Dave Porter at Oak Hall/Chapter 22
CHAPTER XXII
DAVE INTERVIEWS DR. CLAY
"You gave him as good as he sent," remarked Phil, as he and Dave walked down towards the river. "That last blow was a real eye-closer."
He looked at Dave keenly, but the other youth turned his face away. To tell the truth, Dave was not thinking of the fight—the words of Plum and Macklin, and some others, were ringing in his ears: "A poorhouse nobody! A poorhouse nobody!"
"Don't you mind what they said, Dave," resumed Phil, after a pause. "It was mean, very mean, indeed!"
"I know it, Phil, but—but——"
"You are not to blame for having been taken to such an institution when you were little."
"Yes, that's true, but some of the fellows won't look at it that way. They'll do as Plum has done,—and give me the cold shoulder."
"Not our crowd. If any fellow of our crowd does it, I'll give him a piece of my mind—and the cold shoulder in the bargain," answered Phil Lawrence. He spoke in a low tone but with decision.
They had just reached the river side when Roger joined them, followed by Ben.
"Just heard you had a fight with Plum," cried the senator's son. "You don't look much punished."
"It was cut short by Mr. Haskers," answered Dave.
"How did it start?" questioned Ben.
"It was something the bully said to Dave," replied Phil, and he looked at the others in a peculiar way. "It was dirt-mean; that is all I have to say about it."
"Ben, I know you will stick to me," cried Dave, catching his old friend by the hand. "You know all about the—the past."
"Oh, so that was it," said Ben. "I hope you punched the whole head off the bully."
"What did Plum say?" demanded Roger, flatly. "Come, let me into the secret."
"He called me a poorhouse nobody!" burst out Dave, with great bitterness. "I—I'm not going to allow anybody to call me that, so there!" And he clenched his fists.
"Oh, I see!" Roger gave a low whistle. "How did he learn that you were brought up at the poorhouse?"
"Through Nat Poole, I suppose. That crowd will ding it into everybody now, and they'll do what they can to set the school against me!" Dave's lip began to quiver, and he had to turn away to control his feelings.
"Don't you mind them!" said the senator's son, quickly. "I'll stick to you, for one, Dave."
"And you can count on me," added Phil.
"Dave knows how I stand," put in Ben. "I think he is worth a dozen such contemptible chaps as Nat Poole and Gus Plum, and as for that little sneak, Macklin, he isn't even worth considering."
"You are all very kind." In spite of his efforts to control himself, the tears stood in the eyes of the country boy. "I shan't forget your goodness."
The four went out on the river, and did not return to the academy until half an hour later, when Dave felt somewhat like himself again. On reaching Oak Hall they separated, and Dave hurried to Dormitory No. 12. He found a boy named Will Fellen there.
"Hello, Will," he said, pleasantly.
"Hello yourself," came shortly from Fellen. He looked at the country boy coldly and then, without another word, left the dormitory, slamming the door behind him.
Dave's face began to burn and he paced the floor with clinched fists. If this was to be the treatment received how could he face all of the students, in the dining hall and in the classroom?
"I'd better go back to Crumville," he told himself. "But I shan't do it—it wouldn't be fair to Mr. Wadsworth. I'll stay and fight it out—if Dr. Clay will let me."
He left the dormitory and without hesitation hurried below and to Dr. Clay's private office. His knock was answered by a brief, "Come in," and he entered, to find the master of Oak Hall poring over some academy bills.
"What is it, Master Porter?" questioned Dr. Clay, pleasantly.
"Can I have a few words in private with you, Dr. Clay?"
"Certainly. What do you want?"
"I—I want to—to speak about myself." Dave tried to talk steadily, but his voice trembled in spite of himself.
"Yes?"
"When Mr. Wadsworth had me placed here, did he—he tell you anything about me—of the past—where I came from?"
"Oh, that is what you want to know." The doctor leaned back in his easy chair. "Why, yes, he told me that you had been living with an old broken-down college professor who was trying to run a farm, and that the professor had had you bound out to him by a—er—a public institution."
"It was the Crumville poorhouse. Did he tell you that?"
"Yes. But Mr. Wadsworth said you were not a—er—a common boy, but very bright, and very manly, and he had taken an interest in you on that account as well as because you had saved his daughter from being burned."
"And you didn't mind my coming here because—because I wasn't from a—some well-known family?"
"No, I had no objection to that, so long as you behaved as well as the rest of my pupils."
"It was kind of you, Dr. Clay!" And Dave began to warm up. "Very kind indeed!"
