The Mark of the Knife Part 13

"I had a pretty good reason for not getting to the field before I did,--I am going to tell Mr. Murray and Neil about it later. I haven't much to say regarding the game except that I knew we could win because we had the spirit to do it and because Neil was showing us the way all the time. To play on the eleven which beat a team that fought as hard and as clean as the Jefferson crowd is an honor that makes me dizzy. I began to dream about it a few weeks ago; now that it's come true I can hardly believe it."

Teeny-bits sat down and a few moments later the balloting began to elect a new captain for the Ridgley team. It was Neil Durant's last year and the big leader of the red eleven, before starting the procedure that would result in the choosing of his successor, said to his team-mates:

"It is our custom, as you all know, to choose a football captain at the dinner following the Jefferson game. It has always been done without nominations--simply by balloting. I'll pa.s.s around these slips of paper and I want you to write on them the name of the man who in your opinion, regardless of friendship, will make the leader who will best carry on Ridgley football tradition."

All of the members of the team knew that this was coming, of course, and they took it solemnly and in silence. There were no suggestions pa.s.sed from one to another; each received a paper from the captain, wrote down a name and returned the folded slip to Neil, who made a second round of the big table. The captain turned the ballots over to the coach who quickly unfolded and counted them. When he was through, of the fifteen ballots--one for each member of the team who had played in the big game--fourteen were piled in front of his right hand and one remained in front of his left hand. He whispered a word to Neil Durant who immediately got to his feet and said:

"Fellows, you have elected a _real_ leader; one who has grit and spirit and who always thinks of the team before he thinks of himself, a fellow who does much and says little; Teeny-bits Holbrook is the captain of the Ridgley eleven. In view of the fact that he is the only one here who voted for some one else we'll call it a unanimous election."

Teeny-bits looked from one face to another with such an expression of bewilderment and astonishment that every one knew that he was dazed with surprise. They were all looking at him and he realized that they counted on him to say something. He got up and attempted to fulfil their expectations but he never was quite sure what he said, although he knew that they cheered and yelled and that presently he sat down. Within a few minutes Coach Murray brought the banquet to a close and they all went out to watch the celebration which was already well under way.

The band that had done almost continuous service during the afternoon had been retained and was now engaged in booming out--somewhat raucously and discordantly but nevertheless effectively--the Ridgley songs, princ.i.p.ally the Ridgley victory song. Above the din sounded the _boom_, _boom_ of the ba.s.s drum--not always in time with the music--and the members of the team discovered that Snubby Turner had persuaded the "artist" who wielded the padded sticks to relinquish his noise-producing instruments and that Snubby, at the head of the band, was drumming away to his heart's content and every few seconds giving voice to a yell that expressed his supreme happiness in the outcome of the afternoon's struggle. Every one laughed at Snubby and felt himself inspired by the example to yell louder and contribute with more abandon to the demonstration around the fire.

As Teeny-bits looked at Snubby, he said to himself again that it was impossible that this genial and loyal son of Ridgley was guilty of stealing from members of the school or being in any way connected with the incidents that had contributed to his own former unhappiness. He made up his mind that he would, within the next twenty-four hours, have a talk with Snubby and attempt to arrive at an explanation of the mysterious events which were still puzzling his mind.

Until midnight the red sparks mounted above the tops of the Ridgley maples,--mounted until they seemed to join with the stars that on this crisp autumn night looked down from clear skies upon the scene of revelry.

Only two members of Ridgley School were absent from the celebration and no one at the time missed them,--Tracey Campbell, subst.i.tute left half-back of the football team, and Ba.s.sett, the self-named Western Whirlwind.

Parades and speeches and cheering, torchlight wavering against the white buildings, huge banners held aloft with the stirring figures, 20 to 14, emblazoned in red upon them, and then gradually as the night grew old, a lessening of sound and a dimming of light,--that was the way of Ridgley's festivity. Finally the members of the school made their way back to the white dormitories; the great day was over; the pleasure that remained was the pleasure of retrospection, of thinking over each detail of the victory, of re-living the struggle and of reading the accounts of the game in the newspapers. In those papers the sons of Ridgley were destined to find not only the glowing account of the game, which they knew would greet their eyes, but also news of a startling and unexpected nature.

CHAPTER XI

MYSTERIES IN PART EXPLAINED

On the morning following the Jefferson game, Ridgley School, somewhat stiff after the strenuous hours of struggle and victory, but feeling utterly contented with the world and more than ever convinced that there was no school quite like the one that stood on the hill among the maples, awoke and prepared to settle itself leisurely to the enjoyment of glorious memories. The first person who opened a newspaper intended to undergo the pleasant experience of allowing the lines of printed words to recall to mind the deathless moments of Ridgley accomplishment and triumph. After his eyes had taken in the headlines that announced the victory of the red, however, they were arrested by heavy type that announced a tragedy. Two members of the school had been the victims of an accident and one of them had lost his life. The reporters' story of the occurrence read as follows:

"On Sat.u.r.day afternoon while Ridgley was earning its triumph over Jefferson and while the sounds of cheering echoed across the field, death came to one member of the school and serious injury to another. No one witnessed the tragedy. Mr. Osborne Murchie, while driving along the State road from Greensboro to Springfield yesterday at about three o'clock, came upon a seven-pa.s.senger car which had crashed through the railing and had rolled down the embankment at the beginning of Hairpin Turn and lay at the bottom of the gulch in a demolished condition, with two young men pinned beneath the wreck. With the aid of a friend who accompanied him, Mr. Murchie pried up the car and removed from beneath it the dead body of a young man which was later identified as that of J.

