The Jester of St. Timothy's Part 17

Irving went up to him.

"I congratulate you on your shooting, Westby," he said. "It seems quite wonderful to a man who never fired a gun off but a few times in his life-and then it was a revolver, with blank cartridges."

Westby looked at him coolly. "It's funny you've never done anything that most fellows do," he observed. "Were you always afraid of hurting yourself?"

"I was offering my congratulations, Westby," said Irving stiffly, and walked away.

"Why did you go at him like that?" asked Carroll, who had heard the interchange.

"Oh," said Westby, "I wasn't going to have him hanging round swiping to me, soft-soaping me."

"I think he was only trying to be decent," said Carroll.

"I like a man who is decent without trying," Westby retorted.

Yet whether his nerves were a little upset by the episode or his eye thrown off by the wait, Westby did not do so well in the next round. The trap was set to send the birds skimming lower and faster; Westby missed two out of ten, and was tied for first place with Carroll. And in the final shoot to break the tie, Westby lost.

He shook hands with Carroll, but with no excess of good humor. He knew he was really the better shot, and even though Carroll was his closest friend, the defeat rankled.

At supper Blake congratulated Carroll across the table.

"You won, did you, Carroll?" asked Irving.

"Yes, sir-by a close shave."

"I'm sorry I didn't stay to see it." The remark was innocent in intention, but to Westby it seemed edged with malice-as if the master was exulting over his defeat.

Something in Westby's expression told Irving what the boy had inferred; Irving went afterwards to his room in a despondent mood. It didn't matter how hard he tried or what he did; he had not the faculty of winning and holding affection and respect. As it was with boys, so it would be with men. If only he could see how and why he failed, and could learn to correct his mistakes!

He felt of more importance in the School world when a letter from Lawrence was the first announcement that the Freshman eleven would come to play St. Timothy's. He asked Collingwood if he had had any word, and when Collingwood said no, he told him his brother's message.

"I don't believe there can be any mistake," said Irving. "He writes that it was decided only the night before. You'll probably receive the official communication in a day or two."

Collingwood was tremendously elated. "I knew we were better than Lakeview-but I was afraid they wouldn't realize it," he said. "Now we'll have to get ready and beat them. Anyway, if we can't do that, it will be the best kind of preparation for the St. John's game."

The official communication arrived; Collingwood rushed with it to the bulletin board in the Study building and posted it for all eyes to see.

The same day he posted the School eleven, as it would line up in that game.

Westby was to be first subst.i.tute for Dennison at right half back.

Westby had been playing a streaky game on the First Corinthians; on some days he was as brilliant a runner and tackler as there was in the School, and on other days he would lose interest and miss everything.

If he was disappointed at the preference given to Dennison, he did not show it; in fact, that he appeared on the list as subst.i.tute seemed to fill him with elation. He had never taken football quite so seriously as some of the others-as Collingwood and Dennison, for example; and therefore only a moderate success in it was for him a matter of gratification.

The training table was organized at once, but Westby was not admitted to it. There was not room for the subst.i.tutes; they were expected to do their own training. Westby was notoriously lax in that matter and had to be nagged constantly by Collingwood, whom he found some pleasure in teasing.

He would secure some forbidden article of food and ostentatiously appear to be eating it with the greatest enjoyment until he caught Collingwood's eye; a large circular doughnut or a chocolate eclair delicately poised between his thumb and finger were his favorite instruments for torturing his captain's peace of mind. He would contrive to be seen just as he was on the point of taking the first bite; then he would reluctantly lay the tidbit down.

"It's a hard life, this being a near athlete," he grumbled. "Sitting at a table with a lot of uncongenial pups like you fellows.-Mr. Upton, Blake's kicking me; make him quit, sir.-Not allowed to eat half the things the rest of you do, and not allowed either to get any of the training-table grub. Well, I never did think of self, so I can endure it better than most."

The others jeered. But Westby, however he might complain, was faithful at practice and accepted good-naturedly his position upon the second eleven, and the hard battering to which every one on the second eleven was subjected.

