The New Boys at Oakdale Part 14

He next thought of finding Shultz, but, from lack of courage or an aversion for facing the fellow, could not bring himself to look for the prime cause of all the trouble.

Returning home, he found the house deserted, his folks being away to church, and his manner of wandering restlessly about through the empty rooms made him think of the old simile about the caged tiger. It was practically impossible for him to keep still. He wanted to do something, and his tortured conscience bade him do the right thing; but what that was, he could not for the life of him decide. Gradually his restlessness wore away, but still dread, like a bird of evil omen, seemed to hover near.

His parents returned, and, as usually happened when he remained away from church, which, it must be confessed, was often, he was sharply scolded by his father. Mr. Piper was much given to scolding, but only when especially aroused did he attempt to exert genuine parental authority over his son. In fact, Billy, like far too many boys of the present day, was permitted to do practically as he pleased as long as he did not worry his folks by getting into "sc.r.a.pes."

The day wore slowly away without further information concerning Hooker until near night, when it was learned that some one had made inquiries about him over the phone, and that his mother had said his condition seemed unchanged.

At dusk Piper met Chipper Cooper at the end of the upper bridge. They looked at each other inquiringly, and, after some moments of silence, Chipper said:

"Well?"

"Well?" returned Billy with precisely the same inflection.

"I'm pretty near sick," declared Cooper. "I hear Roy is no better. It's bad, Pipe-bad."

"Rotten," agreed Billy, leaning against the railing.

Cooper leaned at his side, and their tongues seemed chained. Beneath the bridge the water gurgled and whispered. In the gathering shadows a robin called plaintively from a treetop some distance away. The village appeared almost as deserted and lonely as the hamlet of Goldsmith's immortal poem. A heavy weight, like lead, seemed to weigh upon the souls of the two unhappy boys.

After a time Cooper heaved a sigh.

"It's bad," he repeated-"bad!"

"Rotten," said Piper again.

CHAPTER XIII

THE PROFESSOR'S APPEAL.

Looking careworn and old, Professor Richardson called the first session to order on Monday morning. The scholars and the two a.s.sistant instructors were a.s.sembled in the big main room. Every one seemed to feel that there was something unusual impending, and all eyes were turned upon the sober face of the aged princ.i.p.al as he pushed his gold-rimmed spectacles up upon his forehead and tapped gently but authoritatively upon his desk.

"It becomes my duty to speak of an unpleasant matter," said the professor, in a voice a trifle husky from the effect of a cold. "For some time I have felt that I would have to face this necessity. I have held my present position with this inst.i.tution for eighteen years, which is a trifle more than one-fourth of man's alloted span of life, three score and ten-a very long time. When I took up my work here I scarcely fancied it would continue so long, and at least twice in the earlier years of my stay I had opportunities to go elsewhere in the same capacity. One of these opportunities, the second which presented itself, was very tempting, and I debated not a little with myself regarding the advisability of accepting. At that time, however, I had just begun to feel myself bound to Oakdale Academy by strong yet tender ties, and it was my heart rather than my head which led me at last to decline the alluring offer. I have now been here so long that Oakdale, more than any other place I know, seems like home, and it is my hope to remain here among my many kind friends as long as I live.

"Necessarily, there have been some unpleasant features in connection with my services as princ.i.p.al of this academy, but, for the most part, I am happy to say that pleasant memories predominate. Having felt that my life work was to be teaching, I have ever sought to perform that work as faithfully and thoroughly and conscientiously as possible. Nor do I think I have neglected striving to enter into sympathy with my pupils; I have always sought to understand their varying natures, to make allowances for their natural faults and failings, and to encourage all their worthy desires and ambitions. This is by far a more difficult thing for a teacher than may seem possible to the youthful mind. The difference in years, which must necessarily exist between instructor and pupils, is bound to produce a p.r.o.nounced difference in habits, methods of thought and the viewpoint from which life in general is regarded, and that instructor who has the ability always to put himself in sympathy with the young mind beneath his guidance is indeed fortunate.

"In the last eighteen years athletics and allied sports, as relating to schools and colleges, have made amazing progress. I will not enter into a discussion as to whether such things have not obtained too powerful a hold upon our modern inst.i.tutions of learning, for that really has little bearing upon what I wish to say. In my boyhood, baseball was, indeed, a very crude sort of a game, and football was practically unknown in this country. At the present time there is in America no school or college of importance attended by males that does not have its baseball and football teams; and other similar games, such as ice hockey and basketball, have become amazingly popular, the latter even being played by teams made up of girl students.

