CHAPTER 15.
TO COLLEGE IN THE BLUEGRASS
As the school-master had foretold, there was no room at college forJack. Several times Major Buford took the dog home with him, but Jackwould not stay. The next morning the dog would turn up at the door ofthe dormitory where Chad and the school-master slept, and as a lastresort the boy had to send Jack home. So, one Sunday morning Chad ledJack out of the town for several miles, and at the top of a high hillpointed toward the mountains and sternly told him to go home. And Jack,understanding that the boy was in earnest, trotted sadly away with aplacard around his neck:
I own this dog. His name is Jack. He is on his way to Kingdom Come.Please feed him. Uncle Joel Turner will shoot any man who steels him.CHAD.
It was no little consolation to Chad to think that the faithfulsheep-dog would in no small measure repay the Turners for all they haddone for him. But Jack was the closest link that bound him to themountains, and dropping out of sight behind the crest of the hill, Chadcrept to the top again and watched Jack until he trotted out of sight,and the link was broken. Then Chad went slowly and sorrowfully back tohis room.
It was the smallest room in the dormitory that the school-master hadchosen for himself and Chad, and in it were one closet, one table, onelamp, two chairs and one bed--no more. There were two windows in thelittle room--one almost swept by the branches of a locust-tree andoverlooking the brown-gray sloping campus and the roofs andchurch-steeples of the town--the other opening to the east on a sweepof field and woodland over which the sun rose with a daily message fromthe unseen mountains far beyond and toward which Chad had sent Jacktrotting home. It was a proud day for Chad when Caleb Hazel took him to"matriculate"--leading him from one to another of the professors, whoawed the lad with their preternatural dignity, but it was a sad blowwhen he was told that in everything but mathematics he must go to thepreparatory department until the second session of the term--the"kitchen," as it was called by the students. He bore it bravely,though, and the school-master took him down the shady streets to thebusy thoroughfare, where the official book-store was, and where Chad,with pure ecstasy, caught his first new books under one arm and trudgedback, bending his head now and then to catch the delicious smell of thefresh leaves and print. It was while he was standing with his treasuresunder the big elm at the turnstile, looking across the campus at thesundown that two boys came down the gravel path. He knew them both atonce as Dan and Harry Dean. Both looked at him curiously, as hethought, but he saw that neither knew him and no one spoke. The soundof wheels came up the street behind him just then, and a carriagehalted at the turnstile to take them in. Turning, Chad saw a slendergirl with dark hair and eyes and heard her call brightly to the boys.He almost caught his breath at the sound of her voice, but he keptsturdily on his way, and the girl's laugh rang in his ears as it rangthe first time he heard it, was ringing when he reached his room,ringing when he went to bed that night, and lay sleepless, lookingthrough his window at the quiet stars.
For some time, indeed, no one recognized him, and Chad was glad. Oncehe met Richard Hunt riding with Margaret, and the piercing dark eyesthat the boy remembered so well turned again to look at him. Chadcolored and bravely met them with his own, but there was norecognition. And he saw John Morgan--Captain John Morgan--at the headof the "Lexington Rifles," which he had just formed from the bestblood of the town, as though in long preparation for that comingwar--saw him and Richard Hunt, as lieutenant, drilling them in thecampus, and the sight thrilled him as nothing else, except Margaret,had ever done. Many times he met the Dean brothers on the playgroundand in the streets, but there was no sign that he was known until hewas called to the blackboard one day in geometry, the only course inwhich he had not been sent to the "kitchen." Then Chad saw Harry turnquickly when the professor called his name. Confused though he was fora moment, he gave his demonstration in his quaint speech with perfectclearness and without interruption from the professor, who gave the boya keen look as he said, quietly:
"Very good, sir!" And Harry could see his fingers tracing in hisclass-book the figures that meant a perfect recitation.
"How are you, Chad?" he said in the hallway afterward.
"Howdye!" said Chad, shaking the proffered hand.
"I didn't know you--you've grown so tall. Didn't you know me?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you speak to me?"
"'Cause you didn't know ME."
Harry laughed. "Well, that isn't fair. See you again."
"All right," said Chad.
That very afternoon Chad met Dan in a football game--an old-fashionedgame, in which there were twenty or thirty howling lads on each sideand nobody touched the ball except with his foot--met him so violentlythat, clasped in each other's arms, they tumbled to the ground.
"Leggo!" said Dan.
"S'pose you leggo!" said Chad.
As Dan started after the ball he turned to look at Chad and after thegame he went up to him.
"Why, aren't you the boy who was out at Major Buford's once?"
"Yes." Dan thrust out his hand and began to laugh. So did Chad, andeach knew that the other was thinking of the tournament.
"In college?"
"Math'matics," said Chad. "I'm in the kitchen fer the rest."
"Oh!" said Dan. "Where you living?" Chad pointed to the dormitory, andagain Dan said "Oh!" in a way that made Chad flush, but added, quickly:
"You better play on our side to-morrow."
