Scott Morgan
Ben Stone at Oakdale

CHAPTER XI.
ON THE THRESHOLD

“On the contrary,” declared Roger earnestly, as he once more rose from his chair, “I hold quite a different opinion of you, Stone. You have had a tough time of it, and any fellow in your place with an ounce of real blood in his body might have done just what you did. Every chap is human, and if you had submitted to insults and injury without resentment you would have been a soft mark. Hayden marked you for life, and he might have killed you when he struck with that knife; in return you gave him just what he deserved. There is nothing in the world I despise more than a fighter who is a bully, and nothing I admire more than a fighter who fights for his rights. I don’t believe there is the least atom of a bully about you, Stone. Put me in your place and I might have gone farther than you did.”

“Thank you, Eliot – thank you!” exclaimed Ben huskily, as he also rose. “But I have learned by experience that any fellow can’t afford to try squaring up scores with an enemy by fighting or any sort of personal violence; I’ve found out he only injures himself the most, and I believe there must be other and better ways of getting even.”

“Perhaps that’s right, too,” nodded Roger; “but I am satisfied that it is your natural impulse to protect the weak and defend them from the strong and brutal. You do it without pausing to think of possible consequences to yourself. That’s why you defended Jimmy Jones from Hunk Rollins, who, by the way, is a duffer for whom I have no particular use. That is why you faced the fangs of old Fletcher’s fierce dogs to save my sister. Stone, I think you’re all right, and I’m ready to tell anybody so.”

Again Ben expressed his thanks in a voice deep with emotion.

“Now,” Roger went on, “I think we understand each other better, and I am satisfied that a chap of your grit and determination will be a valuable addition to the Oakdale Eleven, for there are some fellows on the team who lack sand and can be well spared. Don’t talk to me about leaving school!” he exclaimed, lifting a hand and smiling in that manner which made him so attractive. “That’s all nonsense! You’re not going to leave school.”

“But – but I can’t stay,” faltered Stone. “I don’t want to leave, but – ”

“You shan’t; I’ll see to that. Prof. Richardson shall know just why you sailed into Hunk Rollins, I promise you. When he understands that you were simply protecting a helpless cripple from a bully who was tormenting him he’ll be pretty sure to do you justice. He’ll find out how you defended my sister, too. I tell you it’s all right, old fellow, and you’ll stay right here at school as long as you care to do so.”

A flush came to Ben’s freckled cheeks and his eyes gleamed with growing eagerness.

“That’s fine of you, Eliot!” he exclaimed.

“Fine – nothing! Do you think that will be anything compared with what you did for me? I should say not! If I didn’t do that much I’d be a poor flub.”

“Hayden – he will – ”

“Don’t you worry about Hayden. This is not Hilton, and it’s not likely Lemuel Hayden could succeed in making much out of that old affair if he tried. Besides, I fancy my father has about as much influence in Oakdale as Lemuel Hayden has. He has been here a great deal longer, and the mill business of the place is decidedly more important than the lime industry. I’ll guarantee that father will stand by you like a brick, so, you see, you have some friends of consequence.”

It was difficult for Ben to comprehend at once that the thing which had menaced him and threatened to drive him like a criminal from Oakdale was no longer to be feared. From the depths of despair he was thus lifted to the heights of hope, but the sudden change seemed to bewilder him.

Roger’s arm fell across his shoulders and Roger went on talking to him quietly and convincingly, making it plain that his proper course was to return to school the following day exactly as if nothing had happened.

“Leave it to me; leave it to me,” Roger persisted. “I’ll guarantee to settle the whole matter for you. Say you’ll let me take care of this affair, old chap.”

“You – I – I – ”

“Then it’s settled, is it?” cried the determined boy. “You’ll be there to-morrow? That’s first rate! Give me your hand on it.”

Ben found Roger shaking his hand, and he returned the warm, friendly grip, a mist in his eyes.

