CHAPTER II

WARD HILL'S DECISION

After dinner that same evening Henry Boyd came over and joined them, and for a long time the three boys sat on the vine-shielded piazza and talked about the experiences of the preceding year at Weston. At times their laughter could have been heard far up the street, for Jack Hobart was not one to permit quiet long to reign where he was.

Ward's father and mother, who had not remained with the boys after they saw that the conversation had turned to school topics, were none the less rejoiced at the change which the coming of Jack wrought in their boy. His laugh was the merriest of the three, and for a time it seemed as if the gloom which had rested over Ward all summer long had disappeared.

"I've heard from lots of the fellows," Jack was saying, "and I can tell you we're going to have the best year at Weston we have ever seen. Why, even Tim Pickard is coming back."

"Tim?" said Henry quickly, "Why, I thought he had been expelled and never could come back again."

"Oh, Tim's made it all up with Dr. Gray. He's seen the error of his ways and wants to turn over a new leaf. He's promised all sorts of things and has been studying hard with a tutor. I really think Tim means what he says too. He's not such a bad fellow, you know, after all. He's had too much money and his mother's dead, you know, and so there was no one to look after him besides his father, and he was too much interested in stocks and things to give any attention to his own flesh and blood. I believe he has written some such stuff to the doctor and promises to do his part too in looking after Tim. He's even said he'd see to it that Tim shall have only a dollar a week for spending money. Poor Tim!" added Jack with a laugh.

"If he'll only keep it up," said Henry soberly.

"Yes, if he'll only keep it up," repeated Jack. "That's the rub, I know. Tim means what he says now; no doubt about that. He's even going to take a room alone down at Ma Perrins', so that he'll be out of the way of temptation and me." And Jack's merry laugh rang out at the words. "Honestly, I don't know about his holding out though. I have my own opinion about that, but I don't mean to prophesy evil of any fellow. And then Tim's going to have some things in his favor you must remember. For example, he'll be out from under the influence of your humble servant, and that's no small thing, I'd have you know."

A silence for a brief time followed Jack's words. Ward felt that Jack in his words about Tim Pickard was really taking that means to inform him of some of the problems which would face him upon his return to Weston. That is, if he should return, for Ward was not yet decided as to what he would do.

Tim Pickard had been his most bitter enemy. Even now he could see his coarse face and hear his brutal laugh. Could he ever go back and face him? The very peacefulness of Rockford came out just then the stronger by way of contrast with the difficulties he would have to face in the school. The croaking of the distant frogs rose on the air, the fireflies were flitting about in the yard, and the soft mellow light of the moon was beginning to appear. It was the very perfection of quiet and peace. Here there were no "Tangs," no Tim Pickards, no enmities and jealousies; while the presence of his father and mother seemed to him like a shield from everything that was evil. It was so much more easy to keep out of trouble in Rockford than it was in Weston. And yet Ward knew that both his father and mother were intensely eager for him to return to the school and redeem himself. Which was better for him, to go back and face all the possible temptations and difficulties of the school life, or to remain where he was and be free from them all? In his heart Ward knew the answer. To remain in Rockford would be virtually playing the part of a coward. He would not have to meet and struggle with certain forms of evil there, but it would be a confession that he was afraid. He would lose more than he would gain, there could be no doubt as to that, but the struggle to decide was no easy matter.

Ward Hill had not yet learned the lesson that whether we do right or wrong depends far more upon ourselves than upon our surroundings. He might remain away from all his troubles, and yet he would also stay away from all that would aid him also. At first Ward had pleaded that he might be permitted to go to some other school, but his father had been firm upon that point. He had told Ward that he would do his utmost and his best for him, but if the lad wished to go on with his studies it must be at Weston and no other place for the coming year. And Ward had realized the justice and truth of his father's demand, and had hot again urged his request.

"I say, fellows," said Jack, breaking in upon the silence, "whom do you suppose I saw this summer?"

