“who enters here, leaves hope behind.”
this legend, in huge, shaded letters, adorned the blackboard one morning, when a written examination in geometry was to take the place of the usual recitations.
mr. horton glanced at dixon with a smile as he read the sentence, for dixon was apt to get badly tangled up over those perplexing lines and angles, and was always in the depths of melancholy when an examination in geometry was impending.
just then dixon was saying:—
“wish i could borrow your head this morning, clark. you wouldn’t mind lending it, would you?”
clark, buried in the depths of a big lexicon, answered in an absent-minded way:—
“certainly not. help yourself.”
the shout of laughter from the boys who had heard both question and answer brought clark back to his surroundings, and he joined in the laugh against himself, while dixon grumbled:—
“only wish i could hold him to his word.”
[251]
when inkwells had been filled, pens and paper distributed, and the boys were taking last, lingering peeps at the knottiest theorems before their geometries should be collected, as was the custom, they were taken entirely by surprise, for, instead of telling two boys to bring the books to the desk, the teacher said:—
“boys, we are going to carry the self-government principles into the examinations this year. if you will all promise to be perfectly fair and honorable in this examination, your books may remain on your desks, and i shall leave the room without a monitor until the examination is over. as many as would like me to do this will please rise.”
it seemed to mr. horton that every boy in the room was on his feet the next instant. in reality, several rose slowly, and only because they were not willing to say that they preferred not to be so trusted.
mr. horton looked much pleased, as he bade the boys be seated.
“i am very glad to have such an unanimous response,” he said, “and i shall leave you without the slightest doubt. i know that my boys can be trusted this year, and it is a pleasure to me to show you how thoroughly i do trust you. now, has any one any question to ask about the examination before i leave the room?”
[252]
after answering a few questions, mr. horton went out, and the boys settled down to work. to many of them, it seemed strange to be left so. these were the boys who had been used to whisper, and take sly peeps at bits of paper which they had tucked into various pockets. more than one had such aids to memory about him at that very moment, but they were ashamed, now, to use them.
as the boys looked over the list of questions, many a sigh or frown showed that that list contained precisely the questions that one or another had hoped would not be there.
but most of the boys settled down at once to steady work, and for a while nothing was heard but the scratching of pens and the rattling of paper, or the uneasy movements of some lad who was trying in vain to recall a forgotten theorem.
as gordon laid aside a written sheet, he happened to glance towards a seat occupied by blake—one of the boys who had entered that year, and he saw blake softly lift the lid of his desk, and peep at something on the inside.
leaving his seat, gordon marched directly to blake’s, and, without a word, suddenly lifted the lid of his desk, in spite of the other’s efforts to prevent it on the inside of the lid was pinned a brief explanation of several of the toughest problems in the geometry.
[253]
with a look of scorn in his blue eyes, gordon snatched the paper and tore it into bits; then, still without a word, he returned to his seat. as he did so, several boys, whose quick eyes had taken note of the whole performance, clapped their approval, and at this, blake, who had started up angrily, dropped back into his seat, and went on with his work in sulky silence.
one or two other boys attempted to cheat that day, but their attempts were put down by the rest as promptly as blake’s had been.
blake tried to slip out of the room unnoticed after the examination was over, but gordon had kept an eye on him, and speedily overtook him in the hall.
“blake,” he said, “i’m sure you are glad, now, that you did your work honestly. you wouldn’t have liked mr. horton to know that you went back on your word.”
“he wouldn’t have known it, if you’d minded your own business,” growled blake, “and i should have had a hundred on the examination, and now i shan’t get above eighty, thanks to your meddling.”
“i’m sorry for that, blake, but i’d rather have an honest eighty than a dishonest hundred, and i’m sure mr. horton would say so, too.”
“oh, you’re too high-toned in this school,” said blake. “i never was in a school before where we[254] didn’t cheat in examinations. the teachers wink at it. they know we do it.”
“well, i don’t believe in it,” said gordon. “i mean to be honest after i leave school, and i don’t see why i shouldn’t be honest in school, too. i couldn’t respect myself, if i did mean, underhanded things.”
