IN WRONG RIGHT
They picked me to do the dirty work because I was a special friend of Eddie Summers and they didn’t think he’d suspect me.
Eddie was the leader of the freshest bunch of Freshies that ever got fresh at Lillard High. He’d made things miserable for us Sophs all year and the worst thing about it, he’d slipped out of every trap we’d set for him. The other Freshies didn’t cut so much bait with us. Eddie was the rudder to the Freshman ship ... and once we put the rudder out of commission we knew the first year boat would flounder like a fish trying to make a cross country hike.
Pete Dean, leader of our forces, had prided himself on being a commander-in-chief second only to General Pershing and a few other notables not worth mentioning. To have an insignificant mortal, wearing the green skull cap insignia of the Freshman ranks, consistently outwit and thwart his best laid plans for keeping the first year fellows in their places, was only to add fuel to the day when the Sophs should drive through to a high and mighty revenge.
“He can’t get away with it every time,” Pete insisted, the morning after we saw the Freshman colors of green and white rippling in the breeze from the reed-like flag-staff on top of the Lillard High belfry.
“But who’s going up and get those colors down?” I asked, not caring to volunteer for reasons plainly obvious!
“If anyone’ll tell me how that human fly climbed up there and tied those colors to the top of that flag pole without breaking his neck and dislocating both ears ... I’ll get it down!” exploded Pete.
But he knew blamed well that nobody could tell him! And anyhow, when Principal Sawyer spotted those colors he posted a notice on the bulletin board saying that he’d expel anyone who tried to take ’em down.
Obadiah Erasmus Tucker got hot under the collar, too. The idea of any lower classman cutting such capers! As president of the Student Government League he felt called upon to declare himself against all stunts and hazing. Obadiah was a Senior now and he’d never gotten over the humiliation of having to wear a green cap his Freshman year.
I wish you could have seen Obadiah. He was the personification of dignity plus. No wonder they elected him president of the United Classes of Lillard. He never did anything improper. He was a polished example of law and order. And how he loved to enforce regulations! Obadiah looked upon “his truly” as the exalted head of a school court for the promotion of inter-class peace. The Seniors held the balance of power in this funny government which Obadiah had helped to form, because the Seniors were supposed to be the most experienced. The other classes were represented according to their place in the scheme of things. Real important decisions had to have the endorsement of the faculty but we got a lot of fun out of thinking that we governed ourselves anyway.
I guess a person has to have dignity to be looked up to ... or else they must be tall. Obadiah was both. He was the tallest fellow in school besides holding his head the highest. Eddie Summers was the only one who could come near him for altitude. Obadiah looked like a piece of pulled taffy. Everything about him was long. He had a long face, a long nose, a long neck, long arms and longer legs. Maybe that’s why it was so hard for him to unbend ... lots of longitude but hardly any latitude. His face was so long that he couldn’t laugh with it. Nothing ever seemed to strike him funny. I’ll bet you couldn’t have tickled him if you’d teased the bottoms of his feet with a straw. And if you laughed at anything yourself he acted like you’d violated half the constitution which called for a respectful attitude at all times.
Honest, Obadiah had us thinking he was a Swiss cheese and we didn’t amount to anything but the holes. He was very important and superior. I guess now it was because he wore double-lensed, shell-rimmed glasses and his hair always stuck up straight on his head. The glasses used to use his nose as a toboggan slide and he was always taking a long finger and shoving them back up where they belonged. He had just about as much trouble with his pants. Every time he sat down he pulled up about a yard of the legs so’s he wouldn’t stretch the creases out of the knees.
But I started to tell you about the Freshies and the sweet little job I was picked to handle. You can imagine how good the Freshies felt at getting their colors up to stay. And you won’t have to twist your imagination out of shape to figure what an eyesore those colors were to us, being the first thing we saw coming to school and the last on going home, as the belfry could be seen several blocks away!
