CHAPTER XV

OUTSIDE LESSONS

"Now, Hill," said Mr. Crane, as Ward stopped for a moment in the doorway, "I trust I have not said too much to you."

The teacher's kindly tones and grave manner impressed Ward even more than what he had been saying, and with a face that beamed in spite of the marks which the dust of the ball-ground had left, the boy, far more light-hearted than he had been for many weeks now, said: "You have done me lots of good, Mr. Crane."

"Let us hope that it will prove to be so. I rejoice with you that the muskets of Lexington have been heard, now let us see to it that the guns of Yorktown shall also be heard. Or to put it in another way, the victory of a Bull Run does not always mean that the same parties are in similar conditions at Appomattox. The declaration of independence did not of itself make the colonies free. They had to prove their right and ability to be free; but still the declaration had to come first. You have fought at Lexington, and have declared your independence, and I think too you have had your Trenton and Princeton. Now if Valley Forge and Benedict Arnold come along why you will not forget what followed them. But I don't mean to stand here and croak of possible ills. I am confident now, Hill, that you are beginning to be master of yourself, and that is what the discipline and training of a school course and school life are for. Come and see me again soon, Hill. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, Mr. Crane," said Ward; and then he started directly across the campus toward his room to prepare for supper.

Somehow he was feeling strangely elated. He could not see that there had been any radical change in himself or in his relations with his fellows, but the trial of the afternoon on the ball-ground had been passed, and he had played a game which certainly must have proven to all that whether he was on the nine or not, there was no one in the school who could do better.

And he could not fail to see too the change which already had become manifest in the feelings of many of the boys toward him. The surprise with which they had first observed him when he went out on the field, the sneers of Tim Pickard, reflected in a measure by some of his boon companions, the remarks which his appearance had called forth, had all soon changed, that is, all save Tim's malice, which had given place to an expression of intense and bitter hatred.

Still Ward thought he could endure that. His vigorous body was still tingling from the effects of his exercise, and the words of Mr. Crane were still sounding in his ears. Added to all that was the evident pleasure of the spectators which his ability as a player had aroused, and the cordial encouragement of the one teacher in the school whom he most respected and loved. Ward was beginning to feel as if life were not such a heavy burden after all.

"Well, Ward, that was a great game you put up this afternoon," said Henry, as his room-mate entered the room. "The way in which you batted Tim almost broke him up."

"Did it?" said Ward lightly, as he at once began to wash.

"It did that, and it tickled the rest of us, or rather some of us, mightily too. Tim will soon have to give you back your place on the nine."

"No, he'll not do that," replied Ward quickly. "Tim's got enough of the nine under his thumb to have his say, and I know he'd rather leave than have me on the team."

"But surely, Ward, after to-day's work you'll not object to Jack's proposal?"

"Jack's proposal? I don't know just what you mean."

"Why, that he and I should tell Tim that he must take you back or we'd leave the nine."

"No. I never should agree to that," replied Ward quietly. "I'd never want to get on the nine in that way. I'd stay off forever before I'd do that. Not that I don't thank you," he hastily added, as he saw an expression of genuine disappointment creeping over his room-mate's face. "It's mighty good of you and Jack, and I'll never forget it, either. But, you see, even if I were willing to go on in that way, Tim still has the most of the nine, and I think the most of the school too, on his side, and I think it would break up the team. And with the game coming on with the Burrs so soon now, that would never do, you see."

"Still, I wish you were on the nine, Ward," said Henry. "I want you, and the nine needs you."

"Oh, well," replied Ward, speaking far more lightly than he felt, "it'll all come out right in the end. Jordan's a hard road to travel, but I've got to take things as they come."

"You're doing great work in the classes, anyway, Ward. Dr. Gray told me the other night that your reports were great so far in the term."

"Did he say that?" said Ward eagerly, his hunger for praise returning in an instant.

"Yes, that's just what he said."

"Well, that's enough without making the nine."

Ward's prophecy proved to be correct. Unknown to him Henry and Jack went and had a talk with Tim Pickard, but the captain of the nine utterly refused to listen to any plea in Ward's behalf. He threatened, if they persisted in pressing his claims, to throw up his own position and take with him the four members of the team whom he controlled, and with the aid of whose votes he was always able to have his own way, as with his own vote they made a majority.