"I can't imagine," said Henry. "Perhaps it was Big Smith."

"Good guess, Henry. It was that same and no other. Yes, sir; I was with my family up in the country, and it seems it was right where Big Smith lived, but I'd forgotten all about it, if I ever knew. Well, one day I was walking down the street of the city--it's a place about the size of Rockford, you know--and there I came upon his majesty as big as life, yes, as big as Big Smith. He made a great time over me, beat Ward's reception all to pieces, if he did have all the fatted calves in the country out to greet me upon my arrival."

"Was he the same at home that he was in Western?" inquired Ward.

"Yes, just the same, only different. He had the same pompous way with him, but I tell you, fellows, Big Smith isn't so bad after all. He's just one of those chaps that's been spoiled by living in a little place, where everybody thought he was a great man because he'd once been away to school. He'd never had a fair chance to size himself up, so to speak, and when he got with a crowd of fellows he didn't know just what to make of it when they didn't all fall down before him."

Jack suddenly stopped, realizing then for the first time what he had said. Both of his companions were from a little place too, which he had just declared was not unlike Big Smith's home. Perhaps they too had suffered somewhat from the same cause which had brought about Big Smith's unpopularity. Ward, at least, realized in a measure the truth of Jack's words as applied to himself, and he felt his cheeks burn. But the dusk hid him from the sight of his companions and he said nothing.

"You know, of course, you fellows," said Jack, striving to break a part of the force of his own words, as he felt rather than saw that an unfortunate turn in the conversation had arisen, "that I don't mean that Big Smith's ever had any such homes as you have. He's had all the disadvantages without the advantages you have here, and you have all the advantages without his disadvantages. I don't think you fellows half appreciate what you've got here. But Big Smith's a horse of another color. And yet I never saw such a change come over a fellow in my life as there has in him. I couldn't hardly believe my own ears when I heard him talk."

"Why, what did he say?" said Ward quietly.

"Well, he told me about a talk he had with Mr. Crane before he left Weston, or it may have been a talk Mr. Crane had with him--I'm not sure which it was. It seems that Mr. Crane sent for him and they had a long confab. Mr. Crane got him to talking about himself, and finally led him on until he had expressed his opinion about some of the other fellows too. Finally, after he'd told of some things one of the other boys had done, Mr. Crane turned to him and said in that abrupt way of his, 'Smith, that fellow is making a fool of himself, isn't he?' Big Smith fell into the trap and I can hear his graveyard voice as he said, 'Yes, he is, and a big one too.' Upon that Mr. Crane jumped up out of his chair and looking Big Smith squarely in the face said, 'Well, Smith, that's just what you are doing too!' And then he turned and walked straight out of the room. Big Smith laughed while he was telling me all about it, and said he was never cut up about anything so in all his life, but he'd been thinking of it all summer, and had about made up his mind that Mr. Crane had the right of it. Why, fellows, I almost gasped for breath. Think of Big Smith getting off anything like that. It doesn't seem possible to me even now. Why, if Big Smith can reform there's a chance for Tim Pickard, and there must be for me."

"Then he's going back to Weston, is he?" inquired Henry.

"Yes, sir, and he says he's going to make Ward and you just bestir yourselves or he will come up to you."

"That won't be very much of a task, so far as I'm concerned," said Henry; "but if he overtakes Ward, he'll have to rise somewhat earlier in the morning than he has been accustomed to do."

Ward said nothing. He was thinking of that conversation Jack had reported as having taken place between Big Smith and Mr. Crane. Perhaps he himself was the very one of whom Big Smith had made the remark that he had 'been making a fool of himself.' And it was true; that was the worst thing about it. He had played the fool, for a lad of any brains at all would never have done as he had, he thought bitterly.

"Did you see Pond? You know he lives in the same place in which Big Smith does," said Henry.

"No, I didn't see him," replied Jack; "but I hear he's off working somewhere. At least that's what Big Smith said. I hope he'll come back; he's one of the very best fellows in the Weston school."

