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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Skippy Bedelle + His Sentimental Progress From the Urchin to the Complete + Man of the World + +Author: Owen Johnson + +Illustrator: Ernest Fuhr + +Release Date: May 14, 2008 [EBook #25465] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKIPPY BEDELLE *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> +<h1>SKIPPY BEDELLE</h1> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="Front matter"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 252px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="252" height="400" alt="Cover" title="Cover" /> +</div></td><td align='left' style="border: 1px black solid;"> +<h2>By Owen Johnson</h2> + +<div class='center'><i>Lawrenceville Stories</i></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Lawrenceville Stories"> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Prodigious Hickey</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Varmint</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Tennessee Shad</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Skippy Bedelle</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='center'>——————</div> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Other books"> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Stover at Yale</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Wasted Generation</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Blue Blood</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Children of Divorce</span></td></tr> +</table></div> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='center'><a name="front" id="front"></a> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Title page and frontispiece"> +<tr><td align='left'> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 312px;"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="312" height="400" alt="They walked in silence, oppressed by the greatness of their grief. Frontispiece. See page 279" title="They walked in silence, oppressed by the greatness of their grief. Frontispiece. See page 279" /> +<span class="caption">They walked in silence, oppressed by the greatness of their grief. <br /><span class='smcap'>Frontispiece.</span> <a href="#Page_279"><i>See page</i> 279</a></span> +</div></td><td align='left'><h1> +SKIPPY BEDELLE<br /></h1> +<div class='center'> +HIS SENTIMENTAL PROGRESS FROM<br /> +THE URCHIN TO THE COMPLETE<br /> +MAN OF THE WORLD<br /><br /></div> + +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>OWEN JOHNSON</h2> +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /> +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br /> +ERNEST FUHR<br /><br /> +<br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 108px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.png" width="108" height="147" alt="Emblem" title="Emblem" /> +</div><div class='center'><br /> +<br /> +BOSTON<br /><br /> +LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY<br /> +1937<br /></div></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> + +<div class='center'><i><small>Copyright, 1922</small></i>,<br /> +<span class="smcap"><small>By Owen Johnson.</small></span><br /> +——————<br /> +<i><small>All rights reserved</small></i><br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="smcap"><small>Printed in the United States of America</small></span><br /></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> + +<div class='center'> +<i>To</i><br /> +CHARLES HANSON TOWNE<br /> +<br /> +<small>FOR AULD LANG SYNE</small><br /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></p> + +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Likewise a Declaration of Principles</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>UNTIL the first great disillusions of his +youth, the Bedelle Foot Regulator and the +Mosquito-Proof Socks, had brought a new sentimental +need of consolation and understanding, +Skippy Bedelle's opinion of the feminine +sex had been decidedly monastic. During the +first twenty-five years of their existence, he regarded +them as unmitigated nuisances, and +pondering on them, he often wondered at the +hidden purposes of the Creator. Later they +might possibly serve some purpose by marrying +and adding to the world's supply of boys. +In a further progress, a sort of penitential +progress, they became more valuable members +of society, as maiden aunts who tipped you on +the quiet, and grandmothers who mitigated +parental severity and knew the exquisite art of +ginger snaps, crisp and brown.</div> + +<p>But before the skirted animal, which resembled +but was quite unlike a man, had atoned +for the error of her birth, Skippy refused to +take her seriously. There were boys even +younger than he who wore girls' jewelry, who +wrote and received what were called "mash<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span> +notes," and who flaunted these sentimentalities +openly. He knew such incomprehensible males +did exist. There were three on his block and +he had thrashed them all soundly and been +thrashed for having thrashed them, which of +course convinced him in his biblical estimate +that women were created for the confusion of +man.</p> + +<p>Skippy's prejudice was of long root. From +an early age he had been afflicted with sisters; +one older and one younger, and he could find no +mitigating circumstances between the sister who +could hit you and could not be hit back, who +never romped without pretending to howl, and +the sister who put you at your ease when you +had tripped over the parlor rug, by asking +publicly:</p> + +<p>"John, have you washed <i>behind</i> your ears?"</p> + +<p>The thought of girls was inalienably connected +in his memory with unnecessary washing +up; with boring parties; with stiff collars; with +unending polishing of shoes; humiliating walks +down the avenue, stammering, idiotic phrases, +while from every window the eyes of malicious +friends were set in mockery. Girls never slid +down the banisters or fell out of apple trees, or +snapped garter snakes, or raised white mice or +collected splinters coasting down the icehouse +roof. Girls were always spruced up and shining; +always covered with pink ribbons and waiting +for callers; always dressing and undressing;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span> +always kissing their worst enemies in public +instead of giving them a dig in the ribs or +treading on their toes and whispering under +their breath:</p> + +<p>"Wait till I catch you outside; I'll tear the +hide off er yer!"</p> + +<p>Girls spoiled vacations. It was on account of +girls, to give them something to do, that dancing +schools were invented; that pews in churches +were stiff and uncomfortable; that ministers +stormed and threatened until the hour hand +had gone its round. In a word, wherever life +was drab, or stiff, or formal, wherever prohibitions +intervened to check the young impulse, +wherever the policing principle showed itself, +at the bottom somewhere the feminine sex must +be the cause.</p> + +<p>Gradually, of course, some mitigation came +to this inveterate contempt; gradually he did +begin to distinguish between girls as such and +women. He saw that some such line of demarcation +must be drawn but it was still confused +and hazy. Later on it was undoubtedly true +that woman must play some part in a man's +life; this much he gathered from novels and the +ways of those giants to his imagination, the +great Turkey Reiter and Charlie de Soto.</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly in the long process of evolution +from the clam to the stripling, morality was the +contribution of the imitative monkey period +each boy passes as he merges towards perfect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span> +manhood. A thousand supplications, commandings, +and exhortations cannot accomplish what +the spectacle of a Turkey Reiter or a Charlie +de Soto or a Dink Stover instantly achieves in +its casual Olympic passing. Such, with all due +respect to the efforts of secondary education, +are the real moral forces of youth.</p> + +<p>When therefore Skippy had made choice of +his heroes and slavishly set himself in imitation, +he had been unpleasantly disturbed by +their evident friendliness to the sex he despised +and after much mental perturbation perceived +that sooner or later he, too, would share the +common lot and actually take pleasure in explaining +to something pink and white, with +large rolling eyes and smiling teeth, that the +game of baseball is played with a ball and a bat +and that the fielder and not the batter is chasing +the ball, that the difference between baseball +and football is that a baseball hurts the hands +and a football hurts the foot.</p> + +<p>Some day when he grew to be Captain of the +Eleven like Dink Stover undoubtedly he would +condescend to be gazed at and flattered and +fondled. If Dink Stover could stand the way +Tough McCarthy's sister hung on his arm and +flirted openly before the whole school—why of +course in permitting such a display of affection +Dink Stover was right, for Dink Stover could +do no wrong. Some day, then, like his hero, he +would condescend to be adored. Some day his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span> +turn would come as they sang at the immortal +Weber and Fields:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"For I must love some one,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And it may as well be you."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>But all this was in the uncharted future. +His attitude toward the sex was still the attitude +of normal soap-defying boyhood, defensive +and belligerent. Yet all this was to change, in +the twinkling of an eye, in one short season. +The first great disillusionments of youth were +at hand and woman with the mask of sympathy +and understanding waiting to fashion the man +out of the urchin. By what ways, ludicrous and +tragically comic, this sentimental progression +was achieved is here set down in reverent +reminiscence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Spine and Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 94px;"> +<img src="images/spine.jpg" width="94" height="500" alt="Spine of book" title="Spine of book" /> +</div> +</td><td align='left'><div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'><span class='smcap'>Preface</span></td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'>Likewise a Declaration of Principles</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_vii">vii</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'><small>CHAPTER</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>I</td><td align='left'>Fate in a Bathtub</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>II</td><td align='left'>Birth of an Idea</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>III</td><td align='left'>Macnooder Opens Vistas</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IV</td><td align='left'>Loneliness of Great Men</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>V</td><td align='left'>The Golden Shower</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VI</td><td align='left'>Methods of a Financier</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VII</td><td align='left'>Tragedy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VIII</td><td align='left'>When Friends Prove False</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IX</td><td align='left'>Snorky as a Lady-Killer</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>X</td><td align='left'>Love Lightly Considered</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_59">59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XI</td><td align='left'>The Demon of Jealousy</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XII</td><td align='left'>All's Well That Ends Well</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIII</td><td align='left'>A Woman of the World</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIV</td><td align='left'>The Plot Against the Mosquito</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XV</td><td align='left'>The Tennessee Shad Suspects</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVI</td><td align='left'>Experiments in Fragrance</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVII</td><td align='left'>Soap and Sentiment</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span>XVIII</td><td align='left'>Love Comes Like the Measles</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIX</td><td align='left'>The Urchin Begins to Bloom</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XX</td><td align='left'>The Heart of a Brunette</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXI</td><td align='left'>Worldly Wisdom of Skippy Bedelle</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXII</td><td align='left'>Girls as an Epidemic</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXIII</td><td align='left'>The Blonde of the Species</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXIV</td><td align='left'>Result of a Brother's Advice</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXV</td><td align='left'>Antics of a Talking Machine</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXVI</td><td align='left'>Containing Some High Melodrama</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXVII</td><td align='left'>Hickey in a Deadly Rôle</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXVIII</td><td align='left'>Sitting It Out</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXIX</td><td align='left'>Dead Game Sports</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXX</td><td align='left'>Experiments in a Dress Suit</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXXI</td><td align='left'>Shirt Studs as Cupid's Messenger</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXXII</td><td align='left'>Living up to an Angel</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXXIII</td><td align='left'>Sudden Interest in the Bible</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXXIV</td><td align='left'>The Way of the Transgressor</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXXV</td><td align='left'>The Scalp Hunter</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXXVI</td><td align='left'>Splashing With Your Toes</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXXVII</td><td align='left'>Skippy Retires With His Scalp</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXXVIII</td><td align='left'>The Philosophical Attitude</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_289">289</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXXIX</td><td align='left'>Love Plus Hippo</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_305">305</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XL</td><td align='left'>Reality Minus Hippo</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</a></span></p> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'>They walked in silence, oppressed by the greatness of their grief</td><td align='right'><a href="#front"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Instantly the air was filled with flying sponges</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_3">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"Good gracious!" cried Miss Dabtree with an impetuous lunge towards the point of attack</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"Really, Jack, I'm beginning to suspect you're an old hand."