CHAPTER VI
WAYNE PAYS A BILL
“I want two dollars, Don.”
Don glanced up with a smile.
“So do I; I was thinking so just this morning. I need a new pair ofgymnasium shoes, and-- But please, Wayne, come in and shut the door;there’s a regular cyclone blowing around my feet.”
“But, look here. I want to borrow two dollars from you, Don; I musthave it right away,” said Wayne peremptorily, as he shut out thedraught.
“Sorry, because I haven’t got fifty cents to my name, and won’t haveuntil Monday. What do you want to do with it? Going to start a bank?”
“That’s none of your business,” answered Wayne; “and if you can’t lendit to me I can’t stop chinning here. I’ll try Paddy, I guess.”
“Paddy!” exclaimed Don, with a grin. “Why, Paddy never has a nickelten minutes after his dad sends him his allowance, which is the first.If he had I’d be after him this minute; he’s owed me eighty cents eversince September. Dave might have it. Have you had dinner? Where didyou go to?”
“Dinner? No, I forgot about it. What time is it? Am I too late?”
“Of course; it’s twenty after two. What have you been doing?”
“Oh, I’ve--” Wayne’s face grew cloudy as he jumped off the end of thetable and went to the door. “I’ll tell you about it later. I’m busynow. Has Dave got a recitation on?”
“What’s to-day--Thursday? I’m sure I don’t know. I never can keep trackof his hours; seniors are such an erratic, self-important lot.”
“Well, I’ll run over and see. Er--by the way, do you know a chap calledGray, a rather pasty-looking lower middle fellow?”
“Gray? No, I don’t think so. What does he do?”
“Do? Oh, I think he’s a baseball player, or something like that.”
“Don’t remember him. Are you coming up here after four?”
“Yep; wait for me.”
Wayne clattered off downstairs and crossed the green back of thegymnasium and the principal’s residence. As he went he drew a littleroll of money from his vest, supplemented it with a few coins from histrousers’ pocket, and counted the whole over twice. He shook his headas he put the money away again.
“Nine dollars and forty-two cents,” he muttered, “and I can’t make anymore of it if I count it all day.”
He ran up the steps to Hampton House, pushed open the broad, white doorand entered the big colonial hallway. At the far end a cheerful firewas cracking in a generous chimney place, lighting up the dim giltframes and dull canvases of the portraits of bygone Hilltonians thatlooked severely down from the walls. Hampton House is a dormitory whosehalf dozen rooms are inhabited by a few wealthy youths who find in thecomfort of the great, old-fashioned apartments and the prestige thatresidence therein brings compensation for the high rents. Wayne turnedsharply to the right and beat a tattoo with his knuckles over the blackfigure 2 on the door. From within came the sound of a loud voice inmonotonous declamation. Wayne substituted his shoe for his knuckles andPaddy’s voice bade him enter.
“Where’s Dave?” asked Wayne. Paddy, who had been tramping up and downthe apartment with a book in his hand, and declaiming pages of Cæsar’sCivil War to the chandelier, tossed the volume aside and tried tosmooth down his hair, which was standing up in tumbled heaps, makinghim look not unlike “the fretful porcupine.”
“Dave’s at a recitation; German, I think. Want to see him?”
“Yes, I want to borrow some money from him.”
“Don’t think he has any. You see, I borrow most of his money as soon asit comes; he never has any use for it himself, and it grieves me to seeit laying round idle. How much do you want?”
“Two dollars. Have you got it, Paddy?”
“’Fraid not; let’s see.” He pulled open a table drawer and rummagedabout until several pieces of silver rewarded his search. Then heemptied his pockets, and the two counted the result.
“Eighty-five cents,” said Paddy regretfully. “Hold on; perhaps Dave hassome change left. Sometimes I leave him a few cents for pocket money.”He went to his chum’s bureau and in a moment returned with a pursewhich, when turned up over the study table, rained from its depths fourquarters and a nickel.
“Oh, the desavin critter!” cried Paddy. “Now, where did he get all thatwealth? Let’s see; that’s one dollar and ninety cents. If we could onlyfind another dime----”
“That’ll do,” answered Wayne, as he pocketed the coins. “I’ll writehome to-night and pay you back as soon as I get it. I’m awfully muchobliged.”
