“Possibly not; but I doubt that. Even if you aren’t, though, I have spoken to you about it, partly because I know you better, and partly because you are the most organized set in the school, and so have more weight and influence. If you nine boys would make up your minds to stand by Mr. Boniface, you could carry the school along with you, till he wouldn’t have any more trouble at Flemming. Why not do it? Every young knight must win his spurs by helping the poor and oppressed. You won’t find many giants and dragons in your way, so why not lend a hand to help on Mr. Boniface? If you boys will treat him like a man and a friend, you’ll be more than repaid, for he is only waiting for a chance to know you and help you. And in some ways, he’s the finest teacher we have ever had at Flemming.”
Jack shook his head incredulously; then he said seriously,—
“I’ll tell you what, boys, we ought to be willing to do as much as this for Lieutenant Wilde’s sake.”
“Thank you, Jack,” replied Lieutenant Wilde quickly. “Start to do it for me, if you will; but the time will soon come that you are doing it for the sake of Mr. Boniface.”
The subject was dropped, but though no more was said at the time, it was plain that the little talk had had its effect, for matters were now going on most smoothly. Alex and Stanley had always been above any reproach of rudeness, although it must be confessed that they had shown a keen appreciation of the mischief of the others. Harry had gone over to their side, as a matter of conscience, and insisted upon Leon’s doing the same, while Jack Howard openly stated that he “stood up for Bony just because Lieutenant Wilde wanted them to.” For one reason or another, the other lads had followed their example, even to Max who, like most impulsive, affectionate fellows, was easily influenced by his friends for the time being, and not even the persuasions of Frank Osborn had been able to win him from his good resolutions.
The change in the situation was so marked that it was small wonder that Mr. Boniface had confided to Lieutenant Wilde his fear that it was too sudden and too good to last.
“Even Eliot is behaving like a model boy,” he remarked, the Tuesday night after Thanksgiving. “He is a likable fellow at times, too.”
“Max is a splendid fellow,” answered Lieutenant Wilde enthusiastically. “He’s freakish and thoughtless in his fun, often a little too much so, but he is the soul of honor and, in my opinion, that covers a multitude of sins.”
“So it does,” assented Mr. Boniface a little dubiously, for he was reflecting upon how large an expanse it had to work in the case in hand. “Eliot is a truthful boy, I think; but what a comfort it would be, if all the boys were as steady and as anxious to learn as little Smythe. That boy is a perfect wonder.”
“Yes,” said Irving Wilde, in a tone of deep disgust; “he’s a wonderful little prig. He learns like a poll parrot, and his only desires on earth are to show off what he knows, and to turn out his toes at a proper angle, when he’s on parade. The boys call him the King of the Fiends, and it’s my private opinion that they’re about right. I’ve no patience with him, and it just galls me to have to promote him over the heads of much better fellows than he. Let me take Max, with all his sins, and with proper training and influences, I’ll make ten times the man of him.”