The oldest landmark about Lillard High was the watering trough. It stood between the sidewalk and the road, just off the campus on James street. There weren’t many horses left in Lillard to use the trough but the water was artesian and many folks used to get it to drink. The town had run a pipe up on the outside of the trough next to the sidewalk where folks could wet their whistles. The trough was about ten feet long, three feet wide and four feet high, made of concrete. There were steps leading up to the fountain from the sidewalk. The basin of the trough was about thirty inches deep and covered with specimens of moss which the botany professor said was full of Amœbæ.
It had been the history of Lillard High that when any fellow got too fresh he somehow got acquainted with the watering trough. The water, coming from a well, was about as cold as water could be. One plunge in the trough was usually enough to shrink swelled heads or cool anyone’s ambition.
“I can’t help it if it is mid-winter,” declared Pete Dean at a special called meeting of the Sophs, “We’ve got to put a stop to Freshy rule. It’s the trough for Eddie Summers...!”
“A guy with that name ought not to mind the winter,” remarked one of our class wits, which was me.
“That being the case, you’re elected to assist in the dousing program,” delegated Pete.
“No fair! Just because I live next to that bird’s no sign....”
“Oh, come on! You know him better’n we do. You’ve gone around together. It ’ud be a cinch to....”
“Well, what’s your plan?” I asked, coming to the point. I was just as anxious to see Eddie hit the trough as anyone else. He might have been a friend of mine but class strife was class strife!
“My plan’s this,” outlined Pete. “Obadiah’s laid down some pretty strict rules and we can’t afford to get caught, so we’ve got to get Eddie alone when there’s no one to see us or help him out. The best time’s after dark ... say, tomorrow night ... and the only way to do it is for Ralph here (pointing at me) to find some excuse for going out with Eddie and lead him by this trough. We’ll be hiding and we’ll pounce upon him so quick he’ll be in the icy deep before he knows what’s hit him!”
The fellows liked the idea fine ... all except me. I’d a lot rather have been one of the dousers because it wasn’t likely Eddie would be able to figure out who they were. But I was sure to catch it in the neck as soon as the Freshies heard about it.
“Here’s your chance to be the class martyr,” offered Pete. “I only wish I was in your shoes!”
“So do we!” chimed in the other fellows with all sorts of enthusiasm since they knew they couldn’t be.
There was no use trying to crawl out of it. I was the unanimous choice and according to Roberts’ rules of order my say didn’t count. The next thing was to hit upon a scheme for luring Eddie out of the house to the scene of his Waterloo. We’d occasionally gone to the movies together and it struck the bunch as a logical idea for me to date Eddie up. Doug Fairbanks was opening at the Grand theatre in “Robin Hood” and Eddie would be crazy to see that because he had always imagined he resembled Doug. The only resemblance I could see was that Doug and Eddie both belonged to the human race ... but we won’t argue about that.
Well ... when I asked Eddie if he’d like to go, at noon-hour the next day, he hesitated a few moments as if thinking, then said, appreciative like, “Don’t care if I do!”
“Good! I’ll call for you at the house at seven-thirty tonight,” I replied, my heart pounding sort of funny.
That afternoon word was passed around among the Sophs that the ducking was going to be pulled off as per schedule. James street was the shortest way down town. We lived half a block off James street on Adams street and it was a sure bet that we’d take the one and only route down past the watering trough on our walk to the Grand theatre.
It was cold enough to wear an overcoat when I set out from the house that night. I almost thought I was going to lose my nerve ... it seemed like such a shame—taking advantage of poor, innocent Eddie that way. And it made me “B-r-r-r!” to think of the sensation he’d have when he flopped into that liquid refrigerator. I remembered the time when a bunch of us fellows thought we’d imitate polar bears and jumped in the bay through a hole in the ice. Never again!
It was a dark night, too. This would be in our favor. The campus was shaded by huge pine trees and the watering trough was in the middle of the block so that the light from the arcs on either corner just barely reached. Without the moon it was almost pitch dark through that stretch.
I rang Eddie’s door bell ... feeling more and more like handing in my resignation but what could I do now? After a few minutes Eddie came to the door but I saw through the glass that he didn’t have his hat or coat on. His face looked grave.
“Sorry, Ralph,” Eddie announced. “There’s sickness in the family and I’ll just have to call it off tonight. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you know sooner ... but I kept thinking I could get away until the last minute.”