"I am aware that many young school instructors have fostered and encouraged such tendencies, some of them even taking part in the coaching of teams made up from their pupils. Nevertheless, had I myself at one time been an enthusiast in such sports, I sincerely doubt if I ever should have felt it either my duty or my place to follow the example of such instructors. For it seems to me that there is, or should be, a distinct dividing line over which the conscientious princ.i.p.al of a school may not wisely step.

"I maintain that I am not prejudiced against any healthy, beneficial sport or pastime in which students may indulge, unless it is carried to that excess which threatens physical injury or infringes upon and r.e.t.a.r.ds mental advancement. When, however, a student becomes so wrapped up and absorbed in baseball that he neglects his studies and can seem to think of nothing save the game that has fixed its subtle but damaging grip upon him, I am of the firm belief that it is high time something should be done. When I see naturally bright students falling back in their cla.s.ses, recklessly refusing to give a proper amount of time to studies and openly declaring their resentment at the old fogy idea that mental training is first and foremost the great object of all schools for the young, I unhesitatingly a.s.sert that those boys are being injured by the present craze for sport.

"It has been my purpose, as far as possible, to restrain such mistaken fanaticism. As far as possible I have always tried to appeal directly to the misguided boy himself, and up to the present term I pride myself that I have succeeded fairly well. This spring, however, my task has become more difficult, and my efforts have, I regret to say, produced results far from satisfactory to me. I am aware that behind my back I have been more or less derided by certain scholars. It has been all too apparent that a new feeling of rebellion against interference from me has crept into the school. This feeling has steadily increased, until of late it has developed into downright defiance of my authority and desires. It has affected discipline. It has led me at last to make this direct appeal to you, scholars, as a body.

"Even if the day of corporal punishment had not practically pa.s.sed, I am sure, were I physically capable, I would not resort to such measures in order to maintain discipline. Nevertheless, I will admit that there are scholars to-day who cannot be reached by appeal or moral suasion, yet who doubtless would be led to see the error of their ways by physical suasion. They are generally the leaders in defiance of discipline; such fellows as smoke upon the grounds and in the building, regardless of rules or requests to desist; such as use bad language, absent themselves from cla.s.ses, or repeatedly appear in cla.s.ses only to declare themselves unprepared. With pernicious ingenuity they devise all sorts of methods to break rules and regulations and to defy their instructors, whom they foolishly seem to regard not as their friends but as their enemies.

"There are such boys in this school. They are fostering dissension, defiance of authority, and are priming themselves and their a.s.sociates for downright and open rebellion. I think I know them all. If I chose, I could give their names, but I will not do so-now. Not only is their influence harmful in the cla.s.sroom, but it is seriously injurious to those with whom they a.s.sociate outside the confines and hours of school.

One such lad may do an incalculable amount of injury to others. The example of every human being is bound to have some effect upon those with whom he a.s.sociates, and they will be polluted, just as a clear river is polluted by a foul tributary. Some of his worst self such a lad pours into those with whom he comes in contact.

"There's an old saying that boys will be boys. Boys can be boys and still be decent. There is nothing reprehensible in the natural boisterous high spirits of a vigorous young animal; it is only when such high spirits and vigor is misdirected, that it becomes injurious. Many a time, as I have watched a band of youngsters frolicking naturally in the sheer joy of bounding youth, I have felt a tugging at my heartstrings and a regret for that which the years have taken from me. Always, however, when they have been my scholars, there has been a sort of deep pleasure and satisfaction mingled with that regret; for it has seemed that, in a way, they were a part of my life, and that my a.s.sociation with them repaid me in a measure for the loss of that splendid thing which time had filched from me.

"But when I have known that certain scholars were breaking rules and defying authority with malicious perverseness, I have felt more than resentment or anger-I have felt sorrow. When I have seen, as has sometimes happened of late, my boys banding together at night upon street corners, behaving offensively, moving surrept.i.tiously, betraying by unmistakeable signs that they were engaged in stealthy and secret purposes, my alarm and distress has overcome both anger and sorrow. I have not known just what was taking place, but I have felt that there were things happening which ought not to happen. I have felt sure, likewise, that something bad was bound to come of it.

