RANDOLPH GETS THE WATCH
“It is true,” said the
teacher, slowly. “Randolph has won the race.”
Randolph’s face lighted up with exultation.
“But it is also evident,”
continued Mr. Hooper, “that he would not have
succeeded but for the unfortunate collision between
Luke Larkin and Tom Harper.”
Here some of Luke’s friends brightened up.
“I don’t know about that,”
said Randolph. “At any rate, I came in
first.”
“I watched the race closely,”
said the teacher, “and I have no doubt on the
subject. Luke had so great a lead that he would
surely have won the race.”
“But he didn’t,” persisted Randolph,
doggedly.
“He did not, as we all know.
It is also clear that had he not stopped to ascertain
the extent of Tom’s injuries he still might
have won.”
“That’s so!” said half a dozen boys.
“Therefore I cannot accept the
result as indicating the superiority of the successful
contestant.”
“I think I am entitled to the prize,”
said Randolph.
“I concede that; but, under
the circumstances, I suggest to you that it would
be graceful and proper to waive your claim and try
the race over again.”
The boys applauded, with one or two exceptions.
“I won’t consent to that,
Mr. Hooper,” said Randolph, frowning. “I’ve
won the prize fairly and I want it.”
“I am quite willing Randolph
should have it, sir,” said Luke. “I
think I should have won it if I had not stopped with
Tom, but that doesn’t affect the matter one
way or the other. Randolph came in first, as
he says, and I think he is entitled to the watch.”
“Then,” said Mr. Hooper,
gravely, “there is nothing more to be said.
Randolph, come forward and receive the prize.”
Randolph obeyed with alacrity, and
received the Waterbury watch from the hands of Mr.
Hooper. The boys stood in silence and offered
no congratulations.
“Now, let me say,” said
the teacher, “that I cannot understand why there
was any collision at all. Tom Harper, why did
you get in Luke’s way?”
“Because I was a fool, sir,”
answered Tom, smarting from his injuries, and the
evident indifference of Randolph, in whose cause he
had incurred them.
“That doesn’t answer my
question. Why did you act like a fool, as you
expressed it?”
“I thought I could get out of
the way in time,” stammered Tom, who did not
dare to tell the truth.
“You had no other reason?”
asked the teacher, searchingly.
“No, sir. What other reason
could I have?” said Tom, but his manner betrayed
confusion.
“Indeed, I don’t know,”
returned the teacher, quietly. “Your action,
however, spoiled Luke’s chances and insured the
success of Randolph.”
“And got me a broken head,”
muttered Tom, placing his hand upon the swelling at
the back of his head.
“Yes, you got the worst of it.
I advise you to go home and apply cold water or any
other remedy your mother may suggest.”
Randolph had already turned away,
meaning to return home. Tom joined him.
Randolph would gladly have dispensed with his company,
but had no decent excuse, as Tom’s home lay
in the same direction as his.
“Well, Randolph, you’ve
won the watch,” said Tom, when they were out
of hearing of the other boys.
“Yes,” answered Randolph,
indifferently. “I don’t care so much
for that as for the ten dollars my father is going
to give me.”
“That’s what I thought.
You’ve got another watch, you know—more
valuable.”
“Well, what of it?” said Randolph, suspiciously.
“I think you might give me the Waterbury.
I haven’t got any.”
“Why should I give it to you?” answered
Randolph, coldly.
“Because but for me you wouldn’t
have won it, nor the ten dollars, neither.”
“How do you make that out?”
“The teacher said so himself.”
“I don’t agree to it.”
“You can’t deny it.
Luke was seven or eight rods ahead when I got in his
way.”
“Then it was lucky for me.”
“It isn’t lucky for me. My head hurts
awfully.”
“I’m very sorry, of course.”
“That won’t do me any
good. Come, Randolph, give me the watch, like
a good fellow.”
“Well, you’ve got cheek, I must say.
I want the watch myself.”
“And is that all the satisfaction
I am to get for my broken head?” exclaimed Tom,
indignantly.
Randolph was a thoroughly mean boy,
who, if he had had a dozen watches, would have wished
to keep them all for himself.
“I’ve a great mind to
tell Luke and the teacher of the arrangement between
us.”
“There wasn’t any arrangement,”
said Randolph, sharply. “However, as I’m
really sorry for you, I am willing to give you a quarter.
There, now, don’t let me hear any more about
the matter.”
He drew a silver quarter from his
vest pocket and tendered it to Tom.
Tom Harper was not a sensitive boy,
but his face flushed with indignation and shame, and
he made no offer to take the money.
“Keep your quarter, Randolph
Duncan,” he said scornfully. “I think
you’re the meanest specimen of a boy that I ever
came across. Any boy is a fool to be your friend.
I don’t care to keep company with you any longer.”
“This to me!” exclaimed
Randolph, angrily. “This is the pay I get
for condescending to let you go with me.”
“You needn’t condescend
any longer,” said Tom, curtly, and he crossed
to the other side of the street.
Randolph looked after him rather uneasily.
After all, he was sorry to lose his humble follower.
“He’ll be coming round
in a day or two to ask me to take him back,”
he reflected. “I would be willing to give
him ten cents more, but as for giving him the watch,
he must think me a fool to part with that.”