AN UNUSUAL COMPACT
“He’ll do it—he is bound to do it!” cried Ben, as he and Phil hurried down to the dining-room.
“I think so myself, Ben,” answered the shipowner’s son. But, for some reason, he did not seem as joyful over the outcome of the interview as might have been expected.
“He won’t dare let this news become public property,” went on the other student. “He is too afraid of public opinion.”
“Ben, he thinks we got that lawyer to take the case up.”
“You told him we hadn’t.”
“But he didn’t believe it—I could tell that by his manner. And, Ben, do you know, after all, this looks to me as if we had, somehow, bribed him to be easy on us,” continued Phil, with added concern.
“Oh, don’t bother your head about that, Phil. We only asked for what is fair, didn’t we?”
“Yes, but––” And then the shipowner’s son 73 did not finish, because he did not know what to say. In some manner, Phil’s conscience troubled him, and he wondered what Dave and Roger would say when they heard of what had occurred.
During the meal that followed but little was said by any of the boys. Once or twice our hero looked at Phil, but the latter avoided his gaze. As soon as the repast was over, Phil rushed outside, followed by Ben; and that was the last seen of the pair until it was time to go to bed.
“They have been up to something, that is certain,” was the comment of the senator’s son.
“Well, we can only wait and see what turns up,” answered Dave, thoughtfully. “I don’t think I care to ask them.”
In the morning, when Dave got up he looked over to where Phil was in the habit of sleeping. The bed was empty, and the shipowner’s son was gone.
“Dressed half an hour ago,” said another of the dormitory inmates.
“Went off again with Ben, I’ll wager,” murmured Roger. Ben was in another room, across the hallway, that term.
Dave and Roger had been hard at work the evening before, doing their best to make up the lessons they had missed while away from the school. They doubted if Phil and Ben had studied at all. With considerable curiosity they awaited 74 the opening of the morning classes, to see what might happen. They felt that something was “in the air.”
Just before the last bell rang Phil and Ben appeared, their faces wreathed in smiles.
“It’s all right, fellows!” cried the shipowner’s son, merrily. “It’s all right!”
“Now we can take our time making up those missed lessons,” added Ben.
“You went to old Haskers?” queried Roger.
“We sure did,” answered the shipowner’s son.
“And told him about––” began our hero.
“Never mind what we told him, Dave,” interrupted Phil. “We did tell him that we wanted to make up the lessons but couldn’t do it in the time he had allotted. He argued it, at first, but now he has agreed to give us the same time Mr. Dale did, three weeks.”
“Good!” exclaimed Roger.
“You, or all of us?” asked our hero.
“All of us. I think he’ll speak to you at recess—he said he would.”
“What did he say when you—when you mentioned Mrs. Breen?” asked Roger.
“Hush, somebody might hear you!” returned Phil, in a whisper. “We have promised to keep that quiet.”
“But the poor woman––” began Dave. 75
“Will get her money, never fear. A lawyer has already written about it, and old Haskers says he will pay up. He claims it is all a mistake. But he doesn’t want anybody at Oak Hall to get wind of it.”
There was no time to say more, and evidently neither Phil nor Ben felt in the humor to discuss the affair. The early morning lesson proceeded as usual, but it was noticed that Professor Haskers was much subdued in his manner towards the students.
“Porter and Morr, I wish to speak to you at recess,” said he, coming down to where the two lads sat. “Kindly remain here.”
When the other students had left the classroom the instructor came to our hero and his chum and motioned for them to follow him to a private room close by.
“I wish to speak to you about the lessons you are to make up,” said Job Haskers, after clearing his throat several times. “I understand that you want more time.”
“We would like to have more time, yes,” answered Dave, briefly, and looking the teacher full in the face.
“Can you do the lessons in three weeks?”
“Yes, Mr. Haskers,” said Dave, and Roger nodded his head.
“Then you can take that much time. But, remember, 76 I shall expect you to—to—er—to make up the lessons.”
“Yes, sir,” came from both students.
“If you need more time—or any assistance—possibly I can arrange it,” went on Job Haskers, eagerly.
“Thank you, if you give me three weeks I am sure I can make up the lessons to your satisfaction, Mr. Haskers,” came from our hero.
“And so can I,” added the senator’s son. “Anyway, I’ll try my level best.”
“Very well, then, we will let it stand that way.” There was a pause and the instructor bit his lip several times. “By the way, I—er—understand that there is a very unpleasant rumor going around concerning me,” he proceeded. “It is all a mistake which I shall try to clear up without delay. I trust that you will not attempt to—er—to circulate that rumor any further.”
“Mr. Haskers, do you mean about that affair with Mrs. Breen?” demanded Dave, bluntly.
“Yes. I have already explained to Lawrence and Basswood that it is a mistake, and that the widow will be paid all that is due her. But if this should—er—be mentioned here––” The teacher stopped short and looked sharply at Dave and Roger.
