CHAPTER X

THE SCENE IN RIPLEY'S ROOM

"I kept the door open a little," began Pond, "so that I could hear any one who might come up the stairs. Most of the fellows were down on the ball-ground or had gone off on the hills, so there wasn't very much going on. I think I'd been waiting more than an hour before I heard a sound that was in any way suspicious, and I'll own up I began to be a little tired. I thought there wasn't any one going to come and I'd about made up my mind there wasn't any use in watching any longer, and I was just about to get a book and go to reading when I heard a step on the lower stairway. Of course there wasn't anything very bad in that, for I knew some of the fellows would be running in and out on a half-holiday, but there was something a little strange in this particular case. The fellow would come up two or three steps--and he didn't make very much noise about it either--and then he'd stop a minute before he came on."

"Was there only one?" inquired Ward, deeply interested in what Pond was relating.

"Only one then. Well, the fellow came up to the floor on which your room is and then he stopped. I couldn't see him of course, as he'd gone up to your door, I judged. I didn't just know what to do, and when I'd made up my mind to go out and take a peep over the railing, I heard the fellow come back to the head of the stairs and give a low whistle. You'd better believe I was excited about that time, but I managed somehow to keep quiet and wait. Pretty soon another fellow came up the stairs, and then I heard them go through the hall and stop, as I thought, before your door."

"Go on, go on," said Ward quickly, as Pond seemed to hesitate a moment.

"Well, I crept out of my room, and I wasn't making very much noise either, you can believe, and as I went down the stairway a few steps, trying hard all the time to keep perfectly quiet, I bent over and took a peep at your hall. There were two chaps right in front of your door."

"What were they doing?"

"They were working at the lock with a key which one of them took out of his pocket. Somehow the key didn't work very well, for I've a notion that Mike hadn't told them about the new locks he'd put on your door and mine."

"Too bad," said Ward. "Well, what did they do then?"

"One of them happened to look up and he saw me peeking at them. I tried to dodge back so that they couldn't see me, but I was too late; they'd spied me. They made a rush through the hall and up the stairs to my room, but I'd got inside before they'd come, and bolted the door. They coaxed and teased me to open up for 'em, but I wasn't to be caught by any such chaff as that, and then they began to threaten me with all sorts of terrible things. They tried too, to open my door with a key, but it wasn't of any use, and if they had had a key that would have fitted the lock it wouldn't have helped them any, for the door was bolted on the inside, you see."

"Who were the fellows?"

"One of 'em was Ripley; he rooms over in East I think, but I didn't know who the other was. I could tell him if I saw him again, though, I'm sure of that."

Ward sat silent for a moment. He knew Ripley well. He was in the class below him. He had never regarded him as a vicious boy, and the worst thing he knew about him was that he belonged to the "Tangs." He also recalled the fact that he was a great admirer of Tim Pickard, and while he was not an intimate friend, he had seen him many times in Tim's company. He was a boy Tim could easily influence and would follow any orders the leader might give him.

The mystery was becoming somewhat cleared now. Doubtless Tim was the one to whom Jack had given Mike's bunch of keys, and he had not only gone to Jack's room and obtained the bat they wanted, but he had taken the keys to Ward's and Pond's rooms from the ring at the same time. It was all clear now, and Ward felt a great relief as he satisfied himself that Jack was innocent of any knowledge or share in the stacking of his room.

"You've done well, Little Pond," said Ward warmly, as he rose to depart. "I think we can put a stop to this particular line of fun now. I think I'll go over and begin the operation at once."

"Where are you going, Ward? Can't I go with you?" called Little Pond from the head of the stairway; but Ward was already in the lower hall and made no reply. He wanted to be alone now and while his heart was hot within him to carry out the further plan he had already quickly formed.

The eager boy walked swiftly across the campus toward East Hall. He was not at all sure that he would find Ripley in his room, but he would at least find out whether he was or not, and as the bell for supper would soon be rung he wished to do that much before he went to the dining hall.

As he drew near East Hall he saw a crowd of boys returning from the ball-ground. Their presence in the building might greatly complicate matters, so he increased his speed and leaping up two steps at a time he ran up the stairs to the third floor and rapped on the door of Ripley's room.