“Oh—that’s all right,” I said, feeling disappointed and relieved at the same time. “I hope it’s nothing serious?”
“No ... I guess not....” Eddie answered, not mentioning who was sick. “It’s only serious for the time being.”
Well,—here was a nice howdy do! After leaving Eddie I stopped outside his house, wondering what move to make next. The fellows would be expecting me to show up with him any minute now. I’d better go down and tell the boys it was all off ... and explain just why so’s I wouldn’t get the blame for not going through with my part in the proceedings.
Obadiah Erasmus Tucker lived the second house from the corner off the intersection of James and Adams streets, just a block from the school. Of course it had to be my luck to run into him as I passed the house. He was on his way down to the Chamber of Commerce to attend a civic meeting that he wanted to write up for a civics lesson.
“Why, good evening, Ralph!” Obadiah said to me. He had an old way about him that made you feel like he was doing you a favor to speak to you. “Snappy weather, eh what?”
“Yes,—pretty lively,” I replied, feeling uneasy as Obadiah hit it off alongside me. I was thinking of his running into the fellows at the trough and that he’d know right away we were up to some devilment and have us called on the carpet the next day or report us to the principal.
I shifted over to the side nearest the trough so I could give the fellows the high sign at the first opportunity but when we got up close there wasn’t a one in sight and I began to think they’d gotten wise and skidooed when all of a sudden there was a noise like the radio report of the democratic convention ... only worse ... and black forms swooped around from the street side of the trough and from behind every nearby tree.
For a second I couldn’t figure out what it was all about ... until I heard Obadiah give a yell ... and the next thing I knew there was a flock of arms hoisting him in the air ... and before I could shout or do a thing ... Plop! he went, right into the middle of the watering trough!
There was the grandest splashing and sputtering you ever heard for the next few seconds. The air seemed full of Obadiah’s arms and legs. He kicked hard enough to send him most half way across the English channel but he couldn’t make any headway in the watering trough except down.
Every time Obadiah’s head came to the top, Pete Dean, who was standing on the steps, shoved it under again, yelling, “Souse him good, fellows! He needs it!”
They were making such a commotion, splashing his dignitary up and down, that it was all I could do to make myself heard. I rushed up to Pete, grabbed him by the arm and hollered in his ear, “Cheese it, you big boob! It’s Obadiah!”
Just then one of the fellows caught sight of Obadiah’s double-lensed goggles which had sloshed over the side of the trough and he let out a whoop like he was shot in ten places at once.
“Great razzberries!” exclaimed Pete, his eyes sticking out of his head. “Beat it, guys!”
The fellows didn’t wait to help Obadiah out ... they just jerked him to a sitting position in the trough and left him sputtering and gasping and blowing water like the cross between a garden spray and a whale with two spouts.
I was too stunned to move ... and when I did begin to think of locomotion I heard some new noises around me and saw some other black forms come dashing across the alley. Then it dawned on me like a flash. Eddie had outwitted us again. He’d seen through my invitation somehow. He’d tipped off the Freshies and they had waited, in hiding, figuring on catching us Sophs flat-footed at the trough. But they’d not counted on unforeseen circumstances any more than we had ... so they were a little late in arriving.
Right here’s one time where I used my head for something besides growing a hair on. I didn’t have a second to lose. The Freshies were almost on me. I gritted my teeth and ran up the steps and plunged into the watering trough beside Obadiah.
Cold? Oh, boy! Cold? The minute I hit the water it felt like my backbone was one long icicle ... and when I rolled over and sat up I thought I had about a hundred sets of teeth. Poor old Obadiah! He hardly seemed to know what was going on except that he was holding down half the country of Greenland and had a chunk of the North pole in one hand.
“Now we’ve got you!” someone cried, close to my ear.
Hands reached in and grabbed Obadiah and me, dragging us out of the trough like a couple of wet meal bags. Obadiah was as limp as a wet bathing suit. His arms and legs were all tangled up and he was doubled into a knot so’s not to expose any more of his anatomy than he could help. I wasn’t exactly comfortable myself. If it hadn’t been so dark I’ll bet you could have seen steam coming off our clothes.