M. Ba.s.sett, a student at Ridgley, whose home is in Denver, Colorado. The other young man, Tracey Campbell, son of the prominent leather dealer, who was unconscious and suffering from severe injuries, was conveyed to the hospital at Greensboro, where it is said that he has a fair chance of recovery.

"There are certain matters in regard to the tragedy that have not yet been explained: first, why on this day when all members of the school were attending the game at Ridgley Field were these two students driving _away_ from the school? No one has been able to tell where the young men were going or how the accident occurred. The a.s.sumption is that while traveling at high speed they attempted to take the sharp turn too swiftly. The machine, which was wrecked beyond repair, belonged to the father of Tracey Campbell."

The news flew from room to room, from dormitory to dormitory, with the rapidity of wireless. It was as if the story had suddenly been blazoned across the clear November sky above the Ridgley campus; in one moment, it seemed, the whole school knew that Whirlwind Ba.s.sett had come to his end under tragic circ.u.mstances and that Tracey Campbell was lying in the Greensboro hospital with an even chance of recovery. It was difficult at first for many a member of Ridgley School to believe that the tragic news was true,--so vivid is life, so unreal seems death. They could not quite imagine Ba.s.sett--Whirlwind Ba.s.sett--lying dead out there at the bottom of Hairpin Gulch.

Certain incidents which previously had seemed quite unworthy of attention now a.s.sumed proportions of importance. A third-year student named Gilmore who had sat in the Ridgley stands beside Ba.s.sett recollected that the self-styled "Whirlwind" had risen from his seat at the start of the game, had made his way out of the stands and had not returned. Fred Harper and one or two others of the Ridgley football subst.i.tutes remembered that Campbell, after coming off the field when Teeny-bits had arrived, had slipped out through the opening under the stands and had not returned. Most of the members of the squad remembered that Campbell had not appeared at the locker building during the rest-period between the halves and recollected that it had occurred to them that he was "playing baby" because of the fact that he had lost his chance to start the game. There seemed to be no sufficient explanation, however, of the simultaneous exit of Ba.s.sett and Campbell. The last person who had seen them, according to rumor, was one of the ticket-takers at the field-gates who said that just after the game began he caught a glimpse of Campbell driving his father's big car down the street toward Hamilton with some one beside him in the front seat.

To certain members of Ridgley School the tragedy served as a last link in a chain of circ.u.mstantial evidence that had gradually been involving Campbell and Ba.s.sett. Among those persons were Neil Durant and Snubby Turner.

On the previous evening Teeny-bits Holbrook had not been so absorbed in the celebration that he had not found time to say to the captain and the coach what he had in his mind. While the sounds of the revelers still rose over the campus the three had gone into Neil Durant's room, and there Teeny-bits had told of the false telephone message, of the struggle in the road, of how his unknown a.s.sailants had carried him away and kept him prisoner, of his fight to escape, of the strange action of his Chinese captors when they discovered the mark of the knife, of his escape and finally of his return to the Holbrook home and his long sleep.

"It sounds like a pretty wild story, I know," he had said to his two friends, "but it's true, every word of it, and I don't know why in the world it all happened or whatever made those Chinamen let me go when they saw my birthmark."

Coach Murray and Neil Durant had readily admitted that they thought it was an extraordinary story but the idea did not enter their minds that it was not true in every detail, for they knew that what Teeny-bits Holbrook said could be relied upon to the minutest detail. For half an hour they sat talking it over, suggesting possible motives and trying to fathom the meaning of the mystery. Two things Teeny-bits did not mention: the incident of finding Snubby Turner breaking into Campbell's room and the accusatory letter that had led to the discovery of the stolen loot. Those things, he felt, were matters not to be discussed even with two such good friends as Mr. Murray and Neil Durant. There was one person, however, with whom he wished to discuss that phase of the strange circ.u.mstances in which he had become involved; he had already made up his mind that very few hours should pa.s.s before he would have a heart-to-heart talk with Snubby Turner. He was weary, however--bone and muscle and brain weary--and as the sounds of the celebration diminished he mounted the stairs to his room for a well-earned sleep.

In the morning Teeny-bits went to see Snubby Turner early,--before the newspapers brought the first information of the tragedy. Snubby, still in his pyjamas, let the new captain of the Ridgley eleven into his room and blinked happily at his visitor.

"Oh, what a _day_, and oh, what a _night_!" he said. "It was the best thing that ever happened and I'm glad I didn't miss it." Then genial Snubby held out his hand to Teeny-bits and added: "Ridgley owes you a lot and I'm _mighty glad_ that the fellows made you captain. Every one says that you're the man for the job."