</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>He balanced carefully, stretched out one arm to encircle an imaginary waist</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The partner of his arms, escaping, rolled over towards Tootsie</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2>SKIPPY BEDELLE</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Fate in a Bathtub</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THERE comes a moment when without +warning boy and puppy instantaneously +pass into the consciousness of manhood. With +the young canine it comes with the first deep-throated +defiance of the intruder, the instinct +that the wriggling, fawning days are over and +that the moment to attack and accept attack +has arrived. With the human puppy the change +is more elusive. To some it comes with the +first clinging splendor of long trousers, to +others with the first hopeless love, when at the +tragic age of fifteen the world, fate and the +disparity of ages intervene. But usually this +transformation, all in the twinkling of an eye, +from the hungry slouch of boyhood into the +stern and brooding adolescence, comes with the +discovery of a controlling idea. Without any +apparent cause, some illuminating purpose descends +on the imagination, the future opens, +and in the vision of a future Napoleon, a P. T. +Barnum, a millionaire or a predestined genius +the man emerges.</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +When Skippy Bedelle at the age of fifteen +years and three months, in the warmth of early +Spring, rambled across the green stretches to +his appointed rendezvous with Compulsory +Bath, he went as a puppy sidles to an undetermined +purpose, with a skipping, broken motion, +occasionally halting for an extra hitch at +the long undisciplined trousers. A cap rode +on the straw-colored shock of hair which hung +like weeds over the freckled, sharp nose and +the wide and famished mouth. Once the idea +occurred to him to turn a cartwheel, and he +promptly landed sprawling on his back, picked +himself up, skipped forward a dozen steps, +stooped to tighten a shoe lace and arrived +breathlessly before Doc Cubberly, who was eyeing +him, watch in hand.</p> + +<p>Thirty seconds later he was contemplating +the tips of his toes from the warm and delicious +water, yielding to the relaxing ecstasy of pleasant +day dreams. He had no quarrel with water +as such, though from principle and to remain +regular he rebelled against the element of compulsion, +but water, particularly warm water, +brought him a quickening of the imagination.</p> + +<p>Now between water as such and bath, particularly +compulsory bath, is all the difference +between the blue freedom of the sky and the +allotted breathing space which is enclosed in +a cage. There was something peculiarly humiliating +and servile in being forced to soap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +and water three times a week under penalty of +having your name read out before a tittering +schoolroom—<i>Absent from Bath!</i> It vaguely +recalled medieval days and such abominations +as the inspection of ears and the prying intrusion +of governesses!</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 283px;"> +<img src="images/facing-004.jpg" width="283" height="400" alt="Instantly the air was filled with flying sponges. Page 4" title="Instantly the air was filled with flying sponges. Page 4" /> +<span class="caption">Instantly the air was filled with flying sponges. Page 4</span> +</div> + + +<p>Skippy was aware of all this and publicly +voiced his indignation at the despotic practice. +To have done otherwise would have been to +draw down a storm of ridicule. There are certain +traditions in school life as firmly established +as the doctrine of infant damnation in +the good old days of theology. Secretly, however, +Skippy adored the first warm contact of +the tentative toes, the slow ecstasy of the +mounting ripple over the sinking body and the +long, drowsy languor of complete submersion. +It was the apotheosis of happiness when all the +aches and vexations of the day disappeared in +a narcotic reverie, when he could forget the +scorn of the Roman, flunking him; the jibes of +Slugger Jones, the rigorous discipline of Turkey +Reiter and the base ingratitude of Dennis +de Brian de Boru Finnegan, who had refused +him the price of a jigger, with pockets that +bulged with the silver he had loaned him.</p> + + +<p>"Well, I'll be jiggswiggered!"</p> + +<p>Skippy looked up hastily to perceive the unwashed +features of Slops Barnett peering over +the partition in set disapproval.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Slops!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What are you doing that for?"</p> + +<p>"Doing what?"</p> + +<p>"Getting into it," said Slops in an angry +whisper. "You're a nice one, you are!"</p> + +<p>Slops' method of rebellion, which antedated +the hunger strike, was to submit to a superior +authority so far as outward appearances required. +But once safely behind a locked door, +he employed the minimum of ten minutes in +simulating the bathing process by immense disturbances +in the bathtub, produced without recourse +to disrobing processes, while gleefully +chanting:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Mother may I go out to swim?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Yes, my darling daughter.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Hang your clothes on a hickory limb</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But don't go near the water!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Don't go near, don't go near, don't go near the water!"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Publicly Skippy stood pledged to this uncompromising +defiance of the Powers That Be, +so with Slops Barnett's accusing glance on him, +he answered hastily:</p> + +<p>"I caught an awful cold and got to steam it +out!"</p> + +<p>"Faker!"</p> + +<p>"Honest, Slops."</p> + +<p>At this moment a dripping sponge came spinning +through the air and struck the young +irreconcilable squarely between the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"If Pee-wee Davis threw that sponge I'll +skin him alive," announced Slops wrathfully. +Instantly the air was filled with flying sponges.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +Towels, like dripping comets, passed and re-passed, +while Doc Cubberly came hobbling in, +threatening, imploring and dodging stray +missiles.</p> + +<p>Skippy, safe below the surface, watched this +bombardment swing over head, die out and +silence return. One by one his fellow prisoners +emerged, vociferous, hilarious, and passed +moist and voicing imprecations into the outer +region. Still Skippy continued gorgeously to +steam and doze.</p> + +<p>Then a sharp rat-tat-tat on the door.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bedelle?"</p> + +<p>"Hello, Doc!"</p> + +<p>"Time's up."</p> + +<p>"All right, almost dressed. Coming fast."</p> + +<p>The crucial moment had arrived, the tragic +end to all happiness below, that inevitable +moment when he must, by some supreme exercise +of the will, rise out of this blissful warmth +and stretch a reluctant arm through the chilly +air to let in the cold water. End of dreams +and chill return of reality! He temporized. +A second time Doc Cubberly's sliding step +arrived.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bedelle—Mr. Bee-delle!"</p> + +<p>"Just buttoning on my collar, Doc!"</p> + +<p>For the hundredth time, one foot slowly +emerged and five over-civilized toes sought in +vain to turn the round faucet labeled "Cold." +A hundred, yes a thousand times, he had attempted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +the apelike expedient before the final +mental determination to rise out of the warm +spell into the frigid air.</p> + +<p>"Gee, if I could only turn that with my foot," +he said. "Lord, what a cinch that would be!"</p> + +<p>He tried a last ineffectual time, jerked up +precipitately, shot out his arm, let in the cold +water and dodged back below the surface.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Birth of an Idea</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>TEN minutes later he sidled out of the bath +and, having balanced Doc Cubberly's Grand +Army hat on the gas jet, and simulated an +attack on Tippy, the black and tan, escaped before +the guardian of the bath could return to +the rescue of his pet.</div> + +<p>"All the same, you ought to be able to work +a bathtub with your foot," he said as he went +skipping towards the village with heightened +appetite. "Gee, that <i>would</i> be scrumptious!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly a queer thought came to him. +After all—why not? All you needed was a +foot regulator, to let in the hot and cold water +gorgeously, at your ease and inclination! Foot +regulators! Why not? There was something +in that idea surely.</p> + +<p>"Gee, what a cinch that <i>would</i> be!"</p> + +<p>If man in his age-old struggle with nature +could harness the force of steam to his service +and ride the air, why should he not be master +of his daily comforts?</p> + +<p>"I don't think a foot regulator would be so +ding fired hard to invent," he said, meditating.</p> + +<p>The idea had begun to work, though as yet +the vast scale had not opened to his tender imagination. +Now in youth when an idea begins<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +to grow it brings sharp animal appetites. To +contemplate properly this new entrancing +thought, he repaired to that first station on the +hunger route, which was known as Laloo's +Kennels, where fragrant hot dogs sent their +tantalizing invitation from bubbling tins.</p> + +<p>"Two ki-yis and easy on the mustard."</p> + +<p>Mr. Laloo prospered because Mr. Laloo dealt +on a strictly cash basis. He was languidly tired. +One foot rested on a soap box, one arm rested +on the upholstered divan he had exchanged +with the late Hickey Hicks for a hot dog a day +in the lean month of December, and his head +drooped over the supporting toothpick. Mr. +Laloo never made an unnecessary motion or +uttered a superfluous word. So he continued +without apparent notice to conserve the feeble +energy which ran low in his burnt-out eyes.</p> + +<p>Skippy looked at Laloo and understood. +Freshmen might argue but even the Tennessee +Shad wasted no time in producing the coin. +There was exactly ten cents in Skippy's pocket +after the most painstaking search revealed this +last ray of hope in the lining of the threadbare +pocket. Only ten cents to stop the deficit in his +stomach! The choice was difficult. There was +ginger-pop at Bill Appleby's, and jiggers at +Al's, pancakes at Conover's, and the aching +void within him knew no prejudice or limitations +to its hospitality. He hesitated, but the +fragrance in the air was maddening—besides<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +there was always the chance of a friend in +funds. He fingered the coin regretfully and +laid it on the counter with a heavy heart. He +might argue with Bill and plead with Al, but +Laloo had the soul of a pawnbroker.</p> + +<p>"There's the bank roll, pick out the fat +ones!"</p> + +<p>Five minutes later, with his nose buried in a +fragrant sandwich, elbows on the counter, he +returned to The Great Idea. Suddenly the +sublimity of the conception smote him. Think +of lolling languidly under the surface and regulating +the temperature at will with only the +exposure of a foot! Think of the gain to humanity +in the added daily comfort! The idea +was stupendous, colossal! It beat even Dink +Stover's famous Sleep Prolonger, the Alarm +Clock, which automatically closed the window +and opened the hot air register at the designated +hour. And out of the world, out of the +whole human race, present and past, he, John +C. Bedelle, was the first to stumble upon this +revolutionary fact! An accident? Perhaps—but +so was Galileo's discovery of the telescope +an accident. When the gnawing appetite had +been placated (somewhat placated, but not convinced), +the Skippy Bedelle who descended +Laloo's steps, with grave and thoughtful face, +had emerged from the warm skin of the urchin, +with the consciousness of manhood's call to +service.