Elizabeth Hobart at Exeter Hall Part 21

He visited "The Miners' Rest" and reeled home to his shack at a late hour.

All these are mere preliminary details to the statement that his nerves were growing irritable, and his temper uncertain. He beat one mule until it was forced to return disabled to the barn, and a few days later mistreated a second until it was worthless and the boss in a humane spirit had the animal shot.

For such cases a precedent had long been established. The boy deserved to be discharged at once, and discharged he was. Had conditions been normal, discharging a mule-driver would have been of so little moment it would have pa.s.sed without comment. But O'Day's quiet work had not been without its effect.

The same evening, a delegation of miners waited upon Mr. Hobart.

Ketchomunoski was to be put back or the rest of them would go out. Mr.

Hobart listened to their terms. He considered the question before replying. Again he felt certain that another brain had put the plan in operation. After deliberation, he spoke to them plainly. Such a movement on their part was ill-advised. First, the largest orders for the year had already been filled, and enough coal was at the dumps and in cars at the foot of the mountain to fill the orders which came in month by month. So far as The Kettle Creek Mining Company and its patrons were concerned, the mines could shut down until spring; as to the miners, they knew that they had neither money nor food to supply them for a month.

He tried to reason with them; but the Hungarians and Polack miners know no reason. Mr. Hobart's present method of talking with them, to their way of thinking, betokened not sound common sense and judgment, but fear.

They bl.u.s.tered and threatened and defied. At this, Mr. Hobart arose, declaring that they might take what course they would, he could _not_ return Ketchomunoski to work. The delegation, expressing their anger in strong words, departed. Mr. Hobart immediately sent word to Ratowsky, Ellis and half a dozen other men whom he knew would stand by him. Together they talked over the situation, cleaned their firearms, and then sent Ratowsky, by moonlight, down the mountain to purchase and bring back a supply of ammunition.

By the following evening the strike at Bitumen was on.

CHAPTER XI.

THE PROUD, HUMBLED.

After the midwinter holidays, the question of conducting examinations came up. Dr. Kitch.e.l.l had decided that, in view of Miss Hobart's refusing to take the examination, she could not enter his cla.s.ses again until she had explained matters to Dr. Morgan and secured permission from her. Elizabeth dreaded talking matters over with Dr. Morgan no more than with her father.

Upon her return to Exeter, she immediately visited the president's office, and explained why she had refused to take the examination. Dr. Morgan was in a lenient frame of mind. She not only forgave Elizabeth her hasty act, but took time to explain to her that this was a custom old as examinations themselves, and a necessity. The explanation satisfied Elizabeth's wounded feelings but did not alter her view of the method. She told Dr. Morgan of the conference the girls had held in her room the night before the holidays and of the plan they had formed which, with the permission of the princ.i.p.al, they meant to carry out.

Dr. Morgan listened to the plan as Elizabeth gave it in detail, then replied: "This much can be said of the plan, Miss Hobart. If it proves a success, it will be a benefit to the students and the school. If it fails, we are just where we were before--nothing gained or lost. You may try it.

But just a word of advice. Select as your leaders girls in whom the others have confidence; those who may be trusted to do right; however unpleasant it may be. Young girls may laugh at and seemingly admire a smart bravado of manner and sly deceit, but when it comes to being led, they want none of these. A dozen trustworthy agents will be worth more than a hundred who are not."

Such advice Miss Cresswell had given Elizabeth the evening of the meeting.

She had already acted upon it according to her best lights, though it was no easy matter to decide whom to choose. She and her friends worked slowly. They wished the reformation to be the outcome of deliberate thought, rather than of impetuous emotion.

Nora O'Day was one of its staunch supporters. At every opportunity she advocated the acceptance of the new school creed which Elizabeth and Miss Cresswell had drawn up. Considering the part which she had played in the examinations the previous spring, her present position was a difficult one. She knew that her strenuous efforts were looked upon by some with suspicion. But she continued. She might have become discouraged had she not known that Miss Cresswell and Elizabeth both understood.

Since that night before the holidays when she had told Elizabeth the cause of her social ostracism, no mention had been made of the subject. There had been no change in Elizabeth's manner toward her. Nora began to believe that Elizabeth cared enough for her to forgive. Her greatest proof of love for Elizabeth was giving her the essays and theses which had been her mother's. The memory of this mother was the only bit of real sentiment that had ever come into the girl's life. She was fond of her father for he had always been kind to her. As a child, she had idolized him. But as she grew old enough to learn what character meant, the childish faith died.

She could not put the feeling into words. She was scarcely conscious that her att.i.tude toward him had changed. But at Exeter she had learned to blush at the way in which his wealth had been gained. She spoke of him, but never of his business. She looked upon the simple gifts and loving letters which Elizabeth received from home with a feeling very much like envy.

Before the Easter holidays, Mrs. Hobart sent Elizabeth a simple school suit of her own making. Joe Ratowsky carried it down to Exeter. So many accidents had occurred on the d.i.n.ky-road that it had been abandoned until spring. The mines were closed; and the operators were making no effort to open them.

Nora was in the room when Elizabeth spread out her new frock on the bed.

"Look at the b.u.t.ton-holes!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Mother always did make beautiful b.u.t.ton-holes. And here," seizing a smaller bundle and unwrapping it, "if she hasn't embroidered me two lay-over collars to go with it!