Chad looked at his clothes--foot-ball seemed pretty hard on clothes--"Idon't know," he said--"mebbe."
It was plain that neither of the boys was holding anything againstChad, but neither had asked the mountain lad to come to see him--anomission that was almost unforgivable according to Chad's socialethics. So Chad proudly went into his shell again, and while the threeboys met often, no intimacy developed. Often he saw them with Margaret,on the street, in a carriage or walking with a laughing crowd of boysand girls; on the porticos of old houses or in the yards; and, onenight, Chad saw, through the wide-open door of a certain old house onthe corner of Mill and Market Streets, a party going on; and Margaret,all in white, dancing, and he stood in the shade of the trees oppositewith new pangs shooting through him and went back to his room indesolate loneliness, but with a new grip on his resolution that his ownday should yet come.
Steadily the boy worked, forging his way slowly but surely toward thehead of his class in the "kitchen," and the school-master helped himunwearyingly. And it was a great help--mental and spiritual--to be nearthe stern Puritan, who loved the boy as a brother and was ever ready toguide him with counsel and aid him with his studies. In time the Majorwent to the president to ask him about Chad, and that august dignitaryspoke of the lad in a way that made the Major, on his way through thecampus, swish through the grass with his cane in great satisfaction. Healways spoke of the boy now as his adopted son and, whenever it waspossible, he came in to take Chad out home to spend Sunday with him;but, being a wise man and loving Chad's independence, he let the boyhave his own way. He had bought the filly--and would hold her, he said,until Chad could buy her back, and he would keep the old nag as abroodmare and would divide profits with Chad--to all of which the boyagreed. The question of the lad's birth was ignored between them, andthe Major rarely spoke to Chad of the Deans, who were living in townduring the winter, nor questioned him about Dan or Harry or Margaret.But Chad had found out where the little girl went to church, and everySunday, despite Caleb Hazel's protest, he would slip into the Episcopalchurch, with a queer feeling--little Calvinist of the hills that hewas--that it was not quite right for him even to enter that church; andhe would watch the little girl come in with her family and, after thequeer way of these "furriners," kneel first in prayer. And there, withsoul uplifted by the dim rich light and the peal of the organ, he wouldsit watching her; rising when she rose, watching the light from thewindows on her shining hair and sweet-spirited face, watching herreverent little head bend in obeisance to the name of the Maste
r,though he kept his own held straight, for no Popery like that was forhim. Always, however, he would slip out before the service was quiteover and never wait even to see her come out of church. He was tooproud for that and, anyhow, it made him lonely to see the peoplegreeting one another and chatting and going off home together whenthere was not a soul to speak to him. It was just one such Sunday thatthey came face to face for the first time. Chad had gone down thestreet after leaving the church, had changed his mind and was goingback to his room. People were pouring from the church, as he went by,but Chad did not even look across. A clatter rose behind him and heturned to see a horse and rockaway coming at a gallop up the street,which was narrow. The negro driver, frightened though he was, had senseenough to pull his running horse away from the line of vehicles infront of the church so that the beast stumbled against the curb-stone,crashed into a tree, and dropped struggling in the gutter below anotherline of vehicles waiting on the other side of the street. Likelightning, Chad leaped and landed full length on the horse's head andwas tossed violently to and fro, but he held on until the animal laystill.
"Unhitch the hoss," he called, sharply.
"Well, that was pretty quick work for a boy," said a voice across thestreet that sounded familiar, and Chad looked across to see GeneralDean and Margaret watching him. The boy blushed furiously when his eyesmet Margaret's and he thought he saw her start slightly, but he loweredhis eyes and hurried away.
It was only a few days later that, going up from town toward thecampus, he turned a corner and there was Margaret alone and movingslowly ahead of him. Hearing his steps she turned her head to see whoit was, but Chad kept his eyes on the ground and passed her withoutlooking up. And thus he went on, although she was close behind him,across the street and to the turnstile. As he was passing through, avoice rose behind him:
"You aren't very polite, little boy." He turned quickly--Margaret hadnot gone around the corner: she, too, was coming through the campus andthere she stood, grave and demure, though her eyes were dancing.
"My mamma says a NICE little boy always lets a little GIRL go FIRST."
"I didn't know you was comin' through."
"Was comin' through!" Margaret made a little face as though tosay--"Oh, dear."
"I said I didn't know you were coming through this way."
Margaret shook her head. "No," she said; "no, you didn't."
"Well, that's what I meant to say." Chad was having a hard time withhis English. He had snatched his cap from his head, had stepped backoutside the stile and was waiting to turn it for her. Margaret passedthrough and waited where the paths forked.
"Are you going up to the college?" she asked.
"I was--but I ain't now--if you'll let me walk a piece with you." Hewas scarlet with confusion--a tribute that Chad rarely paid his kind.His way of talking was very funny, to be sure, but had she not heardher father say that "the poor little chap had had no chance in life;"and Harry, that some day he would be the best in his class?