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Macnooder Opens Vistas</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>TO Skippy's credit be it recorded that the first +impulse was humanitarian. For the second +was distinctly mercenary. But then Skippy +lived in a materialistic age and Skippy's father +owned a department store. Yet the practical +and profitable possibilities did not proceed +from any inward contamination of the generous +impulse of invention, but from contact and suggestion. +At Bill Appleby's, where he wandered +in hungrily, in a desperate hope of meeting +some friend whose memory could be jogged by +reference to past favors, he perceived the celebrated +Doc Macnooder in earnest conclave with +Appleby, to whom he was offering to sell the +Lawrenceville rights of his latest invention, the +Folding Toothbrush. Given Bill Appleby's +natural canniness, and Macnooder's hypnotic +eloquence, the discussion was apt to be long +and difficult, so Skippy hovered at a respectable +distance with ears at attention.</div> + +<p>At this time, due to a rift in the lute (a little +matter of expert accounting on a joint operation), +the firm of Macnooder and the Tennessee +Shad had been dissolved and each financier had +assumed an independent and belligerent attitude. +The Shad had a certain adroit and devious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +imagination, but the practical mind was +Macnooder. His point of view was purely +economic. Hickey might plan the daring manœuvre +which made the conquest of the clapper +possible, and revel in the faculty's amazement +at the sudden silence of the tyrant will. Macnooder +would have proceeded to capitalize this +imagination by fabricating clapper watch +charms and selling them at auction prices. The +Gutter Pup might organize the sporting club in +memory of the lamented Marquis of Queensberry; +Macnooder sold the tickets and extinguished +the surplus. His ambition was not +to be a philosopher, or a benefactor. He announced +openly that he intended to be a millionaire, +and among his admiring victims there +was much speculation as to just how far he had +gone in the accomplishment of his heart's +ambition.</p> + +<p>When Skippy moved into an eavesdropping +position, the situation was this: Bill Appleby, +having carefully closed and locked the cash +drawer, was braced with both arms extended +against the counter, eyeing Macnooder with a +look of steely negation that expressed a settled +conviction to doubt instantly any statement +whenever or however made. Macnooder's +round capuchin body was drawn up in confidence +and ease and the smile on his face was +bland as he remarked:</p> + +<p>"Bill—get my proposition; let it percolate,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +sift down and settle. But, Bill, make no mistake. +The Macnooder Folding Toothbrush is +a fact—patented and financed! I'm not asking +you to take stock,—no, Bill, no." He +shook his head and said with friendly regret—"I +couldn't, Bill; not in fairness to myself—not +in fairness to my family. Why, Bill, if you +were to get in on the ground floor, you'd buy +a yacht in five years, live on Fifth Avenue and +marry Lillian Russell."</p> + +<p>"Go slow," said Appleby huskily, for Appleby +was a bachelor.</p> + +<p>"Well, watch <i>me</i>," said Macnooder with a +wave of his hand that played among the rubies +and emeralds floating in his imagination. "Bill, +I'd like to put you in—I can't—that's flat. +I can't! Why, Bill, if you put your hand in +your pocket this moment and took out that little +green wallet of yours and said: 'Mr. Macnooder, +this is your account—it's nothing—I +dismiss it, I tear it to pieces—you are my +guest from now on; let's start right;—what +will you have?' If you should say that—"</p> + +<p>"I won't!" said Appleby, shrinking from the +hypnotic caress in the financier's manner.</p> + +<p>"If you should do that <i>and</i> should take out +a nice new one hundred dollar bill—you have +one, Bill, right in that old leather wallet—don't +shrink, Bill, your alarm pains me—if +you, now, here in Lawrenceville, New Jersey, +John C. Green Foundation, should produce that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +one hundred dollar bill—slap it on the counter, +shove it into my face, force it into my pocket, +beg me to give you a little interest—<i>no!</i> No, +Bill, no! I'd refuse—I'd <i>have</i> to refuse. +Don't build up any false hopes, Bill, don't."</p> + +<p>"I won't," said Appleby, yet already a sense +of great personal loss had begun to invade +him.</p> + +<p>"All I can let you in on are the regional +rights—the Lawrenceville rights—for ten +years. I might, I don't say it flat,—I want to +consider,—but I <i>might</i> extend them to Princeton. +It's a gift, but I might. And do you know +why I'm giving you this opportunity of a lifetime?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Doc?"</p> + +<p>"Because, Bill, I don't want to break you. +I don't want to have to run you out of business. +That's friendship, but there's more. I can use +you," said Macnooder magnanimously. "You +have the qualities I shall need in my future +operations—I suffer from them now but I appreciate +them. You will make an ideal watchdog +of the dollar, and when the dollar leaves +your hand, Bill, there won't be a rim left to it. +Bill, let's do business—it's more than just +the toothbrush, it's a whole future's open to +you. Bill, the moment is yours. Choose! +Fifth Avenue, a yacht, box at the opera—Lillian +Russell!"</p> + +<p>Appleby fumbled in his pocket and drew out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +a cigar to break the spell, and the hand that +held the match trembled.</p> + +<p>"Wall, now," he began cautiously, "to-morrow's +to-morrow, and toothbrushes is +toothbrushes. And say—gettin' down to +tacks—who in Sam Hill ever wanted a folding +toothbrush, nohow?"</p> + +<p>Macnooder's fist descended on a shivering +glass counter as he cried triumphantly:</p> + +<p>"Say that again!"</p> + +<p>"Wall, who does want a folding toothbrush?" +said Appleby, in a more bellicose +manner.</p> + +<p>"Bill, your hand!" said Macnooder, matching +the gesture to the exclamation. "Straight +to the point. Keen—Gad, you're devilishly +keen! That's you, Bill, no one can beat you +at seeing the kernel at once! Who wants a folding +toothbrush? No one!" said Macnooder, +folding his arms and beaming with delight. +"Is there any reason any one should? There +is not. Can you imagine anything more unnecessary, +idiotic or useless than a folding +toothbrush? Don't try—you can't. That's +the beauty of it. But, Bill, make no mistake—that's +where you get the heterogeneous sucker! +Has there ever been a folding toothbrush! +Never! That's where they bite! Think of it—no +one's ever had one before. How do they +know whether they want one until they've tried +it? They've had a bicycle or a kodak, but a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +<i>folding toothbrush</i>, Bill—think what it means! +Get the sound of it. Why, Bill, it's sunk into +your imagination already! You've got the +hankering yourself. You have. I can feel it!"</p> + +<p>"Wall, now, I would sorter like a squint at +one."</p> + +<p>"And you shall," said Macnooder, reaching +into his pocket. But at this moment he stopped, +perceiving Skippy, who, lost in wonder, was +listening, all ears.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Doc, honest, I couldn't +help hearing," he said hastily.</p> + +<p>"This is a private conversation," said Macnooder +severely.</p> + +<p>"I say, Doc," said Skippy, gazing at the +package which had come forth from an inner +pocket, "I say, Doc, can't I just have one look +at it?"</p> + +<p>"You can <i>not</i>," said Macnooder, whose hand +indicated the exit in the classic gesture of melodrama +when the cruel father dismisses the +penniless lover.</p> + +<p>Skippy drew a long breath, hesitated and +went slowly out. But what a world had opened +before him! It was something to be a benefactor +of humanity, but why not tap the wealth +of the Incas! If the mere invention of a folding +toothbrush could open the sacred precincts +of Fifth Avenue, what realms beyond the +dreams of avarice were waiting for him who +should revolutionize the bathtub!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Loneliness of Great Men</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THE course of his meditations suddenly +halted before the Jigger Shop. They were +all there; the fortunate possessors of dimes and +nickels, gluttonously, selfishly gorging themselves +with juicy creamy strawberry, coffee, +and chocolate jiggers; clinking their glasses, +licking their spoons—and he, John C. Bedelle, +the future Bathtub King, without a cent in his +pockets! The irony of it! If they only knew, +what sycophants would fawn upon him! Then +an idea came to him—at such moments alone +can man read the secret heart of humanity. +He would make a test of true friendship.</div> + +<p>He passed through the outer rapturous fringe +of hungry boyhood and slowly approached the +counter where Al, guardian of the jigger, +dished out the jiggers and watched the counters +with uneasy eye. Not that he had any hope, +but it was only fair to give even the most +abandoned of mankind a sporting chance.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Al!"</p> + +<p>"I see you, Skippy."</p> + +<p>The tone was not encouraging. Bedelle determined +on direct methods. He turned his +pockets deliberately inside out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You see?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I see you."</p> + +<p>"Anything doin'?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing doin'," said Al, stroking his corn-colored +mustache with that languid finality +against which there was no appeal. "Nothin' +at all."</p> + +<p>"He has had his chance," said Bedelle to +himself in gloomy pride. Yes, Al had had his +chance, that one chance that comes unwittingly +to every man—Al who might have toured the +world with him as his majordomo, or his confidential +valet.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Dennis!" he said, perceiving back +of an enormous chocolate éclair the human anaconda +famine and opportunity had at this moment +made of Finnegan, the discoverer of the +double adjective.</p> + +<p>"Hello yourself!"</p> + +<p>"How's the bank account?" said Skippy +lightly, for etiquette forbade any reference to +the half-dollar parted with on the Wednesday +before.</p> + +<p>"Why, bless my immortal soul, you old +rambunctious, skipping Zockarooster, are you +setting them up?" said Brian de Boru, pretending +to misunderstand.</p> + +<p>Skippy disdained a reply. Al, after all, was +but running true to form, but this was the +basest ingratitude,—the serpent's tooth in the +fair landscape of friendship.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If he'd at least offered to share that éclair +I—I could—" said Skippy to himself, and +then stopped in silence before the future Finnegan +had thrown to the winds. For he liked +Dennis and Dennis <i>would</i> have made such an +ideal publicity man.</p> + +<p>He passed like a poor relation at a wedding +feast, and as he passed with many a stammered +hint, and eloquently pleading eyes, his faith in +his kind began to ooze away. Of course it was +the end of the month, yet of twenty friends who +had fed from his hand, when his hand had been +hospitable, not one stirred to the commonest of +human impulses. And so gloomy, alone and +misunderstood, like the young Napoleon at +Brienne, John C. Bedelle, with the consciousness +of future greatness, moved out from the +uncomprehending crowd. At the door Toots +Cortrelle arrived with unmistakably jingling +pockets, and seeing him, cried with the zest +of young hunger certain of gratification:</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Skippy, old sockbutts!"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't lend me a quarter or a dime, could +you?" said Skippy solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"You can, Toots—you can, honest?"</p> + +<p>"With ease and pleasure. This is the way +it is done," said Toots, who proceeded to transfer +a quarter from his pocket to the astounded +Skippy, with the classic manner of a prestidigitator.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's happened?" said Skippy, feeling +that the situation demanded some explanation.</p> + +<p>"Maiden aunt and birthday," said Toots joyfully. +"Al, take Mr. Bedelle's order and make +mine a triple jigger, coffee with chocolate +syrup!"</p> + +<p>When ten minutes later, gorged and sated, +with his faith in humanity somewhat restored, +Skippy separated from his benefactor, he +turned to Toots and said solemnly:</p> + +<p>"Old friend, I shall remember this!"