."

"Not neglect of duty, Father, but regard for honor. You have always held that up to us, along with our religion, and it is honor now that makes me decline to say more. I will answer any questions about myself or anything that I can answer by official knowledge, and take the consequences. More I cannot say."

"And more I do not want you to do, Frank. But tell me, why did you not at least inform me of the wreckage; that was official?"

"Father, I did not know of that until recently."

"What, do you mean to say that all that terrible row occurred, and that it's out all over the parish, and you, the chief official of the Club at the time, did not know of it?"

"Father," declared Frank, in trembling tones, "I know it all looks bad, all the appearances are against me, I have only my word and character to stand by me."

"It is your character that has stood by you till now, sir. Were you not Mulvy, I had acted differently. But it is because you are Mulvy that I have trusted, until the Club and its director are discredited. But what's the matter, boy?"

For of a sudden, Frank had turned white. He swayed a moment, but Father Boone caught him in his arms, laid him gently on the floor. It took but a dash of cold water to fully restore him, and for a moment he just stared into the face of the priest. Then Father Boone noticed how his color rushed back and his jaws set and he realized that the boy was suffering keen mental anguish. It came to him that there was something most unusual and extraordinary about the whole thing.

After a bit Frank said in a voice choked with emotion, "I know you have suffered, Father, and that has hurt me." He could say no more but after a little, he began again. "At first, I did not know anything about the matter, and when I did know, I could not speak. I wish I could clear the matter up, but I cannot do so honorably, and I know you don't want me to do it dishonorably."

The priest patted him on the back and told him to do what was right and not to think of consequences. "And as you consider silence the right thing now, I do not wish you to do otherwise than as you are doing."

"Thank you, Father," replied Frank. "But please--I am true to you."

"Yes, I know," answered the priest, "but it's all a mystery, nevertheless, and it must be solved, and," he added vigorously, "it shall be solved."

Frank went below. The priest closed the door, and fell into a brown study. "What am I to do?" he reflected. "This thing must be nailed. But how?"

He was not looking for boys to punish, but for the solution of the problem, and the clearing of the good name of the Club. Taking out a large sheet of paper, he wrote in big letters for the notice board in the library reading room:

"Boys of St. Leonard's Club:

This is an appeal to the boys who have the good name of the Club, and their own at heart. I want no boy to tell on another. But I do request that the perpetrators of that act of wanton destruction declare themselves to me at once. You know my ways, and that I am the first to make every allowance and to see fair play. I await in the office a response to this notice this very night.

Jerome Boone."

The first boy to read the notice was Ned Mullen. "Whew!" he exclaimed, with a long whistle. He ran into the games-room, "Hey, fellows, see what's up--some notice--riot act!"

At first they paid no attention to him, saying merely, "Quit your guying, kid."

But as he shouted out, "Frank, Tom, d.i.c.k, come see the board, a real live circus is in town," they all dropped their games, and trooped into the reading room.

"Gee!" was the exclamation from every throat.

"That's news."

"What row is that?"

"Wanton destruction!"

"That sounds good."