'As Gold in the Furnace' Part 28

"Smithers was too excited to know what he was saying."

"But you are not killed--that's the point. Hurrah!" In spite of himself the prefect was again cheered. Do what he would, put his fingers to his lips, point to the infirmary, wave down the noise with his hand, he could not stop the boys giving one more shout for his safety.

When Bracebridge and Beecham were again alone in their room, the former said:

"What do you make of it all?"

"I think it is very important."

"I think so too."

"You heard all he said?"

"Every word."

"I am not sure," said Jack, "but I believe there is a rift in the cloud for dear old Roy. Fancy, Brose! suppose this wounded boy should know all about the robbery!"

"And we could make him tell," added Bracebridge.

"I tell you what I think," continued Jack, "it is my conviction that he not only knows all about the thieving, but that he----"

"Oh, don't say that," urged Ambrose. "I know what you think. I believe I think the same, but don't like to give it expression."

"I don't mind doing so if it will lead to the clearing of Henning."

"I wish I knew what he meant--what was on his mind when he mentioned Garrett and his sweater! And what could he mean by repeating frequently, 'letter, letter, Garrett.' It's all a mystery to me as yet. I do wish Roy was here. Maybe he knows what the words mean.

Perhaps Roy could get Stockley to tell who the thief was, that is, supposing he really knows."

"It seems clear to me," said Beecham, "that Stockley knows something.

But who can say what that something is? Say! Suppose you telegraph for Henning. Give him to-day's score, too. He'll want to know that."

"That's a great idea. I'll do it," said Ambrose.

"All right. Do it at once, so that he may get the message in time to start to-night and be here early to-morrow morning, should he consider the affair important enough."

Thus the telegraphic message was sent to Roy Henning.

When Smithers had recovered from his fright sufficiently to be able to talk sensibly, Beecham and Shealey plied him with questions about the accident. He said, substantially:

"We were at the other end of the forest path when the storm came up--Stockley and I. We took shelter in the cave for some time until the water began to flow in from above and drove us out. Then we made for home. It was very dangerous. Sticks and limbs were flying in all directions. We had pa.s.sed the big oak by about thirty feet when Stockley was struck by a piece of a branch about four feet long and as thick as your arm. It hit him on the arm and on the chest or side. He fell with a scream. At that moment there came a brilliant flash, and a bolt of lightning struck quite close to us, blinding me for a few seconds. I was about ten feet ahead of Stockley when it came. I was so frightened I thought I would go crazy. When I could see again I saw the oak tree falling right where he was lying. I never was so frightened in my life. Then I ran home, believing he was killed. I don't remember how I got down the hill, or what I said after."

"Will you answer me one question, Smithers?" asked Beecham.

"If I can, yes. What is it?"

"When the accident happened were you two talking about Henning and the robbery last Christmas?"

"Yes," he answered, "we were. I'm sorry now I had anything to do with it."

"With what?" asked Beecham with a nervous start. Foolish fellow. He was not cool enough. The other fellow took immediate alarm.

"Oh, nothing!" and he refused to say anything more, and walked away.

"That was too bad," said Beecham to himself, very much chagrined. "If I had been a little more diplomatic I might have wormed out of him all he knew of the matter."

Now Jack was indeed sorely puzzled. Did Smithers mean that he was sorry that he had talked to Stockley about it, or did he mean that he was now, under the influence of a great fright, sorry that he had partic.i.p.ated in the robbery?

Beecham sat a long time on a bench tilted against the wall, disconsolate and severely bringing himself to task.

"Here am I," he said, "with conceit enough to imagine I have brains enough to become a lawyer, and at the very first opportunity for an important cross-questioning I make a decided goose of myself. Pshaw! I wish some one would kick me! I deserve it!"

When Beecham found Bracebridge and told him what he had done, the latter laughingly admitted the sentence which Jack had pa.s.sed upon himself ought to be immediately executed, and volunteered to be the executioner.

"You did make a mess, of it, certainly. There's no telling what the boy knows--much more than he will ever reveal, I'm thinking. We can now only wait for Roy. He wired that he would be here to-morrow morning."

"'Rah for Roy! He's the one we want!" shouted Jack with renewed enthusiasm.

CHAPTER XXV

SURPRISES FOR ROY

Henning arrived at the Cuthberton depot at seven in the morning. In stepping from the sleeper he was surprised to see Ambrose Bracebridge awaiting him.

"Welcome back, old fellow, to St. Cuthbert's," said Ambrose. "I was very sorry to hear of your loss. May she rest in peace," and the gentlemanly boy raised his hat reverently.

"Thank you," said Roy, warmly shaking hands, "thanks. It was very sudden. Poor little Ethel died a saint if ever there was one."

"I have not forgotten you in your absence. I have the promise of five Ma.s.ses for her from the Fathers. I felt sure that would be pleasing to you."

"Thanks, indeed!" He was touched by his friend's thoughtfulness, and the remembrance of Ethel brought a big lump into his throat, and for a moment there was a catching of the breath. "Excuse me, Ambrose. Your kindness--our sudden loss--my heart is wrenched--her--she--oh! you know how it is!"

"Yes, yes, I know----"

"And I have come back," said Roy, certainly irrelevantly, "I have come back under the most favorable conditions with respect to my father."

"Yes?" answered Ambrose, quite ignorant of what the conditions might be. Roy saw that for all their talks, Bracebridge remembered nothing of the previous relations between himself and his father. He saw by his questioning "yes," and by his eyes, which were nothing less than interrogation points, that his friend was curious to learn more, although he delicately refrained from asking.

"It's a long story, Brosie, old man. I can't tell it to you now on the platform here. I'll tell you some time to-day--after we have had breakfast. I am as hungry as a wolf. Let's go to a hotel and get breakfast."

"No, the college carriage is outside waiting for you, and breakfast for four is to be ready by the time we get back."

"For four?"

"Why, yes. Didn't I tell you that Harry Gill and Jack are waiting outside in the carriage? The ticket man at the gate wouldn't let them in. I was the least suspicious-looking of the three, I suppose."