The New Boys at Oakdale Part 24

"My father and mother were just poor, illiterate people, neither of whom could trace their pedigree back three generations. To tell you the plain truth, I don't know anything whatever about my ancestors on either side."

"But the family portraits you have, and the crest you use upon your stationery?"

"Pure bluff, nothing else. I picked those portraits up as I chanced to find them and fancied they would serve my purpose. Any one who wishes can get a stationer to put a crest on his writing-paper. My father started out in life as a tin peddler; my mother came from an orphan asylum. They settled on a little farm, and by hard work were able in time to buy more land. On that land some years ago oil was struck. It made them rich, and in a wonderfully short time my father drank himself to death."

Pity was now supplanting anger in Nelson's heart.

"But why-why did you put up such a bluff, Osgood?"

Again Ned shrugged. "Simply because I'm a sort of cad and bounder, I suppose. I've always felt grieved and hurt because I had no family behind me. It must be true that, although she came from an orphan asylum, my mother has good blood in her. Naturally, she had a little education, too, while my father could scarcely write his own name.

Mother wished me to have an education and become a gentleman; on the other hand, my father had really no true conception of what the word gentleman meant. After he died mother sent me to school. I've attended four different schools. Two of them were in the middle West, and at both the truth regarding my parents was somehow learned. Although I had money, I met certain chaps who, as I could very well see, looked down on me. They came from good families, and even when they pretended to be hail-fellow-well-met with me, I could feel the hidden contempt in their hearts. It made me sore, Nelson. I hated those fellows.

"I wrote my mother about it; I told her about it when I saw her. It's true that her health is not very good, and she has gone to Southern California. Why didn't she take me with her and put me into a school out there? If you could see her, you might understand. Her shoulders are bowed from work, and her hands are gnarled and knuckled. She knew that she would betray the truth to any one who might meet her. I knew it, too, and right there, when she proposed that we should be separated by the full width of the continent in order that I might attend some far school where there would be little danger of the truth coming out-right there I showed the real cad in my make-up. I accepted the proposition and went to Hadden Hall."

"But you didn't stay at Hadden."

"No. Shultz thinks I was compelled to leave that school for quite a different reason than the real one. One day a fellow showed up there to visit a friend-a fellow who knew me. I had been putting up the same bluff I've put up in Oakdale. I had far better rooms than I've been able to obtain here, and I was supposed to be a remote descendant of British aristocracy. The fellow who knew me punctured that fabrication. I was exposed, and I got out. Then I chose a little school, where it seemed to me there would be no chance of any one recognizing me. That's what brought me to Oakdale."

CHAPTER XXIII

ANOTHER SURPRISE.

At a loss for words, Nelson was silent. He was still unable to comprehend Osgood's motive for this confession. Perhaps Osgood himself did not know what had led him to make it, beyond the fact that he had suddenly been overcome by an intense desire to unburden himself in a measure.

The silence became awkward, and Jack stirred restlessly. His elbows on his knees, the other boy was staring broodingly at the ground. Roused by Nelson's movement, he lifted his head slowly.

"Well," he said, almost whimsically, "you see now what a cheap, common skate I am."

"A fellow who blunders and owns up to it, partly atones for his mistake, anyhow," returned Nelson. "We're none of us perfect, old chap. We're all human, and we have our little failings."

"It's very decent of you to talk that way, Nelson. I didn't expect it. I had no reason to expect it. You've every right to be thoroughly disgusted with me, and I'm disgusted with myself."

"I can't see that you've actually harmed anybody yet."

"That's because you don't know everything. I haven't told you all."

"Great smoke!" exclaimed Jack, "Is there more to tell?"

"Some time, before long, when everything comes out, you'll be compelled to think even less of me than you do now."

"Look here," said Nelson suddenly, "do you know anything about the cause of this Hooker trouble? You must be referring to that; it can't be anything else."

"Whatever I know you will learn in time," was the evasive answer.

"You aren't responsible for his condition?"

"I didn't strike the blow."

"You _do_ know about it! Why haven't you told before?"

"There may be various reasons. As one, you should see that it meant exposure for me; it meant looking into my past record and bringing to life the fact that I'm a faker."

"Now that you've told that much about yourself, I can't see any good reason why you should not tell it all. Seems to me it's your duty."

Osgood seemed to meditate again. "There are others concerned," he said presently, "and I have a duty to them as well as to myself. What I've told of my own affairs doesn't concern them, and I will claim that I've never yet played the squealer on any other chap."

"But the truth will have to come out."

"I haven't a doubt about that. Let it come. But when it does, let it come from the right source."

"I suspected that you must know something about it."

"Oh, yes, you've suspected me all along, Nelson. In possession of the facts I've given you, it will be a simple matter for you to show me up in Oakdale."

"If you imagine I'm going to run right away and tattle what you've practically told me in confidence, you've got me sized up wrong."

"I was not aware that I told it to you in confidence. I do not remember that I exacted from you a promise of secrecy."

"Perhaps that was because you thought I'd tell anyhow."

"I didn't think much about it. I didn't stop to think. When the impulse seized me, I simply went ahead and told."

"Perhaps you'll be sorry you did."

"Perhaps so, but it's done now."

Jack rose once more and placed a hand on his companion's shoulder.

"Osgood," he said, "I refuse to believe that a fellow with a conscience like yours can be thoroughly bad. Your natural impulses are right. You didn't bind me to secrecy, but I'll pledge you now that I'm not going to give you away."

"I don't suppose it will make any great difference whether you do or not," returned Ned unemotionally; "but I thank you for your good will.

Hadn't we better look up the rest of the bunch? By this time they're probably wondering what has become of us."

As he was starting to rise, Jack gripped his shoulder, hissing:

"Keep still! What's that? Some one is coming this way!"

From a distance came the sounds of a body moving through the underbrush.

Slowly the sounds drew nearer, ceasing at intervals, as if the person, if a person it was, paused now and then to rest or listen.

"Who do you suppose it is?" whispered Nelson. "It doesn't seem to me it can be one of the fellows coming back this way."

Osgood shook his head as he rose noiselessly to his feet. Looking at each other, the same thought filled their minds.

Perhaps it was Roy Hooker!