'As Gold in the Furnace' Part 29

"Let's be off, then," said Roy.

Both made a grab simultaneously at Roy's suitcase.

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do," answered Ambrose, keeping hold of it. They both tugged for a moment or two, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of two ladies in an opposite train who burst out into merry laughter at the friendly contest.

Warm greetings awaited Roy in the carriage. After the welcoming was over, and the delicate condolences tendered, Roy leaned over to Gill's ear and whispered something. Whatever the whispering was about it ended by Roy putting his finger over his lips as an admonition to remain silent.

The information conveyed to Gill must have been of a startling nature for he immediately proceeded to behave as if he were suffering from a fit. He threw up his heels into Bracebridge's lap, clutched the carriage strap with one hand and Beecham's coat collar by the other, and began to scream at the top of his voice. Roy held his sides at the other's antics. Ambrose guessed the cause of Gill's jubilation, but Jack Beecham was quite in the dark.

"Here! take this maniac off, or I'll soon be a physical wreck," he shouted.

"By the way, Ambrose," asked Henning, "what is the great news you wired you had for me? But first how did the great game come off?"

Then all three in their enthusiasm began to talk at once and independently of each other. Each described what he considered the beauties and fine points of the game.

In the midst of this jumble of words, from which Roy managed to pick out a deal of information about the game, the carriage drove into the college grounds.

The prefect at once hurried the four into the infirmary building where a somewhat elaborate breakfast had been prepared for them.

"Get along, boys. Clear out now. These boys are hungry. You can see Roy after breakfast. There is plenty of time to hear all the news, if he has any to tell. Now, John, let no boy into the infirmary this morning without my permission."

"All right, Mr. Shalford. I'll keep them out, sure enough," answered the kind old fellow who attended to the wants of the sick. This time he was as good as his word, for as soon as the four were fairly inside he shut the door and locked it.

During the breakfast--such a breakfast the infirmarian explained he had to get up once in a while to keep his hand in for convalescents who had to be coaxed to eat to get strong, an explanation readily admitted by the four--Henning's three friends told him of the wind-storm and of the accident to Stockley. They told him how through Smithers' incoherence of speech they had first believed that Mr.

Shalford had been crushed by the falling oak; how Stockley had been found beneath the branches, and, finally, how when he had returned to semi-consciousness he had uttered some very strange words which might mean nothing at all or a great deal for Henning. Roy, as he gradually learned the full particulars became very much interested and finally intensely excited. Was he going to have the wretched affair of the robbery cleared up at last? Did this boy know who the thief was? Could he point him out? Would he do so? And what if, after all, his suspicions about his own cousin should prove correct!

While he was thus pondering, and listening to his friends' suggestions and information, Mr. Shalford came in.

"Henning," he said, "you may be surprised that I did not let Garrett go to the depot to meet you. The fact is, these rascals here begged so hard that I could not find the heart to refuse them, and you know that the old-fashioned carriage will only hold four. To make amends I will send Garrett to you at once. He has asked several times to be allowed to come in, but I refused until you had finished your breakfast."

A minute later Andrew Garrett entered, holding out his hand in sympathy to Roy, as he walked across the room. There was a wonderful change in the boy. He looked better than he had looked for months. The blotches and disfiguring pimples had disappeared. Healthy food, regular meals, and being much out of doors had effected that. But there was a change of countenance as well as of face. There was a look of candor not usually seen there of late. The eyes were steady and had lost much of their restlessness. There was at this moment a gratifying air about Garrett which plainly indicated that he wanted to repair any injustice and wrong which he had formerly done to his cousin.

Henning was very much puzzled at the change, which was more apparent to him than to the others who witnessed the meeting.

"Poor little cousin Ethel. Oh, Roy, I'm so sorry. She was such a charming child!"

Roy looked at him in surprise. Could this be the boy who had done him so much injury and had kept the secret all these months? What to make of the tone, the evident look of candor, the change in Garrett, Roy did not know. Sensible fellow as he was, he made the most of it, judging that if the present meeting were merely a piece of good acting on Andrew's part, he would sooner or later find out the true state of affairs. So he offered his hand to Garrett and it was pressed with genuine sympathy.

"And how does Aunty bear the shock?"

Roy told him.

"And mother? Did you see my mother?"

"I did, Andrew, and she grieves quite as much as my mother and father.

She sends her love, and Papa sends this with his kindest regards to his nephew."

Roy gave the sealed envelope, containing the elder Henning's present.

Garrett did not open it at once. He said:

"I have several things I wish to say to you when we are alone. Of course you have heard by this time all about the accident to Stockley?"

He then whispered to Roy:

"There's more behind this than you think. Get rid of these fellows for a little while. I have a lot to say to you."

"I can not just now," Roy whispered back. "You see they are in a way my guests for the present. To send them away would not only offend, but it would be very unkind."

"Very well then; as soon as you can be alone in the yard this morning?"

"All right."

Garrett then joined in the general conversation around the breakfast table. Roy was much puzzled. He could not understand Andrew at all.

Never during the whole time that Garrett had been with him at St.

Cuthbert's had he acted in so cousinly a manner. Roy wondered whether the change had been brought about by Ethel's death. Yet unless Andrew was playing a much deeper game than his cousin gave him credit for being able to play, his advances--for they were in Roy's estimation distinct advances--were genuine. He gave up the problem as too hard of solution--and waited.

His cogitations were soon cut short. The physician came down stairs from his morning visit to the injured boy.

"No, I do not think the boy will die," they heard him remark to the infirmarian, "I am sure he will not, although he thinks he is going to. He'll be all right in a few weeks. What? I told you last night--two ribs and his arm."

"Can he see any one?" asked the infirmarian.

"He had better be kept quiet for a few days. By the way, he said something about wanting to see a Troy, or a Joy, or some such name--and some one else. Who was it, Denning, Heming, Henning--some such name."

"It's all one person, doctor. It's Roy Henning he wants to see. May he see him?"

"Yes, I think it would be better to let him see this boy as soon as he wishes. There appears to be something important that he has to say which he wants to get off his mind. Yes, let him see this boy--a chum of his, I suppose. Perhaps it will do him good. Can not do any harm."

"A chum of his! Ugh!" said Roy, _sotto voce_. There was really so comical a look of disgust on his face that the other boys, who were watching him closely, burst out laughing. The infirmarian came in:

"The doctor says ye can see the one with a broken arm, though what he do be wantin' ye for, I dunno. It's sorry I am to be hearing ye lost your sister, Master Roy, an' sure the Lord'll be having mercy on her."

"Thank you very much, for your kind wishes."

His friends now left him, wishing him all sorts of success in the interview. He thanked them, but did not go upstairs. Instead, he went to the window and looked out as if expecting some one. Some time later his friends were surprised to see him still standing there. Mr.

Shalford thought that by this time the interview must be nearly over.

He, too, was surprised to see Henning gazing out of the breakfast-room window. The prefect went over to him.

"Why are you not talking with Stockley?" he asked rather sharply.

"For two reasons, sir. I am a little nervous at present. You know how much depends for me on what that boy will say. I want to be cool, so I am waiting a little while. Secondly, I do not intend to go there alone."

"Not go alone! Why! What do you mean? Are you afraid?"

"No, sir. But if this fellow should, and somehow I think he can, say something to exculpate me, what good would his statement, or perhaps admission, be to me without witnesses? I should be just where I was before."