CHAPTER XXVIII
LUKE'S CONFESSION
The anticipation of Teeter, Peaches and the others that there would be asensation in chapel that morning was borne out. Never, in all theirexperience, had the boys recalled Dr. Fillmore being more bitter in hisdenunciation of what he characterized as "sensational vandalism."
He liked boys to have good, clean healthy fun, he said, and an occasionalprank was not out of order, but this pulling the statue from its basepassed all bounds. More and more bitter the good doctor became. Perhapspart of his feeling was due to the fact that the Founder had written abook on Caesar that the head of the school considered an authority, andyou remember how fond Dr. Fillmore was of the writer of the"Commentaries."
The boys looked at each other as the denunciation proceeded, and therewere whispers of:
"Who did it? Why doesn't he name some one?"
The doctor came to that part in a moment.
"We are unable to say who perpetrated this act of sensational vandalism,"he went on, "but I may say that once the students are discovered theywill be instantly dismissed from Excelsior Hall--this is no place forthem. I say we do not know who did it, but we have reason to suspect----"
Here the good doctor paused and there was an uneasy movement amongseveral lads.
"We have reason to suspect that some one knows who did it, but will nottell. I am sorry to say that we have been obliged to inflict the usualpunishment on this--ahem--student and he is now on probation. The usualexercises will now be held."
They went on, but it is doubtful if the lads were in a very devotionalspirit. Joe's absence was at once noted, and of course it was guessedwhy he was not there, though being on probation did not bar one fromchapel or classes.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Tom, when they were on their way to first lectures."It's Joe! Who'd ever dream it?"
"So that's why he was wanted in the office," added Peaches.
"I don't believe he had a thing to do with it!" declared Teetervehemently.
"Of course not!" chorused the other two.
"But they evidently think he does," went on Tom. "Here he comes now;let's ask him."
"Say, what does it all mean anyhow?" inquired Teeter when he had warmlyclasped Joe's hand.
The young pitcher told of the finding of the telegram, and its result.
"But, hang it all, that's no evidence!" burst out Tom.
"The doctor thinks so," replied Joe grimly.
"Some one who has a grudge against you--Say!" exclaimed Teeter witha sudden change of manner. "I'll bet it was Luke or Hiram who didit--pulled the statue down and then tried to blame it on you."
"Sure!" chorused Tom and Peaches.
"Wait!" cried Joe. "It's bad enough for me to be suspected of knowingsomething that I don't, but we can't go to accusing even Hiram or Lukeon mere guesswork. It won't do."
"But hang it all, man!" cried Peaches. "You _can't play ball_."
"No," answered Joe quietly.
"And the league season is closing! How are we going to win without youin the box?"
"You'll have to--that's all. Brown or Akers will have to twirl--they'repretty good at it now."
There were sorrowful shakes of the heads, but so it had to be. It maywell be imagined that there was a sensation in Excelsior Hall when itwas known that Joe was the one on probation, and he was urged by morethan one to tell all he knew, no matter on whose shoulders the guiltwould fall.
"But I don't know!" he insisted again and again. "And it wouldn't befair to guess."
The days went on. Frank Brown was tried out in the box and did fairlywell, thanks to the efficient coaching Joe had given him. Excelsior evenwon a game with him twirling, though by a narrow margin, and against aweak team.
But there were dubious shakes of the heads of the students--especiallythose on the team--when they thought of the games to come--the importantfinal with Morningside. Still there was no help for it, and Brown andAkers redoubled their practice in anticipation.
There was no objection to Joe practicing, or in coaching the twosubstitute pitchers, and he did this every day. Our hero did not writehome about the disgrace that had come so undeservedly upon him, merelytelling general news, and assuring his father that he had kept alookout, and made inquiries, but had neither seen nor heard anything ofMr. Holdney.
Meanwhile the affairs of Mr. Matson--due to the theft of themodels--were in anything but good shape. Still nothing could be done.
Joe bitterly felt his position. So did his chums, and they even triedtheir hand at amateur detective work, endeavoring to discover who hadpulled down the statue and put Joe's telegram where it had been found.That it was put there was certain, for Joe, on the night in question,had not gone near the statue. In the meanwhile the bronze had been putback in place and repaired. Among the students there were those whothought they knew the guilty ones, but nothing definite was disclosed.
The school term was drawing to an end. After the hard work of gettingthe ball team into shape for championship honors it was hard to see itbegin to slip back. Yet this is what took place. Brown and Akers couldnot keep up the pace set by Joe, and several games were lost.