Eddie was the first one I saw when I got out. He gave me a triumphant laugh.
“Thought you’d put it over on me, didn’t you?” he taunted. “No one sick at our house but the cat!”
“You’ll be sick in a minute,” I assured him, getting a strangle hold on my teeth.
“Who’s this bird?” a Freshie asked, stooping over Obadiah who was trying to persuade his knees to hold him up.
Say—when the fellows saw who it was I thought they’d drop dead where they stood. They were the scaredest bunch I ever looked at.
Obadiah couldn’t talk yet but his eyes weren’t frozen shut. He was using ’em to spot every boy in the crowd. A cat didn’t have anything on Obadiah the way he saw in the dark.
“Why—why Mr. Tucker ... what are you doing here?” asked Eddie, in a voice that shook worse than mine.
“Th-th-that’s wh-wh-what I w-w-want to know!” stuttered Obadiah, having an awful time keeping from biting his tongue. “A-A-And I’m g-g-going to f-f-find out!”
This declaration was what I’d been waiting for. I stepped over where Obadiah could see me.
“I guess they thought you were one of the Sophomores, too,” I said, putting over my thunderbolt.
I could hear the Freshies gasp. But what could they say? All they could do was to break out with nervous perspiration.
It was the first time that the president of the Student Government League had taken any notice of dripping me!
“Wh-wh-what! D-d-did they th-th-throw y-y-you in, too?” he stammered. “W-w-well, up-up-upon m-m-my w-word! I’ll m-m-make th-th-them p-p-pay for th-th-this!”
Here’s where Eddie Summers came up for air.
“The Freshies didn’t do it, Mr. Tucker! It was the Sophs ... they....” he started to explain.
“Y-y-you c-c-can’t t-t-tell me th-th-that! I know a-a-all about it! And besides ... I-I’m p-p-pretty n-n-near frozen t-to d-d-death. I-I’ll attend to y-y-you f-f-fellows in the m-m-morning. Th-th-there’ll be a s-s-special meeting of the League t-t-to t-t-take up your cases. R-R-Ralph, h-h-hadn’t y-y-you b-b-better c-c-come over t-t-to my h-h-house wh-wh-while I g-g-get a doctor?”
Obadiah’s teeth were making a sound like a freight train clattering over a cattle guard at a railroad crossing. He was getting worse right along. Eddie did have presence enough of mind to offer to help him home.
“H-h-help m-m-me h-h-home?” Obadiah glowered, “S-s-such imp-p-p-pert-t-tinence!” He shook a shaky fist at the leader of the subdued Freshies. “G-g-get along with you, b-b-before I l-l-lose m-m-my t-t-temper!”
The boys backed off, kind of bewildered like ... as if they didn’t know just what would be the proper caper,—but when they got a little ways off they broke into a run and scattered mighty quick.
I picked up Obadiah’s glasses and he stood for a minute with his knees leaning together, trying to put them on ... but his hands shook so hard that he couldn’t locate his nose. He finally gave up trying and took a couple of steps toward home ... peering around like he was afraid some distinguished citizen of Lillard would pass by and see him in his undisguised state. But the coast was clear.
Obadiah didn’t object when I took hold of his arm. Our clothes sounded crinkly and crackly like as we walked ... but somehow I was a lot warmer than I had been. And I was just getting to the place where I could begin to see how funny everything was. When we got to the corner I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I busted right out laughing.
“Wh-what’s the m-m-matter?” asked Obadiah, alarmed.
“Something tickles me,” I said, laughing some more as I helped him up his front steps.
“Y-y-you’re h-h-hysterical ... th-th-that’s what’s the m-m-matter,” he said, getting excited, “Y-y-your condition’s s-s-serious!”
Nothing must do but that I come in while his mother calls the doctor and my folks and runs around like a Japanese coolie laying out dry clothes for both of us and pouring hot water in the tub.
When I saw the outfit Mrs. Tucker had put out for me to wear I had another fit of laughing which Obadiah thought would send me into convulsions.