"That he is," said Ward eagerly; "but he's not coming back before Christmas, if he does then."

"Why not? Have you heard from him?" inquired Jack.

"Yes, he's written me two or three times. He's the only fellow I've heard from, except Jack here and Mr. Crane, though he isn't exactly a fellow."

"Oh, yes he is. Mr. Crane's one of the best fellows I ever met, if he does call me up and set me down hard in the Latin room," said Jack with a laugh. "What did Pond write you?"

"He wrote me that he'd have to stay out for the first term and try to earn some money. His younger brother is coming though."

"That will be Big Pond and Little Pond then," said Jack. "I wonder whether the fresh Pond is as good a ball player as Big Pond is? We want to fix the Burrs this fall."

"I don't believe he's as much good as that," said Ward, "because his brother has written me that he's a slight, delicate little chap, and he wants me to take him under my wing till he himself comes back."

"Couldn't be under better, my boy, couldn't be under better," said Jack. "But I don't want his coming to interfere with one of the plans I've made."

"What's that?" inquired Ward.

"Why, I want you to room with me. You see, I'll be left all alone now that Tim's going down to Ma Perrins. I need your feathers to cover me a good deal more than Little Pond ever could."

Jack spoke eagerly and his strong desire was clearly apparent in his words. Ward was deeply touched, but after a brief hesitation, he said slowly: "No, Jack, I can't do it. I hope you don't feel hurt, or think it's because I don't want to. But I've been thinking it all over, as we've been sitting here. At first I didn't see how I could go back to Weston, anyhow. I thought I'd go up just to pass my examinations and clear up last year's work, but since you've been talking here I've decided to go back, and pitch into the work and do my level best."

"Good for you, Ward Hill!" said Jack eagerly, springing up from the steps of the piazza upon which he had been seated, and slapping his friend delightedly upon the back. "Good for you! Why, do you know that's just what I came up here for? I was so afraid you weren't going to come that I just couldn't stand it, so I put straight for Rockford. Of course I'm sorry you aren't willing to room with your humble servant, though I don't know as I can find it in my heart to blame you for that. The other thing's so good though, that I'm not going to shed a tear. We'll do up the Burrs in fine style now."

"Hear me out," said Ward quietly. "I think I'd better go straight back just as I was, and if Henry here doesn't mind, I'd like to go in with him and take the same old room in West Hall and make a fresh start. If Henry doesn't feel like doing that, that will change matters a bit."

"I'm only too glad to do it," said Henry warmly. He said nothing about Ward's declining Jack's offer for he thought he understood exactly how he felt about it. He was so rejoiced over Ward's decision to return that he was eager to do all in his power to aid him now.

"That fixes it, then," said Jack enthusiastically. "Come, fellows, let's let off one of the school yells!" The three arose and gave the Weston cheer together.

The noise brought Ward's father and mother to the door, and as they appeared Jack shouted: "Ward's going back with us, Mrs. Hill! He's going to room with Henry and we'll whip the Burrs and lead the class and do all sorts of things!"

The Hill household was a happy one that night. Ward's decision had wonderfully pleased his father and mother, and he himself was surprised at the relief which had come to him. Better than ever before he realized that it meant a severe struggle for him, but the present weight at least was lifted from his heart, and in the joy which comes from facing and overcoming a difficult problem, Ward Hill was happier than he had been for many weeks past.

On the following day the three boys had a sail on the bay, and then the "afternoon train" carried Jack out of Rockford.

"Never mind fattening up any more calves for me!" he called from his place on the rear platform of the last car. "It's all right and I'll see you in a few days at Weston!"

Two weeks later, just as the sun disappeared behind the western hills, Ward and Henry alighted from the coach in Weston as it stopped before the entrance to West Hall, and running lightly up the stairway, soon entered "seventeen," the same room in which they had begun their experiences of the preceding year.