The New Boys at Oakdale

CHAPTER XXVIII – COMRADES ALL

Charley was sitting on a big chair, his bandaged ankle resting on cushions piled in another chair, when Ned Osgood came to see him at noon the following day. Ned had visited him early that morning, but now he returned with his face aglow and his tongue eager with a message.

“How’s the ankle, Shultzie?” he cried.

“Oh, it’s pretty well,” was the answer. “Of course it gives me fits, especially when I have to move it a little, but then, I guess I can stand it.” He looked at Ned almost entreatingly.

Osgood drew a chair close and sat down.

“The fellows all want to know how you’re coming on,” he said. “Of course I’ve had to tell them all about it.”

“Confound it!” exclaimed Shultz. “I don’t count in this business. How’s Hooker? That’s what I want to know.”

“I’ve been to see him, too. He didn’t come to school this morning, but he’s all right, just the same. Says he’s stiff and lame, and all that, but thinks he’ll be frisky enough in a day or two.”

“Does he – does he seem to be all right – in his head?” faltered Charley anxiously.

“Oh, sure. There’s nothing the matter with him.”

“Well, I’m mighty glad to hear it. You know I’ve been worrying – I just couldn’t help it. I kept thinking he might have a relapse or something – might lose his memory again.”

“Pooh! Nonsense! The doctor says he’s O. K. and he’ll stay so.”

“That’s great, Ned.”

“Funny,” said Osgood, “but the first thing he did was to ask about you.”

“I don’t see why he should care a rap about me. If it hadn’t been for me – ”

“Oh, cut that out! It’s plain bosh. Nobody thinks for a minute of putting it all on you, much less Hooker.”

“You know, old man, I wish I could have said something when Roy spoke up the way he did last night and declared he was to blame. I felt something – something inside of me here, but I couldn’t say it to save my life. After I’m gone, I hope you’ll tell Hooker that I think him a dandy, a brick, the finest fellow in the world.”

“After you’re gone? What do you mean by that?”

“Of course I can’t go right away with this old ankle the way it is, but when it gets better so that I can leave Oakdale – ”

“Leave Oakdale!” exploded Osgood. “Why are you going to leave Oakdale? Tell me that.”

“Why, Ned, I don’t see how I’m going to stay here. Professor Richardson was mighty decent last night, but of course I knew that was because he thought I’d had enough just then. He can’t want me back in the school, and there must be lots of fellows who’d shy at me, too. Once it wouldn’t have worried me if two-thirds of them had handed me the frosty, but now I’m – I’m sort of changed. I seem to be weak and lacking in backbone, and I know I couldn’t stay in the school with a lot of the fellows that way, even if Prof was willing I should stay.”

“Now you listen to me, Shultzie,” said Osgood earnestly. “I’ve had a talk with the professor, and he’s coming to see you to-night.”

“Oh, I don’t believe I want to see him again. I don’t believe I can. You know I said some mighty nasty things about him behind his back. I tried to turn the fellows against him, and he knows it.”

“But you can bet he’s willing to forget that, Charley, and he will never mention it unless you do. Between you and me, Prof is a pretty fine old boy. We had him sized up all wrong.”

“I reckon we did, Ned. Just because he was along in years and old-fashioned in some of his ways, we didn’t understand him at all. You know he said last night that most men didn’t understand boys. Well, it’s my opinion that few boys understand men, especially men like Prof Richardson.”

“I won’t put up an argument on that point. You’ll be welcomed back to school by him, Shultz, and you’ll be welcomed just as heartily by the fellows. Why, when Piper heard just how you owned up and tried to take all the blame, he was enthusiastic about you. Said you’d proved yourself a white man all the way through.”

“But he didn’t know what I’d been through to bring me to that point.”

“That doesn’t make any difference. Say, do you know the way the fellows behaved toward me made me mortally ashamed of myself? Charley, they actually thought I did something commendable last night. They seem to have the idea that just because I pulled Hooker out of the old quarry I’m a real hero. And you can’t make them see it any other way, either. Jack Nelson nearly broke my paw shaking hands with me.”