“Don’t mention it. Is there anything else I can do for you to-day?”
“Have you got anything to eat? I lost my dinner; forgot it until aminute ago.”
“I’ve got some crackers,” replied Paddy dubiously, “and a tin of somekind of meat. It’s been opened a good while, but I guess it’ll be allright after I scrape the mold off.”
“Bring them out, will you? I’m in a hurry, Paddy; I’ve got a recitationat 3.15.” Paddy whistled.
“In a hurry! Whisper, Wayne, are yez ill?”
“Shut up. Where’s the meat?”
The delicacies were produced and Wayne ate ravenously. As Paddy hadpredicted, the tinned beef was extremely palatable to the hungry boyafter a half inch of mold had been detached with the paper cutter.
“Do you know a chap named Gray?” asked Wayne, with his mouth full ofcracker.
“Aisy, me boy!” cried Paddy. “Don’t choke yersilf. Wait till yourtongue has more room. Gray, did you say? I know a youngster by thatname in the lower middle. He played ball on the junior nine last yearwhen they beat us by one run in twelve innings.”
“That’s the fellow. Where does he room?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll soon tell you.” Paddy found a school catalogueand turned the leaves. “Here we are: Gray, Carl Ellis, Buffalo, N. Y.,W. H. Vance’s.”
“Whereabouts is Vance’s?” asked Wayne, as he scraped the bottom of thecan.
“Just around the corner from the post office; a big, square, whitehouse with green blinds and a cat-colored roof.”
“A what?”
“Cat-colored roof--kind of a Maltese color, you know.”
“Well, I’m off. Thanks for the stuff! Tell Dave----”
“Hold on and I’ll go with you. What’s up?”
“No, you won’t; I’m going alone. I’ll tell you about it later--perhaps.”
“Well, if it’s a lark, you’re mighty mean not to let a chap into it.”
“It isn’t a lark at all. By!”
Wayne hurried out and Paddy grumblingly closed the door and watched himfrom the window.
“He’s mighty secret-like, I’m thinking, and mighty hurried. I haven’tseen him move so fast since he came. Must be something important. WishI knew, bad cess to him!”
Wayne trudged off up the village road and soon found the boarding housewith the “cat-colored roof.” Gray’s name adorned a door on the secondfloor, and Wayne’s knock elicited, after a moment, a faint “Come in!”The room was a cheerful one with four big windows, but the furnishingswere tattered and worn and the walls were almost bare of pictures. Thefloor was partly covered by a threadbare ingrain rug and the greenleather on the student desk in the center was full of holes and spots.The boy whom Wayne had seen in the principal’s office arose from achair at the desk as Wayne entered, and a half-written letter beforehim told its own story. Gray’s eyes were suspiciously red and the ladlooked embarrassed and ill at ease. Wayne, with a sudden recollectionof Professor Wheeler’s advice, plunged at once into the subject of hisvisit.
“You’re Carl Gray, aren’t you? Well, my name’s Gordon; I’m in the uppermiddle. I happened to be in Wheeler’s outer office when you were inthere. The door was partly open and I couldn’t help hearing what wassaid, and--and I’m awfully sorry, of course. But you see it wasn’t myfault.”
“I’m sorry you heard it,” answered Gray, looking piteously embarrassed;“but of course you--i
t wasn’t your fault.”
“No--was it?” asked Wayne eagerly. “So I thought that perhaps I couldhelp you, and--” He stepped forward and placed the money on the table.“There’s eleven dollars there. I couldn’t get hold of any more, butyou said you had a dollar, you know, so perhaps that’ll be enough.”Gray looked helplessly from Wayne to the money and back again. Oncehe opened his mouth, but, as he apparently could find no words, Waynewent on: “I haven’t a mother myself, you see--she died when I was justa youngster--but if I had I’d feel as you do about the bill; and ofcourse Professor Wheeler won’t send it to her if you pay this money toPorter to-day and tell him about it.”
“But I don’t see why--why you should lend me this,” said Gray, atlength. “You don’t know me and--and I can’t pay you for a good while. Idon’t get much of an allowance, and----”
“I know,” replied Wayne cheerfully. “Fifty cents a week. But pay meback when you can; I’m in no hurry. And--and you might come and see mesometime; I room in Bradley--No. 15.”
