'As Gold in the Furnace' Part 10

It is more than probable that under the same circ.u.mstances you and I, and a hundred others, if we ever had a spark of boy nature, or boy feeling about us, would have done the same, and not thought it derogatory either.

Mr. Shalford, putting his hand on Roy's shoulder in a kindly way, said:

"What is wrong, Roy? What has happened? Your friends do not want to see you in this way."

The poor boy raised his head from his arm.

"It's gone. The money's gone. My character is ruined!"

"That is not so, my boy. Be sensible. No one in his senses will ever accuse you. How much was taken?"

"All, sir, except seven dollars in my pocket."

"But how much?"

"Seventy-two dollars."

"Dear me! dear me! Seventy-two dollars! Why did you keep so large a sum in a place like this, Roy?"

"If I had a particle of common-sense I would have taken Bracebridge's advice long ago. He recommended putting it away safely two weeks ago, but I forgot to do it. What a fool I was--fool! fool!"

"Don't say that, my boy. Come, cheer up. There is not a shadow of moral wrong for you in the whole affair. It's a misfortune for you, truly. You can bear that bravely. We may catch the thief yet."

"Yes; but, sir, I shall be suspected. Many fellows will point the finger at me. Oh!--oh! I think I had better go home and give up all my plans."

Give up all his plans! In the bitterness of his heart he thought that all was ruined, that the secret hopes of a vocation were now irretrievably lost, character gone, opportunities wasted. Well, Roy Henning was not the first and will not be the last of those who, when sudden misfortune comes, grow exceedingly pessimistic and want to give up. This was the first great grief of Roy's life. All the petty annoyances he had suffered from Garrett and his undesirable clique sank into insignificance in the face of this overwhelming calamity.

Oh, why had he not followed Bracebridge's advice, and, days ago, put the money out of his own keeping!

"Yes," he said again, "I think I had better leave----"

"No, no, no, no, Roy!" came the chorus from his friends.

"If you do so, now, Roy," said Mr. Shalford, who motioned silence to the others, "you make the mistake of your life. You give your enemies--I mean those ill-disposed toward you, if there are any--a free field, and unlimited opportunities to vilify you. You can not, you must not go."

"But I must."

"No, no, you must not, Roy."

"But I must, sir. Oh, I can't stand it!"

"Well, if you must, think over your friends' sorrow at such a course."

"Sir?" asked the bewildered boy, not at all understanding.

"I say, think of our sorrow, your friend's sorrow at such a step. And, Roy, think of your mother's sorrow! A son with a blighted name! Don't you see that by running away now you make a tacit confession of some guilt? No, you must not go!"

Long ago Mr. Shalford had surmised what were Henning's intentions and aspirations for a future career. He saw this affair would be an occasion of trying the very soul of the boy before him, and that it would either make or break him. He thought, and correctly, that he knew the character of the youth now in such deep trouble, and he was anxious that he should make no false step. He looked Roy straight in the eye, and said seriously:

"Definitely, you must not go," and then, as calmly as he had spoken before, he made use of a somewhat enigmatic expression: "Eagles live on mountain heights where storms are strongest."

A quick glance from Henning told the prefect that the boy understood him, and the saying also told the boy that the prefect had divined his intention accurately. Mr. Shalford had thought the words and the glance would be understood by himself and Henning only. In this he was mistaken. Two boys, who had overheard Roy's words to the chaplain at the Little Sisters, understood perfectly.

"Very well, sir. I stay," said Roy.

"That is right; that is sensible," said Mr. Shalford, but in a moment Henning burst out, with an agony in his voice that was piteous:

"Oh, the shame of being suspected! What shall I do! What shall I do!"

"Let me think what is best to do," said Mr. Shalford, who walked up and down the room once or twice. He realized that it was a critical moment in Henning's life, and he wanted to gain a little time. He decided that it was wisest to get Henning away from the scene of his misfortune at least for a few hours.

"What you will do now is this, all of you. You--Henning, Bracebridge, Beecham, and Shealey, will go out at once for a long tramp, buy your dinners somewhere, and do not come home till dark. Have you plenty of money?"

"Yes, sir; yes, sir, lots of it," answered the delighted three who were not in trouble.

"I don't think----" began the despondent Henning.

"That's right; just now do not think," said the energetic prefect. "It will do no good. Walk and talk instead. Come home tired out, all of you."

Three out of the group were enthusiastic over the plan. But there were two other very long faces just then. George McLeod and Ernest Winters were not included in the generous proposal.

"I say, Mr. Shalford, may not the kids come, too?" asked Tom Shealey.

"The kids! Whom do you mean?" and the prefect turned and saw two very disconsolate faces. He thought for a moment.

"Let--me--see. Records clear, Ernest? George?"

"Yes, sir," answered the two, their hopes rising.

"How were your notes in the Christmas compet.i.tions?"

"Pretty good, sir, eighty-two," answered Ernest.

"Fine, sir, mine were eighty-nine," answered McLeod for himself.

In the meantime Mr. Shalford had caught Henning's eye. By a slight raising of his eyelids he wordlessly inquired if the company of these smaller boys would be acceptable. Roy answered by an almost imperceptible affirmative movement of the head.

"Very well, then," the prefect said, "I suppose you both may go, too, but it's only another weakness on my part, letting small boys out all day. You big boys must take care of them."

"Whoop!" shouted Ernest vociferously, and even the disconsolate Henning smiled at Ernest's resemblance in voice and manner to Claude, his brother, especially under stress of any pleasurable excitement.

"Of course I will set about investigating this money matter at once,"

resumed Mr. Shalford, "and you six here had better keep the whole matter a secret, at least for a time."

This injunction was useless. The prefect, this time, had reckoned without his host. At his own exclamation of surprise at the discovery of the theft, several boys who were in the large playroom, crowded around the door, un.o.bserved by the prefect, whose back was toward them. Already the fact was known in the yard to some extent. Already had little excited groups begun to discuss the startling event.

CHAPTER X