A suit of flannel underwear with the shirt and drawers separate; an old pair of long pants, which Mrs. Tucker said would warm my legs up; and a cast-off smoking jacket which had belonged to Mr. Tucker before he got a new one last Christmas—that hung around me like a lean-to tent. Maybe I didn’t look like the cat’s moustache!
Well—the doctor finally got there and after examining Obadiah he advised a brisk rubbing and plenty of hot drinks and hot water bottles ... but said he didn’t think there’d be any ill effects as the victim had stood the shock better than the victim had expected.
“I wish you’d look after poor Ralph. He’s propped up in the chair out there,” I heard Obadiah say in a disappointed voice. “I think he’s even worse off than I am!”
The doc came out and gave me the once over. He looked as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. I was sitting with my legs stuck out over another chair so that the ends of the trousers hung empty like I didn’t have any feet. I didn’t have any arms either ... and the sleeves to the coat hung like they do from a hanger. Then there was nothing under my coat but the underwear which fitted around my neck as loose as a horse collar.
“I’m suffering from a complication of clothes,” I whispered to the doc ... and then there was two of us laughing instead of one.
Obadiah sent his mother in to see what was up. And at the same time my folks arrived with some of my own clothes.
“The boy’s all right,” said the doc, after he got his second wind. “All he needed was a good laugh ... and I’ve just finished giving it to him!”
He winked at me as he went out the door.
I didn’t get a chance to see the other fellows till school commenced next day and then it was too late to explain what had happened. There was an air of direful expectancy among the Sophs ... and the Freshies moved about in fear and trembling.
Sure enough! The bell rang for a special session of chapel the very first thing. We shuffled into the assembly room ... most of the school wondering what it was all about. Principal Sawyer was on the platform with the president of the United Classes of Lillard. It was evident right off the bat that the meeting had not been called for entertainment purposes.
“Everyone but the Freshman and Sophomore boys is excused from this chapel to attend regular classes,” said the principal.
There was a murmur of curiosity and a lot of confusion as the room was cleared and the fellows who were left, gathered in two bunches up toward the front.
When things had quieted down so that every fellow was having a good time listening to his heart skip beats, Obadiah got up at a nod from Principal Sawyer and walked to the edge of the platform, glaring down at us.
Honest—I felt like snickering again! All the kink was out of his stand-up hair and he looked like he’d shrunk two good inches. He reminded me of a drooping water lily ... but mad? Say, he was the living embodiment of all the righteous indignation in the world!
“There has come to the attention of the Student Government League a very grave case of hazing,” Obadiah started. “A case which, I regret to say (which he didn’t) must be dealt with severely. It concerns the ducking of a Sophomore in the ... in the watering trough...!”
The Sophs glanced in my direction in dumbfounded surprise. The Freshies looked glum.
“Such an offense is bad enough in warm weather,” Obadiah continued, “but in mid-winter, (he shuddered) it is absolutely and positively criminal!”
I felt like saying “Amen!” to that. Obadiah stopped to clear his throat and to tap himself on the chest like he was afraid he was going to get a cold on his lungs.
“As you all know, the League has the first power to act on matters relating to the willful misconduct of students,” said Obadiah, as if he’d memorized what he was going to say. “At a meeting of the Emergency Committee this morning it was decided that, if strict measures are necessary to prevent further ... er ... further violence ... the League is prepared to take them!”
Obadiah’s hair began to stand on end like a porcupine’s quills. I could tell he was getting ready to shoot a broadside. So could everyone. But no one could tell where he was going to hit.
“The Freshman class this year has been a trouble breeder. Even the Freshman representative admits that....”
Time out while the Sophs all heaved a big sigh of relief!
“... and it is my understanding that this activity has largely been due to one member who, I have reason to know, was especially prominent in last night’s doings...!”
All eyes went to Eddie who sat looking like there was sickness in the family and he was it. I just had to smile when I thought of the turn things had taken. But the smile came off the very next minute.
“It therefore pains me to report that, in consideration of past offenses and because of his continued disregard for regulations or authority, the Student Government League respectfully recommends to the faculty and Principal Sawyer that Mr. Edward Summers be expelled from Lillard High School!”