Teeny-bits was embarra.s.sed by Snubby's words, for they made it all the more difficult to say what was in his mind.

"Thanks, Snubby," he said, and paused,--"I came down here because I wanted to ask you a question that has been bothering me for nearly a week. You remember last Monday night when we had the ma.s.s meeting?"

A queer look came over Snubby's face. "Yes, I remember that night all right."

"Well," said Teeny-bits, "you know the fellows got me up on the platform and made me say something, and then, instead of sitting down, I went out and started to come back to the dormitory. That was about nine o'clock and no one was stirring on the campus because all the fellows had gone to the ma.s.s meeting."

Teeny-bits was silent for a moment as if waiting for Snubby to say something, but Snubby only continued to look at him with the same queer expression of expectation that had come into his face at first mention of the ma.s.s meeting.

"Well," continued Teeny-bits, "you know, something happened. I was coming along pretty close to Gannett Hall when I saw some one sliding down a fire-escape rope and getting into Campbell's window. Of course, that made me think of the things that had been stolen from the fellows'

rooms and so I stepped into the bushes out there behind the dormitory and waited until the fellow came out and I saw who it was."

"Yes," cried Snubby, whose face had suddenly become red, "and of course you've been thinking all this time that I was the one who got away with the money and things?"

"No!" said Teeny-bits. "There's where you're wrong; I haven't been thinking any such thing. I _know_ that there's some other explanation and I want you to give it to me, Snubby,--for more reasons than one.

I'll tell you something that I'm sure you don't know. That same night, Doctor Wells called me over to his office and showed me a letter that some one had written, saying that _I_ was the one who had stolen the things."

"That _you_ were the one?" echoed Snubby with a look of amazement.

"Yes," declared Teeny-bits, "that I was the one, and of course I told Doctor Wells that it wasn't true and he believed me, but it said in that letter that the things were hidden under the floor of my closet and when Doctor Wells and I went up to my room after the lights were out in the dormitories, we found all that stuff, including Harper's sailing trophy, Ned's gold knife, your watch and all the other trinkets that anybody has missed ever since things began to disappear!"

"But that didn't make Doctor Wells believe that you had stolen the stuff!" cried Snubby. "_He_ wouldn't think just because----"

"But something else happened, too," said Teeny-bits. "When I was crouching in the bushes behind the dormitory and just after you had crawled back into your room that night, Mr. Stevens came along and found me there, and I couldn't make any explanation, you know, and so I don't see how they could help thinking that I did it--because Doctor Wells always talks things over with Mr. Stevens."

"Why didn't you tell them that you had seen me coming down that fire-escape?" demanded Snubby.

"You know why I didn't do that," Teeny-bits replied, "and you know that I knew you were all right, but for _heaven's sake_ tell me what it's all about, because I want to get this mystery out of my mind and have it over with."

"I can see the whole thing as clear as crystal now!" exclaimed Snubby, "but I guess I was an awful fool to take such a chance in breaking into Campbell's room. It was Campbell and Ba.s.sett that I was after. Old Jerry put me wise to something he had overheard them say, and, like a chump, I was trying to do a little private detective work because I wanted to get back my watch and all those other things. Now _this_ is all I know about it and I am terribly sorry that I went b.u.t.ting into things and was responsible for bringing trouble to you----"

Snubby Turner was not destined to continue his explanation at that moment, for before he had time to go on with what he had in mind the sound of excited exclamations came from the corridor, and some one, after knocking loudly on the door, turned the k.n.o.b and thrust in his head. Teeny-bits and Snubby saw that it was Fred Harper.

"Have you heard the news?" the newcomer cried. "Ba.s.sett's been killed and Campbell's in the hospital pretty nearly done for, too! It's in the newspapers. Look here!"

Behind Fred Harper were half a dozen other Ridgleyites, and Snubby Turner's room quickly became crowded with members of the school whose attention had been attracted by the exclamations. Meanwhile Snubby Turner slipped out of the room and ran down to the bas.e.m.e.nt to consult Jerry, the janitor's a.s.sistant; he remained in the old fellow's box-like room for several minutes.

The result of the conversation that went on between them was that old Jerry pulled a celluloid collar out of a pasteboard box and announced gruffly and with unmistakable determination that he was "goin' over to see the Doctor." It was not often that old Jerry adorned his neck in any manner, and now he felt that it was entirely unnecessary to put on a tie. The shining collar itself fastened with a b.u.t.ton which, if not gold at least had the appearance of the precious metal, was evidence that he was bound upon an important mission and when he arrived at Doctor Wells'

house and rang the door bell his fearsome features wore such a murderous expression that the maid who came in answer to his summons was startled.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I wanter see the Doctor!" said Jerry and glowered so fiercely that the girl started to close the door.

With surprising agility the old man thrust his foot into the crack and when the girl said: "The Doctor is very busy; he's received some bad news and he won't want to talk with you," old Jerry repeated: "I wanter see the Doctor!" and added an imperative "_Now!_" which caused the girl to come to the conclusion that here was a determined and desperate man.