Mother always seems to know what I want."

She was already before the mirror laying the bits of embroidered linen in place to see if they fitted.

Her companion stood by, looking on. She had made no comment. Her expression was not cheerful. Turning suddenly about, Elizabeth saw the dubious look.

"You don't like it?" she cried. Then, "I suppose it does look very cheap beside yours, but--" There was no complaint in her tone.

"Cheap? I wasn't thinking of that. I was only wis.h.i.+ng I had one made as that was made, by someone who took the trouble because they cared for me."

Her voice was tearful. In a moment she might have been crying, but she hurried to her own room. Her new spring dress had come the day before. She had spread it out on the couch to show Elizabeth, and it still lay there.

She took it up in her hands, inspecting with care every hook and bit of tr.i.m.m.i.n.g. It was beautifully made and of handsome material. But Nora O'Day was not satisfied. She missed more and more the mother she had never known. She coveted the plain, simple gown which loving hands had made for her friend.

Elizabeth wasted no time in putting her frock into use. Dressing immediately, she went over to Landis' room to talk over the plan of examinations. Landis had been one of the last interviewed. She was not what might be called a "charter member." Therefore, it was not surprising that she had not shown a great amount of enthusiasm when the matter was broached to her. Playing second fiddle did not suit her ambitious temperament. She had promised to consider the matter.

That promise had been given a week previously. Elizabeth, who decided most questions upon the spur of the moment, thought a week was sufficient. Upon entering Miss Stoner's room, she put the question at once.

"Well, Landis, what are you going to do about joining us?"

Landis looked serious. She sat silent for a few minutes, her gaze fixed upon a design in the rug, as though she wished to consider well before replying. At last she spoke and her voice expressed self-confidence and authority.

"You know me well enough, Elizabeth, to know that I'm always on the side of what is right. I have thought the matter over and have decided that it is worthy of success. I do hope it will succeed. That, of course, depends upon those who are backing it. Yet I can not put my name to it. Now," with a serious and most impressive air such as Landis only could a.s.sume, "do not misunderstand me. It is not that I do not approve of your plan, think it needed and all that, but there is a personal reason why I feel that I cannot join the movement."

"Why,--because you feel that you can not live up to the requirements?" was the brusque question.

"Hardly. I fancy I do whatever I make up my mind to do. I'm sure living up to the requirements would be doing just as I have always done."

"Then what is it?"

Again Landis looked serious. Her expression was that of one who could tell much if they would. Her habit of seeming to weigh her words gave them undue value. Her hearers expected her to express lofty sentiments.

"I hesitated about speaking of the matter to anyone. It is so easy to be misunderstood. I would not have anyone think me a cad; but there are some among your signers whom I object to. I wouldn't care to have my name appear there with that of another girl whom I have in mind."

To Elizabeth who blurted out everything, and who was frank and out-spoken, there was nothing more distasteful than insinuations.

"Whom do you mean, Landis?"

"It is not necessary to say," was the response. "I mentioned the fact only to let you understand that it was not the policy to which I objected. As I said before, I am on the side of right. I wish my influence always to be for good."

"But it is necessary to tell. The girls who signed that first pet.i.tion to Dr. Morgan are friends of mine. They are girls who stand well in school, and they're popular, every one of them. You cannot make such a statement and think that I'm going to let it pa.s.s. I'm not. You've insinuated something against either me or my friends, and you must come straight out and say what it is."

Min, who had been sitting by the window mending a pair of old gloves for Landis, gave a nervous giggle. Any little unpleasantness was painful to her. She stopped sewing to listen to the conversation between the girls.

Landis was not nonplussed, whatever the circ.u.mstances. She was not offended now by Elizabeth's words, but was surprised. She appeared shocked that Elizabeth should be crude enough to show vehemence.

"What a little spitfire you are, Elizabeth! When you're a few years older you'll learn not to express yourself so strongly. As to your knowing who the girl is to whom I object, there is no reason for my keeping silent. I have not mentioned her name because I was considering her feelings and reputation. But since you insist, I'll tell you. I must emphatically object to having my name published over Exeter Hall with Nora O'Day's."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked calmly enough now, yet she was exceedingly annoyed.

"Why? What a question to ask! Surely you know how dishonorably she acted last spring! Someone must have told you. You and Mary Wilson are such friends."

"Yes; someone told me, but it wasn't Mary Wilson. She doesn't do that sort of thing. Nora O'Day told me. Are you afraid to join the same set with her?"

"Not afraid in one sense of the word. To be sure, she would not influence me an iota. I might mingle with her and her kind and be none the worse for it. Do not think I am considering myself in the matter. I have in mind the younger set of girls who are so easily influenced. They know the story of Miss O'Day's methods in examination. What would they think of seeing my name in connection with hers?--that I would countenance anything that was dishonorable! If not that, at least, like me, they might be suspicious of a reform that had among its leaders a girl who had been publicly reprimanded for cheating."

During the talk, Elizabeth had been leaning backward against the study-table, her hands behind her, supporting her weight.

She paused before replying to Landis. Then she asked: "Do you believe in treating every one who has done wrong as you intend treating Nora?"

"Surely. To treat them otherwise would be an open acknowledgment that we are willing to overlook deceit and fraud. No one can afford to do that.