Hector's Inheritance, Or, the Boys of Smith Institute by Jr. Horatio Alger (short novels to read .txt) 📕

answered Mr. Smith, nervously, for he began to see that the course he had been pursuing was a very unwise one.

“Hector has written me, inclosing a statement signed by two of his schoolfellows, implicating your own nephew, and he charges that you made the charge against him out of partiality for the same.”

“There is considerable prejudice against my nephew,” said Socrates.

“And for very good reasons, I should judge,” said Allan Roscoe, severely. “Hector describes him as an outrageous bully and tyrant. I am surprised, Mr. Smith, that you should have taken his part.”

Now, Socrates had already had a stormy interview with his nephew. Though partial to Jim, and not caring whether or not he bullied the other boys, as soon as he came to see that Jim’s presence was endangering the school, he reprimanded him severely. He cared more for himself—for number one—than for anyone else in the universe. He had been exceedingly disturbed by receiving letters from the fathers of Wilkins and Ben Platt, and two other fathers, giving notice that they should remove their sons at the end of the term, and demanding, in the meantime, that his nephew should be sent away forthwith.

And now Allan Roscoe, whom he had hoped would side with him, had also turned against him. Then he had lost the services of a competent usher, whom he got cheaper than he could secure any suitable successor, and, altogether, things seemed all going against him.

Moreover, Jim, who had been the occasion of all the trouble, had answered him impudently, and Socrates felt that he had been badly used. As to his own agency in the matter, he did not give much thought to that.

“My nephew is going to leave the school, Mr. Roscoe,” said Socrates, half-apologetically.

“I should think it was full time, Mr. Smith.”

“Perhaps so,” said Smith; “but if I have stood by him, it has been in ignorance. I cannot think him as wrong as your ward has probably represented. Hector was jealous of him.”

“Of his scholarship, I presume?”

“Well, no,” answered the principal, reluctantly, “but of his physical superiority, and—and influence in the school. I may say, in fact, Mr. Roscoe, that till your ward entered the school it was a happy and harmonious family. His coming stirred up strife and discontent, and I consider him primarily responsible for all the trouble that has occurred.”

“I don’t defend Hector Roscoe,” said Allan, “but he writes me that your nephew was a bully, who imposed upon his schoolfellows, and that he, by taking their part and stopping this tyranny, incurred his ill-will and yours.”

“I supposed I should be misrepresented,” said Socrates, meekly. “I am devoted to my school and my pupils, Mr. Roscoe. I am wearing out my life in their service. I may make mistakes sometimes, but my heart—my heart, Mr. Roscoe,” continued Socrates, tapping his waistcoat, “is right, and acquits me of any intentional injustice.”

“I am glad to hear it, Mr. Smith,” said Allan Roscoe, stiffly. “As Hector has left you, I have only to settle your bill, and bid you good-day.”

“Will you not exert your influence to persuade the boy to return?” pleaded Socrates.

“As I don’t know where he is, I don’t see how I can,” said Allan Roscoe, dryly.

“That man is an arch hypocrite!” he said to himself, as he was returning home.

I may state here that at the end of the term half the pupils left Smith Institute, and Socrates Smith lamented too late the folly that had made him and his school unpopular.