Boys of the Central: A High-School Story

by I. T. Thurston

“If you had been paying attention you would have known. Failure, Crawford. Freeman, you may continue,” said Mr. Horton.

Freeman—a slender, pale-faced boy—occupied the seat directly in front of Crawford’s. He rose promptly and began where Reed had left off, but in a moment he stopped, the color rose in his face, he hesitated, stammered and dropped back into his seat, saying, “I can’t do it, sir.”

Mr. Horton, whose eyes had been on some restless boys in another part of the room, turned around with a glance of surprise. Freeman was not an especially quick scholar, and his frequent absences on account of illness kept him from taking the rank in the class that his steady work would otherwise have secured for him, but a failure was a rare thing for him.

“I think you can do that, Freeman. Try again,” said the teacher.

The boy rose, and once more attempted to go on with the problem, but as before, his face flushed and he dropped quickly back into his seat.

“I am sorry, Freeman, but I must give you a failure,” said Mr. Horton; but as he spoke, another boy sitting across the aisle from Crawford rose, and said clearly and distinctly, “Mr. Horton, Freeman can solve that problem, I think, if he can stand by your desk.”

At this, low hisses sounded from different parts of the room, but a glance from Mr. Horton suppressed them, as he said quietly, “Freeman, step forward to my desk and finish the recitation if you can.”

With a look of relief, the little fellow stepped forward, and, without a moment’s hesitation, solved the problem clearly and correctly.

He cast a grateful glance at the boy who had spoken for him as he returned to his seat, but he shivered as he saw the ugly, threatening look in Crawford’s eyes, and caught the words hissed close to his ear, as Crawford leaned over his desk: “I’ll settle with you for that, and with that donkey that brayed for you, too.”

At recess, Mr. Horton kept both Freeman and Clark, the boy who had spoken for him, and questioned them, but he could get no information from either. He was certain however, in his own mind, that Crawford was the one to blame. He believed that Crawford was at the bottom of much of the trouble and disorder in his class-room, but it was all so slyly done that it was next to impossible to fix the blame where it belonged.