Neither of the boys informed Ward of their efforts on his behalf, fearing that the failure might serve to dampen the returning ardor which he now displayed.

And Ward longed to be on the nine too. Conscious of his own ability as a player, and eager as he was for the excitement of the games and the applause of his fellows, it was no slight disappointment to feel that he was shut off from it all, and that he was powerless to change the conditions that surrounded him.

He did not go down to the grounds every day, for that seemed to him too much as if he were pushing for his former place on the nine. Still, he went there frequently and willingly taking any position assigned him on the scrub team, threw himself into the game with all his heart.

Meanwhile he did not neglect his lessons. Come what might, he was resolved to do well in them. As the days passed his own pleasure increased as he saw that no one in the class was doing better than he. Berry thus far was his most dangerous competitor, for "Luscious" was a bright fellow and not one to shirk his work. His influence on Jack too, was becoming apparent, and Jack's class work was far better than any he had ever done in the course of his three years at Weston.

Jack seemed to rejoice in his own success too, and made many sly references to the honors he was hoping to win. Indeed, he was accustomed now to refer to himself and Ward and Luscious when the three by chance were together as the "three valedics."

"And the greater of the three--ah, that's a secret. That's to be revealed in the forthcoming chapters, as the books say," he would laughingly add.

Another change also became manifest in Ward. There was no more surprised boy in all the Weston school than Big Smith, when one morning on his way to the Latin room Ward overtook him and walked on by his side.

"Got your lesson, Smith?" said Ward.

"No, not all of it. I fear I'm like the men that toiled all night and took nothing. I've been studying hours and hours on one passage here, but somehow I can't get it."

"Which is it?" said Ward cordially. "Perhaps I can give you a lift."

"If you only would, Ward," said Big Smith eagerly, as he opened the book at the difficult passage.

Ward translated the passage, and when he had finished, Big Smith said: "I don't understand how it is, Ward, that you can do these things and I can't. My brain is larger than yours," and Big Smith removed his hat and thoughtfully stroked his hair as he spoke. "Now I've always heard that the size of a man's head was the measure of his ability, and I know my hat is two sizes larger than yours, Ward. And yet you could read that place and I couldn't," he added ruefully. "How do you account for it, Ward?"

"Quality, not quantity," said Ward with a laugh, who was light-hearted in the consciousness of having helped another, a comparatively new experience for him.

The consequences of that act made Ward afterward somewhat dubious as to the real benefits he had bestowed on his classmate. Almost every evening Big Smith obtained permission from Mr. Blake to go up to Ward's room, and for a long time he would remain there and listen to Ward as he translated the difficult passages for him.

At last his presence during the study hour became a burden. "Big Smith is an unmitigated nuisance," Henry declared. The boys posted great notices on their door which bore such alarming headlines as "Smallpox within," "This is my busy day," "No one admitted except on business," "Danger," and other similar mild and suggestive devices. But Big Smith calmly ignored them all, and every night when the study hour was about half done would appear, and with his unmoved and benign countenance ask for the aid which Ward never refused him now.

At last Henry declared it could be borne no longer, and as Ward knew how hard the work was for his chum and how Big Smith's interruptions confused him, he uttered no protest when Henry boldly told the intruder one night that if he wanted help he must come for it out of study hours.

"But I don't ask you for help, Henry," replied Big Smith in apparent surprise.

"I know that; but you're imposing on Ward's good nature, and I can't study when you two fellows are talking. Besides, I don't think it's the square thing for you to take Ward's work into class as your own."

"But I don't," protested Big Smith warmly. "I never in my life took his work into class."

"Why don't you get a pony, Big Smith? That would be the easiest way out of it."

"Me get a pony? Do you think I'd use a translation? Not much. I'm thankful for one thing, and that is, I never have used a pony, as you call it, yet."

"What do you call it when you come up here and get Ward to read your Latin and Greek to you, I'd like to know."

"That? Oh, that's not a pony. That's just Ward Hill."