Ripley himself opened the door, but as soon as he saw who his caller was, he tried to shut the door in his face. Ward, however, was too quick for him, and slipped into the room, and then he himself shut the door and instantly bolted it.

He was thoroughly angry now. Ripley plainly betrayed his guilt and alarm by his manner, and as Ward looked at him a moment in silence the first impulse in his heart was to mete out a summary and just punishment for the sneaking outrage of which he had been guilty.

As Ward glanced about the well-furnished room and contrasted it with his own somewhat bare apartments in West Hall, his bitterness increased. Was it not enough that he should be compelled to go without many of the things which such a fellow as Ripley had for the asking, without also having to suffer all the petty annoyances which the latter chose to inflict upon him? His anger was clearly manifest, for the troubled lad was in a towering rage, and as he realized that the boy he thought had stacked his room so many times was at last in his power, his first and natural impulse was to express his feelings in a manner which Ripley might not enjoy, but which he would certainly remember.

Ripley evidently was alarmed. His pale face and trembling hands plainly revealed that. He stood watching his caller, and not a word had as yet been spoken.

Suddenly Ripley started toward the open window. Ward instantly suspected that he was about to call to the crowd of boys who were then on the ground below and stood talking together near the entrance.

Before the boy could reach the place, however, or open his lips to call to his friends, Ward leaped before him, and standing with his back to the window, he said to the frightened lad before him:

"None of that, Ripley; keep away from these windows. I'll fix it so that they won't do you any good," he quickly added, as he instantly turned and removed the prop which held the window up. The sash fell and Ripley perceived that it would be useless to call for help, and that he stood alone before the angry young senior.

"Now, Ripley, I've come over to have it out with you." Ward spoke slowly and in a low tone of voice, but the very quietness of his manner increased the alarm of the boy before him.

"I-I d-don't know what you mean, Ward Hill; what have I done?"

"What have you done?" retorted Ward, his voice rising as his anger broke forth. "What haven't you done? Who's stacked my room almost every day? Who's poured kerosene over my bedding? Who's done the thousand and one contemptible things that no one but a sneak and a coward would ever think of doing?" Ward's anger was rapidly increasing and as he enumerated his woes, each fresh mention of them served to enrage him the more.

"I never stacked your room, Ward Hill; I've never been in it since I've been in the Weston school; I never touched your bedclothes or your lamp; I haven't been in West Hall but once since I came back to school this fall. Honest, Ward, I'm telling you the truth; I am, Ward. Won't you believe me?"

All the fear of the lad seemed to speak in his words and voice, and for a moment Ward was almost staggered. And yet had not Little Pond told him less than half an hour before that he had seen this very lad trying to get into his room? Had Pond been mistaken? No, it could not be possible. The very manner of Ripley betrayed his guilt.

"Ripley," said Ward more slowly, "you were seen in West Hall this very afternoon when you were trying to get into my room. You can't deny that." He waited a moment, but the boy before him did not speak.

"If the truth was known," continued Ward, "I believe you've got the very key you tried to use in your pocket now. What were you doing there?" he added sternly.

"I was there this afternoon, but it was my first turn--I mean the first time I'd been there. I haven't been in West Hall before this term."

Ward hesitated. Possibly Ripley was speaking truly. He knew that Tim was shrewd and it might be that he had used different boys to do his bidding at various times. The expression which Ripley had unconsciously let slip, that it was his first turn, might understood in that light. However, his disposition had been clearly manifest, even by his own confession, and Ward's feeling of anger instantly returned.

"Ripley, you've got that key to my room I believe in your pocket now. Hand it over to me and I'll let you off this time."

"Not if I know myself," replied Ripley, his courage having evidently in a measure returned as he perceived Ward's momentary hesitation.

"You won't give it to me?"

"No, I won't give it to you," replied Ripley still more boldly.

"Then I'll take it."

And as he spoke Ward quickly sprang forward and grasped the boy by the shoulder.

Instantly all of Ripley's fears returned. Before Ward fairly realized what was occurring he had emitted three or four shrieks for help.