“Mr. Haskers, let us understand each other,” answered Dave, quickly. “I have no desire whatever 77 to get you or anybody else into trouble. Nor do I want to ask you for any favors. I think we are justly entitled to more time in which to make up those lessons, and now that you have granted that time, I shall do my best to make good. As for that Mrs. Breen affair, I think that poor old lady ought to have her money. I understand some lawyer is going to try to collect it for her. Well, if you settle the matter I shall feel very glad; and you can rest assured that I will not say a word about the matter to anybody in this school, or anywhere else.”
“You—er—you give me your word on that, Porter?” demanded the instructor, eagerly.
“I do.”
“And you, Morr?”
“Yes, sir,” answered the senator’s son.
“Who else is there who knows about this—er—unpleasant affair?”
“Phil Lawrence and Ben Basswood,” answered Roger.
“No other students?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Very well, then.” Job Haskers drew a breath of relief. “See that you keep your word. And about the lessons—if three weeks are not long enough, I may—er—be able to give you a little more time.”
“That time will be enough,” replied Dave. 78
“We’ll make it with ease,” added Roger.
“Then that is settled, and you may go,” and so speaking, Job Haskers left the room. The two boys followed him, and went out on the campus.
“How did you make out?” questioned Phil, as he ran up to them.
“We got our time,” answered Roger.
“But let me tell you one thing,” said Dave. “After this Haskers is going to hate us worse than ever.”
“I don’t see why,” declared the shipowner’s son. “I think we are letting him off mighty easy.”
“He feels as if he had been forced into doing what we want,” went on Dave. “I think he looks at it as if you had used that Mrs. Breen incident as a club over him.”
“Well, it was a club in one sense, Dave.”
“I know it, Phil, and, although I am glad we have won out and gotten that extra time, still I am sorry that you and Ben went to him as you did.”
“Humph! did you think I was going to sit still and be put back into a lower class?”
“Maybe it might have been better if you had gone to Doctor Clay.”
“I don’t think so,” replied Phil, shortly; and then the school-bell rang again and all the boys had to go to their next classes.
In spite of the cloud that thus hung over the 79 affair, every one of the chums was glad of the extra time in which to make up the lost lessons. Not one of them had to grind away as hard as before, and Dave took a little time off, in which to send a letter to his father and another to Jessie.
The next day was warm and pleasant and, after school-hours, Roger proposed to Dave that they take a walk up the woods road back of the school.
“All right, a walk in the woods will do us good,” was the answer. “Shall we ask some of the others?”
“If you wish,” and in the end Phil went along, and also Buster Beggs and Gus Plum.
“My, but I had a run-in with old Haskers this afternoon,” said the stout youth. “I came close to carrying the matter to the doctor.”
“What was it about?” questioned Dave.
“Oh, nothing at all, to my way of thinking. I went to the library to get a book and he accused me of wasting my class time. He was very ugly. I won’t stand for much more of it,” grumbled Buster.
Dave said no more, but he and Roger exchanged glances. Evidently the irate instructor was going to “take it out of somebody,” as the saying goes.
The boys walked on and on, along the road, until Oak Hall was left far behind. Soon Buster 80 forgot his troubles, and the crowd were chatting gayly of many things.
“Call for candidates for the baseball team next Saturday,” announced Gus Plum. “I hope we get up a team this year that knocks the spots out of Rockville Military Academy and all the other institutions we cross bats with.”
“Are you going to try for the nine this term, Gus?” questioned Dave.
“Sure! Why not? You’ll try, won’t you?” went on the big youth, in surprise.
“No, I’ve decided not to go into athletics this term, Gus. I want to give all my time to my studies.”
“Yes, but the nine needs you, Dave!” put in Buster. “I heard some of the fellows talking about it only yesterday. They had you slated for your old position.”
“Well, if Gus wants to play, he can fill the box,” answered Dave.
“But we need more than one pitcher,” insisted Buster.
“There are plenty of new students coming along. I hear Thomas is a good one, and so is Ennis.”
“I’m not going to play, either,” said Roger. “I want to graduate with all the honors possible.”
“How about you, Phil?”
“I—I think I’ll play,” answered the shipowner’s 81 son, rather lamely. “I’ll see about it later.”
“Well, I don’t want to neglect my studies,” said Gus Plum. “But I have done some hard work this winter and so I am pretty well ahead. I didn’t lose time going to Cave Island, you know,” he added, with a smile.
“Well, it was worth it—losing that time,” answered Dave. “It saved Mr. Wadsworth from ruin, and that’s a good deal.”
“If the baseball nine––” commenced Buster, and then broke off short. “What was that?” he demanded, as a cry from a distance broke on the ears of all.
“It’s a woman’s voice!” cried Dave, quickly. “She is calling for help! Come on and see what is the matter!” And he started off on a run, with his school chums at his heels.