“Nelson!” muttered Shultz. “If he only knew!”

“He does. He knows the whole business. I told him while we were alone in the woods last night.”

“And he shook hands with you to-day?”

“That’s what he did.”

“Well, he must be pretty white himself.”

“White? He’s as fine a chap as one could find in a year’s hunt. Now look here, old fellow, I’ll tell you just what we’re going to do, you and I. You’re coming to school again as soon as you can get there. We’re going to stay right here in Oakdale and prove that we’re somewhere near as decent as the fellows we’ve met in this town. We’re going to prove to Professor Richardson that we’re not a couple of cheap trouble-makers. We’re going to try our level best to do just about what’s right. Do you get me?”

There was a gleam in Shultz’s eyes; a smile broke over his face; he thrust out his hand for Osgood to take.

“I get you, Ned,” he returned, his voice vibrant with deep earnestness. “You’re right; that’s just what we’ll do, as long as we’re to be given the chance. And say, I’m mighty glad to have the chance.”

When Shultz returned to the academy on crutches several days later, he was immediately surrounded by a crowd of boys who welcomed him back in no uncertain manner. First among those to hail him and shake his hand was Roy Hooker, and he was followed closely by Jack Nelson. Billy Piper was not among the last to grip Charley’s fingers, and there was no uncertain sincerity in his tone, as he said:

“Shultzie, you’re all right. You proved it. Say, it’s just ripping to have you back.”

“Old man,” said Nelson, “you want to get that ankle cured as soon as you can. The nine is crippling along without you, but I tell you we miss you out there in center field.”

“That’s right,” said Chub Tuttle, gulping down a mouthful of half-chewed peanuts. “It’s a rotten shame, the mess I make of it trying to cover that patch. I lost the game last Saturday by muffing a ball you could have caught without half trying.”

Grant, Crane, Stone and others all had a cheerful word for Charley, and while they were expressing themselves, Professor Richardson came pushing gently through the throng and clapped both his hands on the abashed boy’s shoulders.

“Well, well,” said the principal, beaming, “here you are again. That’s fine, I declare. You ought to be able to throw away those crutches in a few days. Do you know, I actually attended the last baseball game, and, on my word, I found it very interesting. I believe I’ve been missing something, and when it is possible I think I shall take the games in hereafter.”

Was this the “old fogy back number” Shultz had so often sneered about and derided? Why, instead of being sour and crabbed, this man was genial and gentle and sympathetic. Charley wondered how he had ever happened to misjudge the professor so greatly. The boy felt his heart swelling with the gladness and camaraderie of it all, and to keep the mist out of his eyes, he laughed, a genuine, sincere, happy laugh, amazingly unlike his laughter of former days. He was a lucky fellow; oh, yes, he knew it very well. He was different; he knew that, too, and he would never again be as he had been once, thank goodness.

When Osgood got a chance to speak to Shultz unheard by others, he laughingly said:

“I told you how it would be. Now you’ve seen for yourself, and you ought to be satisfied.”

“Satisfied?” said Charley. “That word doesn’t express my feelings, Ned, and I don’t believe there’s a word in the language that can express them.”

Professor Richardson’s troubles were indeed over; during the remainder of the term he was not disturbed by even the faintest show of insubordination or unruliness among his pupils, who seemed to vie with one another in their efforts to make the old principal’s duties not only easy but pleasant.

When Shultz next visited Osgood’s rooms, he noticed, not without surprise and wonderment, that all the old “family portraits” had disappeared. Not only that: Ned was using plain and simple writing paper, unadorned by a crest.

These two boys both became genuinely popular in Oakdale, and their splendid playing upon the baseball field caused many members of opposing teams to express admiration and envy, and to assert that it was mainly through the fine work of Osgood and Shultz that Oakdale won the championship that season.