</p> + +<p>"All right—turn about's fair play. Ta-ta +and so long," said Cortrelle, all unsuspecting +of the future Destiny had built up for him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, some day I <i>shall</i> remember," said +Skippy solemnly to himself. And as he trudged +back to his room at the Kennedy, there to map +out the future operations of the Bathtub Trust, +he allowed his imagination to dwell delightfully +on that momentous future date when the debt +of friendship should be paid. He saw himself +in a gorgeous marble-lined office, protected by +an outer fringe of obsequious secretaries, a box +of expensive cigars on his shining mahogany +desk, and before him in respectful attention +Toots Cortrelle, now grown a man, but worn +and wasted with the buffeting years, and he +saw the light of hope spurting upward in the +tired eyes as he heard himself saying:</p> + +<p>"Cortrelle, once long ago, you did something +I told you I should remember. You have forgotten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +it. I never forget. For that I am going +to put you in charge of my whole South American +trade at a salary—" Here Skippy paused +somewhat perplexed before continuing, awed at +his own munificence—"at a salary of over +<i>three thousand dollars</i> a year!"</p> + +<p>But just as Toots with tears in his eyes was +starting to grasp his hand, Skippy's foot +tripped over a step and he rolled ignominiously +down the terrace and fetched up in a heap +among the gravel.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please do it again!" said the voice of +Snorky Green from an upper window.</p> + +<p>"You go to blazes!" exclaimed Skippy, rising +wrathfully. But all at once his anger left +him. Snorky Green was his roommate and +partner of his secrets, and the secret that had +been locked up within him these last momentous +hours simply had to be told.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Golden Shower</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>TEN minutes later Snorky Green was standing +in a daze, one hand on an open Bible,—taken +for the occasion from the room of the +Pink Rabbit,—and gazing into the flushed +countenance of his roommate, who was saying:</div> + +<p>"Snorky, are you a Christian?"</p> + +<p>"Say, what do you—"</p> + +<p>"No matter—you believe in God!"</p> + +<p>"Sure I do."</p> + +<p>"Then swear!"</p> + +<p>"Swear what?"</p> + +<p>"Swear never to reveal to man, woman or +child what I am about to disclose to you."</p> + +<p>"I swear!"</p> + +<p>"As I am a Christian and believe in God."</p> + +<p>"As I am a Christian and believe in God."</p> + +<p>"And if I do may God strike with his afflictions +those I love best—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say—"</p> + +<p>"Say it."</p> + +<p>Snorky reluctantly subscribed to this terrible +oath and five minutes later the Secret was his.</p> + +<p>"Great Jehosophat!"</p> + +<p>"Do you see it?"</p> + +<p>"Do I see it?" Snorky tore from his throat +the collar that was stifling him. "My aunt's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +cat's pants!" he said solemnly. "Skippy, +we'll be billionaires!"</p> + +<p>"We'll buy a yacht and live on Fifth Avenue," +said Skippy, who for sentimental reasons +suppressed any reference to Lillian Russell.</p> + +<p>"Say this is so big we've got to take every +precaution," said Green, whose imagination +was on more practical lines. "No one must +even suspect until we've got this drawn up +and patented."</p> + +<p>"That's what worries me."</p> + +<p>Snorky Green cautiously opened the door +and investigated the hall, then returning +drew up his chair and said in a confidential +whisper:</p> + +<p>"Skippy, when this goes through every bathtub +in the country will go in the scrap heap. +Think of that!"</p> + +<p>"I have thought of that."</p> + +<p>"It'll do what the pneumatic tube did to the +bicycle."</p> + +<p>"What the trolley did to the horse-car!"</p> + +<p>"It's revolutionary."</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"Enormous!"</p> + +<p>"Stupendous!"</p> + +<p>They shook hands and Skippy, bursting with +happiness, said impulsively:</p> + +<p>"Old friend, whatever I make—you're +down for half."</p> + +<p>"No, no. Two-thirds to you—one-third to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +me," said Snorky, as Cæsar putting from him +the proffered crown.</p> + +<p>"I won't have it—share and share alike," +said Skippy in a rush of emotion.</p> + +<p>"But, Skippy, do you realize what even +one-third will mean!" said Snorky, in a voice +trembling with the vision of the future. +He went nervously to the desk and returned +with pad and pencil. "Write down these +figures."</p> + +<p>"Ought we to?"</p> + +<p>"We'll destroy it afterward. Put down +ninety-two million."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"The population of the United States."</p> + +<p>"I see—ninety-two it is."</p> + +<p>"Divide that by—by—well let's be conservative."</p> + +<p>"It's better."</p> + +<p>"Let's say there's one bathtub to every +fifty-five inhabitants."</p> + +<p>"I think that's too conservative."</p> + +<p>"We mustn't let our imagination run away +with us," said Snorky. "One in fifty and then +we're safe."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's say two million bathtubs," said +Skippy, who disliked figures, and felt the first +promptings of avarice.</p> + +<p>"So be it. Two million bathtubs and on +every tub our royalty!"</p> + +<p>"What'll we ask?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What do you suppose a bathtub averages!"</p> + +<p>"Say fifty dollars, at ten per cent,—that +would be five dollars coming to us."</p> + +<p>"Five dollars, but Skippy, isn't that exorbitant?"</p> + +<p>"You forget we'll be in a position to dictate."</p> + +<p>"Holy Maria!"</p> + +<p>Under 2,000,000 he wrote the figure five and +slowly noted the colossal result.</p> + +<p>"Do you realize what that means?"</p> + +<p>"It means ten million dollars!"</p> + +<p>"No, it means more than that—it means +that if the Bathtub Combine came to us to-day +and offered us a million dollars—it would be +suicide to accept it!"</p> + +<p>Skippy's eyes dilated with excitement. +Slowly he tore the sheet of paper in two.</p> + +<p>"Burn it—take no chances," said Snorky, +who proceeded to light a match.</p> + +<p>"And that's only the United States," said +Skippy in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"There's Canada and the British Empire!"</p> + +<p>"But Englishmen carry rubber tubs with +them."</p> + +<p>"They can be educated."</p> + +<p>"The French don't bathe," said Skippy +mournfully.</p> + +<p>"That'll come."</p> + +<p>"Holy cats, Rockefeller won't be in it!" said +Skippy, who was suffocating. "Snorky, what +I said goes! Money isn't everything. No—sentiment's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +bigger. Fifty-fifty, I said, and +fifty-fifty it stands!"</p> + +<p>"Then I'll put money into it," said Snorky, +offering his hand. "I'll go to my father. But +not now—not a word until we get the patent. +If any one gets the idea we're lost!"</p> + +<p>Skippy jumped at the sound of Butsy White's +elephantine descent of the stairs.</p> + +<p>"And Skippy," said Snorky Green, with a +sudden realization of a man's frailties, "whatever +you do—never tell a woman. You understand?"</p> + +<p>Skippy, whose relations with the opposite +sex were of the cat-and-dog variety, solemnly +raised his hand.</p> + +<p>"I swear."</p> + +<p>"Now to be practical. I say, Skippy, we do +have to invent the regulator, you know."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Methods of a Financier</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>WHEN, after a dream-ridden night, Skippy +started across the campus to morning +chapel, the urchin's wabble had gone from his +legs forever. He moved with firm and measured +tread, shoulders thrown back and head erect, +every inch a man, and his glance was set into +the future with proud recognition of his place +in the complex scheme of things. The imagination, +which returns after the sense of humor, +was still drowsy with the painful waking effort +in chapel, but as he proceeded to Memorial +Hall, the glittering future approached a little +nearer. Some day he, John C. Bedelle, would +return to the old school a patron and a benefactor!</div> + +<p>"They ought to have a gymnasium," he +thought, appraising the campus in a burst of +generosity. "I'll give it to them. I'll give +them a gym that'll beat anything hollow. I'll +give them the finest architect in the country. +I will! And when it's all built and ready to +dedicate—" But all at once as he started to +visualize himself before the applauding crowd +Snorky Green jogged his elbow:</p> + +<p>"Skippy—Gee, I've got it!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Sh—sh! You know—the invention! +Meet me in the room after first recitation. +Mum's the word!"</p> + +<p>A little unworthy feeling of jealousy came to +Skippy at this announcement; almost a feeling +of having been defrauded. Yet after all he had +only himself to blame. The temptation of the +future had beguiled him from the present necessity. +He slid into his seat, conveniently protected, +by the broad back of Tubby Banks, from +the searching gaze of Lucius Cassius Hopkins, +better known as the Roman, who presently +would number him among the flunked. Then +when the attack centered among the R's and +S's, across the room, he drew forth a pencil and +attacked the problem of a practical foot regulator. +But immediately the deplorable deficiency +of his education struck him. What preparation +had he for his life's vocation? Of +mathematics he knew absolutely nothing! The +priceless years had been squandered on mere +Latin, English prose, French verbs and the +vexing grammars.</p> + +<p>"I must have a scientific education," he said, +drawing rough outlines on the margin of +Cæsar's Gallic Wars. "How in the deuce am +I to begin? A foot's sort of different. Shall I +make it a button to press on or a sort of slipper +to push up and down?"</p> + +<p>There was a cut of the famous bridge across<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +the Rhine, but a hurried examination brought +him no comfort. He looked over at Snorky +across the aisles and Snorky winked back at +him in the triumph of achievement. Still if +Snorky was to share in the fabulous returns it +was only right that Snorky should contribute +to the practical details! The truth is that +Skippy in calmer mood had already begun +to regret the impulse of the day before. +Five million dollars after all was a good deal +to give away in a gesture, even to the chum +of chums!</p> + +<p>"What the deuce got into me?" he thought +gloomily. Until that moment the sinister corruption +of money had been foreign to his nature, +but all at once a change came to his outlook. +"Gee, even a third would have been a +<i>whale</i> of a sum!"</p> + +<p>He rose and flunked horribly in an attempt +to classify an ablative absolute and answered +"unprepared" when the Roman, maliciously +pressing his advantage, insisted on his translating. +Then with sulky dignity he strode to +the blackboards with the B's and C's and the +D's and flunked once more on the conjugation +of an irregular verb. What time was this for +trivial annoyances when his whole soul was rent +with the thought of the millions which he had +squandered for a moment's sentimental impulse! +He was not ashamed of that impulse, +no—but, all the same, Snorky, if he had had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +finer feelings, would never have abused his +generosity!</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" said the chum of +chums, when, recitations over, they had gained +the secrecy of their bedroom. "You look positively +bilious."</p> + +<p>"I didn't sleep much," said Skippy, eyeing +him with intuitive disfavor.</p> + +<p>"Well, for Heaven's sake brace up; you look +as though you'd swallowed a porcupine!"</p> + +<p>"All very well for you to cheer up," Skippy +thought to himself. It hurt, there was no turning +from it. It did hurt. What a blunder he +had made!</p> + +<p>"I could have hired him on a salary," he +thought gloomily. But of course now there +could be no backing out.</p> + +<p>"Well, now what have <i>you</i> worked out?" +said Snorky triumphantly.</p> + +<p>"I? My mind has been concentrating on the +business organization."</p> + +<p>"Gaze on this!" Snorky proudly brought +forth a diagram which to Skippy's bewildered +gaze looked like the cross section of a switch +yard. "Do you get it?"</p> + +<p>"What's this?"</p> + +<p>"That? Why that's the bathtub, you +chump."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't look like any bathtub."</p> + +<p>"You're in it, looking down—see, this is the +line of the water. Here's the hot and cold—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But this and that—"</p> + +<p>"That's your legs, of course. You're in the +tub looking south. Your legs stick out, don't +they, and these are the foot regulators—"</p> + +<p>"They look like feet."</p> + +<p>"They are feet—that is, your feet stick in +'em."</p> + +<p>"But how does it work?"</p> + +<p>Snorky produced another scrawl.</p> + +<p>"This is a cross section, you see. Works +both ways. This you work with your hands. +Then you turn it on here with this catch, +and your foot regulators come into play—see?"</p> + +<p>"It's awfully complicated."</p> + +<p>"Ought to be."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"'Cause if you just had an attachment to put +on the spigots, you mightn't get more than a +dollar a tub."</p> + +<p>"He's thinking of the money," thought +Skippy, darkly.</p> + +<p>"You don't seem enthusiastic."</p> + +<p>"No-o—."</p> + +<p>"I say, Skippy, you aren't natural," said +Snorky in alarm. "You don't look at me as +you used to. What is it? Out with it now."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Skippy slowly, "I said fifty-fifty +and I stick to it; fifty-fifty, because I am +a man of my word, but I do think there ought +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>to be some limit. . ."