Obadiah laid a long hand against his long face and waited to observe the effect of this recommendation upon those present in the assembly room.
We were stunned all right. I really hadn’t thought Obadiah would go that far. I didn’t want to see Eddie get put out of school. It was easy for anyone to tell that Obadiah was trying to get around a bad situation by making an example of Eddie. But what worried me most was that Principal Sawyer looked like he was going to back up the recommend!
There wasn’t a sound for about two good breaths, when suddenly Eddie jumped to his feet, eyes gleaming.
“Excuse me, sir. It was the Sophs who ducked you!”
Have you ever been some place during a storm when the air all at once seemed full of electricity? Well, you’ll know how we felt then—our skin prickled!
Obadiah gave Eddie a look like he didn’t have any use for a fellow who would try to shift the blame.
“Prove it!” he challenged.
“I can’t,” said Eddie, and sat down again.
Obadiah smiled soberly. You’d have to see him do it to appreciate how anyone could smile soberly. He was sure Eddie had been trying to spoof him.
I couldn’t stay out of the rumpus any longer. It had gotten beyond a class proposition now. So up I bolted.
“If he can’t prove it ... I can!” I said, in a loud voice.
Suffering fireworks, what a commotion! The fellows almost fell out of their seats. Obadiah gaped at me, mouth open clear to his wisdom teeth. Principal Sawyer jumped to his feet and came to the front of the platform.
Pete Dean, sitting right behind me, just about yanked my coat tails off.
“Shut up, you poor fish!” he whispered. “Want to get us all in dutch?”
“I’m going to speak the truth and nothing but the truth!” I said, determined to make a clean breast of everything. The Freshies acted as if they were going to applaud but the Sophs looked like they were going to use their hands for some other purpose as soon as convenient.
“If you can shed any light on this unfortunate happening we should be glad to hear from you,” invited Principal Sawyer.
Obadiah didn’t appear so enthusiastic.
“I can shed all the light there is to be shed,” I replied, diplomatic-like, “but I want to know first ... if I prove Eddie’s not guilty ... will you reinstate him?... I mean, put him back in school?”
The principal of Lillard High looked at the president of the United Classes of Lillard and the president looked at the principal. They shook their heads “yes.”
“All right!” Then I explained the whole business—how we Sophs had planned to duck Eddie; how I was elected to call at his house and walk him past the trough; how Eddie got wise to our game and tipped off the Freshies who waited in the alley to waylay us; how I ran into Obadiah as I was going down to the trough to tell the fellows the plan fell through; how, in the darkness, the fellows mistook the head of the Student Government League for Eddie and flopped him in the trough before I could think of Jack Robinson, much less say it,—and how I jumped in when the Freshies came running up, to make it look like they’d ducked Obadiah and me.
“So if there’s any expelling to be done—you’d better begin on us,” I concluded.
It was so still for a few minutes that you could have heard a handkerchief drop. Obadiah looked like he’d been deprived of the opportunity of a life time. He and the principal went into a conference and they talked a long while ... so long that we all got restless and began to scrape our feet around on the floor.
At last Principal Sawyer stepped forward and Obadiah sank down in a chair, crestfallen.
There was a twinkle in the principal’s eyes as he started to speak. I believe he’d have laughed outright—now that he had the straight of things—if he hadn’t had lots of self control.
“Thanks to Ralph Duncan’s explanation the recommended action against Edward Summers has been withdrawn....”
The boys started to cheer ... they just couldn’t help it ... but the principal raised his hand.
“However, you are all placed on probation for the rest of the term,” he said, which didn’t sound so good. “Let this be a lesson to you. Report to your next hour classes!”
“You’re a swell class martyr, you are!” reproved Pete, as we left the room. “Tie the Freshies up in a bow knot last night and untie them this morning!”
There wasn’t anything I could say to that ... so I kept mum.
But the next morning, when Pete and I came to school, I happened to look up at the belfry.
Holy smoke! The Freshman colors were gone!
Pete beat me to expressing what popped into our heads at the same time.
“Eddie Summers ... the nervy cuss ... risked his fool neck to dip his colors to us. Well, I’d like to see him get expelled for that!”