The day when he got round Morrill, the first eleven's left end, and scored a touchdown-the only one which in that week of practice the second eleven scored-brought him so much applause that he began really to think there might be a chance of his ousting Dennison from the regular position. When that notion entered his head he ceased to be facetious about the training; he became suddenly as serious as Collingwood himself. But in spite of that, he remained Dennison's subst.i.tute.

The Sat.u.r.day set for the game with the Harvard Freshmen was an Indian Summer day. In the early morning mist wreathed the low meadows and the edges of the pond; it seemed later to dissipate itself through all the windless air in haze. The distant hills were blue and faint, the elms in the soft sunlight that filtered down had a more golden glow.

"Great day," was the salutation that one heard everywhere; "great day for the game."

Now and then in his morning cla.s.ses Irving's thoughts would wander, there would be a gentle rush of excitement in his veins. He would turn his mind firmly back to his work; he did not do any less well that day because his heart was singing happily.

In three hours more-in two-in one-he was going to see Lawrence again; he wondered if he would find his brother much changed. Only two months had pa.s.sed since they had parted; yet in that time how remote Lawrence had grown in Irving's eyes from the Lawrence of the Ohio farm!

The bell announcing the noon recess rang; Irving dismissed his last cla.s.s. He hurried down the stairs almost as madly as the Fourth Formers themselves; the train on which the Harvard Freshmen were coming was due ten minutes before; already Lawrence and the others must have started on the two-mile drive out to the School.

In front of the Study building most of the older boys and many of the younger were congregated, awaiting the arrival of the visitors. Irving walked about among the groups impatiently, now and then looking at his watch. He pa.s.sed Westby and Collingwood, who were standing together by the gate.

"Pretty nearly time for them, Mr. Upton," said Westby. "Feeling nervous, sir?"

There was more good nature in his smile than he had displayed towards Irving since the day of the track games.

"A little," Irving admitted, and at that moment some one shouted, "Here they come!"

Over the crest of the hill galloped four horses, drawing a long red barge crowded with boys. Collingwood climbed up on the gate-post.

"Now, fellows," he said, "when they get here, give three times three for the Freshmen."

The boys waited in silence. Irving strained his eyes, trying to distinguish the figures huddled together in the barge. The horses came down at a run, with a rattle of hoofs and harness; the driver flourished his whip over them spectacularly.

"Now then, fellows!" cried Collingwood. "Three times three for the Freshmen!"

And amidst the waving of caps as the cheers were given, Irving could see no one in the barge. Then when that cheer had subsided, one of the visitors stood up and took off his hat and shouted,-

"Three times three for St. Timothy's! One-two-three!" The fellows in the barge sent up a vigorous, snappy cheer, and then overflowed at back and sides. In the confusion and the crowd, Irving was still straining his short-sighted eyes in a vain attempt to discover Lawrence.

Suddenly he heard a shout,-"h.e.l.lo, Irv!"-and there, a little way off, was Lawrence, laughing at him and struggling towards him through the throng. The boys understood and drew apart and let the two brothers meet.

"It's great to see you again, Irv," said Lawrence, when he could reach and grasp his brother's hand; he looked at Irving with the same old loving humor in his eyes.

"It's great to see you again, Lawrence," said Irving. He could not help being a little conscious and constrained, with so many eyes upon him.

He tucked one hand in his brother's arm and with the other reached for Lawrence's bag. Lawrence laughed, and with hardly an effort detached it from Irving's grasp.

"_You_ carry that, you little fellow! I guess not," he said.

Some of the boys heard and smiled, and Lawrence threw back at them a humorous smile; Irving blushed. He led Lawrence away, towards the Upper School. The other Freshmen were being conducted in the same direction by Collingwood and his team.

"Well," said Westby to Carroll in an outpouring of slang from the heart, "Kiddy's brother is certainly a peach of a good looker. I hope he'll bring him to lunch."