“I’ll pay you fifty cents every week until it’s all returned!” criedGray. “Why, I’d have done--done anything to keep mother from knowingabout it and having to pay it! I was such a fool, wasn’t I? Boughtclothes and gloves and lots of things that I didn’t need just becausePorter said I could charge them and that he wouldn’t ask for the moneyuntil I could pay it.”
“He ought to be kicked!” exclaimed Wayne angrily.
“He didn’t act decently,” continued Gray. “If he’d only told me lastyear I could have had it almost paid by now; but I thought there was nohurry, and--and--” He stopped and dropped his gaze; then he went on inlowered tones: “I wish I could make you understand how glad I am andhow much I thank you----”
“Oh, dry up!” said Wayne, backing toward the door and searching withhis hand for the knob. “It’s all right, and I understand. And--well, Imust hurry--got a recitation, you know--may be late now.”
He had found the knob and the last words were spoken from the hallway.
“But, I say, Gray, I wish you wouldn’t try to pay fifty cents a week tome. I don’t need it, you know, and it’s all your allowance, and----”
“I think I’d rather, if you don’t mind,” answered the younger ladresolutely. He was smiling now and looked quite healthy and happy; butsomething was glittering in the corner of his eye, and Wayne seeing it,bolted downstairs three steps at a time.
After Wayne left Hampton House Paddy went dejectedly back to his Latin,but at the end of twenty minutes found that he had remembered nothingof what he had gone over, and so tossed his book aside, yawned, glancedat the clock, and sallied forth in the direction of Academy Building.As he turned the corner he caught sight of Don coming down the stepsand gained that youth’s attention by a war whoop. Don was lookingunusually thoughtful as Paddy overtook him.
“Why, you look serious enough to have been visiting ‘Wheels’!” criedPaddy.
“That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“What--you? What’s the trouble?”
“I’ll tell you. It’s Wayne. He won’t attend gym work and he’s told‘Wheels’ as much, and ‘Wheels’ has threatened to put him on probationif he doesn’t report to Beck to-morrow.”
“But----”
“‘Wheels’ sent for me and asked me to use my persuasive powers on thesilly dub. But what can I do? Wayne’s as stubborn as a mule, and hedeclares he won’t attend; says it’s an injustice--that faculty hasn’tany right to compel him to do gym work unless he wants to.”
“Do you mean that he told all that rot to ‘Wheels’?”
“Every word, and a lot more, I guess.” Paddy whistled.
“Well, he is a chump. Where is he? He came over and borrowed some moneyawhile ago. What’s he up to now?”
“Don’t ask me,” responded Don helplessly. “What I want to know is, howcan we keep the fellow from being put on probation or suspended, for‘Wheels’ declares he’ll do both?”
“Why, we’ll get Dave, and the three of us will reason with him.”
“Pshaw! we might as well save our breath. I’d just as soon reason witha lamp-post,” answered Don, in disgust.
“Hello! there he comes now,” said Paddy. “He’s been to the village tosee some fellow by the name of Gray. Shall we walk down and try ourarguments now?”
“No; let’s wait. You and Dave come up to the room to-night and we’llsee what we can do with him,” said Don. “I hate to have him get intotrouble, because, after all, he’s a good chap.”
“Of course he is,” answered Paddy heartily, “and we’ll look after himall right. Why, if he won’t go and take his gym work like a little man,after we’ve reasoned with him, we’ll----”
Paddy stopped, grinning broadly, and slapped Don triumphantly on theshoulder.
“I have it!” he cried.
“Have what?”
“A way, my lad.”
“What is it?” asked Don eagerly.
“Why, if he refuses to go to gym to-morrow, we’ll just-- But I’ll tellyou later. Here he is. Hello, Old Virginia! where’ve you been?”
“Oh, just to the village,” answered Wayne vaguely.
“And did you spend all that money?”
“Every cent of it.”
“Well, pony up. Where are the goodies?” demanded Paddy.
“Why, I--well, the fact is----”
“Cut it out. What did you buy?”
“Nothing. Fact is I--I paid a bill.”