<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI</SPAN></h2>
<h3>BAD NEWS</h3>
<p>Attention was divided, on the part of the
crowd, between the man who had been rescued,
and the fire. The old factory was now burning
fiercely and it was useless to try to save the structure.
In fact, nearly everyone was glad that it
had been destroyed, for it would harbor no more
tramps. So the man who had been so thrillingly
rescued was the greater attraction.</p>
<p>Fortunately there was a doctor in the throng,
and he gave Mr. Benjamin some stimulants which
quickly brought him out of his faint. Then a
carriage was secured, and the man was taken to
the village hotel, Joe agreeing to be responsible
for his board. Though Mr. Benjamin had
treated Mr. Matson most unjustly, and had tried
to ruin him, yet the son thought he could do no
less than to give him some aid, especially after
the warning.</p>
<p>“Well, I guess it’s all over but the shouting,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</SPAN></span>
as they say at the baseball games,” remarked Tom
to Joe. “Let’s get home. I’m cold,” for they had
both been drenched over the upper part of their
bodies by the initiation, and the night wind was
cold, in spite of the fact that Spring was well advanced.</p>
<p>“So am I,” admitted Joe, as he watched the
carriage containing Mr. Benjamin drive off. “I’d
like some good hot lemonade.”</p>
<p>The fire now held little attraction for our
friends and they hastened back to the dormitory,
Joe explaining on the way how he had unexpectedly
rescued a former enemy of his father’s.</p>
<p>“And aren’t you going to send some word
home about that warning he gave you?” asked
Tom, as Joe finished. “That Holdney scoundrel
may be working his scheme now.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, sure. I’m going to write to dad as
soon as we get back to our room. Sure I’m going
to warn him. I’m mighty sorry for Mr. Benjamin.
He’s a smart man, but he went wrong, and
now he’s down and out, as he says. But he did me
a good service.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t even things up!” spoke Teeter.
“He surely would have been a gone one but for
you.”</p>
<p>“Oh, some one else might have thought of that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</SPAN></span>
way of getting him down if I hadn’t,” replied Joe
modestly. “I remember a story I read in one of
the books I had when I was a kid. A fellow was
on a high chimney, and a rope he had used to
haul himself up slipped down. A big crowd
gathered and no one knew how to help him. His
wife came to bring his dinner and she got onto
a scheme right away.</p>
<p>“‘Hey, John!’ she called ‘unravel your sock.
Begin at the toe!’ You see he had on knitted socks.
Well, he unravelled one, got a nice long piece of
yarn and lowered it to the ground. He tied on
his knife, or something for a weight. Then they
fastened a cord to the yarn, and a rope to the
cord, he pulled the rope up and got down off the
chimney.”</p>
<p>“Your process, only reversed,” commented
Tom. “I say fellows,” he added, “let’s run and
get warmed up. I’m shivering.”</p>
<p>“It was warm enough back there at the fire,”
said Teeter, as he looked to where the blaze was
now dying out for lack of material on which to
feed.</p>
<p>“Beastly mean of Hiram and Luke,” commented
Peaches. “They’re getting scared I guess. I
hope we get ’em out of the nine before the season’s
over.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Joe and Tom entertained their friends with
crackers and hot lemonade, and none of the professors
or monitors annoyed them with attentions.
They must have known of it, when Peaches went
to get the hot water in the dormitory kitchen, but
it is something to have a hero in a school, and Joe
was certainly the hero of the night.</p>
<p>The two lads, who had been thoroughly soaked,
stripped and took a good rub down, and this, with
the hot lemonade, set them into a warm glow.
Then they sat about and talked and talked until
nearly midnight.</p>
<p>Joe wrote a long letter to his father explaining
all the circumstances and warned him to be on the
lookout. One of the janitors who had to arise
early to attend to his duties promised to see that
the missive got off on the first morning mail.</p>
<p>“There, now, I guess we’ll go to bed,” announced
Joe.</p>
<p>There was much subdued excitement in chapel
the next morning, and Dr. Fillmore made a reference
to the events of the night before.</p>
<p>“I am very proud of the way you young gentlemen
behaved at the fire,” he said. “It was an
exciting occasion, and yet you held yourselves well
within bounds. We have reason to be very proud<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</SPAN></span>
of one of our number who distinguished himself,
and——”</p>
<p>“Three cheers for Joe Matson!” yelled
Peaches, and they were given heartily—something
that had never before happened in chapel. Dr.
Fillmore looked surprised, and Professor Rodd
was evidently pained, but Dr. Rudden was observed
to join in the ovation, over which Joe
blushed painfully.</p>
<p>Joe caught a cold from his wetting and exposure.
It was nothing serious, but the school physician
thought he had better stay in bed for a
couple of days, and, much against his will the
young pitcher did so.</p>
<p>“How is baseball practice going on?” he asked
Tom after the first day. “I wish I could get out
and watch it.”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s going pretty good. We scrubs have
a hard job holding the school nine down when
you’re not there to pitch. There’s a game with
Woodside Hall to-morrow, and I guess we’ll
win.”</p>
<p>Excelsior Hall did win that contest, but not by
as big a score as they should have done. It was
the old story of Hiram and Luke not managing
things right, and having weak pitchers. Still it<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</SPAN></span>
was a victory, and served to elate the bully and
his crony.</p>
<p>It was on the third day of Joe’s imprisonment
in his room, and his cold was much better. He
had heard that Mr. Benjamin had recovered and
left the hotel; no one knew for what place.</p>
<p>He sent Joe a note of thanks, however, and it
came in with some mail from home. Joe opened
the home letters first. There was one from his
father, enclosed in one from his mother and
Clara.</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“Dear Joe,” wrote Mr. Matson. “I got your
warning, but it was too late. Why didn’t you
telegraph me? The night before your letter got
here some valuable papers and models were stolen
from my new shop. I have no doubt but that
Holdney did it—he or some of his tools. It will
cripple me badly, but I may be able to pull
through. I appreciate what Benjamin did for
us, and it was mighty smart of you to save him
that way. But why didn’t you telegraph me about
the danger to my models?”</p>
</div>
<p>“That’s it!” exclaimed Joe bitterly to himself.
“What a chump I was. Why didn’t I
telegraph dad, and then it would have been in
time. Why didn’t I?”</p>
<hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</SPAN></span></p>
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