"Not at all, Porter. You have as much right to an education as anybody. You—but what brought you here? Has anybody said anything of this to you?" And now the master of Oak Hall bent a pair of shrewd, penetrating eyes upon the youth.
"Yes, sir, and I was afraid——"
"Who was it?"
"I don't care to mention any names, sir. But I thought that perhaps you didn't know—and that if it became known, and you didn't want me—that it was going to hurt the school——"
"You need not proceed, Porter. I think I understand you. I thought this matter over before I sent word to Mr. Wadsworth that you might come. I don't mind telling you now that I told him in my first letter that I would try you for a few weeks or a month. Yesterday I sent him another letter, in which I told him that you were doing well and that I would be satisfied to keep you as long as he wished you to remain."
"Oh!"
"I imagined that some boys might be mean enough to—er—to throw this up to you, and I am sorry that it has occurred. If you will give me their names, I will see that they are properly punished."
"Oh, sir, I don't want to do that. But I—I was afraid they might leave the school on my account."
Dr. Clay stiffened up. "If anybody wishes to leave he can go," he said. "I am not going to put you out. I want you to stay, both on your own account and for the sake of Oliver Wadsworth, who is an old and dear friend, and on account of old Professor Potts, of whom I have heard. All I ask of you is, that you behave as well as the average pupil here, and attend to your studies."
Before the master of the Hall ceased speaking Dave's face was beaming, and at the conclusion he caught the doctor's hand in a tight squeeze.
"You are very kind, Dr. Clay."
"It is no kindness, Porter, only justice. I do not imagine that the majority of your fellow students will think any the less of you because of your past. I should be sorry to find them so narrow-minded. And as for the others, take my advice, and pay no attention to them—unless, of course, they grow too obnoxious, in which case you had better report to me."
"Then you really and truly want me to stay?"
"Yes, if you like the school."
"I do, very much,—and I'll promise to study harder than ever, now that I know how matters stand," added Dave.
"You made quite a record at the football game with Rockville, I believe. I should imagine some of the boys would like you for that," and the master of Oak Hall smiled.
"They do, but some others are down on me—those who didn't get on the team."
"Well, you must expect that. It is the way of the world. The higher you get in life the more jealous people will pick you out, and do what they can to pull you down. The really successful man, or boy, rises above such meanness."
"I understand, and I shall try to act on your advice."
"Then that is settled, and you had better be going to supper. The bell rang several minutes ago. Say I excused you."
"Thank you, I will," answered Dave, and bowed himself out of the office. With a heart as light as air, he hurried down the long corridor and into the dining hall. All his dark troubles seemed to be things of the past.
When he entered the dining hall several gazed at him curiously, and Gus Plum, whose eye was partly blackened, looked sour. Two or three lads "stuck up their noses" at Dave, but he paid no attention to anybody and merely slipped quietly into his seat.
"Master Porter, you are late," came severely from Job Haskers. "What is the reason?"
"I had an interview with Dr. Clay, in his office," answered Dave. "He told me to state that I was excused for my tardiness."
"Oh!" grumbled the second assistant, and then said no more.
Ben, Phil, and Roger looked at the country boy questioningly, but during the meal Dave got no opportunity to explain matters. And this was just as well, for he scarcely knew what to say to his friends. The meal over the lads hurried outdoors again.
"Did you report Plum?" demanded Phil, quickly.
"No, I reported nobody," answered Dave. "I am going to fight my own battles."
"But you went to the doctor——" began Roger.
"I asked him about myself, that's all. I wanted him to know that I—well, that I didn't intend to sail under false colors, as they call it."
"And what did he say, Dave?" asked Ben. "You needn't answer if you don't want to," he added hastily.
"He was very kind—oh, he's just the best man in the world! He said he knew everything, and that I needn't mind what some of the fellows might say—that he wanted me to stay——"
"Hurrah for Dr. Clay!" interrupted Phil. "I knew it. He's a man, every inch of him."
"I don't know how many of the fellows will give me the cold shoulder," continued the country boy. "But I am going to do my best not to mind them."
"And we'll help you," said the senator's son, and the others said the same.
Ben remained with Dave, but Roger and Phil soon went off. The latter did not tell why, but it was for the purpose of interviewing some of the other boys. They spoke to a dozen or more, including Sam Day, Shadow Hamilton, and Buster Beggs. On the whole, the interviews were satisfactory, although a few of the boys wanted to know more about Dave before deciding for or against him.