From School to Battle-field Part 7

Brodrick thought so, but couldn't be sure. He had "grabbed his cap and run." "They were all rushing down from the English department up-stairs."

Halsey's dark face was very dark now. His eyes were full of doubt and dread. "I want you to be very careful of what you say, Briggs, and to say nothing to anybody of what you have said." And while they were still in conference steps were heard upon the stairs, and presently in came the two pony members of the First Latin, Prime and Beekman, and Prime was a sight to behold.

"What on earth have you been doing with yourself?" queried Halsey, as he half turned and looked the youngster over from head to foot. Shorty's clothes were wet and bedraggled, his face smudged with soot, but his eyes sparkling with life and animation. He had not looked so much like his old self since Lawton's disappearance.

"Had 28's pipe, sir, the last hour," said the boy, with a grin of pride.

"They were only pumping easy to soak down the ruins, and their fellows were tired out and let me and Julian have it."

"Where's Julian?"

"Gone home, sir. He's wet through."

"So are you, but--don't go just yet. That's all, you others," said Halsey, whereat the three slowly vanished, leaving only the janitor staring at the door.

"Go out and shut that door, and keep it shut," said Halsey, shortly, to the open-mouthed servitor, and then he turned on the boy, now warming his hands at the big stove. "Prime," said he, "you were with me at the desk when that alarm came. What became of you? What did you do?"

"I, sir? I went like a streak for 61."

"At once, do you mean?--right after the cla.s.s ran after me into Mr.

Meeker's room?"

"_Before_ the cla.s.s ran after you," said Shorty, with an injured air. No fireman would waste so many valuable seconds. "I was down-stairs and out of the school before they were fairly off the benches."

"How could you get your cap, sir?"

"Didn't take it, sir! I ran bare-headed to Twenty-sixth Street, hoping to be the first to give 'em a still before I saw 'em coming."

"Give them a still! What's that?"

"A still alarm, sir. Give them a tip to the fire. But it must have been going some minutes. They were spinning down the avenue by the time I got half-way. Then I came back for my cap, and school was coming out."

"Did you speak to any of them? What boys saw you coming back?" asked Halsey, thoughtfully.

"Oh, I don't know, sir," answered the youngster. "Everybody was excited, I suppose, but me. I've always run to fires since I was knee-high. They were all shouting. You were just coming out of Mr. Meeker's room, and I nearly ran into you."

"Do you mean you ran to Twenty-sixth Street and back in that time?"

"_More_'n that, sir. I ran half-way to Twenty-seventh and out into the street and grabbed hold of 61's rope. There were only six or seven fellows on her, and I ran with 'em to the corner hydrant."

Something of the master's trouble was now reflecting in the pupil's face. Something in the minuteness of Halsey's questioning suggested graver trouble. "I hope nothing's wrong, sir," said Prime, anxiously.

"I know I oughtn't to have run when I did without permission, but--we don't have a fire next door every day."

Halsey rose and placed the long, lean hand on the little fellow's shoulder. Two years and more he had known him. He and "Tut" had given him the first touches in Latin and Greek, and, as head-master, Halsey had had many an occasion to reprove or reprimand, for high spirits or mischief led to many a sc.r.a.pe, yet there was kindness, there was even a touch of tenderness, in the master's tone as he answered.

"Perhaps you ought not to have run when you did," said he, "but, as it is, I'm thankful."

And Shorty could have sworn Oth.e.l.lo's swarthy hand was trembling.

Two minutes later the master had taken the names of two of 61's men who were on the rope when Shorty joined them. Then, bidding him say nothing of this conversation to any schoolmate until after the Doctor's coming on the morrow, Halsey bade him hurry home and get a rub-down and dry clothes. As Shorty turned to the rack for his overcoat a sudden thought struck the master.

"Where was the letter written--Lawton's letter--that you took to the Doctor this morning?"

"It didn't say, sir. It was postmarked Bridgeport, but--that don't prove anything. Somebody else could have put it in for him there."

Jerking the overcoat from its peg and tossing it carelessly over his arm, something bright came spinning out of the pocket, bounded to the floor, and rolled in easy circle up in front of the master's table, where it struck a crack, spun on edge a second, and then settled with a metallic buzz and bur-r-r, and then lay still and shining opposite the middle bench. Halsey started and stared, with a gleam in his eyes.

Shorty, surprised, sped after it, stooped and picked it up, then held it between his thumb and forefinger, gazing at it in astonishment. "Why, Mr. Halsey," he cried, "it's a ten-dollar gold piece!"

"Yes," said Halsey, "I know. See if there are any more."

CHAPTER XII.