“I can’t hardly believe I’m lucky enough to have such a friend,” half whispered the boy whose starved heart had yearned all his life for friendship and comradery. “It’s too good to be true.”

“Perhaps I’m a bit selfish about it, too,” said Eliot. “I have my eye on you for the eleven, as we’re bound to do up Wyndham this year. You ought to be a stiff man in the line. I want you to come out for practice to-morrow night. We’ll have our coach next week, and then we’ll have to settle right down to business and get into trim. He’ll make us toe the scratch.”

Later, on the way back to his bare room at Mrs. Jones’, Ben wondered if he had not been dreaming. It did not seem possible that such good fortune could come to him at last, just when, to all appearances, his hard luck had culminated in blighting disaster.

As he thought of his visit to Roger Eliot’s home, of his reception by Roger’s family, of that dinner in the handsome dining room, and of Roger’s earnest pledge on hearing his story to stand by him and be his friend, a strange and wonderful feeling of lightness and exuberant happiness possessed him and made him long to shout and sing. An inward voice seemed whispering that he had left behind him all the dark shadows, and now stood on the threshold of a brighter and better life.

Still it was not wholly without a feeling of dread and misgiving that he approached the academy the following morning, and the fear that somehow things might not go right after all left his face pale, although his heart beat tumultuously, as he came up the gravel walk.

As usual at such an hour on warm and pleasant days while school was holding there was a group of boys near the academy steps. Chipper Cooper had just finished telling for the thirteenth time that morning how Stone had defended Amy Eliot and “knocked the stuffing out of Fletcher’s dogs,” his every statement having been confirmed by Chub Tuttle, who was making a sort of after-breakfast lunch on peanuts.

Every boy in the gathering turned to look at Ben as he drew near, and had he observed he must have seen there was nothing of unfriendliness in their faces. When he would have passed them to enter the academy Chipper called to him.

“Hey, Stone!” he cried; “hold on a minute, will you? Where did you hit Old Tige’s big dog when you knocked him stiff? We fellows have been wondering how you did it.”

“I hit him on the back of his neck,” answered Ben, pausing a bit.

“Well, that was a dandy trick!” declared Cooper. “You ought to have a reward of merit for that.”

Chub Tuttle approached Ben and held out a handful of peanuts.

“Have some,” he urged, his round face beaming. “Fresh roasted. Got ’em at Stickney’s store.”

“Thank you,” said Ben, feeling his face flush as he accepted two or three of them.

At that moment Roger Eliot came from within the building, saw Ben and seized him immediately, saying:

“Just the fellow I’m looking for! Prof. Richardson wants to see you before school begins. Come in.”

Then, with his arm about Ben, he drew him into the academy.

“By Jinks!” exclaimed Sile Crane; “I guess that pretty nigh settles things. When Roger Eliot takes up with a feller like that, Bern Hayden nor nobody else ain’t goin’ to down him much.”

“’Sh!” hissed Sleuth Piper, assuming an air of caution and mystery. “I have been piping things off this morning, and I’ll stake my reputation on it that Eliot has been fixing it for Stone. He has revealed to the professor the whole tragic tale of that encounter with Fletcher’s dogs, and, besides that, the professor has been questioning some of the fellows who were on the scene of action when the go between Stone and Rollins took place. My deduction is that Stone will come out of this affair with flying colors.”

“You’re almost too knowing to live, Sleuth,” said Cooper sarcastically. “As for me, I rather hope Stone does come out all right, for if he stays in the school he may play football, and I reckon a stocky chap like him will just about fill an aching void in the right wing of the line.”

“An aching void!” sneered Piper, who had not relished Cooper’s words or manner. “Will you be good enough, Mr. Smarty, to tell us how a void can ache?”

“Why, sure,” grinned Chipper promptly. “You have a headache sometimes, don’t you?”

“Smarty! smarty!” cried Sleuth, as he fled into the academy to escape from the laughter of the boys.

