THE INVESTIGATION

As soon as the recitations were finished that morning, Ward sought out Little Pond and as they walked together to the dining hall, he said:

"What did you mean by what you said about ashes having been sprinkled on the hill yesterday?"

"Brown told me," replied Little Pond. "Brown said he overheard Tim and Ripley talking together this morning before chapel. He wasn't trying to listen you know, but they take their meals at the same place, and as they came out of the house he heard Ripley say something about ashes and then Tim say 'Yes,' and that 'somebody must go up there right away.' Then they suddenly stopped short as they looked behind them and saw Brown so near them. Brown said they looked guilty too, and as they knew he was a good friend to Jack, they probably were afraid he had overheard them."

"What did Brown do then?"

"Oh, he said that it flashed into his mind in an instant just what they'd been up to. He thinks that Tim had arranged with these fellows who stuck to the road yesterday, you remember, there by the last of those steep places till we were almost on them. Brown believes that they had sprinkled ashes over the path, or rather over one of the paths, and that they held their places as they did to drive 'The Arrow' right on to it. Then he thinks too that Tim steered in toward us a bit so as to drive us farther and make sure that we'd be held back."

"The rascal," muttered Ward angrily.

"You don't really think Tim Pickard intended to force us out of the road, do you, Ward?" inquired Little Pond. "I think all he wanted--that is, if Brown's right--was to send us on to the ashes, so that we'd be held back and he'd get a chance to gain enough to let him keep the lead on the way down the hill. I can't believe he'd do anything so bad as to drive us into the wall."

"Oh, Tim Pickard's all gentleness! He wouldn't harm any one! He'd never take a fellow out in a baby carriage and jostle him around over the rough ground, not he! He wouldn't stack a room. He wouldn't do anything that isn't just the proper thing to do! Oh no, Tim Pickard's too good for this world, I mean, of course, the Weston world, you know. For my part, I wish he was taken out of it too. Weston would be a very decent sort of a place without him."

Ward spoke bitterly for his heart was hot against Tim Pickard and the "Tangs." Not that he believed that even Tim would deliberately plan to run the boys into such danger as the load "The Arrow" carried had incurred, but he was well aware of his bitter feeling against him, and to an extent against Jack as well, and also of his desire for "The Swallow" to win the race, and that he would stop at nothing to carry his point.

However, he said nothing more to Little Pond, but as soon as he had finished his dinner, he hastened over to East Hall and had a long conversation with Brown, the result of which was that Brown and Baxter, another of the East Hall boys, soon after dinner started up West Hill to make some investigations near the place where the accident had occurred.

Doctor Leslie came out into the hall as Ward departed and the troubled lad delayed for a moment to learn of Jack's condition.

"He's better, decidedly better," said the kind-hearted physician. "I think he's going to pull through all right if we have no setbacks. It was a great shaking up you boys had."

"It certainly was for Jack and Henry," replied Ward. "The rest of us got a few bruises and scratches, but we don't mind such little things."

"Well, I understand that a physician's services are not likely to be required in any similar cases very soon. I hear the principal has forbidden the use of bobs any more."

"Yes, but our sled's all broken up, so we couldn't use it if we wanted to."

"And that makes Doctor Gray's prohibition more easily borne, does it?" said Doctor Leslie with a smile.

Ward made no response as he started toward West Hall. On his way Mr. Blake overtook him and as they walked on together, the teacher said: "Well, Hill, I hear that Hobart is likely to be about again soon. That was a very careless piece of work."

"Careless? I don't understand what you mean," replied Ward angrily.

"Why, Timothy Pickard tells me that you were trying to cut across his path and get ahead of him in the race. That was hardly fair I think, and it ended just as all tricks are sure to end. I'm sure honesty is the best policy, even in a race between bobs."

"Did Pickard tell you that?"

"Yes; I had quite an extended conversation with him this morning. Timothy has improved greatly since he returned to school this year, as you know, Hill. I confess I was somewhat dubious as to the advisability of receiving him back into the school, but Doctor Gray plainly understood him better than any of us did. There is a certain frankness about Timothy Pickard that I now greatly admire. He has had many conversations with me this year, and I am beginning to feel proud of him. There must be something about the Weston air which is highly conducive to manliness. And, Hill, while I am speaking, let me say that I should rejoice greatly if you too were disposed to manifest a little more friendly disposition toward your teachers. You must bear in mind that we are here for the sole purpose of aiding you, and yet you apparently are not eager to receive it."

If Ward had not been so angry, he would have felt inclined to laugh. It was a new departure for Mr. Blake to assume the role of a helper among the boys. Indeed, at times Ward had felt so keenly the impositions of the boys upon him that he had been many times tempted to take his part. The tall, awkward, ungainly teacher had never been a favorite with any of them. Of his scholarship no one had any doubt, but apparently he was lacking in the appreciation of boy nature, and even then Ward recalled the many pranks which the various classes had played upon him. Even Doctor Gray's words in the preceding year, when he had almost begged of Ward and Henry to exert their influence to see that Mr. Blake's pathway was not made so rough, came back to him now.

And here was Mr. Blake posing as a friend. Ward knew that in his heart the teacher desired to be popular in the school, but his desire had been so apparent as to cheapen his very efforts in that direction.

As for himself, Ward had never felt drawn to him and in his heart he did not respect him. He had done his work in his classes, but never had he felt the slightest inclination to go to him as he had done so many times to Mr. Crane.

And yet now he recalled the fact that he had heard and even noticed that Tim was disposed to be very friendly with the awkward teacher of mathematics. Just what he had in mind by such a course of action, Ward could not determine, but he was satisfied that Tim, to whom at the present time he was not disposed to impute any worthy act or motive, must have some deep-laid plans in mind.

Ward's silence was not understood by Mr. Blake, and as they entered West Hall, the teacher said: "I am glad to see that you have been impressed by what I have said, Hill. You have shown an inclination to do better in your studies this term than you did last, but I trust you will also conform to the spirit as well as to the letter of the Weston rules and life."

Ward said "Thank you" somewhat gruffly, and then hastened up the stairway to his room. Henry was there when he entered, and he at once related to him the outcome of his conversation with Brown, and also told him of the expedition of Brown and Baxter to West Hill.

As he went on to relate the conversation with Mr. Blake, even the staid and sober Henry could not repress the smile which came at the thought of the new air which the teacher had assumed, and with Ward he agreed that Tim must have some deeper motive in his mind than was now apparent in cultivating the friendship of Mr. Blake.

It had been decided that Henry was not to go home. While his arm pained him intensely, and h............