By hard work, and more due to errors on the part of their opponents,Excelsior won victories over Trinity and the preparatory school. Thismade her percentage just high enough so that if she should win fromMorningside in the final game the Blue Banner would come to her. Butcould Excelsior win? That was what every lad there asked himself.
It was rumored that Morningside was never in better shape. Ted Clay, thepitcher, was twirling in great form it was said, and Sam Morton, assubstitute, was sure to go in for several innings in the final contest.
"They say he's a wonder for a short time," Peaches confided to Joe.
"He is," frankly admitted our hero. "I know his style. He can't last,but he's good for part of a game. With him and Ted against us I'm afraidit's all up with our chances."
"Oh, Joe, if you could only play!"
"I want to as much as you want me, Peaches, but it's out of thequestion."
"Maybe if we were to put it up to the doctor--that we would lose theBlue Banner without you--he'd let you play."
"I couldn't play that way, Peaches--under a ban. I want vindication--ornothing."
"Yes, I suppose so--only it's hard."
At last came the night before the final game with Morningside. Therewas a spirit of unrest and a sense of impending disaster abroad inExcelsior. Every student was talking of it, even Hiram and Luke. Thelatter, for some days past had not been his usual self, and his cronycould not understand it.
"What's the matter with you, anyhow?" Hiram asked. "Aren't you glad wedid that chump Matson up good and brown?"
"Oh, well, I don't know," answered Luke slowly. "I didn't think it wouldmean that we'd lose the Blue Banner."
"How do you know we are going to lose it?"
"Of course we are. Morningside will win, with no good pitcher to holdher down, and Joe is a good pitcher, no matter what hand he had ingetting us out of the nine. I'm sorry I got out anyhow. I'd like to beon it now."
"You're sorry?" gasped Hiram.
"Yes, I wouldn't have resigned only you made me."
"_I_ made you! Say, what's eating you, anyhow? You were as hot againstMatson and his crowd as I was."
"No, I wasn't, and while we're on this subject I'll tell you anotherthing. I'm mighty sorry I had a hand in that statue business."
"You didn't do anything--Sam and I yanked it down."
"I know, but I put Joe's telegram there--I'm responsible for him beingon probation, so he can't play to-morrow."
"Oh, you are; eh?" sneered Hiram. "Then you'd better go tell the doctorthat."
"By Jove I will!" suddenly exclaimed Luke with a change of manner. "Ihaven't had a decent night's sleep since I did it. I am going to tell. Ican't stand it any longer. I want to see Excelsior win the Blue Banner.I'm going to tell the doctor!"
"Hold on!" Hiram fairly hissed. "If you squeal I'll make it
so hot foryou that you'll wish you'd never seen me--and so will Sam."
"I'm not afraid! Besides I'm not going to tell on you--only on myself.I'll say I put the telegram there. The doctor can think what he likesabout who pulled down the statue. He can put me on probation for I won'ttell, but it doesn't matter, for I don't play ball. But that will letJoe play, and it's not too late for him to get in shape--in fact, he'sat top notch, for I saw him practice to-day. I'm going to tell, and youcan do as you like, Hiram."
"I say you shan't tell. I'll----"
But Luke slipped from Hiram's room, where the talk had been going on,and made his way to the doctor's office.
Dr. Fillmore, as may well be imagined, was surprised to see Luke at thatlate hour, for it was past eleven. He laid aside a book on the immortalCaesar, looked over his glasses at the conscience-stricken lad, and askedin his kind voice:
"Well, Fodick, what is it?"
"I--I--Doctor Fillmore, I've come to--confess. I put that telegram bythe statue. Joe Matson didn't do it. He dropped it--I picked it up. Hehad nothing to do with pulling down the statue and doesn't know who didit. But he's got to play ball to-morrow or we'll lose the Blue Banneragain. I'm the guilty one, Doctor--not of pulling the statue down--Iwon't tell who did that, no matter what you do to me. But I want Joe toplay. Oh, I--I couldn't stand it any longer. I haven't slept,and--and----"
Poor Luke burst into a fit of weeping--hot, passionate tears of realsorrow--the best thing he had done in many a long day--and Dr. Fillmore,understanding a boy's heart as few heads of schools do, put his big armover Luke's shoulder. Thus was the confession made, and of its effectyou shall soon hear.
That night Luke slept soundly.