CHAPTER XII.
THE SKIES BRIGHTEN

Having opened school that morning in the usual manner, Prof. Richardson rose beside his desk, on which he tapped lightly with his knuckles, and surveyed the scholars over his spectacles, which seemed to cling precariously to the tip of his thin, aquiline nose. There was a slight bustle of expectancy all over the room, and then the scholars settled themselves down almost breathlessly to hear what the principal would say.

Having cleared his throat, Prof. Richardson began speaking slowly and distinctly, as if weighing every word. He did not look at first in the direction of Stone, who sat there flushed and chilled by turns, keeping his eyes on an open book which lay before him. There was sternness as he expressed his sentiments regarding the person with a bullying inclination who took pleasure in abusing those physically weaker than himself; and, although Sam Rollins’ name was not mentioned, every one knew at whom those open remarks were directed.

Hunk knew, and in an effort to appear unconcerned and a trifle defiant he was openly brazen. Soon, however, his eyes drooped before the accusing gaze of the old professor.

The principal continued by commending with some warmth the individual whose impulses led him, regardless of personal danger or the chance of being misunderstood, to stand up in defense of one who was being mistreated and abused. He went on to say that such a thing had occurred upon the previous afternoon, and that through undue haste on his own part, which he now regretted, he had been led to misunderstand the situation and condemn the wrong person. He even displayed his own moral courage by offering an apology.

Ben Stone’s cheeks were burning now, and his heart pounded so heavily that he fancied every one near him must hear it. He did not move as his grinning little seatmate reached over slyly to pinch him, whispering:

“That’s for you, old feller.”

Prof. Richardson was still speaking, and now he was telling of the remarkable heroism of a lad who had rushed to the defense of a little girl beset by two huge and vicious dogs. The principal’s words were simple and straightforward; he made no effort at eloquence, and yet his language was singularly graphic and effective. He made them shiver at the picture he drew of little Amy Eliot besieged by Tige Fletcher’s ugly pets. He caused them to see in imagination the dauntless defender of the child rushing to the spot and beating the brutes off.

“It was a very fine thing to do,” said the professor, who was at last looking straight at the lad whose eyes remained fixed upon that open book. “It was something not a few men might have hesitated about doing, or, at least, might have done in fear and trepidation. It is really marvelous that the heroic lad escaped untouched by the fangs of those snarling beasts. By this deed he established beyond question the fact that he is a boy of fine courage, possessing the instincts which lead him unhesitatingly to face gravest peril in defense of those who are unable to defend themselves. I have certainly learned a great deal concerning this lad, who apparently has been much misunderstood in the past, and I am proud of the fact that he is a student in this school. I am speaking of Benjamin Stone.”

A sudden hand-clapping broke out all over the room, and the professor did not check them nor reprove them for it.

There was, however, at least one who did not join in the burst of applause. Bernard Hayden’s face was pale and cold, but in his bosom there was a raging fire of wrath and resentment.

Ben was overcome. His head bent lower, and he blinked his eyelids rapidly to scatter the blurring mist which threatened to blind him. His effort to smile simply contorted his plain face a trifle, and there was nothing noble or heroic in the picture he made.

“Gee!” whispered Ben’s seatmate. “I never knew the old Prof. to get so enthusiastic before.”

As the regular routine of the day was taken up, Ben still sat there without daring to look around. He did not know when Bern Hayden, complaining of illness, asked permission to go home. Like one in a trance, he tried to study, and finally succeeded in forcing his attention upon his lessons. It truly seemed that the last shadow had been dispelled.

At intermission the boys came flocking around him, and some of the girls smiled upon him in a friendly manner. They found, however, that he disliked to talk of his exciting encounter with Fletcher’s dogs.

“The town fathers orter present you with a medal for killin’ old Tige’s big cur,” said Sile Crane.

“It may not oc-cur to them to do it,” chuckled Chipper Cooper.

“Permit me,” grinned Chub Tuttle, “as a token of my high appreciation and gratitude, to present you with a genuine fresh roasted, double-jointed California peanut.”