“respect your grandmother!” muttered blake, walking off at such a pace that gordon did not attempt to keep up with him, but turned back to wait for hamlin, who came down the stairs a moment later.
hamlin was looking very happy.
“such a relief to get that exam. over,” he said, as he joined gordon; “and i knew every problem like a book. wasn’t it fine, though, to have bobby put the class on honor so!”
“yes,” said gordon, “though two or three didn’t live up to it.”
“oh, of course not. there are always a few sneaks in every crowd, but on the whole they did splendidly, i think. but what’s the matter with st. john?”
“matter? what do you mean?” asked gordon.
“why, he’s still pegging away up there, and usually he’s one of the first to finish up,” replied hamlin.
“haven’t you noticed how much slower he’s been[255] lately than he was the first of the year? i think the fellow’s worked out,” said gordon. “too bad, too, for it will spoil his whole year’s record, if he doesn’t get through these exams. in good shape.”
“oh, he’ll get through all right enough,” said hamlin, carelessly.
“who else was up there when you left?” asked gordon.
“only dixon, freeman, lee and clark. clark had handed in his paper and was waiting for freeman. here they come now.” and the two boys stopped and waited for the other two.
“bobby certainly is working the self-government plan for all it is worth to-day,” said freeman, as he and clark joined the others.
“anything new?” asked hamlin.
“he’s left those three, st. john, lee and dixon, up there in the room to finish, and told ’em to put their papers in the lower drawer in his desk when they get through; and the last one is to lock the drawer and give him the key in the morning.”
“he certainly is putting them on honor,” said gordon; “but i guess it’s safe enough with those three fellows.”
the three boys left in the class-room worked on in silence for half an hour. then lee had finished his work, and putting his paper in the drawer, he departed, followed a few minutes later by dixon.[256] both boys cast wondering glances at st. john, who was usually among the first to pass in his papers, but he paid no attention to them, not seeming even to notice when they left the room.
he had finished all but one of the problems given. that one he had tried in vain to solve. his tired brain would not recall the theorem required. as dixon left the room, st. john dropped his head on his desk with a weary sigh, but in a moment he started up again, and bent over the question-paper.
“why can’t i think of it?” he said half aloud. “of course i know it. i’ve solved that problem no end of times.”
his eye fell on his geometry. he stretched his hand towards it, then drew it back, a hot flush burning on his cheek.
“on honor!” he murmured, and pushing the book aside, he tried again to think out the solution required, but in vain. for half an hour he sat there fighting against the temptation that assailed him. once he folded his unfinished paper, and started to put it in the drawer; then, remembering how gordon, clark and hamlin had gone off an hour before—with every question correctly answered, he was sure—he dropped back into his seat with a groan.
“i can’t let them get ahead of me, so,” he thought. “i’m really a better scholar than anyone of the lot. it’s just that my head is so dead tired[257]! i really do know every page of that geometry, if i only could think of it—if only i could.”
but he could not, try as he would. then the janitor looked in at the door, and st. john knew that he wanted to clean the room. he began wearily to put away his papers. suddenly he reached forward, snatched his geometry, and hurriedly turning the leaves, looked at the theorem that he had been trying to recall. then, flinging the book aside, he hastily wrote out the explanation on his examination paper, folded it, and flung it carelessly into the drawer, and, forgetting entirely that he was to lock the drawer and keep the key until morning, he picked up his cap and left the room. his paper was all right, he was sure, but already he felt that he had paid too high a price for it.
the examinations that followed were conducted on the same principle as this first one, and mr. horton was so well satisfied with the result that he determined that he would never go back to the old watching method again. the latin examination was held the next week, and, so far as was known, not one boy attempted underhanded methods.
st. john was so thoroughly at home in latin, that he was among the first to complete his work, and he left the room with a sigh of relief that one more task was over, for he had reached that stage of mental and physical exhaustion when the smallest task[258] seems a load too heavy to be borne, and he was gathering all his energies to finish the latin essay that was to decide who should hold first rank in the class.
for weeks he had been working at that essay, writing and rewriting; one day pleased with his work, the next so dissatisfied that he would throw it aside and begin anew. but now, the time was short, and in a few days the essay must be handed in to the judges.
gordon, hamlin and clark were also more than a little concerned about their essays.