When school rea.s.sembled the following day the First Latin knew to a man by nine o'clock that the cause of Shorty's "late" the previous day was a letter from Lawton. Warned by Jim Hulker that the rector had taken Hoover to the Clarendon, Briggs scouted miserably down the avenue on their trail, filled with no one knew what nervous apprehension of trouble to come, and, dodging in at the office a moment later, ascertained from a bell boy that they had gone into a parlor on the second floor. Briggs knew what that meant. The Doctor was cross-questioning his sullen pupil, and there were all manner of things Hoover might be driven into confessing if closely and scientifically pressed, and what might that not mean for Briggs? Not five minutes later, down they came, the Doctor erect, stately, and deliberate as ever, Hoover slinking wretchedly alongside. A carriage had been called, and into this Hoover was practically hustled by his preceptor, and together they were driven away towards Fourteenth Street, and Briggs was left behind. They were going to see Hoover's father, was the apparent explanation, and it boded ill. A ten-minute walk took Briggs over to the house of the Metamora. The hose carriage had just returned, and was being washed. The Hulkers had dropped off at a certain billiard-hall, said one of the firemen, and thither sped Briggs. It was a resort much frequented by certain of the Columbia students in those days, and there were a dozen or more scattered about the big room at the moment. Over in a corner, whispering together, were the two Hulkers with a brace of followers. Over against them, across the room, ostensibly--even ostentatiously--engaged in a game of billiards, were Joy and Julian, and all the little pluck that Briggs had left went oozing out of his finger-tips at the sight. Quickly he slunk back into the vestibule and crouched there, peering through the glazed doors, uncertain what to do. A bar-boy, coming up from below at the moment with cigars and mixed drinks on a tray, found him peering in through the crack, and knew him at once.

"Sa-ay," whispered Briggs, the moment he discovered who had come. "Tell Mr. Hulker I want to speak to him out here a minute, will you?"

The boy looked hard at him, made no reply, went deliberately in with his tray-load, deposited the gla.s.ses on little tables near the big ones, where a jovial party of Columbians were playing, collected his pay, counted it carefully over, then with exaggerated impudence of manner dawdled over to where the Hulker set were in eager conference in their corner, and said something to them. Briggs saw, and so did Joy and Julian, the backward toss of the head, the over-the-shoulder jerk of the thumb towards the entrance, saw the four young fellows start and glance questioningly thither; then presently, hands in pockets and head in air, Hulker major came sauntering out, just as Julian caught sight of a carroty head ducking behind the framework of the doorway.

"There's that sneak Briggs now," he quickly whispered to his chum. "What are those fellows planning, do you s'pose?"

There was a brief confabulation in the hallway without, and then back came Hulker,--no loitering now,--said a word or two to his fellows, and the four picked up their canes and overcoats and started for the door.

The bar-boy went running after them.

"I'll pay you to-morrow," Hulker major answered, impatiently; and Julian heard it. The boy was importunate, and glanced at the desk. The clerk came out from behind his barricade.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hulker, but the manager left strict orders that that account must be settled before you could be served again. You told the boy you would settle everything before you left, and to get those cigars. Now, I've got to take the money out of the till and pay for 'em if you don't."

Angrily, and with ugly words, the elder Hulker turned on the clerk. "I haven't any money just now, I tell you. We've been at that fire all the morning. It's too late to get a check cashed. I'll bring you the money to-night, Billy, I'll swear to----"

But the controversy was cut short by the sudden entrance of the manager himself. He was a man who prided himself on the "respectability" of his place. Order and decorum were things he insisted on. Even the mildest of sherry-cobblers, for which the bar was famous, was forbidden to the student or youth who showed the faintest symptom of over-stimulation.

Case-hardened politicians and men about town avoided Martigny's, for the reason that they could never get enough there. Student trade was something he catered to only so long as it came through the well-bred and well-behaved of their number. The Hulker set he much disapproved of and had frequently cautioned, but money was an object, and for a time those young fellows had it and spent it in abundance. Of late there had come a change. Something had occurred to limit their supplies, and within a month they had run up bills at every neighboring bar or billiard-room where they could get credit, and now Martigny, after thrice presenting his account, had drawn the line. Quietly but firmly he told the elder that that bill must be settled then and there or it would be sent by a messenger to his mother at once. It was impossible for the players at the tables not to hear what was going on. There were sly winks and quizzical glances. Columbiads, old or young, fought shy of the Hulkers, but even they were unprepared for the scene that followed.

"I haven't got a cent with me, Johnny," protested the elder, while the others crowded about in indignant chorus. "I swear I'll fetch it to you to-night, or in two hours, if you must have it."

"You've sworn to the same effect twice before, Mr. Hulker," said the manager, calmly, "and I cannot trust you. I was down in the bar-room when your orders came for this round of drinks and cigars, and the boy declared that you showed him gold, and declared further that you'd settle the whole account. It's fourteen dollars and seventy-five cents, and I want that money now."

"It ain't mine, Johnny. It was given me for a particular purpose,"

protested Hulker. "That was just bluffing. I didn't think he'd take it in earnest."

"But he did, Mr. Hulker, and so did I, and so will your mother when my messenger gets there ten minutes from now. Get your coat, Mr. Tracy," he said, turning to his a.s.sistant. "I'll send you around with the message.

That's all, gentlemen. I won't detain you further than to say that you will not be allowed in this room hereafter."

"Sa-ay, stop! Hold on!" cried Hulker. "Here, I'll--I'll pay it now. But of all the dash, dash, dashed mean----"

"No bad language, Mr. Hulker," said Martigny, calmly. "A special policeman is at the door." He glanced at the coin tendered by the trembling hand of the leader. "Give Mr. Hulker five dollars and twenty-five cents," said he, calmly, to the desk. "There's a friend of yours peeking in at the door. You might inquire now what he wants." And with unruffled civility the manager led the way to the door, closed it after the crestfallen quartette, and came back thoughtfully c.h.i.n.king the coins, just as Joy and Julian, laying aside their cues, hurried to the desk to pay for their game.