Even Spotty Davis hung around and sought to be familiar and friendly. Seizing Davis by the elbow, Sleuth Piper drew him aside and whispered mysteriously behind his hand:

“Listen to the deduction into which I have been led by the present surprising turn of affairs,” pleaded Sleuth. “Take it from me that this man Stone will become a member of the great Oakdale eleven, which will be much strengthened by his marvelous prowess and undaunted courage.”

“Mebbe so,” nodded Spotty; “but it ain’t going to set well in Bern Hayden’s crop.”

Walker, Ben’s seatmate, who had once felt it a sore affliction to be placed beside him, now hovered near, seeking to enjoy a little irradiated glory.

It was all very strange and unusual for Stone, and in spite of his pleasure in it his natural shyness continued to make him appear distant and somewhat sullen.

When midday intermission arrived Ben hastened to leave the academy, rushing away before any of the boys could join him. That day his cold lunch tasted sweet indeed, and his little bare room looked strangely attractive and homelike.

He returned late to the academy, arriving barely in time to escape being tardy. All the afternoon he studied hard, and in his recitations he was well prepared.

School over for the day, he was not given time to get away before the others, Eliot capturing him on the steps.

“Come on over to the gym, old fellow,” urged Roger. “This time you’re going to practice. I know the place for you in the line.”

“Come on, come on,” called several others; “we must get at it early to-night.”

Hayden was not with them; he had not returned to the academy since leaving on the plea of illness.

Again in the dressing room, Ben was supplied with football togs from Eliot’s locker. He dressed silently, listening to the chatter of the boys around him. They were all talking football now.

“I wonder where Bern is?” said Berlin Barker. “I should think he would want to get out with us to-night.”

“He was taken suddenly ill,” grinned Chipper Cooper. “Wonder if he has had a doctor?”

Stone felt a chill at the mention of his enemy’s name. He was congratulating himself over Hayden’s absence when something like a shadow seemed to come over him, and he looked up quickly to discover the fellow in the open doorway.

“Eliot,” called Bern, stepping into the room, “I want a few private words with you.”

CHAPTER XIII.
HAYDEN’S DEMAND

As he passed, the fellow cast a single malignant glance of hatred in Stone’s direction. Through the door which opened into the big, long main room of the gymnasium he strode, grimly inviting Eliot to follow him.

“Gee!” sibilated Sleuth Piper. “I scent trouble. Bern is mounted on his high horse.”

“Some folks who ride high hosses git a fall,” drawled Sile Crane, making a wry face as he pushed his left foot into a cleated shoe. “Drat that corn! If it don’t stop botherin’ me purty soon, I’ll whittle the whole toe off.”

After hesitating a moment, Roger Eliot slowly followed Hayden, who had paused with an air of impatience to wait for him in the big room. Through the open doorway Ben saw them standing close together, Hayden beginning to speak in low tones in a manner of mingled demand and threat.

“Look here, Eliot,” said Bern, “I want to know what you mean to do. I want an immediate understanding.”

“What is it, Bern?” asked Roger. “What are you talking about?”

“About that son of a stripe wearer, Stone. Are you going to attempt to ram him down my throat?”

“Not at all. If you fancy you have any just reason for not wishing to be friendly with Stone, that’s your business, and I’m not going to dip into the affair.”

“Fancy!” grated Hayden resentfully. “There’s no fancy about it. Friendly with him – friendly with such a low-bred, worthless cur? To suggest friendship between us is an insult to me.”

“I have no wish to insult you, old fellow. Doubtless you believe you have honest reasons for your dislike toward Stone. Nevertheless, it’s a fact that many persons hate others from no just cause.”

“You’re insinuating that I’m unjust and dishonest in this matter. Doubtless Stone has told you a clever lie, and now simply because he defended your sister when she was attacked by Fletcher’s dogs you’re ready to take sides with him against me.”

“I don’t propose to take sides at all unless compelled to do so.”

“You’ve done so already.”

“How?”