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, when Snorky's infectious +laugh had restored his sense of humor, Bedelle, +Incorporated took up the transaction of business +again,—the discussion of the profits having +by mutual consent been adjourned to a later +session.</p> + +<p>"Skippy, old top, I'm thinking we've got +to get expert advice," said Snorky after a +morning of fruitless discussion.</p> + +<p>"You mean—"</p> + +<p>"I mean Doc Macnooder or the Tennessee +Shad."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so, too. This is bigger than +us."</p> + +<p>"It's a hard choice."</p> + +<p>"It is—and we've got to be protected."</p> + +<p>"You bet we've got to be protected."</p> + +<p>"Well, if we must choose between Macnooder +and the Shad, which would you rather trust?"</p> + +<p>"Trust no one," said Snorky, finding it impossible +to establish this distinction. "And +say, Skippy,—oaths on the Bible are all right, +but if we're going to let Macnooder in on this +he's got to sign a paper."</p> + +<p>"You betcha!" said Skippy, with whom a +little of Bill Appleby's distrust remained. +"A paper's the thing!"</p> + +<p>That afternoon, after due ceremony, the door +was closed and locked and Doc Macnooder inducted +into an easy chair. Skippy producing +the Bible said firmly:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Doc, you've got to take the oath; never to +reveal to man, woman—"</p> + +<p>"But I'm a Unitarian," said Macnooder, +examining the St. James version.</p> + +<p>The point was debated and passed over. +Snorky then produced a formidable document +tied in green ribbons with large wax seals, +stamped with a cameo stick-pin.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to sign this, too."</p> + +<p>"Sign what?"</p> + +<p>Snorky read rapidly:</p> + +<p>"I, Doc Macnooder, in my third form year, +Lawrenceville, New Jersey, hereby testify that +on this date, the 12th day of April, 1896, the information +written on the back of the present +sheet of paper was communicated to me by +John C. Bedelle, the rightful and lawful inventor, +and the document does hereby establish +all his rights. Signed—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what's on the other side?" said +Macnooder, with rising curiosity.</p> + +<p>"That can only be communicated to you after +your signature."</p> + +<p>Macnooder was wary, but Macnooder was +inquisitive. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully +and considered.</p> + +<p>"Is Dink Stover in this, or the Tennessee +Shad?" he asked cautiously.</p> + +<p>"Not a soul besides us two has the slightest +suspicion."</p> + +<p>"All right then—I'll sign."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Skippy, you tell—" said Snorky Green +generously, "the glory is yours."</p> + +<p>"It's an invention that's got to do with a +bathtub, with all bathtubs," said Skippy, with a +sudden faintness of confidence before the professional +agnosticism which Macnooder, the man +of affairs, now assumed by crossing his legs and +donning a large horn-rimmed pair of spectacles.</p> + +<p>"The word is <i>bathtub</i>," said Macnooder, +who not to appear too eager dug a knife from +his pocket and carefully whittled at the end of +his pencil.</p> + +<p>"It's a foot regulator!"</p> + +<p>"Aha!" said Macnooder, who didn't understand +at all.</p> + +<p>"You see, Doc, what's the matter with all +the bathtubs of to-day," said Skippy, picking +up courage, "your head's at one end and the +faucets are at the other—and, that's an awful +distance!"</p> + +<p>"Good point!" said Macnooder, nodding.</p> + +<p>"Now when you want to let in the cold water +you've got to sit up, reach down and turn it on +and that's cold and chilly and drafty as the +mischief, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"That's a very strong point," said Macnooder, +who began to see.</p> + +<p>"Now, if you could only turn the faucets with +your toes, you could lie quietly under the hot +water, couldn't you?. . . But you can't—but +you could if you had foot regulators. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +isn't it the simplest thing in the world to have +foot regulators? Only no one has ever thought +of it before?"</p> + +<p>"Think what it would do to the bathtub industry, +Doc," said Snorky, who felt the preceding +explanation had failed properly to illuminate +the epochal quality of the invention. +"Why, Doc, we'd have 'em by the throat. +We'd put every bathtub out of existence. The +whole dinged system is fossilized and we'd +show 'em up with the first exhibit. Do you see +it, Doc? Do you get the possibilities?"</p> + +<p>"At first sound," said Macnooder, who kept +his glance on the end of his pencil, not to reveal +how much his imagination had been stirred, +"at first sound, it interests me strangely. +Skippy,—Mr. Bedelle, your hand, and my congratulations."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, Doc," said Skippy, with a lump +in his throat, "you really do believe in it, don't +you?"</p> + +<p>"My boy, there are gold mines in it," said +Macnooder, carefully, "the wealth of the Sultan +is nothing to it, or—or it isn't worth a +plugged nickel."</p> + +<p>Skippy and Snorky exchanged glances of +sudden dismay.</p> + +<p>"It's one or the other. That's what I will +find out."</p> + +<p>"How'll you do that?" said the roommates, +in a breath.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I shall write for catalogues first. I may +have to conduct a personal investigation at the +patent office—and of course I must look at all +possibilities. The idea is revolutionary," said +Macnooder, reviving their spirits. "Mr. Bedelle, +nothing can deprive you of that distinction +and glory. Your fame is secure. But the +bank account? Can we protect ourselves +against pirating? Can the Bathtub Combine +avoid in any way, shape or manner, being +forced to treat with the owners of the Bedelle +Foot Regulator? That's what I must carefully +consider. Gentlemen, one week from to-day +I promise you my answer."</p> + +<p>"Then you <i>will</i> take it up, Doc?"</p> + +<p>"If everything is all right we incorporate +Bedelle, patent the foot regulator, organize a +stock company, and I shall accept the posts of +President and Treasurer, with fifty-one per +cent of the stock."</p> + +<p>"Fifty-one per cent, Doc!"</p> + +<p>"My invariable terms. The responsibility +and the control must be mine. I don't ask +fifty-two per cent, or fifty-three per cent. I +ask only protection. Take it or leave it."</p> + +<p>Skippy gazed at Snorky, who pondered a +long while, but Macnooder's professional manner +sunk deep into their imaginations.</p> + +<p>"You don't trust us!" said Skippy sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"Business is business!" said Doc, pointing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +to the documents he had signed. "Did you +trust me?"</p> + +<p>"I sort of expected we'd all go cahoots," +said Skippy reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"Fifty-one per cent, gentlemen, or good +day," said Macnooder pompously.</p> + +<p>"Take it," said Snorky.</p> + +<p>Skippy drew a long breath. It had been a +day of disillusions. What millions had slipped +away! Truly the lot of the inventor was hard!</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Macnooder, rising and shooting +his cuffs. "Is it or is it not?"</p> + +<p>"It is," said Skippy heavily.</p> + +<p>"And now, gentlemen," said Macnooder +briskly, "I make no promises. I shall examine +the scheme ruthlessly, without sentiment or +prejudice—but perhaps, likewise who knows!—Gentlemen, +your hands, this moment may be +historic!"</p> + +<p>Caught by the sudden inspiration of how +history might some day look back to these +humble beginnings, with a common gesture they +rose and clasped hands.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Tragedy</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>BEDELLE, Incorporated! John C. Bedelle, +The Bathtub King! For a delicious week +Skippy sailed into the future on the magic carpet +of his imagination. He dreamed through +the long dull hours of recitations; he dreamed +when huddled in sweater he watched the scurrying +of the baseball candidates; he dreamed +over the prunes at breakfast and the prune +whip at night, and in his soft and delicious bed +he lay awake for hours planning out the disposal +of his future wealth.</div> + +<p>The week ended, as all weeks must. At precisely +five o'clock in the afternoon, with that +fine sense of ceremony that was his, Doc Macnooder +knocked at the door and entered.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Snorky Green and Skippy in +joyful chorus.</p> + +<p>"Your hats and follow me!" said Macnooder +in his best Dramatic Club manner.</p> + +<p>The tone sent a chill down their backs. +Silently, already prepared for the great catastrophe, +they filed across the campus, to the +Upper House. Not a word had been spoken.</p> + +<p>"We will now proceed to examine the Fourth +Form baths," said Macnooder, in the same +lugubrious voice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> + +<p>Utterly and instinctively without hope Skippy +clutched his roommate's arm and stumbled +down the stairs. Something was coming, something +that meant the end of all! Macnooder, +entering the first bathhouse, flung back the +door and pointed to the bathtub.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bedelle, there is your answer!"</p> + +<p>"Jerusalem, the faucets are in the middle!" +said Snorky, recoiling with a gasp.</p> + +<p>"The Bathtub Combine has us beat!" said +Macnooder. "If we patented the Foot Regulator +every bathtub in the country will have +the spigot fastened in the middle."</p> + +<p>"Why in Sam Hill didn't you think of that?" +said Snorky, turning indignantly on the inventor. +He kicked at the offending tub, scowled +at Skippy and deserted on the spot.</p> + +<p>"And this is the friend I'd have made a +millionaire!" said Skippy to himself in the +bitterness of his trial.</p> + +<p>"You see, Bo?" said Macnooder, descending +from his pedestal, as he perceived how the revelation +had crushed the younger imagination.</p> + +<p>"I see, Doc."</p> + +<p>"It's no use, is it?"</p> + +<p>"No,—damn 'em, they've got us beat!"</p> + +<p>"Now, old sport," said Macnooder kindly, +"don't mope about it. Your ideas are all right +and I'm here to keep you practical. Better +luck next time, but be sure and come to me."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Doc," said Skippy, through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +whose dimmed eyes the fatal bathtub seemed +to advance like a juggernaut. He escaped and +went dizzily across the Campus and sat on the +steps of Memorial Hall, gazing out gloomily +at the dotted recreation fields. The great Bedelle +gymnasium, which but yesterday was outlined +in splendor against the sky, was now +cinders and dust, Fifth Avenue further off than +Africa, and as for Lillian Russell—</p> + +<p>"Looking all over for you, Skippy," said a +familiar voice.</p> + +<p>Before him stood Toots Cortrelle.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you," he said heavily.</p> + +<p>"Are you flush? I thought if you were—that +quarter you know—you said—"</p> + +<p>"I said I should remember," said Skippy, +with a hollow laugh. There was just twenty +cents in his pockets that an hour ago had been +heavy with millions. He drew out two dimes +and tendered them.</p> + +<p>"Here's the best I can do, Toots. I'll try +to get that other nickel to you to-morrow."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">When Friends Prove False</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>COMMONPLACE minds are crushed by defeat; +great imaginations rise to profit. +Ten days after Skippy Bedelle had seen the +gilded fabric of his future greatness collapse +with the failure of the Foot Regulator to revolutionize +the bathtub industry the spirit of invention +had risen triumphantly from the ashes +of first disillusionment. After all, there were +other services to render to humanity, and the +mind that at the age of fifteen could have reasoned +so brilliantly in theory must inevitably +express itself with profit to the race and to his +own individual bank account.</div> + +<p>At first Skippy's depression had been profound, +and as the sensation was new he enjoyed +its sensual charm to the fullest. He discarded +the jaunty cap for a slouch hat which +he pulled down over his eyes; he selected the +soberest of neckwear, turned up his collar, sank +his fists in his pockets, and spent solitary afternoons +among the ruins of the Carthage of his +imagination, seated on the site of what would +never be the John C. Bedelle Gymnasium. Even +the spectacle of Cap Keafer knocking out a +home run in the ninth inning brought him no +rapturous exultation. He was akin to <i>Ivanhoe</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +the disinherited knight, and <i>Athos</i> of the brooding +sorrows. The world had receded from him, +and nobody cared or noticed. He was alone, +misunderstood, without a friend in the world. +For after what had happened he could never +again feel the same towards that basest of ingrates, +Snorky Green.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The evening after the collapse of the Bedelle +Foot Regulator, Incorporated, there had been +a short and exceedingly painful interview.</p> + +<p>"Well, Skippy, old top," said Snorky, who +was genuinely contrite and ready to make the +advance, "that certainly was hard luck. I feel +just as bad as—" Here he stopped before the +sudden majestic indignation which confronted +him.</p> + +<p>"Green!" said Skippy, frowning.