"This brings me to speak of Roy Hooker. I am sure you all know about him. Roy is not a bad boy, his inclinations are not pernicious, yet I am aware that he has been a.s.sociating with those who could do him no good.

On Sat.u.r.day night, at a late hour, he met with an injury-an injury from which, perhaps, he may never recover. This injury was inflicted by one or more blows upon the head, and it seems to have deprived him of the power of speech and memory. Since that time he has scarcely spoken half a dozen coherent words. It is not at all probable that Roy was injured in this manner while alone, yet up to the present time no a.s.sociate of his has had the manhood to come forward and tell precisely how it happened.

"This seems to me evidence enough that Roy was hurt in a manner that was regarded as shameful, if not actually criminal. Otherwise, why should the person or persons with him at the time take so much pains to prevent the truth of the matter from becoming known? Whoever they were, they have shown a lack of courage that seems absolutely cowardly. I'm certain there's not one of them who does not carry in his breast a tortured conscience, and this is one of the most certain punishments for wrong-doing. The evil-doer, if he possesses any of the finer human sensibilities, must always endure the writhings of a wounded conscience.

If Roy Hooker should not recover, those responsible for his condition must bear all through life a sickening burden.

"Let us, however, hope for the best. I have talked with Dr. Grindle this morning, and he encouraged me to believe that Roy would come through all right. It is not impossible that he may recover sufficiently to-day to tell precisely what happened. In that case, unless others come forward without delay, it will be too late for them to escape the brand of cowardice. It may require an amount of moral courage to confess the truth, but such a confession will partly atone for the silence so far maintained. Time is fleeting."

But if Professor Richardson expected any of his scholars to come forward at once with a confession he was disappointed; and, after several minutes of waiting, during which he busied himself by pretending to arrange some papers on his desk, he slowly returned his spectacles to their usual place astride his thin nose and regretfully announced that the regular course of the session would be taken up.

CHAPTER XIV

PIPER PUTS IT UP TO SHULTZ.

Never had a morning session at school seemed so wretchedly long to Billy Piper. The hands of the old clock on the wall behind Professor Richardson's desk actually seemed to stand still.

At intermission Billy sought an opportunity to speak a word in private with Charley Shultz, but was prevented from doing so, Shultz being surrounded by several boisterous fellows, who made a great deal of noise and laughed often and loudly. In this general chatter Charley took part, but Piper was certain that his loud talk and laughter were inspired by a desire to appear carefree and untroubled. Once Shultz's eyes met Billy's, which led him to frown and turn his glance quickly away, a sullen, resentful expression flas.h.i.+ng across his face for a moment.

The other members of that Sat.u.r.day night party seemed not at all disposed to a.s.sociate with one another. Ned Osgood put himself to much trouble to chat with Rod Grant, which was something unusual, as he had never before betrayed a particular liking for the Texan's company. Phil Springer hung around Nelson and Stone, who talked baseball when they had finished speculating over the mystery of Roy Hooker's injury. Cooper slipped away by himself, and returned only when it was time to get back to his seat and his books.

At last the hands of the clock stood perpendicular, one over the other, and, having announced that he would remain at his desk a few minutes to speak with any one who wished to have a word with him, Professor Richardson dismissed the scholars. A few of the boys lingered, curious to observe if any one should approach the princ.i.p.al, but all of the fellows who could have cleared up the mystery made haste to get out of the room.

Again Piper was baffled in his effort to speak privately with Shultz, who walked away between two girls, talking and laughing like one who bore no shadow of apprehension in his heart.

"He's putting up a big bluff," muttered Billy. "He never troubled himself before to be so jolly sociable with those girls. He can't carry it off like Osgood; he hasn't got the natural swing."

Piper bolted his dinner with such haste that his mother was led to warn him of indigestion, with which he was sometimes troubled.

"As soon as it comes spring," she said, "you get baseball crazy, Will, and you don't like to stay home a minute longer than you have to."

"It's not baseball to-day, mother," he answered. "I wonder if anybody has heard anything new about Roy?"

"I haven't, not a word. I thought perhaps you might at school. You're always so quick to see through things, haven't you an idea what happened to him?"

"Do you think I wouldn't tell if I had?"

"No, but it seems queer n.o.body knows anything at all about it. Can't you even guess, Will?"

"No, I can't," he answered brusquely, pus.h.i.+ng back and jumping up from the table. "It's never been my habit to guess; I've always had something to base my theories on."