“it isn’t the putting it into latin; it’s getting the ideas in english that sticks me,” hamlin said to clark one day. “i’ve been cudgeling my brains, and it does seem as if i haven’t an idea worth writing down, on any subject whatever.”
“queer, how a fellow’s ideas do vanish the minute he tries to write ’em out on paper,” said clark. “i couldn’t get to sleep the other night for thinking about that essay, and while i lay awake, i thought of a subject, and one idea after another came to me, till i jumped out of bed and went to scribbling. then i went back to bed and to sleep, and in the morning, when i read over my bright ideas, they seemed just about as near nothing as anything i ever read. so i flung the whole thing into the waste-basket, and began over again.”
[259]
“i’ve begun about a dozen times, and all my efforts, thus far, seem to me to be fit for the same receptacle,” laughed gordon; “but there’s so little time left, that all i can do is to pick out the best of the lot—if there is any best—and make a smooth copy of it, and let it go at that.”
“oh, yes, that’ll do for you to say,” grumbled hamlin; “but all the same you’ll hand in an essay all trimmed up and polished off in tip-top style. that’s what you’ll both do. i know you two chaps; seen you before.”
any boy in the latin class was free to hand in an essay in competition for the prize scholarship; but it was well enough understood who were the six sure to stand at the head of the class, and there was small likelihood that any other boy could produce a better essay than any one of these six could write. nevertheless, a few made the attempt, and nine essays were given to the judges. the decision was not to be made known, however, until commencement day; so, when their papers had been handed in, the boys tried to forget all about the matter until the decision should be announced.
the day before commencement was always one of intense interest, because then the results of all the examinations were announced, and not till then could the scholars know their marks on the whole year’s work, and for those who had been in the[260] school through the entire three years, their standing for the whole period. those who hoped to win one of the scholarships were especially anxious to know their standing, to see what their chances might be.
rules were relaxed on this day. there were no more recitations. the work of the senior year was ended, and this last day was really more in the nature of a final friendly meeting as a class, than anything else.
when mr. horton, who had been down to prof. keene’s office, returned to his class-room with a paper in his hand, the merry chatter ceased, and the boys dropped into their seats, prepared to give him their undivided attention.
he began by telling them that never since he had been teaching had he had a class that had done, on the whole, so satisfactory work as this class had done during the past year. he spoke of the marked improvement, both in scholarship and moral character of the class as a whole, and told them that their influence had not been confined to their own section, but had extended to the whole school, so that prof. keene declared that the school stood much higher in reputation than it had done a year ago. “and he attributes this,” said mr. horton, “to the influence of the law and order society of section d.”
a round of applause greeted this, but it was quickly hushed, as the teacher went on:—
[261]
“it gives me much pleasure to say, as it will give you to hear, that section d is the banner section of the central, this year.”
the applause that followed this announcement was so enthusiastic and prolonged that it reached the ears of prof. keene, in his office, but he only smiled as he listened.
but mr. horton raised his hand, and silence instantly succeeded, for the boys were longing to know what was written on that paper which he held, and now he unfolded it, and read the result of the examinations.
number 1. stanley clark.
number 2. hugh gordon, and everett st. john.
number 3. david hamlin.
number 4. alec graham, and so on.
each name was greeted with a round of cheers, and as soon as the list was ended, the boys crowded around the prize-winners with congratulations. only st. john sat apart, and spoke to nobody. to stand second was nothing to him. if he could not stand first, he said to himself that he might as well be at the bottom of the list; and besides, deep in his heart, he knew that he had not gained honestly even the second rank. so he answered coldly, even rudely, the congratulations of clark and hamlin, and intimated so plainly that he wanted to be let alone, that no one else ventured to approach him.
[262]
in the midst of the hubbub of talk, mr. horton called reed to the desk.