“By going to Prof. Richardson and interceding in Stone’s behalf. You can’t deny that. You certainly did it.”

“Will you wait until I attempt to deny anything?” requested Roger coldly. “I did go to the professor and tell him a few plain facts which I happened to know.”

“Facts!” sneered Bern. “Lies which Stone had poured into your ears. It’s remarkable that you should take the word of a creature like that instead of mine.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hayden. I spoke to the professor about the encounter between Rollins and Stone, and likewise told him of Stone’s heroic defense of Amy. Prof. Richardson believed Ben had attacked Hunk without reasonable provocation; he was not aware that the affair had been brought about by Rollins’ bullying abuse of little Jimmy Jones. I was not the only one who gave him the straightforward facts; an eye-witness of the whole thing had spoken to him about it before I mentioned it. Naturally, I am grateful toward Stone; I’d be a fine fellow if I wasn’t.”

“He’s a cheap dog, and all your efforts to patch him up and make him appear decent won’t succeed; his real nature can’t help coming to the surface. Why, it’s only necessary for one to take a look at him to size him up. What has he told you about me?”

“I prefer not to speak of any private conversation that may have taken place between Stone and myself.”

“Oh, then he has told you a mess of stuff. I knew it. If you wish to know what people think of Stone in Hilton, I’ll furnish evidence enough. His father was convicted of counterfeiting, sent to prison, and – ”

“Do you believe that the errors of a parent should blight the life of his son?”

“‘Like father, like son,’ is an old saying, Eliot. Water won’t run up hill. But Stone’s own record is enough to ban him from decent company. His own uncle admitted that he ought to be sent to the reform school, and he would have been if he hadn’t run away. The people of Hilton regard it as a good riddance, too.”

“It’s hard for a fellow when his own relatives turn against him.”

“It’s plain where your sympathies lie!” exclaimed Hayden resentfully. “You’re ready and willing to take up for this fellow against me. You’ve brought him here to make him a member of the eleven. Go ahead, but let me repeat that I’ll never disgrace myself by playing on the same team with him.”

“Do you think that’s the proper spirit, Hayden? You know the team is decidedly weak in several spots. We’re particularly anxious to beat Wyndham this year, and in order to do so we’ve got to put our strongest team into the field. A fellow who is loyal to his school and his team puts aside personal prejudices and is ready for almost any sacrifice. If Stone becomes a member of the eleven you don’t have to accept him as a friend, and it’s not necessary that you should associate with him off the field. You’re unreasonably angry now, Bern, but if you’ll take time to cool off and think it over, I’m confident you’ll perceive the mistake you’re disposed to make.”

Hayden lifted his clenched fist in a passionate gesture. “I tell you, Eliot, you can’t ram him down my throat. You ought to know whether or not I’m of especial value to the team. If I was willing to try, I couldn’t play upon it and do myself justice with that fellow a member. You’ll have to choose between us.”

“I don’t wish to do anything of the sort. I’m captain of the team, and, even though I disliked Stone as bitterly as you do, I’d accept him as a member if I knew he would strengthen our forces.”

“Yes, you’re captain of the team,” sneered Bern, “and you’re trying to work for your own advantage; but let me inform you that if you persist in this course it will be to your decided disadvantage. You’ll find I’m not the only one who can’t swallow Stone. If you want harmony on the team – and that’s rather important – just send him scooting. He can’t play football, anyhow. He’s a big, lumbering, dull-witted creature who will be an incumbrance.”

“I can’t see how we can tell about that until he has been tried out.”

Again the indignant lad made that passionate gesture with his clenched fist. “Try him out then!” he snarled. “Have your own way and see what comes of it, but you’ll be sorry for your obstinacy.” With which he stepped past Roger and walked swiftly back through the dressing room, his dark face pale with pent-up exasperation.

“I say, Bern,” called Berlin Barker, “where are you going? Aren’t you going to stay for practice?”

“Not to-night,” Hayden flung over his shoulder, “nor any other night until Eliot comes to his senses.”