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say—"</p> + +<p>"Green, when you thought I was going to be +a rich man," continued Skippy icily, "there +was nothing you wouldn't do for me. You +fawned on me. But when I had to face defeat—at +the first test—you deserted me with +sneers and gibes. That is not friendship. +Green, you are not capable of true friendship, +and you have proved it. I shall never forget +and I shall never forgive!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, shucks, Skippy!" said Snorky. "What's +the use of rubbin' it in? I'm not as bad as all +that!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Green," said Skippy, working himself into +the scene which he had rehearsed a dozen times +as he had long debated whether to address the +offender as Mr. Green, "Green, we will have to +go on rooming together but I wish you to understand +that nothing you can ever do or say will +change my feelings now towards you. Nothing! +Whatever communication is necessary from +now on between us, will be in <i>writing</i>—"</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"In writing," said Skippy firmly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, if that's the way you're going to +take it you can go to blazes!" said Snorky +wrathfully. "But before you climb on your +high horse, suppose you restore my red choker +tie, my agate cuff buttons, my silver-rimmed +fountain pen and a few pairs of fancy socks—"</p> + +<p>"<i>This</i> is unworthy of even you," said Skippy, +who rose and with a perfect social manner took +the articles in question from the bureau on the +south side of the room and gingerly placed them +on the bureau in the western corner. "The +socks are in the wash. I prefer to return them +as I received them." After which he disrobed +and, somewhat consoled, watched from the +coverlets the indignant and bewildered Snorky +Green sitting on his bedside, halfway out of his +trousers, glaring at him in rage.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>For a week, a miserable, lonely week, Skippy +held to this irreconcilable attitude. During<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +this time he touched the bottom of depression—he +even doubted himself! Would he ever invent +anything again? Had it been just a flash +in the pan? Was it all a false start? What had +become of the imagination which had blazed up +so brilliantly? Perhaps after all he was no +different from the rest—just an average mind +fit only for such vulgar things as banking and +trade. Then one morning through the gloom +clouds a sudden shaft of sunlight arrived. He +had another idea!</p> + +<p>He had been lolling deliciously in bed, disdaining +to notice the first harsh summons to +rise, and his mind had dwelt enviously on the +brilliant figure of Doc Macnooder. After all, +even Doc Macnooder had his failures. There +was the matter of the Folding Toothbrush, +which all Macnooder's eloquence had failed to +market with Bill Appleby.</p> + +<p>"Jingo! That certainly was a bum idea," he +said to himself, somewhat comforted. "You +might do something with a toothbrush, but a +folding one is a joke!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>All at once he sprang out of bed and, reaching +the washstand in a bound, seized the nearest +tooth mug. Snorky, who, despite the present +unpleasantness, still trusted his rising instincts, +catapulted out of bed and arrived three +seconds later at his side of the washstand, +where through still foggy eyes he beheld Skippy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +gazing at a toothbrush which he held reverently +before him as a jeweler examines a named +stone.</p> + +<p>"What the deuce?"</p> + +<p>"Dinged if I haven't got Macnooder beat +a mile!" exclaimed Skippy, who in the first exhilaration +of discovery had completely forgotten +the correspondence acquaintanceship he +had imposed.</p> + +<p>"It's about a toothbrush!" said Snorky with +great intelligence.</p> + +<p>"You bet it's about a toothbrush." But here +Skippy suddenly remembered, and the smile +gave place to a frown.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, Skippy! Let's call it off," said +Snorky in a rush of feeling. "It was dead +rotten of me and I'm doggone sorry—honest, +I am—but you've rubbed it in enough."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I forgive you and I shall try to +forget," said Skippy, who also had chafed +under the long silence.</p> + +<p>"What's the great idea?" said Snorky hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"The great idea is a <i>Souvenir</i> Toothbrush," +said Skippy proudly.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The idea did not reach Snorky immediately, +but he was too diplomatic to show his disappointment, +so he said humbly:</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's because I'm a dumb-head, +but why a souvenir toothbrush?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why a souvenir pillow-case? Why a souvenir +buttonhook or a souvenir bootjack or a +footstool, necktie, lap robe, or anything souvenir?"</p> + +<p>"All right, why?" said Snorky, who felt hurt +at this assumption of intellectual superiority.</p> + +<p>"The bootjack doesn't make the souvenir; +it's the souvenir makes the bootjack, doesn't +it?" said Skippy, who was thinking deeply.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Snorky had never heard of the Socratian +method, but he was impressed; so not understanding, +he nodded and answered:</p> + +<p>"Aha, I see!"</p> + +<p>"It's the thing you souvenir that's important. +If you want to remember you can't +remember too often."</p> + +<p>"No-o."</p> + +<p>"And how can you remember better than the +first crack out of bed—"</p> + +<p>"I get all that," said Snorky, acknowledging +the brilliancy of the argument. "But how the +dickens can you make a souvenir out of a toothbrush?"</p> + +<p>"My boy—my boy!" said Skippy with +crushing contempt. "Have you no imagination? +A souvenir toothbrush! Why, easy! +Make the handle in the shape of a baseball bat +and put the Lawrenceville-Andover score on +the back—red and black."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be jiggswiggered!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You can make 'em in the form of a riding +crop for racing sports, masts for yachtsmen, +sword-blades for the army. Why, it's a cinch! +You can have Lawrenceville shields on the +back, Princeton colors, Yale colors. You can +do anything, anything with the idea—you can +have your best girl's initials, or you can have +her photograph stenciled on!"</p> + +<p>"Sure thing! Why not Mother or Auntie—'when +this you see remember to use me!'" said +Snorky, who feared where another flight of the +imagination might transport his roommate.</p> + +<p>"Green!" said Skippy, flaring up at this +destructive levity; but before he could deliver +his broadside the breakfast gong began to rock +the house and simultaneously each head ducked +into a waiting basin.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When Skippy during the relaxation of the +morning recitations considered the Souvenir +Toothbrush he was not so favorably impressed. +Snorky's suggestion somehow threw a touch of +ridicule over the whole proposition and Skippy, +like all true imaginations, shrank from ridicule. +Undoubtedly if the Souvenir Toothbrush became +a fact, mothers and governesses <i>would</i> abuse its +opportunities. Think of a parental eye gazing +admonishingly at you from the back of a toothbrush +every morning! Why, the name of Bedelle +might become an execration! He saw +himself pilloried among the oppressors of boykind,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +as unpopular as the compiler of a Latin +grammar or the accursed Euclid! No, the idea +was unthinkable! Skippy did not reject the +Souvenir Toothbrush <i>in toto</i>. He bought a +blank book on which he inscribed:</p> + +<div class='center'> +INVENTIONS<br /> +<span class="smcap">John C. Bedelle</span><br /> +1896<br /> +</div> + +<p>On the first page under the day of the month +he wrote a full description, adding:</p> + +<div class='center'>FIELD LIMITED<br /> +<i>Suggestion—Hold until later date and patent anonymously.</i></div> + +<p>Skippy then reluctantly admitted the destructive +force of Snorky Green's criticism of +the Souvenir Toothbrush; he admitted it, but +he could not forgive him for being right. There +are certain things which one does not forgive +a brother, a sister, or the chum of chums.</p> + +<p>After all, was Snorky Green worthy of that +privileged and exalted position? A disturbing +doubt began to creep into Skippy's imagination. +He passed over the treachery in the +matter of the now defunct Bedelle Foot Regulator; +that might conceivably have been the +fault of an inferior temperament. It was the +spirit of negative criticism, the settled habit +of turning into raillery the fragile first impulses +of his inventive imagination, that was +alarming.</p> + +<p>"Gee! If every time I get a big idea, he's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +going to knock it in the head, what's the use +of having an imagination?" he said gloomily.</p> + +<p>After all, could a creative temperament yoke +itself to a destructive criticism without self-immolation? +Immersed in these brooding forebodings, +he came heavily up the Dickinson +stairs to the communal room. Suddenly he +stopped, amazed.</p> + +<p>"What the deuce!"</p> + +<p>On his bureau a flaming bit of color greeted +him from the somber mass of his pendent +neckties. He advanced and recognized Snorky +Green's red choker tie, which was particularly +dear to his young sartorial fancy. On the pin +cushion lay the agate cuff buttons and the +silver-rimmed fountain pen. He opened the +top drawer and beheld three pair of open-work +socks, red, orange and glowing green.</p> + +<p>"Gee, how crude!" he said indignantly.</p> + +<p>At another moment and in another mood his +heart might have softened at this evident peace-offering; +but this afternoon, with the new child +of his imagination slain by Snorky Green's +brutal wit, the whole proceeding was undeniably +crude, a bribe too openly offered. He would +have to return them; that was inevitable and +that was of course the last thing he wished to +do. He sat down at his desk, scowling horribly, +and then, moved by a fitting inspiration, he +seized his pen and dashed off the most frigid +and properly insulting of notes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +To Arthur E. Green. Goods Returned.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">1 Fountain Pen.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">1 Pair of Agate Cuff Buttons.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">1 Choker Tie (red).</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">3 Pair of Socks.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kindly acknowledge receipt,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">Bedelle.</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>The last he considered such a master stroke +that, his good humor restored by the anticipation +of the infuriating effect on his beloved +friend, he began to whistle a triumphant strain. +He made a neat package, pinned the ultimatum +on it, and proceeded to the opposite bureau.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be teetotally jiggswiggered," he +said, astounded.</p> + +<p>In the oval of the glass, a new photograph +had appeared in the company of the three other +smiling feminine beauties which Snorky Green, +as a man of the world, displayed by implied +right of conquest. Skippy set down his package +and craned forward for a closer examination.</p> + +<p>"Huh! Old enough to be his grandmother," +he said contemptuously, staring at the new +victim of Snorky Green's charms.</p> + +<p>But at this moment, hearing a familiar step +in the hall, he bounded back in time to assume +a nonchalant, bored attitude as Snorky came +joyfully in, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"Hello, old sporting life! What do you know +to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Green," said Skippy, drawing himself up +and extending an elocutionary finger towards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +the bureau, "you will find something to interest +you there."</p> + +<p>He waited a moment outside in the hall until +Snorky's bursting imprecation brought the +needed consolation, and then tripped down the +steps, seeking a calming jigger.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Snorky as a Lady-killer</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'><i>L'AMOUR a des raisons que la raison connait +pas</i>," say the French, who ought to know, +and the first expansive sentimental affection of +a boy for a chum has also its illogical quality. +Now, Skippy adored Snorky and the affection +was returned. He felt that Snorky would die +for him, as of course he would lay down his +own life for his friend, if they should ever +hunt together in African jungles. He was willing +to share Snorky's last dime, keep his confidences, +and fight shoulder to shoulder. He +admired, he respected, he loved Snorky, but +for the life of him he could not see wherein +Snorky Green's peculiar brand of beauty should +appeal to the young feminine eye any more +than his own lank frame and sharpened features. +Why should Snorky's glass present four +lovely and adoring feminine faces, while his +own should give back only a pointed nose +around which the orange freckles swarmed like +flies? True, the lady-killer's wardrobe was of +a magnificence which outshone his, but then +socks and neckties and cuff-button jewelry are +communal possessions.