"Aren't you--Chad?"
"Yes--ain't you Margaret--Miss Margaret?"
"Yes, I'm Margaret." She was pleased with the hesitant title and theboy's halting reverence.
"An' I called you a little gal." Margaret's laugh tinkled in merryremembrance. "An' you wouldn't take my fish."
"I can't bear to touch them."
"I know," said Chad, remembering Melissa.
They passed a boy who knew Chad, but not Margaret. The lad took off hishat, but Chad did not lift his; then a boy and a girl and, when onlythe two girls spoke, the other boy lifted his hat, though he did notspeak to Margaret. Still Chad's hat was untouched and when Margaretlooked up, Chad's face was red with confusion again. But it never tookthe boy long to learn and, thereafter, during the walk his hat came offunfailingly. Everyone looked at the two with some surprise and Chadnoticed that the little girl's chin was being lifted higher and higher.His intuition told him what the matter was, and when they reached thestile across the campus and Chad saw a crowd of Margaret's friendscoming down the street, he halted as if to turn back, but the littlegirl told him imperiously to come on. It was a strange escort forhaughty Margaret--the country-looking boy, in coarse homespun--butMargaret spoke cheerily to her friends and went on, looking up at Chadand talking to him as though he were the dearest friend she had onearth.
At the edge of town she suggested that they walk across a pasture andgo back by another street, and not until they were passing through thewoodland did Chad come to himself.
"You know I didn't rickollect when you called me 'little boy.'"
"Indeed!"
"Not at fust, I mean," stammered Chad.
Margaret grew mock-haughty and Chad grew grave. He spoke very slowlyand steadily. "I reckon I rickollect ever'thing that happened out thara sight better'n you. I ain't forgot nothin'--anything."
The boy's sober and half-sullen tone made Margaret catch her breathwith a sudden vague alarm.
Unconsciously she quickened her pace, but, already, she was mistress ofan art to which she was born and she said, lightly:
"Now, that's MUCH better." A piece of pasteboard dropped from Chad'sjacket just then, and, taking the little girl's cue to swerve from thepoint at issue, he picked it up and held it out for Margaret to read.It was the first copy of the placard which he had tied around Jack'sneck when he sent him home, and it set Margaret to laughing and askingquestions. Before he knew it Chad was telling her about Jack and themountains; how he had run away; about the Turners and about Melissa andcoming down the river on a raft--all he had done and all he meant todo. And from looking at Chad now and then, Margaret finally kept hereyes fixed on his--and thus they stood when they reached the gate,while crows flew cawing over them and the air grew chill.
"And did Jack go home?"
Chad laughed.
"No, he didn't. He come back, and I had to hide fer two days. Then,because he couldn't find me he did go, thinking I had gone back to themountains, too. He went to look fer me."
"Well, if he comes back again I'll ask my papa to get them to let youkeep Jack at college," said Margaret.
Chad shook his head.
"Then I'll keep him for you myself." The boy looked his gratitude, butshook his head again.
"He won't stay."
Margaret asked for the placard again as they moved down the street.
"You've got it spelled wrong," she said, pointing to "steel." Chadblushed. "I can't spell when I write," he said. "I can't eventalk--right."
"But you'll learn," she said.
"Will you help me?"
"Yes."
"Tell me when I say things wrong?"
"Yes."
"Where'm I goin' to see you?"
Margaret shook her head thoughtfully: then the reason for her speakingfirst to Chad came out.
"Papa and I saw you on Sunday, and papa said you must be very strong aswell as brave, and that you knew something about horses. Harry told uswho you were when papa described you, and then I remembered. Papa toldHarry to bring you to see us. And you must come," she said, decisively.
They had reached the turnstile at the campus again.
"Have you had any more tournaments?" asked Margaret.
"No," said Chad, apprehensively.
"Do you remember the last thing I said to you?"
"I rickollect that better'n anything," said Chad.
"Well, I didn't hate you. I'm sorry I said that," she said gently. Chadlooked very serious.
"That's all right," he said. "I seed--I saw you on Sunday, too."
"Did you know me?"
"I reckon I did. And that wasn't the fust time." Margaret's eyes wereopening with surprise.
"I been goin' to church ever' Sunday fer nothin' else but just to seeyou." Again his tone gave her vague alarm, but she asked:
"Why didn't you speak to me?"
They were nearing the turnstile across the campus now, and Chad did notanswer.
"Why didn't you speak to me?"
Chad stopped
suddenly, and Margaret looked quickly at him, and saw thathis face was scarlet. The little girl started and her own face flamed.There was one thing she had forgotten, and even now she could notrecall what it was--only that it was something terrible she must notknow--old Mammy's words when Dan was carried in senseless after thetournament. Frightened and helpless, she shrank toward the turnstile,but Chad did not wait. With his cap in his hand, he turned abruptly,without a sound, and strode away.