CHAPTER XIV

DAN JOINS A CONSPIRACY

The story of Dan’s adventure had preceded him up Yardley Hill, and when he reached the locker room in the gymnasium at a few moments before half-past eleven there was a murmur of interest from the fellows who were getting into their gymnasium suits. Several of the fellows Dan knew well enough to speak to and these greeted him heartily, while one or two others, who had never before accorded him more than nods, now went out of their ways to call him by name. Joe Chambers, one of the editors of the _Scholiast_, had to have the story of the affair while Dan was changing his clothes.

“This isn’t for publication, Vinton,” he assured him seriously, “but--”

“Well, I should hope not!” laughed Dan. “If you go and put anything about it in your little old paper I’ll sue you for libel.”

“No, but go on and tell about it,” begged Chambers. Dan glanced rather embarrassedly about the little circle which had collected.

“Why, there isn’t much to tell, Chambers,” he said finally. “I was going along the path by the Pennimore grounds when I heard a dog howling. And then I smelled smoke and looked through the fence and saw young Pennimore--his name is Gerald--”

“I know,” said Chambers, “a regular little runt.”

“Well, he had started a fire in a play-house that stood down there by the fence and was going to have the fun of putting it out with fire-extinguishers. Somehow the dog, a dandy Irish setter, had got inside and when I got there he was howling like the mischief. So Gerald and I started to get him out. But by that time the place was pretty full of smoke and Gerald couldn’t see and fell and hit his head against a table. That knocked him out and so I went in and got him. It was pretty hot, of course, but there wasn’t any especial danger.”

“Didn’t you get burned at all?” asked a small boy on the edge of the circle.

“No, only a couple of little places on my arm and leg.”

“Let’s see,” said someone, eagerly.

“Oh, they are bandaged. They took Gerald and me up to the house and put us to bed. Mr. Pennimore was dandy and I had a great old time; had my dinner and breakfast in bed. Then--”

But at that moment the gong clanged and they swarmed upstairs to the gymnasium and took their places at the chest-weights. At dinner time Dan had to tell his story over again to the fellows at his table.

“Pshaw, that isn’t the way I heard it,” said Paul Rand. “I heard that it was the kennels that was on fire and that you and the Pennimore kid went in to rescue the dogs and that he was overcome by the smoke and you carried him out in your arms. I’ll bet you’re lying, Vinton.” Dan assured him earnestly that his version was the correct one and Rand finally believed him. But everyone was especially attentive to Dan that day and for a day or two afterwards, and the school proclaimed him a hero. The Third Class got quite puffed up about it and put on so many airs that the Fourth Class took umbrage and started a rumor to the effect that the truth of the matter was that Dan had been stealing apples, had been caught by one of the grooms or the gardener and locked up in the stable over night. As a result there were several pitched battles between Third and Fourth Class boys during the next few days. But I am anticipating.

After dinner Dan was summoned to the office which he found occupied by Mr. Collins, the Assistant Principal, and Mr. Forisher, the secretary. Mr. Collins greeted him cordially and shook hands with him. Mr. Forisher looked up an instant from his work and bowed almost pleasantly.

“Well, Vinton,” said the Assistant Principal, “I hear you have been making a hero of yourself.”

“Not much of one, sir,” answered Dan.

“No? Well, Mr. John T. Pennimore tells a different story. What you did was very well done, I should say. Just come inside here a moment, please; the Doctor wants to see you.”

The door marked “Private” was opened and Dan passed through at Mr. Collins’ heels. In front of a big, old-fashioned walnut desk sat Doctor Hewitt. Dan had never spoken to the Principal and felt a trifle alarmed. Doctor Tobias Hewitt was short, thick-set and very sturdy looking. In spite of his years--for he was almost seventy--his cheeks were ruddy, his face singularly free from wrinkles and he held himself perfectly erect. He had a fine, kindly face and a very pleasant voice.

“Doctor, this is Vinton, of the Third,” said Mr. Collins.

“To be sure,” exclaimed the Doctor, rising from his chair and taking Dan’s hand. “And a credit to the school, Mr. Collins. I’m glad to make your nearer acquaintance, Vinton. You did a splendid thing yesterday. I thank you on my own behalf. I’m glad that one of my boys showed such admirable courage.”

“It wasn’t anything, sir,” said Dan, sheepishly.