Both his hearers laughed in spite of their efforts to restrain themselves, Big Smith meanwhile looking from one to the other as if he were not quite able to see the joke.

"No, Big Smith," said Henry at last, "I don't want to be small or mean, but I have to work hard for all I get, and when you come up here in study hours you just break me all up. I don't mind it any other time; but it doesn't seem to me just the square thing to break in on another fellow's time. I wouldn't do it; it doesn't seem to me that Mr. Blake ought to let you do it, either. What are the study hours for?"

"I'm sure I don't want to come here if I'm not wanted," replied Big Smith soberly.

"That's not it; that's not it at all," protested Henry. "It's only for a quiet study hour I'm arguing. I don't think you ought to break in on another fellow's work. Now, do you?"

"But," said Big Smith in his most solemn tones, "all my teachers say I've been doing a great deal better work of late. I'm sure you wouldn't want me to drop back in my work or stand lower in the class, would you?"

With a hopeless sigh Henry turned again to his work. It seemed as if it were almost impossible to impress the conception of the needs of any one else on Big Smith's mind.

Ward, however, finally adjusted matters to the satisfaction of both by promising his aid to Big Smith after breakfast each morning, in the hour between breakfast time and chapel. In his new desire to follow out Jack's suggestion and make himself familiar and helpful to his companions, he never once thought of the harm he might be doing Big Smith. Indeed he went much further, and soon a number of the boys in the class joined Big Smith each morning and listened to Ward as he read aloud the lessons of the day.

And Ward was thinking only of the aid he was giving, not at all of the harm the others might receive. But then we are told in many ways outside the realm of physics that the reaction is always equal to the action. Perhaps Ward Hill, however, was yet to learn that lesson--a lesson which certainly each must learn for himself and not for another.

Meanwhile, through all these days Ward's room not been touched. Whoever had done the "stacking" had now, at least for a time, ceased from his labors. That there was still a very bitter feeling against him on the part of many he well knew, nor could he attribute it all to the immediate circle of the "Tangs."

Ward felt the prejudice keenly, but he resolutely held himself to his work, and by the aid he gave the boys in their lessons and by mingling with them more than he had done of late, he was hoping to win his way back to the position he had once held in the school.

Nor was this born of a weak desire for popularity alone. That was true in part, but only in part; but Ward Hill, as we have said, was one of those few persons who cannot deceive themselves.

And he had realized the truthfulness of Jack's and Mr. Crane's words, and was now resolutely trying to set himself right. While he longed for and keenly enjoyed the praise and good-will of his fellows, still unless he felt in his heart that they were true and deserved he did not feel thoroughly happy in receiving them. So perhaps a dual motive was at work at this time on Ward's heart--the eager longing for the praise of the school and the equally strong desire to feel that it was true and merited. Let us not blame him too harshly. Purely good motives are sadly lacking in this world of ours. And then, even a gold coin contains some alloy, but the most of us are not inclined to reject the use which can be made of it because of the baser metal it contains.

Little Pond was now doing nobly. He looked up to Ward with unbounded confidence. Ward more than once found himself wondering whether he had ever looked up to a senior in that way. Still he rejoiced in the little fellow's success and felt strongly drawn to him, although he knew in his heart that his days of trial were not all past.

And now the approaching game with the Burrs became the absorbing topic of the school. The nine was working vigorously and Ward went down more frequently to play on the team which was to give them their daily practice.

No one knew how heavy his heart was and with what unutterable longing he desired his place on the team. Still he held himself resolutely to the line he had marked out. He studied faithfully, tried to make himself friendly with the boys, and apparently threw himself heartily into the task of giving the nine the practice they sadly needed. And no one heard him complain, and not even to Jack did he mention his desire for his former position, a position now filled by Ripley. And yet somehow he had the feeling that Jack understood, although neither made any reference to it now.

So matters stood on the day before the great game. The final preparations had been completed, the last practice of the nine had occurred, and throughout the school there was the strong though subdued excitement which always preceded the great game.

But Ward Hill, with a heavy heart and a kind of dull misery, looked forward to the morrow.