Left End Edwards Part 24

"Nothing. By the way, a funny thing happened." Steve wandered toward the window, his back to Tom, "When I went down to find 'Horace' I picked up a blue-book that was on his table and brought it up here. It was Upton's. I--I hadn't any recollection of doing it, but he found it lying on the table. Of course I felt like a fool."

"Oh," said Tom after a moment. "That--that was funny. I didn't see you bring it in with you." There was a note of constraint in his voice that did not escape Steve.

"I don't remember bringing it in," he replied. "I saw it on the table down there and--and looked at it, had it in my hand, but I don't remember bringing it up."

"Funny," said Tom lightly. "Did--did he say anything?"

"Oh, no. Of course I denied it at first, said I couldn't have taken it, but he said I must have, unless--unless you had. He asked if you were in his room and I said no."

"But I was!" exclaimed Tom. "Don't you remember? I went down just before we went out. But there wasn't any blue-book on his table then. At least, I didn't see any."

"Well, it doesn't matter. I told him you hadn't been there. I--I'd let him think so, anyway. There's no use having any more bother about the old thing."

"Well, but--you're sure he wasn't waxy? Of course I didn't take the book; you can prove that I didn't have it when I came back; but if he's acting ugly about it, why--I'll tell him I was in there too. He can lay it on me if he wants to. I--I think I'll tell him, Steve."

"You keep out of it," answered Steve roughly. "What's the use of having any more talk about it? He's got the book and there's no harm done."

Tom considered a moment. Then, "You're certain?" he asked.

"Certain of what?"

"That--that it's all right, that he doesn't blame you for it."

"Oh, he knows I did it, but he doesn't mind. What time is it?"

"A quarter past ten. What are you doing?"

Steve was ripping his bed to pieces. "I want a couple of blankets," he said. "Haven't we some thumb-tacks somewhere?"

"Table drawer," replied Tom. "What's the game?"

"I'm going to do that rotten composition." Steve climbed to a chair, and with the aid of push-pins draped one of the blankets over the door and transom. Then he pulled the window-shade close and hung the second blanket inside the cas.e.m.e.nt. "There! Now if anyone sees a light in this room they'll have to have mighty good eyes. You tumble into bed, Tom, and try to imagine it's dark."

"Bed? Who wants to go to bed?" asked Tom, smothering a yawn. "I'm going to help you with it."

"No, you're not," replied Steve doggedly. "I'm going to do it and I'm going to do it all myself if it takes me until daylight. Now shut up."

CHAPTER XVIII

B PLUS AND D MINUS

At half-past ten the next morning Mr. Daley hurried into the cla.s.s-room where French IV was already a.s.sembled, stumbled over the edge of the platform--the boys would have gasped with amazement had he neglected to do that--and took his seat. On one corner of the table in front of him was a pile of blue-books. He drew it toward him and ran a hand along the edges of the books.

"Has everyone handed in his composition?" he asked.

There was no reply and he seemed surprised. "I--er--I am to understand, then, that you have all turned your books in?"

Still no dissenting voice. Mr. Daley's gaze travelled over the cla.s.s until it encountered Steve at the rear of the room. He opened his mouth, hesitated, closed it again, cleared his throat and finally pushed the pile of books aside.

"Very well," he said. "I shall mark these this evening. You will--er--kindly get them to-morrow. Now then, 'Le Siege de Paris'; we left off where, Upton?"

At a few minutes past twelve Steve knocked at Mr. Daley's door, and, obeying the invitation, entered. The instructor was seated at his desk, a litter of blue-books in front of him and a pipe in his mouth. The latter he laid aside as the boy appeared.

"You said you wanted to see me, sir," said Steve.

"Er--yes, Edwards. Sit down, please." The instructor took up his pipe again, hurriedly put it aside, seized a pencil and jotted nervously on the back of a book. Finally,

"I--er--find your composition here," he said. "When did you write it?"

"Between half-past ten last night and two o'clock this morning."

"Hm!" Mr. Daley swung around in his chair, viewed the oblong of landscape framed by the window for a moment and swung back again. There was a faint smile about his eyes. "Edwards, you--er--are a bit disconcerting. I presume you know that the rules require you to be in bed with lights out at ten-thirty?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hm! And you--er--deliberately transgressed that rule?"

"I didn't see anything else to do, Mr. Daley. You said I must turn that in by noon and there wouldn't have been time this morning to do it."

"Logically reasoned, my boy, but----" The instructor shook his head.

"You mustn't expect me to compliment you on your performance, Edwards.

To perform one duty by neglecting another is hardly--er--commendable. If it were not that you had transgressed a rule of the school, Edwards, I might compliment you quite highly. Your composition--I--er--I've been glancing through it--is really very good. I don't mean that you have not made mistakes of grammar, for you have, lots of them, but--er--you have written a well-constructed and--er--well-expressed narrative. What I--er--especially like about it is the subject. You have written of something you know about, something close at home, so to say. I--er--I am not much of a swimmer myself, but I presume that the instructions you have laid down here are--er--quite correct. In fact, Edwards, I'll even go so far as to say that I fancy one might take this composition of yours and--er--really learn something about swimming. And--er--if you have ever tried to learn anything of the sort--golf, rowing, tennis--from a hand-book you will realise that that is high praise."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"I had decided to mark your composition with a B, Edwards. Perhaps the many mistakes in grammar would ordinarily indicate a C, perhaps even a C minus, but the--er--other merits of the exercise are so p.r.o.nounced that, on the whole, I think it deserves a B."

"Thank you, sir."

"Er--just a moment." The instructor held up a hand. "I said that I had decided to give you a B, Edwards. That, however, was before I had learned when this was written. I shall now give it a D minus.

You--er--you understand why, Edwards?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm sorry, but I--er--must take into consideration the facts in the case. And those facts are that you neglected your work until the last moment and then disobeyed one of the well-known rules of the school in order to perform it. There is one other thing I might do. I might credit you with a B on your exercise and report you to the Office for disobeying the rules. But--er--I think, on the whole, that the first method is the more satisfactory. You understand, of course, that anything under a C in this test is equivalent to failure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hm; exactly. Therefore, Edwards, you will be required to make up nearly a month's work in French. I shall have to ask you to prove to me that you are in line with the rest of the cla.s.s. But you will have a full week to do this and I--er--I suspect that you will not find it very difficult." Mr. Daley took up a blue pencil and marked a large "D-" on the corner of the blue-book. "You might as well take this now, Edwards.

Bring me another composition not later than a week from to-day, please."

The instructor fluttered the leaves of a memorandum-pad and made a note opposite a future date. "I have not corrected it, but, as you have it to do over, that is not necessary."

Mr. Daley leaned back in his chair and gazed for a minute at the table.

Then,