“Your modesty is commendable,” replied the Principal, “but that is as it should be; bravery and modesty should go together. Mr. Pennimore has spoken very highly of you, my boy, and Mr. Pennimore is a gentleman whom we hold in excellent regard. By the way, Mr. Collins, Mr. Pennimore requested that Vinton should be allowed to visit his house. I think we can give that permission, can we not?”

“Certainly, sir. Vinton shall have permission to visit Mr. Pennimore whenever he likes outside of recitation hours. Of course should you wish to go there in the evening, Vinton, it will be necessary to obtain special permission.”

“Thank you, sir,” murmured Dan.

“You are getting along well with your work?” asked the Doctor, genially.

“Yes, sir, I think so.”

“That’s well, that’s well. School work is your first duty, Vinton, to yourself and your parents, you know; and to us, too; yes, yes, to us, too. Well, that’s all, I fancy, Mr. Collins. Good morning, Vinton. I’m very glad to have seen you. I hope our meetings will always be as pleasant as this has been.” And the Doctor laughed merrily.

Dan muttered his thanks and followed Mr. Collins back into the outer office. Mr. Collins drew a chair up to his desk and pointed to it as he took his own seat.

“Sit down a moment, Vinton,” he said pleasantly. “You have no recitation coming?”

“Not until two, sir. I have English then.”

Mr. Collins glanced at the clock.

“We have half an hour, then, but I shan’t keep you more than ten minutes. I suppose you saw something of Mr. Pennimore’s son yesterday, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, tell me quite confidentially what you think of him.” Dan hesitated. “I mean give me your opinion of him, Vinton. What does he seem like? Clever? Manly? The sort of boy you’d like to know?”

“Well, sir, of course I didn’t see a great deal of him, but I rather liked him. He doesn’t look very strong, but I think he doesn’t get enough outdoor exercise. And he studies pretty hard, I guess, from what he told me. He has a private tutor, you know.”

“So I understand. Should you say he was--well, a bit spoiled, Vinton?”

“Well, a little, maybe, but not so much, sir. I think that if his father would send him to school and let him know other fellows it would do him good.”

“I think you’re right,” said Mr. Collins heartily. “Mr. Pennimore spoke once to the Doctor of sending the boy here, but that was over a year ago and we’ve heard nothing more about it. We’d like to have him, to tell the truth, Vinton. This is quite between ourselves, if you please; I’d rather you didn’t mention our little talk to anyone. The fact is that Broadwood is after Mr. Pennimore to have him send his boy there. I know that for a fact; we learn of these things, you know. And of course it will be something of a feather in Broadwood’s cap if they get him, just as it would be a feather in our cap if he should come here. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you hear Mr. Pennimore or the boy say anything about this matter?”

“No, sir, I didn’t. I understood that he was to have a new tutor, sir.”

“I see. I suppose, now, that you will see something of Mr. Pennimore and the boy, eh? You’re likely to go to the house pretty often?”

“I hardly know, sir. Mr. Pennimore has asked me to come, and so has Gerald, and I promised to go over Friday. And Gerald is coming to see me Saturday.”

“Excellent! I wonder--” Mr. Collins paused and frowned at the ink-well. “No, better not, maybe,” he muttered. “You might show him around the school, Vinton, when he comes; let him see what sort of a place we have here, eh?”

“I thought I would, sir.”

“Do! Try and interest him in our school. Look here, I’m going to make a clean breast of it to you. I want to get that boy here at Yardley. I want to beat Broadwood. You can understand that, I guess? Of course it will be a good advertisement for the school to have Mr. Pennimore’s son come to us, and in this age it is as necessary for a school to advertise as it is for any other business. But aside from that I want to get ahead of Broadwood. Now, will you help me?”

“Why, yes, sir,” answered Dan. “I’d like to beat Broadwood, too. Only--it sounds like a conspiracy, doesn’t it? Do you think it would be fair?”

“Quite,” answered Mr. Collins decisively. “You can be open and aboveboard about it. Tell the boy that you want him to come here; tell Mr. Pennimore so, too. Try and interest them both in the school life, in our athletics. If you can, introduce the boy to some of your friends here; get him to come over and see you now and then. I was going to suggest that when he visited you Saturday you might bring him over and introduce him to the Doctor; all boys like the Doctor at first sight; but maybe that had better come later. We’ll call it a conspiracy, if you like, Vinton, but it will be an honest and open conspiracy. Now what do you say?”

“I’m in on it, sir!” answered Dan eagerly. “I’d like to beat Broadwood and I’d like to have Gerald come here to school, anyway. It would do him good, Mr. Collins. I’ll do what I can, sir. I know that Gerald would love to go to school somewhere and I guess he would just as lief come here as anywhere.”