“you are wanted in the professor’s office,” he said.
wondering “what was up,” reed hurried down to the office. when, half an hour later, he returned, his face was fairly radiant. a tall, fine-looking gentleman followed him, and the whisper went around that that was charlie reed’s father.
reed did not go to his own seat, but slipped into one beside clark, and, as he did so, he seized clark’s hand and wrung it till the latter fairly winced, as he whispered:—
“whatever is the matter, reed?”
but reed, with that same happy smile, answered only:—
“father’s going to make a speech. you just listen.”
at this moment mr. reed, who had been talking to mr. horton, rose and faced the boys.
“i have a story to tell,” he began; “a story in which, i am sure, you will all be interested, as it deeply concerns one of your number. it is a true story—true in every detail.
“in a neighboring city there lived, not long ago, a man who stood very high in the community. he was wealthy, he held positions of trust—of honor, and no man in the land seemed less likely to fall than he; yet he did fall. not satisfied with the[263] wealth and station he had gained, he wanted to double his millions. he speculated—risked all that he had, and lost. then he used the trust-funds in his hands, and again he lost.
“then, with wealth gone, with honor gone, he would have taken his own life, but for one thing. his wife was very, very ill, and she had no one in the world but him, for they had no children.
“while he sat in his office, trying to decide whether he could leave his dying wife alone in the world, and commit this last great crime, there came to him one who was associated with him in business, one to whom he had years before given a helping hand. this man had never forgotten the help he had received, and the other knew that he could count upon help and sympathy from him in this hour of his shame and trouble.
“he told his friend the whole story, and asked of him what i believe no man has a right to ask of another. it could be made to appear to the world as if this other were the one who had betrayed his trust, and the guilty man proposed to let the world believe this. he asked his friend to bear in his stead the shame and dishonor that rightfully belonged to himself.
“‘it is only for a few days,’ he pleaded. ‘you know how very ill my poor wife is. the doctors say it is a question of but a few hours now. it is[264] only for her sake—that she may die in peace—and, as soon as she is gone, the world shall know the whole story, and your name shall be fully cleared.’
“that was an awful sacrifice to ask of an upright, honorable man.
“at first the man refused utterly, but the other reminded him of past kindness received not only from himself, but from the wife whose life was so near its end—and at last he yielded. he agreed to bear the blame and the shame for the little time she had to live, only making the condition that his own wife should know the truth.
“think, boys, what it was to that man to have the papers full of the story, to see friends pass him coldly by—even when he believed that in a few days all would be made right again!
“but, contrary to all expectations, the apparently dying woman rallied, and slowly, very slowly, began to recover.
“then, what was to be done? the guilty man selfishly refused to own the truth, and clear the name of his friend, and that friend was obliged to leave the country, or go to prison and serve a sentence for a crime he had never committed.
“he went to another land, and there devoted his time and strength to winning back enough to repay all that had been lost through his partner’s sin.
“a few days ago, the invalid wife died—died in blissful ignorance of the sad truth. when she was[265] gone, all interest in life for her husband was ended. he felt that he could no longer bear the burden of his own guilt, and the knowledge of what another was suffering through him. he told the whole story, gave up every dollar he had left, and only asked that the name of the noble man who had suffered shame for his sake be cleared at once.
“the papers, to-night, will tell the story to all the world, and from this day forth no shadow will ever rest on the name of stanley w. clark.”
there was a moment of intense silence as mr. reed ceased speaking. then came a perfect burst of cheers.
clark’s face was buried in his hands, and when he lifted it to see mr. reed standing beside him, the glad tears were rolling down his cheeks, and more than one boy found his own eyes dim.
as for charlie reed—he declared that he was “’most too happy to live.”
all through the year clark had been winning his way into the hearts of his schoolmates, and now they went wild over him, and shook his hands till his arms were lame, and showed so much sympathy and gladness for him, that, at last, he broke down entirely, and cried like a baby for pure joy.
from that day no shadow rested on his strong young face, and never again did he need to shrink from others, or dread a reference to the father who was, more than ever, his ideal.