</div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Why should Snorky Green then inspire such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +passions while he passed lonely and unloved? +No, certainly Snorky was not beautiful. He +had a smudgy, stubby little nose. He was lop-eared +and the dank yellow hair fell about his +puffy eyes in straight, unrippling shocks. Yet +four women (three blondes and a brunette) +watched with affectionate glances the progress +of his casual morning toilette. Why?</p> + +<p>The next morning, as Skippy reluctantly rose +and gazed upon the feminine galaxy waiting at +the bureau that was not his, the sense of his own +inferiority again smote him. Envy is the corrupting +cancer of friendship. He did like +Snorky. He yearned for the life-and-death devotion +of a chum of chums; a sort of Damon +and Pythias, D'Artagnan and Athos affair—but, +while this sense of inferiority continued, +the shadow was over the fair sunlit landscape +of impulsive friendship. It was so, and the feeling +would not down.</p> + +<p>That evening, being alone, he stood again +contemplating the evidence of Snorky Green's +predatory progress among the ladies. He examined +the four photographs carefully.</p> + +<p>"They can't all be sisters," he said gloomily; +besides, he knew that his roommate, more fortunate +than he, had to bear but one such cross. +"Danged if I can see what gets them. If that +fellow's a lady charmer, I'll hire out for a +matinée idol!"</p> + +<p>On the pin cushion was a pin in the shape of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +an arrow (an arrow of course suggested a +transpierced heart), which Snorky wore for +important ceremonies, when he donned a perpendicular +collar and a white coaching tie. On +the wall was a Farmington banner and on the +sofa five pillows worked by loving feminine +hands.</p> + +<p>"Sisters never go to that trouble," said +Skippy, secure in his knowledge of sister nature. +"By the great horned spoon this can't +go on. I've either got to lick the stuffin's out +of him or—"</p> + +<p>Without finishing his phrase, he went to the +table, drew forth Cæsar's "Gallic Wars," and +a copy of "Lorna Doone" and immediately +began to concentrate. A moment later Snorky +Green arrived chuckling from a foray down the +hall where he had just deposited a moth ball in +the lamp chimney of Beckstein, the Midnight +Poler. He came in rollicking and triumphant, +slamming and locking the door against a +sudden reprisal. Then, seeing Skippy, he +stiffened, scowled, and assumed an air of +frigid dignity. Skippy, with his eye on a convenient +mirror, followed his movements expectantly.</p> + +<p>Snorky, having glared sufficiently at the unresponsive +back of his roommate, planted himself +in front of him and said angrily:</p> + +<p>"Say, what in tarnation is biting you, anyhow?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>Part of the pleasure which Skippy derived +from his periodic application of ostracism was +in the immediate success it achieved on his +roommate's impressionable temperament. At +present, being in an exceedingly grouchy mood, +he drew forth a pad and pencil and tendered +them with a plain intimation that only thus +would he receive any communications.</p> + +<p>"What are you sore about?" said Snorky, +flaring up at once. "Just because I took a +crack at your old Souvenir Toothbrush? Is +that it?"</p> + +<p>Skippy drew forth a handy literal translation +and ostensibly began to apply it to the baffling +text.</p> + +<p>"My lord, you act like a sick girl! You're +a pleasant roommate, you are! How long are +you going to sulk like this?"</p> + +<p>Skippy began to whistle softly to himself:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"You can't play in my backyard;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I don't love you any more."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Whereupon Snorky, having slammed a book +on the table, advanced with doubled fists, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"You stop that, do you hear! You stop that +or—or—I'll—"</p> + +<p>Skippy, whose calm was delightfully reinforced +by this show of temper, again, but without +looking up, indicated the pad and pencil.</p> + +<p>"I can lick you!" said Snorky hoarsely.</p> + +<p>This was too much. Skippy sprang up, fists<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +ready, and glowered his defiance. For a long +moment they held this bellicose attitude, a +collision imminent. But a resort to primitive +methods is a serious affair between roommates. +Each hesitated, seeking a dignified evasion of +the crisis.</p> + +<p>"Well, go on with your baby act, if you enjoy +it," said Snorky scornfully. "Lord, I'd hate +to have your disposition!"</p> + +<p>The status quo having been restored, Skippy +discarded Cæsar's "Gallic Perplexities" and +returned to boyhood's first heroine, while +Snorky in a rage retreated to his side of the +room and pondered.</p> + +<p>"I certainly riled him that time," said Skippy +joyfully to himself. "Wonder what he'll do +now?"</p> + +<p>After a few moments Snorky began to +whistle, meditating to himself, which in boyhood +is always a signal that the imagination is +working.</p> + +<p>"What's the big idea now?" said Skippy, +following from the corner of his eye.</p> + +<p>Snorky rose briskly and, repairing to his +closet, disappeared on all fours. A moment +later he returned, with a box of large and juicy +chocolate éclairs and a bottle of ginger pop, +and, establishing himself at the opposite end +of the table, began to enjoy himself audibly.</p> + +<p>"The low-down hound!" said Skippy, writhing +on his seat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>In his calculations, he had completely forgotten +the purchase of the afternoon. In turn +he rose, delved into the débris of his closet and, +returning, spread before his end of the table +one tin of deviled turkey (Snorky's favorite), +a large piece of American cheese and a bottle +of root beer.</p> + +<p>It had now become a battle of wits, with each +resolved to impress the other with the delicious +satisfaction that he was experiencing and each +gazing from time to time at a point directly +above the other's head. There were six éclairs. +Snorky ate four rapidly, licking his fingers with +gusto after each.</p> + +<p>Then he ate the fifth éclair more slowly and +with some effort. Despite all his self-control +Skippy's gaze could not turn from that last-surviving +member of the chocolate family. He +was suffering tortures, but suffering under a +calm and smiling exterior.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" said Snorky suddenly, talking to +himself. "I almost forgot."</p> + +<p>He rose and left the room to Skippy and the +sixth éclair. Tantalus, amid his parched seeking +of a cooling draught, never suffered more +anguish than Skippy sitting there before that +undefended éclair, with only a gesture intervening.</p> + +<p>"Of all the mean, dirty, contemptible tricks!" +he said angrily between his teeth, revolting at +this most treacherous trap. For he must not,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +he could not, no matter what the pain he must +endure, admit defeat by falling on that éclair. +He rose and went to the window. Certainly he +had been mistaken in Snorky; no one who would +carry a quarrel to such fiendish lengths had the +largeness of spirit that he had the right to demand +in a chum.</p> + +<p>When Snorky returned, he glanced in some +surprise at the untouched éclair. Then he lifted +it gingerly, examined it closely to see if it contained +any foreign corrupting matter, and, his +appetite restored by the lapse of time, ate it +with smacking relish.</p> + +<p>Skippy, crouched in his chair, ground his +teeth and tried to shut out the tantalizing +sounds. Snorky began to hum gaily to himself. +Then, proceeding across the direct line of his +roommate's vision, he took up the latest photograph +and contemplated it with a little exaggerated +rapture. It was the last straw. +Skippy's rage burst forth in a loud and insulting +guffaw.</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>Snorky, to whom the advantage of the situation +was now apparent, took up each photograph +in turn and smiled with the pardonable +pride of one who knows his own worth.</p> + +<p>The next moment two books went flying +across the room, and Skippy, now thoroughly +infuriated, stood before him, arms akimbo, a +sneer on his disgusted lips.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't let me stop you. Go on, kiss it, fondle +it. Put it under your pillow and hug it, you +great big mooncalf! Say, why do you come to +Lawrenceville, anyhow? Why don't you go to +Ogontz or Dobbs Ferry?"</p> + +<p>Then Snorky, tasting the sweets of revenge, +went to the table and, picking up the pad and +pencil, presented them to Skippy with a mocking +bow.</p> + +<p>Skippy's reply is not to be found even in the +most up-to-date dictionaries. Furious at his +roommate, the world in general, and himself +most of all, he shed his clothes and dived into +bed.</p> + +<p>"Girls—faugh!" he exclaimed in disgust +And, pulling the covers over his head, he retired +to his own ruminations.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Love Lightly Considered</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>TO understand what Skippy felt one must +have known the springs of boyhood's impulse +towards perfect manhood.</div> + +<p>To Skippy a man was that completed being, +who wore trousers that never bagged at the +knees, neckties that never slipped below the +collar button, who displayed a gold watch-chain +across a fancy vest, from whose lower lip a +cigarette was pendent, who possessed a latchkey +and the right to read far into the night, and +who shaved once a day. The sentimental complications +had escaped him. Whatever attracted +man to the frizzled, giggling, smirking, +smiling bipeds in shirts remained a mystery to +Skippy.</p> + +<p>All at once he had to face this problem. He +had gone resolutely up the steps towards perfect +manhood. He had learned the art of pressing +trousers to a thin razor-edge from Snorky, +who was a year his senior in boarding-school +knowledge.</p> + +<p>The necktie question was not yet settled, +though every morning he subjected his throat +to a strangle-hold.</p> + +<p>He had bought a razor and twice a week, +trembling and apprehensive, drew it across his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +maidenly cheek. He slashed himself fearfully +but he did not mind that. He wore his scars +proudly, a warning to all that adolescence was +on him, as the young Heidelberg student flaunts +his wounds.</p> + +<p>The cigarette (known as the Demon Cigarette, +the Filthy Weed, and the Coffin Nail) +had been a dreadful struggle. But he had won +out.</p> + +<p>He loathed the Demon Cigarette as he abhorred +tobacco in any form, but he had martyrized +himself until he was able to puff up the +cold-air flue in the stilly reaches of the night +without having to grope his way back to the +bed and watch the room careen about him. He +did not inhale, but he had learned to imitate the +process so as to defy detection, as he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Gee! It's good to fill the old lungs, isn't +it?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>These things, by dint of concentration and +courage, Skippy had achieved, not to stand +ashamed in the eyes of his roommate. And, +having with pain and perseverance traveled +this far, he suddenly, this night, realized how +much was still lacking.</p> + +<p>Yes, there was certainly something lacking +in his progress towards perfect manhood, something +that Snorky had and he had not.</p> + +<p>It was all very well to be a man, to smoke, to +shave, and to have acquired the sartorial evidence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +This was all very well—but others +must perceive it, too! This was the point. As +Snorky had done, he must do.</p> + +<p>The new world to conquer was the feminine +heart.</p> + +<p>Now, Skippy had not at this moment the +slightest inclination towards the lovelier sex.</p> + +<p>He did not aspire to be a Don Juan or a Beau +Brummel, but if he were to continue to room +with Snorky Green he must acquire at least the +appearance. He perceived this. It pained him +that in the scheme of things it should be so—but +a reputation he must have.</p> + +<p>"Girls, girls! Lord, how I loathe them!" +he said in a last farewell to his male independence. +"What I think of a fellow who +hangs around them, wears their rings and pins +and carries off their handkerchiefs! But I'll +be danged if I can stand any more of this conquering-hero +stuff from that eyesore across the +room! If it's got to be done, you bet I'll do it! +I'll put it over that four-flusher, if I have to +fuss every girl in Scranton!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Demon of Jealousy</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THE Easter vacation was ended and four +hundred overfed, underslept boys had returned +to spread the germs of measles, mumps +and tonsilitis among their fellows. Skippy and +Snorky, having fallen hilariously into each +other's arms, were proceeding with the important +ceremony of the unpacking, while surveying +each other with a critical eye.</div> + +<p>"Seems to me you look quite spruced up," +said Snorky when, to be more at his ease, +Skippy had shed his coat and stood revealed +in all the splendor of a flaming-yellow buckskin +vest, with gleaming brass buttons; then +noting the display of jewelry in the red and +yellow tie, he added: "Where did you get the +fancy stuff?"</p> + +<p>Skippy removed his scarf-pin and gazed languidly +at the delicate garland of forget-me-nots. +Then he yawned and said:</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you about her some day."