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 of gymnasium 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 must have it right away,” said Wayne peremptorily, as he shut out the draught.

“Sorry, because I haven’t got fifty cents to my name, and won’t have until 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 lend it 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 nickel ten 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 ever since September. Dave might have it. Have you had dinner? Where did you 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 the table and went to the door. “I’ll tell you about it later. I’m busy now. Has Dave got a recitation on?”

“What’s to-day--Thursday? I’m sure I don’t know. I never can keep track of 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 called Gray, 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 the gymnasium and the principal’s residence. As he went he drew a little roll of money from his vest, supplemented it with a few coins from his trousers’ pocket, and counted the whole over twice. He shook his head as he put the money away again.

“Nine dollars and forty-two cents,” he muttered, “and I can’t make any more of it if I count it all day.”

He ran up the steps to Hampton House, pushed open the broad, white door and entered the big colonial hallway. At the far end a cheerful fire was cracking in a generous chimney place, lighting up the dim gilt frames and dull canvases of the portraits of bygone Hilltonians that looked severely down from the walls. Hampton House is a dormitory whose half dozen rooms are inhabited by a few wealthy youths who find in the comfort of the great, old-fashioned apartments and the prestige that residence therein brings compensation for the high rents. Wayne turned sharply to the right and beat a tattoo with his knuckles over the black figure 2 on the door. From within came the sound of a loud voice in monotonous declamation. Wayne substituted his shoe for his knuckles and Paddy’s voice bade him enter.

“Where’s Dave?” asked Wayne. Paddy, who had been tramping up and down the apartment with a book in his hand, and declaiming pages of Cæsar’s Civil War to the chandelier, tossed the volume aside and tried to smooth down his hair, which was standing up in tumbled heaps, making him 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 as it comes; he never has any use for it himself, and it grieves me to see it 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 rummaged about until several pieces of silver rewarded his search. Then he emptied his pockets, and the two counted the result.

“Eighty-five cents,” said Paddy regretfully. “Hold on; perhaps Dave has some 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 purse which, when turned up over the study table, rained from its depths four quarters and a nickel.

“Oh, the desavin critter!” cried Paddy. “Now, where did he get all that wealth? Let’s see; that’s one dollar and ninety cents. If we could only find another dime----”

“That’ll do,” answered Wayne, as he pocketed the coins. “I’ll write home to-night and pay you back as soon as I get it. I’m awfully much obliged.”

“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 a minute ago.”

“I’ve got some crackers,” replied Paddy dubiously, “and a tin of some kind of meat. It’s been opened a good while, but I guess it’ll be all right after I scrape the mold off.”

“Bring them out, will you? I’m in a hurry, Paddy; I’ve got a recitation at 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 had predicted, the tinned beef was extremely palatable to the hungry boy after 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 of cracker.

“Aisy, me boy!” cried Paddy. “Don’t choke yersilf. Wait till your tongue has more room. Gray, did you say? I know a youngster by that name in the lower middle. He played ball on the junior nine last year when 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 catalogue and 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 the can.

“Just around the corner from the post office; a big, square, white house 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 him from the window.

“He’s mighty secret-like, I’m thinking, and mighty hurried. I haven’t seen him move so fast since he came. Must be something important. Wish I knew, bad cess to him!”

Wayne trudged off up the village road and soon found the boarding house with the “cat-colored roof.” Gray’s name adorned a door on the second floor, and Wayne’s knock elicited, after a moment, a faint “Come in!” The room was a cheerful one with four big windows, but the furnishings were tattered and worn and the walls were almost bare of pictures. The floor was partly covered by a threadbare ingrain rug and the green leather 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 a chair at the desk as Wayne entered, and a half-written letter before him told its own story. Gray’s eyes were suspiciously red and the lad looked embarrassed and ill at ease. Wayne, with a sudden recollection of Professor Wheeler’s advice, plunged at once into the subject of his visit.

“You’re Carl Gray, aren’t you? Well, my name’s Gordon; I’m in the upper middle. I happened to be in Wheeler’s outer office when you were in there. The door was partly open and I couldn’t help hearing what was said, and--and I’m awfully sorry, of course. But you see it wasn’t my fault.”

“I’m sorry you heard it,” answered Gray, looking piteously embarrassed; “but of course you--it wasn’t your fault.”

“No--was it?” asked Wayne eagerly. “So I thought that perhaps I could help 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, but you said you had a dollar, you know, so perhaps that’ll be enough.” Gray looked helplessly from Wayne to the money and back again. Once he opened his mouth, but, as he apparently could find no words, Wayne went on: “I haven’t a mother myself, you see--she died when I was just a youngster--but if I had I’d feel as you do about the bill; and of course Professor Wheeler won’t send it to her if you pay this money to Porter to-day and tell him about it.”

“But I don’t see why--why you should lend me this,” said Gray, at length. “You don’t know me and--and I can’t pay you for a good while. I don’t get much of an allowance, and----”

“I know,” replied Wayne cheerfully. “Fifty cents a week. But pay me back when you can; I’m in no hurry. And--and you might come and see me sometime; I room in Bradley--No. 15.”

“I’ll pay you fifty cents every week until it’s all returned!” cried Gray. “Why, I’d have done--done anything to keep mother from knowing about it and having to pay it! I was such a fool, wasn’t I? Bought clothes and gloves and lots of things that I didn’t need just because Porter said I could charge them and that he wouldn’t ask for the money until 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 last year I could have had it almost paid by now; but I thought there was no hurry, and--and--” He stopped and dropped his gaze; then he went on in lowered tones: “I wish I could make you understand how glad I am and how much I thank you----”

“Oh, dry up!” said Wayne, backing toward the door and searching with his hand for the knob. “It’s all right, and I understand. And--well, I must 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 to me. 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 lad resolutely. He was smiling now and looked quite healthy and happy; but something 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 nothing of what he had gone over, and so tossed his book aside, yawned, glanced at the clock, and sallied forth in the direction of Academy Building. As he turned the corner he caught sight of Don coming down the steps and gained that youth’s attention by a war whoop. Don was looking unusually thoughtful as Paddy overtook him.

“Why, you look serious enough to have been visiting ‘Wheels’!” cried Paddy.

“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 probation if he doesn’t report to Beck to-morrow.”

“But----”

“‘Wheels’ sent for me and asked me to use my persuasive powers on the silly dub. But what can I do? Wayne’s as stubborn as a mule, and he declares he won’t attend; says it’s an injustice--that faculty hasn’t any 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 money awhile ago. What’s he up to now?”

“Don’t ask me,” responded Don helplessly. “What I want to know is, how can 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 with a lamp-post,” answered Don, in disgust.

“Hello! there he comes now,” said Paddy. “He’s been to the village to see some fellow by the name of Gray. Shall we walk down and try our arguments now?”

“No; let’s wait. You and Dave come up to the room to-night and we’ll see what we can do with him,” said Don. “I hate to have him get into trouble, because, after all, he’s a good chap.”

“Of course he is,” answered Paddy heartily, “and we’ll look after him all 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 the shoulder.

“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 tell you 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.”