“Out of trouble by baseball time? Yes, I guess I will. And out of Pennington, too.”
“Aw, he won’t fire you out. He’s not a stickler like that. He’d only take away your special privileges and—Jiminy, you’ll lose your table job, won’t you?” Wade began to look concerned.
“Yes, and my newspaper and magazine privilege, and my laundry business and that will be the finish.”
“Finish?”
“Yes, finish.”
“Why, what do you mean, Jeff?”
“Hang it, man, don’t you see, if I lose all my special privileges I won’t be able to stay in school. Those jobs pay my way here. I haven’t a cent otherwise and if they are taken away from me I’ll have to quit school and go to work. I haven’t a cent coming in from home—haven’t any home, really. I lived with my uncle, you know, and he can’t contribute anything. I’ve been hustling for my own living ever since Dad died, and that’s three years ago. So you see, if I lose my jobs here, I’m a goner. I’ll have to leave school and go to work to support myself.”
“Jingoes, that’s tough, Jeff. But maybe Dr. Livingston will take all those things into consideration and—and—”
“’Fraid not, Wade. You know what a stickler he is for rules and obedience. Fighting on the school grounds is a serious offense, as he said, and the penalty is only one thing,—all special privileges are withdrawn and the unfortunate chap has to spend two weeks in bounds. Of course it doesn’t make a bit of difference with Gould or Pell, they both have rich fathers to foot their bills—Gould has, at least—and they have been too lazy to work up jobs the way I’ve had to. The only special privileges that will be taken away from them will be the privilege of leaving the school grounds, going to the basketball games and attending whatever ‘spreads’ and ‘hops’ that might take place in the next couple of weeks. The worst privation they’ll suffer is that of going without their cigarettes; they won’t be able to go across the bridge to steal a smoke. At that they’ll probably take a chance and sneak their smokes in their rooms. Wish that was all I’d have to suffer, believe me, smokes don’t mean a single thing to me, but leaving Pennington means the whole world, right now. Gee, it’s going to be tough.” And Jeff slumped back into the attitude of dejection that Wade had seen him in when he entered the room.
Wade sat down on his bed, too, and was glumly silent for a long time. He knew that Jeff had spoken the truth. There was small hope that Dr. Livingston would waive rules even in the case of Jeff Thatcher, and Wade thought of all that Jeff’s going would mean to him. They had been roommates and pals for months now; since the beginning of the school term in September. It was going to be a hard ordeal to part with Jeff,—life at Pennington was not going to be the same for him; at least that was how he felt at the moment.