Saint Adam and The Blackburn Medal
Chapter 1
Adam Cartwright turned from the window when he heard another person enter the room. He watched as recognition and then disdain entered the young man's face.
"I never expected to see you here." The comment was delivered with a sneer worthy of Chase Winthrop's most illustrious forbearers.
Adam raised an eyebrow and allowed his lips to curl at the edges. "No, I don't suppose you expected the Rube from the West to be one of the candidates for the Blackburn Medal." Adam leaned back against the edge of the window ledge and nonchalantly adjusted his jacket sleeves as his lips curled even more.
The Blackburn Medal was the most prestigious award given to any senior at the college, and Adam was one of the three candidates chosen by the faculty to present themselves for personal interviews. The other two were Chase Winthrop, scion of the Boston Winthrops, and Albert Braun whose family owned half a shipping fleet. Albert was a quiet, studious fellow who had arrived at the dean's house first and now sat nervously trying not to stare. Chase Winthrop was the product of centuries of self-indulgent snobbery and seemed bent on upholding the family tradition of condescending self-importance. He had hated Adam Cartwright on sight and allowed no opportunity for insult to pass though he was careful to keep them all veiled or backstabbing.
A flicker crossed Winthrop's face as he heard Adam refer to his favorite appellation for the student from the wilds of the Western territories, for he recognized the edge in Adam's voice.
"I have meant no offense, Cartwright." Chase's tone was hollow, and his smile was that of a wax doll. "You realize it was just a good-natured jibe."
"No more offense was taken than was meant," Adam replied coolly. Then he straightened and added, "Of course, in my more uncivilized part of the world only a man's friends are allowed such jibes; others. . ." Adam let his reference dangle and shrugged in a way that moved his hand from his hip in a gesture that conveyed exactly what Adam intended. Chase Winthrop had never seen a man draw a pistol, but he knew Adam had handled one and involuntarily took a step back.
Just then the dean's assistant entered and requested Albert Braun to follow him. After Albert exited the room to be the first interviewed, Adam took a seat and casually stretched out his long legs.
Chase was over a foot shorter than Adam and sensitive about his height. Disconcerted by his response to Adam's movement and by his rival's calm self-assurance, Chase's temper sparked. "The medal's mine, you know!"
"Perhaps. I'm sure your family has purchased more expensive trinkets for you, but then Albert's family is capable of quite a sizable bid. Of course, some relative of yours might call in a favor." Adam's nonchalant tone added even more sting to his words. Chase's eyes blazed. Then Adam looked directly into Chase's eyes. "At least, if I win, I'll know it was awarded on merit."
Chase Winthrop had never thrown a punch in his well-protected life, but he lunged at Adam angered beyond reason. Adam was on his feet in a second and blocked Chase's wild swing easily and with just enough force to topple Boston's finest on his well-clad behind.
"I wouldn't try it again," Adam chided looking down at his would-be opponent. Then he smiled. "Fighting is such poor manners when one is a guest. Now, if you would care to meet me in a proper arena."
Chase Winthrop breathed heavily as fear and returning reason had him shake his head. Adam turned his back and walked to look out the window once more. Still seated on the floor, Chase Winthrop stared at the black expanse of Adam Cartwright's jacket and vowed to have his revenge on the barbarian.
Chase Winthrop had regained his feet and his composure before he was the next candidate led from the room. Adam turned from the window then and settled on a red velvet chair. He sighed wondering if he should have done more to avoid the confrontation with Winthrop.
Someone could have walked in on us. Now wouldn't that have sealed the deal! Not that I have a snowball's chance in Hades of winning the Blackburn Medal over Winthrop and Braun. Winthrop's not the only snob on this campus, and some of the others are on the faculty. Adam's arms slipped across his chest, and he absentmindedly tugged at his left ear. Well, there's nothing to be done about that. Pa will be well-pleased just to hear I was a candidate. The nervous tension he had felt since receiving the committee's invitation to the competitive interviews slowly drained from his body, and he was perfectly at ease with himself when the dean's assistant ushered him before the committee.
ACACACACAC
Now, that wasn't so bad. In fact, I think it went rather well. Adam smiled as he mentally congratulated himself on his interview. He reached for his hat and settled it on his head at a slightly jaunty angle. As he turned to leave, a hand on his shoulder made him pause.
"Cartwright, might I have a private word with you?" It was Professor Bell, one of the committee members who had just conducted his interview.
"Of course, sir."
"I'm leaving also. Perhaps we could speak as we walk?"
Adam suppressed the inquiring rise of his eyebrow and politely agreed. As they reached the lane in front of the dean's house, Professor Bell began speaking.
"I wanted you to know that I was quite favorably impressed with how you handled yourself just now, as were other members of the committee."
"Why, thank you, Professor Bell. As a group, well, you are very impressive."
"And intimidating?"
Adam gave the professor a self-deprecating smile. "Yes, sir. I couldn't disagree with that."
"You didn't give a hint of being intimidated."
"Then perhaps I'm a better actor than I knew."
Professor Bell came to a stop and turned his full gaze on Adam. "Were you acting, young man? Were you really quaking in your boots?"
Adam lifted his chin. "No, sir, actually I wasn't."
"Why? Is the Blackburn medal of little concern to you?"
Adam answered honestly. "Winning the Blackburn is of great concern to me, Professor Bell. I suppose I wasn't intimidated, well, for several reasons."
"Which are?"
Adam's stance became one that mimicked a junior officer in front of his captain. "To understand the first, you would have to have met my father and grandfather; I've faced grilling at the hands of two very intimidating men on a regular basis."
A slight smile came to Professor Bell's lips. "Have you now?"
Adam smiled back. "Yes, sir, and lived to tell the tale."
"I'm sure some of those tales are quite interesting."
"Not to someone with more important matters on their mind like yourself," Adam retorted neatly.
"Your other reasons?"
"Well, while receiving the Blackburn would be a great honor and one that I'd dearly appreciate, I realize that, well, as my stepmother would have said, it would be lagniappe, something extra. I came here for knowledge, not honors, after all."
The professor nodded. "Quite so. And your final reason, Mr. Cartwright?"
Adam's eyes dropped, and his voice lost volume, but he answered forthrightly, "I'm a realist, sir. My family name doesn't carry the weight of Winthrop or Braun." He raised his eyes then to read the professor's reaction.
"Ahh, you are a realist, my boy!" Professor Bell placed his hand on Adam's forearm and said simply, "Academically, the three of you are neck in neck. Each of your reputations outside the classroom have their own merits. Your interviews, well, I've already told you that you did well. Still, the committee considers many factors, and admittedly family prestige and money have a certain influence with some members." The professor's hand patted Adam's arm. "The decision is not yet made, Mr. Cartwright, and there are some on the committee who give those factors little consideration. At any rate, I want you to remember that win or lose you were a worthy candidate."
Adam's dimples were at their deepest as he replied, "Thank you, professor."