“Good! Well, the conspiracy is started then,” said Mr. Collins with a smile. “You do what you can, Vinton, and let me know what progress you make. I’d like to meet the boy myself, but I don’t want to let him think we’re trying to kidnap him, so maybe I’d better keep out of it until the right moment comes. I’m much obliged for your help, Vinton, and if the time comes that I can be of assistance to you--of course I mean without detriment to my duty--I hope you’ll call on me.”

If Dan walked down the corridor and out of Oxford with a suggestion of a swagger you can hardly blame him. It seemed to him that he was getting to be a rather important person, and he felt a little bit proud about it. Even if he had failed at making the football team he had been asked to help the team to success, and now his services had been enlisted by the school office to recruit Gerald Pennimore. Things were quite different from two weeks ago when he had known practically no one in the school and had seemed like the merest nonentity! His mind was so full of Gerald Pennimore’s capture that Old Tige shook his head sadly and remarked to the class at large that heroism and rhetoric didn’t seem to step together. Dan blushed and the rest of the fellows laughed.

After class Dan went to his room to study, for he had missed Latin and mathematics that morning. To his relief he found that Tubby was absent. Perhaps he had been coaxed forth by the glory of the Fall weather or perhaps he had run out of reading matter and had gone to borrow a book somewhere. At all events, he was not at home, and Dan was very glad of it, for Tubby had shown an inclination to be extremely sarcastic and disagreeable over yesterday’s affair.

At half-past five there was a sharp knock on the door and in response to Dan’s “Come in, whoever you are!” Mr. Payson entered.

“Hello, Vinton,” he said. “How badly were you hurt in that little rescue act of yours?”

“Not at all, sir,” answered Dan as he pulled a chair forward for the visitor. “At least, I only got a little burn on my arm and one on my leg.”

“Can you use them?”

“Yes, sir, they don’t hurt; just smart a little at times.”

The coach looked troubled.

“Well, you know if you hadn’t cut practice yesterday you wouldn’t have got into trouble. I suppose it was just as well to keep away to-day, but I guess you’ll be fit to-morrow. You’d better see Mr. Ryan in the morning and let him see your burns.”

“But--” began Dan bewilderedly.

“Now, look here, Vinton,” interrupted Mr. Payson sharply, “I don’t want to be nasty, for you did a plucky thing yesterday and we’re all proud of you. But it’s got to be understood that cutting practice doesn’t go. You’re a new boy and probably you didn’t understand. The only way you can stay away from practice without getting into trouble with me is to see Mr. Ryan. If he says you can lay off, all right. Otherwise I want you to be on hand promptly every afternoon.”

“But--”

“If you can’t do that I want you to say so and I’ll accept your resignation from the squad.”

“But I’m not on the squad!” exclaimed Dan.

“Not what?”

“I’m not on the squad, sir! I guess you’ve forgotten. You dropped me, Mr. Payson.”

“I dropped you? Nothing of the sort, Vinton! I posted a list on the board Monday afternoon. You should have read it.”

“I did read it,” answered Dan, smiling. “My name wasn’t on it.” Mr. Payson looked nonplussed.

“Are you certain?” he asked.

“You bet I am! I read it three or four times, sir.”

“Well, I don’t see how that happened,” mused the coach. “I meant to put you down. Then it was my fault. I’m glad. I was afraid you were going to turn out to be one of those fair-weather chaps who don’t like to come out when the grass is wet or the wind is blowing. I’m sorry I made such a fool blunder. But you be on hand to-morrow, Vinton; don’t forget. Glad you got out of your scrape as well as you did yesterday. You might have got pretty well singed from what I hear. You’d better come over to training table to-morrow. Good night.”

“Good night, sir,” answered Dan. “And--and thank you, sir.”

“What for?” asked the coach, turning at the doorway.

“For letting me stay on the squad,” replied Dan.

“Humph! Maybe you won’t thank me later on. I don’t believe there’s a ghost of a show for you to get on the First, Vinton, although you may get into the Broadwood game for a few minutes. Good-bye.”

When the door had closed Dan listened until Mr. Payson’s footsteps had died away down the corridor. Then he gave a bound onto his bed and turned a somersault, his heels landing with a thump against the wall and seriously impairing the appearance of the wall-paper. When Tubby came in a moment later he found Dan lying on his back with his feet on the pillow. Tubby snorted derisively.

“I guess it’s gone to your head,” he said.