CHAPTER XIII

_The “Peeg Mystery” Cleared_

The time for the final selection of the Cascade team approached, with a score of youths working with might and main to win or hold places as regular players. The conduct of Haxton toward Larry Kirkland and his friends had not changed materially, although after the rebellion of Harry Baldwin he was fairer toward Larry and his friends. It was evident too that the opinion of the students who came regularly to watch the practice games was having its influence upon the coach, and that he was watching more attentively the playing, especially of Winans, the big, easy-moving, strong-throwing catcher, and of Kirkland, whose work at third base and at shortstop in the occasions in which he had been given the opportunity to play. Paw Lattiser’s active interest in Kirkland was having its influence among the Seniors, and Clark, one of the student directors of athletics, appeared to favor Kirkland or, at least, to treat him with condescending friendliness.

In several clashes in which the first team, chosen by Coach Haxton, had been pitted against the “scrubs,” Kirkland had shone brilliantly as compared with Harry Baldwin, who seemed to have an idea that the position was a sinecure after regaining his standing with Haxton. Baldwin and several of the sporty crowd that followed his lead lost few opportunities to belittle Kirkland, and several times they had flagrantly attempted to insult little Katsura. Only the calm philosophy of the little brown fellow and his ignoring of the rebuffs prevented open resentment of their conduct by Kirkland and Winans, who valued the friendship of Katsura.

Larry Kirkland returned to his rooms one evening after a call at St. Gertrude’s, quiet and troubled.

“Why all these glooms?” inquired Winans, who, as usual, was sitting up hoping to start an argument before going to sleep. “Has the lovely maiden treated you ill to-night?”

“I’m worried over something,” confessed Larry. “It was just a little remark I heard. I didn’t pay any attention to it at the time, but walking home I remembered it and I wish I had inquired more closely.”

“What was it?”

“Well—the friend I went to see happens to be related to Har——to one of the fellows here in school. She remarked that this fellow had told her I was sure to be fired from college. I thought it was merely some of his talk, as he has made similar remarks before, but on the way home I wondered whether it had anything to do with the pig case.”

“Oh, that’s dead, buried and forgotten. I haven’t heard it even mentioned lately, and the faculty probably gave it up in disgust when the ‘Herr Professor’ dropped it.”

“You forget,” said Larry earnestly, “that at least two persons knew we stole the pig. Why did they keep quiet? Maybe they will inform the faculty now. If this fellow I speak of knows we stole the pig, the faculty will hear of it soon enough.”

“Oh, forget it,” advised Winans. “I’ve figured out that the fellows who took the pig out of Bartelme’s bed are afraid to say a word because they are as deep in the mud as we are in the mire.”

“I know that,” urged Larry. “That’s why I’m thinking about this. If we can find out who they are, maybe we could find the ‘Herr Professor’s’ pig for him.”

“Chances are, piggy, germs and all, has gone to pig heaven long before this,” yawned Winans. “I’m sleepy, and I refuse to worry about that pig any further. I’ve grown so sick of pig that I won’t touch my ham and eggs.”

Larry’s troubled evening was not without cause. Two days later he returned from class and found Winans and Trumbull awaiting him in gloomy forboding. Each had received notice to appear before the Faculty Committee at three o’clock that afternoon without fail. Another note of the same import was awaiting addressed to Larry, and a hasty scouring of the campus revealed little Butler in the throes of despair over an order of similar nature. The discovery that all of those implicated in the “peeg” plot had been summoned made it a certainty that the faculty at last had received information as to the identity of the culprits. Butler seemed much relieved.

“Gee,” he ejaculated, “I’m glad it’s that. I was afraid it was some confounded flunk in math. I’d rather be called up for first degree murder than to flunk in math. I think father would forgive me more quickly.”

“I’m certain father will be proud of me now,” said Winans.

The luncheon period was spent in idle speculation as to the manner in which the faculty had received its information. Larry, although his suspicions pointed strongly to Harry Baldwin, and who felt assured that Baldwin at least knew the faculty would be informed, decided to withhold his accusation until after the ordeal in the president’s office.

The quartette, a little awed, filed into the offices of the president promptly at the assigned hour. The president, cracking his knuckles, as was his wont, sat in state, flanked on the right by Professor Jervis, dean of the mathematical department and the terror of many generations of Cascade youths, ready and eager to enforce any penalty up to capital punishment upon any accused or suspected student, and on the left by Professor Weyrich, head of the college of chemistry, the jovial, twinkling-eyed, fat friend and defender of all boys, who loved them most when they had fractured college law worse than usual.

As the quartette entered, President Jamieson gazed at them over the rims of his spectacles, cracked his knuckles until they sounded like corn popping, and said:

“Ahem—young gentlemen, good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” they replied faintly.

“Ahem,” continued the president, eyeing them one after the other pompously. Professor Jarvis scowled threateningly, and Larry Kirkland, shifting his glance from the forbidding and the accusing countenances, looked at the solemn-faced head of the chemical department just in time to observe a quick, but unmistakable wink from the eye furtherest from the others of the faculty.

“Ahem,” repeated the president. “Ahem,—Winans, Kirkland, Trumbull and Butler; all here I see. Very satisfactory. Very satisfactory.”

“Yes, sir,” they agreed in chorus.

“I suppose,” the president hesitated and cracked his knuckles again. “I conclude, at least, that you young gentlemen are aware of the charge about to be considered? You need not reply. I can see you at least fear we have discovered you; but, to be just, I will merely add that if any one of you is in ignorance, which is possible, but hardly probable, the charge is that you are the four miscreants who committed the crime of theft in stealing one pig, the property of Cascade College, for use in scientific investigations, then in the custody of Professor Schermer.”

He bent a judicial, yet accusing, look upon them.

“Well, well, what have you to say?” demanded Professor Jervis sharply. “What defense have you to offer—if any?”

“I think,” interjected Professor Weyrich, “that the facts of the case have not been fairly stated. The pig was not, as I understand it, the property of Cascade College, since Professor Schermer paid for it from his own salary, and Jervis, I believe it was at your suggestion that the Faculty Finance Committee refused to pay for the pig.”

“The matter of ownership is inconsequential,” declared the president. “No matter whether Professor Schermer paid for the pig or not, it was a valuable asset to the scientific department of Cascade and therefore really the property of the institution. What have you young gentlemen to say?”

The quartette shuffled uneasily, waiting for one to advance as spokesman. Winans nudged Larry Kirkland, who stepped a pace forward and, looking straight at Professor Jervis, replied:

“We stole the pig.”

His antagonistic nature was stirred by the attitude of Professor Jervis, and he set his lips tightly, determined not to say another word. At that moment Professor Schermer entered.