"Help! help! Come! come! Help me! Help! Help!"

If Ward had not been so angry and startled by the unexpected sounds he would have laughed. He had not harmed the boy, for he had only grasped him roughly by the shoulder. But evidently Ripley was thoroughly alarmed by Ward's manner and believed that his last hour had come.

In a moment there was a rush of boys up the stairway and they were pounding upon the door eagerly striving to open it or break it in.

Taking advantage of Ward's momentary confusion, Ripley slipped from his grasp and hastily drew back the bolt of the door and flung it wide open. A dozen or more boys rushed into the room, Tim Pickard at their head, and stopped a moment in surprise as they gazed at the two boys.

Scarcely a word had been uttered, however, before Ward heard some one speaking in the doorway. He instantly recognized the voice as that of Mr. Crane, and his anger gave way to a feeling of embarrassment.

"What's the meaning of this?" said Mr. Crane quietly, though his manner was somewhat stern. "I want you all to go immediately to your own rooms."

The boys started to obey at once, Ward being the last to pass Mr. Crane, who stood holding the door open for them to go through.

"I'm surprised, Hill," he said quietly as Ward passed him. "You will come and explain this later to me, I am sure."

"I'm ready to explain it now," said Ward eagerly.

"Not now, Hill," said Mr. Crane, smiling for the first time as he marked the eagerness of the lad. "Come over to-morrow evening."

"I'll come," said Ward quickly. "I don't want you to think too badly of me, Mr. Crane."

"And I don't want to. I hardly think I shall have to," he added, as he noted Ward's manner.

"May I go down to Speck's room now--I mean Jack's--I mean Jack Hobart's?"

"Yes, if you think it will be safe?" said Mr. Crane quietly. "From the sounds that came from this room I thought that murder at least was being committed, and I don't want to hear a repetition of these ear-splitting screeches."

Ward left the teacher and going down to Jack's room was speedily admitted. Then he soon related the entire story before Jack and his chum Berry.

The boys listened soberly and when at last the story was ended, Jack said: "Well, Ward, it's a relief to me that you've dug the thing out. You made one mistake, though."

"What's that?"

"You ought never to have tried to chastise Ripley when he was in East Hall. Don't you know by this time that there's no fooling in any building Mr. Crane has charge of?"

"I wasn't going to chastise Ripley. All I was going to do was to take the key away from him. Of course that isn't any good, now that there's a new lock on my door; but it would be positive proof that Ripley had a hand in it, you see."

"And what good would that do you, I'd like to know? Suppose you did have the proof; you wouldn't take it over to the doctor, would you?"

"No, I don't suppose I would," said Ward slowly. "I never told on a fellow yet."

"And you're not going to begin now. It's hard lines for you, old fellow, I know that as well as you do; but it's just one of the things a chap's got to straighten out for himself. He can't report it, you know; that would only make a bad matter worse."

"I suppose you're right," said Ward soberly. He was thinking of his evening interview with Mr. Crane. He had intended to relate the circumstances just as they were, and felt positive that the teacher would sympathize with him rather than blame him.

Jack's words, however, he at once realized were true. In accordance with the false code of honor of the school, he could not cure his evils by seeking outside help. And the boys he knew were merciless in carrying out their own ideas of justice and honor.

"No, Ward; you've got to look at it just as it is. Some of the fellows are down on you, but I don't believe it'll last. I don't honestly. How can it with such a fellow as I know Ward Hill to be? It's against all reason."

"And meanwhile I'm to sit down meekly and thank these fellows who upset my room every day, am I?"

"Not at all. Not at all. But Ripley isn't the one to blame. You've got to go to the fountain head of all the trouble, as Dr. Gray so kindly informs us every day in the chapel."

"Well, Tim Pickard's the one at the bottom of it all," said Ward.

"So he is, my young friend, and he's the one to fix. Now I'm sure, with the help of Luscious here and your humble servant, you can do it, and do it this very night too."

"I don't see how," said Ward gloomily.

"No you don't; but if you'll listen with both ears I'll explain the little project I have in mind, and soon the weary valedic will put his enemies to flight, or words to that effect."

And Jack at once began to explain his "project."