For the Honor of the School: A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport

THE REVOLT ENDS

The sun came up from behind Mount Adam, the chapel bell rang, some two hundred boys leaped, crawled, or rolled out of bed, and life at Hillton began the next morning as though the day was of no more importance than any of the five which had preceded it that week; in fact, as though Wayne Gordon was not heroically resolved to sacrifice himself upon the altar of principle.

While the unfeeling sun was coming up Wayne was going through a most remarkable adventure. Plainly he had won Professor Wheeler to his side, for together they were besieged in the school library and had barricaded the doors and windows with books, while from convenient loopholes they maintained a rapid and merciless fusillade of ancient and modern history, Greek and Latin text-books, geometries, and algebras upon the heads of the besiegers, who retaliated with chest weights, dumb-bells, single sticks, and Indian clubs until the air was dark with the flying missiles and the battle cries of the foes shook the building. Wayne and the principal had just clasped hands and sworn to perish side by side, fighting grandly to the last gasp for the right, when a whole covey of chest weights came through a window and smote Wayne on the head, and he awoke to see Don with a second pillow poised, ready to throw.

“Get up, Wayne; bell’s rung!”

Wayne yawned, pitched the pillow back at Don, and arose. He hadn’t slept well, and wished that Don wouldn’t always insist on his getting up so early. And he told him so. But Don was good nature itself that morning and refused to argue or get cross, and Wayne was perforce obliged to recover his wonted gayety, much against his inclination, and trudge off arm in arm with Don to chapel. And after he had got through with a hearty breakfast, even the thought that probation awaited him on the morrow failed to dispel his excellent spirits.

For, as Don had feared, the combined efforts of the three friends had failed to shake Wayne’s resolution. Don had pleaded, Paddy had begged, Dave had threatened; and Wayne had reiterated passionately his desire to suffer martyrdom on account of his principles, and had utterly and absolutely and finally refused to attend gymnasium work to-day or to plead illness in extenuation. The three friends had not appeared cast down – a fact at which Wayne wondered not a little. It looked as though they didn’t care whether he was put on probation or not, and he had gone to bed deeply pessimistic on the subject of friendship.

Wayne’s hour for physical training in the gymnasium began at three, and when, five minutes before that time, he issued from Academy Building resolved to proceed to his room and put in the momentous hour at hard study, he found Don and Dave and Paddy on the steps. The two latter youths at once locked arms with him, much to his surprise, for Dave especially was little given to such expressions of friendliness, and the quartet moved toward Bradley Hall.

“Why aren’t you and Dave on the campus?” asked Wayne.

“Oh, we didn’t like to leave you alone this afternoon,” answered Paddy, with a smile. “You see, we have your welfare at heart, my boy, and we are going to see that you don’t act silly and get put on probation, and not be able to go to Marshall with us next week.”

“If you mean not going to the gymnasium when you say ‘acting silly,’” replied Wayne, with much dignity, “why, then, I’m going to act silly.”

“Oh, no, you’re not,” said Dave.

“What do you mean?” demanded Wayne, striving to withdraw himself from his friends’ clutches. They had almost reached the steps of Bradley, and now they stopped and faced about.

“Just this,” said Dave. “We’ve tried persuasion and – and – ”

“Entreaty,” prompted Don.

“And entreaty – and both have failed. So now we’re going to use force. If you don’t agree to go to the gym and do your work peaceable, we are going to take you there.”

Wayne struggled violently, only to suddenly find his feet off the ground, his arms held fast, and himself being borne, kicking wildly, toward the gymnasium.

“Let me go, Dave! Paddy, you – you beast, put me down!”

“Aisy, me child,” answered Paddy soothingly. “’Tis for yer own good.”

“Don, make ’em let me go!” pleaded Wayne. But his chum shook his head.

“Go you must, Wayne, so you’d better promise and we’ll let you walk.” Wayne made no answer, only struggled the harder.

“You’ll have to take his legs, Don,” panted Paddy. “’Tis mighty unaisy he is.” They were crossing the green now, and several fellows were hurrying nearer to see what was going on. A group of boys on the steps of the gymnasium were watching.

“It’s – it’s an outrage!” panted Wayne, his face white with anger.

“Maybe it is,” said Dave calmly, “but we’re getting you there.” Struggle was useless, and Wayne for a moment lay quiet in the grasp of the three boys. Then he caught sight of the watchers. It was public degradation! He temporized.

“I’ll walk, fellows,” he said.

His bearers stopped and let him down.

“Will you promise to go to the gym?” asked Don.

“Yes,” growled Wayne. “But I’ll not do any work, and nobody can make me!”

“Up with him!” cried Dave, and once more Wayne was fighting in the arms of the three and being borne on toward the gymnasium.

“What’s the fun, Paddy?” yelled one of the fellows who were hurrying to meet them.

“Oh, we’re just taking exercise,” answered Paddy carelessly.

“What – what are you going to do with me?” asked Wayne, in meeker tones.

“Carry you to the locker room, change your clothes, take you upstairs, and give you, like a bundle of old rags, to Professor Beck,” answered Dave.

“Let me down, then, and I’ll agree.” Once more he found his feet, but the others took no chances and still stood guard.

“Promise to do your work?” asked Don.

“Yes,” growled Wayne.

“Honest Injun?”

“Honest Injun,” echoed the other.

“All right,” replied Dave. “Then let’s proceed.”

They walked on, Wayne striving to look at ease under the inquiring gaze of many eyes as they passed up the steps and into the building. In the locker room Dave and Paddy left him to get into their own clothes and to hurry away to the campus, while Don stood by and listened patiently to all that Wayne had to say, which was much, and not altogether polite or flattering. Then the two proceeded upstairs and Wayne went through a long siege with the dumb-bells and the chest weights. Professor Beck made no sign, and Wayne wondered resentfully if he was aware of his presence. He was, for after awhile he came to the boy, watched him tugging the cords over his shoulders for a moment in silence and then said:

“Don’t get yourself too tired, Gordon. Stop when you think best.”

Whereat Wayne scowled, tugged the harder at the weights, and resolved to stay until the class was dismissed, hoping resentfully that he would injure his spine or some other portion of his anatomy, and that Professor Wheeler and Don and Paddy and Dave would be sorry and would regret their treatment of him. This so cheered him up that he was quite ready to forgive and forget when he had dried himself after his bath, and so met Don with almost a smile; for that youth, hoping for a reconciliation, had abandoned a French recitation and had waited patiently outside. Neither mentioned the recent affair as they strolled off together, and by mutual consent the subject of physical training was tabooed in their conversation for several weeks. And Dave and Paddy evinced the utmost tact, and were in turn forgiven on the morrow.

Professor Wheeler, however, was not so silent on the subject nor so considerate of Wayne’s feelings. He summoned the boy before him on the following day and earnestly and kindly thanked him for his action in attending the gymnasium; and Wayne, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other, heard him through and then broke out with:

“But I didn’t, sir!”

“Didn’t what?” asked the principal.

“Didn’t voluntarily attend the class.”

“But Professor Beck himself told me that you were there.”

“Yes, sir, I was there; but – but – ” And Wayne told the circumstances of his attendance, and the principal smiled broadly when he had finished.

“Well, well, that’s one way to persuade. I asked Cunningham to see what he could do with you, but I didn’t suppose he would use such – ah – heroic measures.”

“I don’t think it was his idea, sir,” answered Wayne. “I believe Paddy was at the bottom of it.”

“Paddy? Oh, yes – Breen. I shouldn’t be surprised if he was.” Professor Wheeler was smiling again. “Well, it wasn’t so hard yesterday, was it, Gordon?”