</p> + +<p>Snorky sat down on his best derby. "My +aunt's cat's pants! Have I lived to see it?"</p> + +<p>"See what?" said Skippy loftily.</p> + +<p>"You a fusser! Skippy Bedelle wearing a +girl's pin! Fan me quick!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Just because I haven't boasted about my +conquests—" said Skippy, and he brought +forth a little bundle carefully wrapped in a +green <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'bandanna'">bandana</ins> handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" said Snorky faintly.</p> + +<p>From beneath the protecting folds of the +handkerchief appeared a white satin frame +with hand-painted violets rampant. Out of the +violets gazed an adoring pair of eyes.</p> + +<p>"Is that her?" said Snorky.</p> + +<p>"Lord, no! This is only Margot," said +Skippy, who inhaled the fragrance and offered +the same opportunity to his chum. "Rather +delicate, eh, what?"</p> + +<p>"Smells like patchouli," said Snorky, beginning +to recover.</p> + +<p>"Patchouli? Margot? Say, what kind of +females do you play around with? My girls +drive their own four-in-hands and wear pearls +for breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ex-cuse me!" said Snorky with a mocking +courtesy.</p> + +<p>Skippy brought forth a second photograph +and placed it on the bureau, and then a third. +Snorky, who had begun to sulk, feigned indifference +and proceeded to range <i>his</i> trophies on +the bureau.</p> + +<p>"This'll cheer up the window seat a bit," +said Skippy in the same casual tone.</p> + +<p>Snorky's head appeared above the trunk long +enough to watch Skippy with his arms full of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +pillows, lace and sweet-scented, scatter them +with a nonchalant gesture. But when, continuing +his manœuvres, Skippy in the new revelation +produced three banners emblazoned with the +insignia of feminine schools, Snorky capitulated +to his curiosity and, advancing to the +bureau, stood in open-mouthed wonder.</p> + +<p>"I'll be jiggswiggered! Holy cats and Aunt +Jemima! I never would have believed it!"</p> + +<p>Skippy brought out a fan, spread it, and +pinned it affectionately above the photograph +gallery.</p> + +<p>"I guess that'll hold him," he said to himself. +"Poor old Snorky! I hope his heart is +strong enough."</p> + +<p>"Been doing quite a bit of fussing yourself," +said Snorky with a new respect. "Why didn't +you ever tell a fellow?"</p> + +<p>"I never discuss women," said Skippy, dusting +off the fourth photograph.</p> + +<p>"You must have gone the pace," said Snorky +in wonder.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I looked them over quite a bit."</p> + +<p>"But, my lord, Skippy! You can't have +loved all of them!"</p> + +<p>"Just collecting souvenirs."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As a crowning touch, a climax long imagined, +plotted and hilariously enjoyed in prospect, he +next produced, before the bewildered eyes of +Snorky Green, what in school-day parlance is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +known as a Trophy of Trophies; an incredible, +amazing, inexplicable thing, a tasseled, beribboned, +pink and white bed cap! Snorky made +a feeble gesture or two and then lay down to +signify that the shock had killed him.</p> + +<p>"Skippy! What does that mean?"</p> + +<p>"This also is a thing I cannot discuss," said +Skippy, whose fondest imaginings were outdone +by reality.</p> + +<p>"Any more?" said Snorky, struggling weakly +upward.</p> + +<p>"That's all," said Skippy, who was gazing +contentedly at the imposing collection. But +all at once he reflected: "Hello, where in the +deuce did I put her?"</p> + +<p>He pretended to search through his trunk +and valise in great concern until, Snorky's curiosity +having been properly awakened, he suddenly +struck his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Of course. How silly of me!"</p> + +<p>And diving into his inner pocket he brought +forth a last tribute, encased in neat pink morocco, +which he arranged in the unmistakable +position of honor.</p> + +<p>Snorky approached on tenterhooks. The +next moment he burst out: "Mimi!"</p> + +<p>"What, you know her!" said Skippy, surprised +in turn. "Rather cute little thing."</p> + +<p>"Look!"</p> + +<p>On Snorky's bureau in the same place of +honor was an identical photograph, a little Japanese<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +brunette, with a descending puff and an +ascending nose. They stood staring at each +other, and the temperature of the room seemed +to recede towards the freezing point.</p> + +<p>"When did you meet her? How long have +you known her, and how the deuce did you +get her photo?" said Snorky, with blazing +eyes.</p> + +<p>Skippy was in a quandary. A false step +might tumble about him the glorious fabric of +his new reputation. He went to his bureau and +thoughtfully considered the pink morocco case +stolen from his sister's collection. Revenge +had been sweet, yet the impulse was still on +him. He decided that a quick conquest would +be the more galling to a rival's pride.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we waltzed about a bit, but I gave her +an awful rush."</p> + +<p>Snorky went and sat down in a corner, elbows +on his knees, his chin in his hands. Seeing thus +the wreck he had caused, Skippy began to be +troubled by his conscience. Suppose it really +was a serious affair. Wouldn't it be nobler to +surrender the fictitious conquest to his beloved +friend, to adopt a sacrificial attitude and allow +Snorky to go in and win her?</p> + +<p>"I say, old boy, I'm awfully sorry; do you +really care?"</p> + +<p>"For Mimi Lafontaine? For a girl that +can't tell a man from a cabbage? Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>All kindly feelings vanished.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's the good of calling yourself +names?" said Skippy crushingly. He picked +up the photograph and smiled at it. "Mimi is +a flirt, but she has her good points."</p> + +<p>"Look here!" said Snorky, rising in sudden +fury. "There's one question has got to be +answered right now."</p> + +<p>"And pray what is that?" said Skippy, resting +one elbow on the top of the bed and crossing +his legs to show his perfect calm.</p> + +<p>Snorky planted himself before the bureau +and extended his hand in a furious gesture +towards the lace bed cap that now adorned the +top.</p> + +<p>"Does or does not <i>that</i> belong to Miss Lafontaine?"</p> + +<p>"Any one who would lower himself to ask +such a question," said Skippy, still in a stage +attitude, "does not deserve my sympathy. I +would have given her up. Now I shall keep +her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you think she cares for you, you +chump?"</p> + +<p>"I do not discuss women."</p> + +<p>The gauntlet had been thrown down and the +demon of jealousy took up his abode with +the <i>ménage</i> Bedelle and Green. For a week the +comedy continued, while conversation was reduced +to a minimum and transmitted in writing +along the lines of Skippy's imagining. Each +watched the other's correspondence with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +jealous eye. Whenever Skippy received a letter +from home, he ostensibly hugged it to his +shirt-front and, repairing to a corner, read it +furtively with the pink morocco case before +him. Afterward he would execute a double +shuffle across the room, whistle a hilarious +strain, and give every facial contortion which +could express a lover's joy, while Snorky +squirmed and scowled and pretended not to +notice. Snorky in turn retaliated by writing +long letters after hours by the light of a single +candle, ruffling up his hair and breathing audibly. +In the morning Skippy, passing towards +the washstand, would see on the table a swollen +envelope, addressed:</p> + +<div class='center'> +Miss Mimi Lafontaine,<br /> +Farmington,<br /> +Conn.<br /> +</div> + +<p>These letters troubled him. When a fellow +could write over four pages it certainly must +be serious, and these looked as though they +held forty. The trouble was that Skippy had +begun to believe in his own passion. The little +Japanese brunette had become a reality to him. +He had talked with her, walked with her, received +the avowal of her own uncontrollable +impulse towards him. In fact, at times he almost +believed that he had actually held her in +his arms and whirled in the dizzy intoxication +of the waltzes he had announced. He even was +able to feel a real pang of jealousy, a fierce and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +contending antagonism against Snorky, who +actually knew her. Such a situation was of +course fraught with too many explosive possibilities +to long endure. Fortunately Fate +stepped in and preserved the friendship.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">All's Well That Ends Well</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>A WEEK after these events, returning on a +Saturday morning from the last vexations +of the curriculum with the expectant thrill of +the opening of the baseball season, Skippy was +amazed to receive, by the hands of Klondike, +the colored sweep, a scribbled note in the +familiar handwriting of his sister:</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><span class="smcap">Dear Jack:</span> + +<p>Miss Green and I and a party of girls are down for the +game. We're at the Lodge. Come right over and bring +Arthur.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Sis.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<p>His first emotion was one of horror; had they +been up to the room, and was his duplicity +forever at the mercy of a sister's gibes? Klondike +reassured him. He bounded upstairs, +made a hasty survey, found everything in order, +and hastily departed for the Lodge, after a +quick plunge into the glorious buckskin vest, a +struggle into a clean collar and a hurried dusting +off of his shoes against the window seat. +He reached the parlors of the Lodge on the +heels of Snorky Green, who, being as thoroughly +bored by the prospect as he, forgot the +week's feud in a common misery.</p> + +<p>"Gee! Aren't sisters the limit?"</p> + +<p>"Well, we're in for it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let's hope they clear out before dinner."</p> + +<p>The next moment Skippy was perfunctorily +pecking at the cheek of Miss Clara Bedelle +and pretending to be overjoyed at the +prospect of parading before the assembled +school with six young ladies in tow. Then he +looked up and something like a cataleptic fit +went through his body.</p> + +<p>Directly in front of him, evidently waiting for +the introduction, was unmistakably Miss Mimi +Lafontaine! He looked at Snorky and saw the +same expression of horror over his pudgy +features, as he came up, knees shaking, to be +introduced in turn.</p> + +<p>Then to Snorky's distressed soul came the +welcome sound:</p> + +<p>"Jack, dear, I want you to meet Mimi—Miss +Lafontaine."</p> + +<p>To the amazement of sisters and friends, +said Snorky, advancing with outstretched hand:</p> + +<p>"Hello, you old Skippy!"</p> + +<p>Skippy clung to it as to a spar in midstream.</p> + +<p>"Snorky, old dear—it's all right."</p> + +<p>"It is?"</p> + +<p>"You bet it is!"</p> + +<p>"What are you idiotic boys doing?" said +Sister Green.</p> + +<p>"Shall we tell?" asked Snorky roguishly.</p> + +<p>"Women have no sense of humor," said +Skippy, grinning with a great easement of the +soul.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>At this moment they rose above the vexations +of the female intrusion. They looked at +each other and each comprehended the other. +They were equals, equal in imagination, in +audacity and expedient. This mutual revelation +cleared away all past misunderstanding +and jealousies. The sense of humor was triumphant. +They loved each other.</p> + +<p>A half-hour later, having, to the utter amazement +of sister No. 1 and sister No. 2, rolled +hilariously, arms locked, across the campus, +they lay on opposite beds, struggling weakly +to master the pangs of laughter which smote +them like the colic.</p> + +<p>"Are we going to tell our real names?" said +Skippy at last.</p> + +<p>"Let's."</p> + +<p>"You know, Bo, you certainly had me going—you +certainly did. And all these months, +too! Snorky, I bow before you."</p> + +<p>"Allow me," said Snorky admiringly.</p> + +<p>"Say! You're all right, but honest now," +said Skippy, pointing to Snorky's bureau and +the feminine galaxy, "honest, who are they?"</p> + +<p>"Well, of course one's my sister," said +Snorky, grinning. "I swiped these three and +I bought the other with the frame. Say, I'm +not worried about how you got yours, but what +I'd like to know is, who in tarnation belongs +to that boudoir cap?"</p> + +<p>"My grandmother, and she's a corker, too!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>They clasped hands and Snorky announced +solemnly:</p> + +<p>"Skippy, old fellow, let 'em have all their +old skirts; there's nothing like the real thing, +the man-to-man stuff, is there?"</p> + +<p>"You bet there isn't."</p> + +<p>"And say, I'm sorry about that souvenir +toothbrush, honest I am, and I think you're a +wonder, I do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right. That's all right," +said Skippy, embarrassed. "There's a lot of +money in it, but I guess I prefer to make my +pile in other ways."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">A Woman Of The World</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>NOW that the Snorky-Skippy friendship had +been placed on the firm rock of mutual revelation +and all unfounded jealousies swept +away by frank confession, Skippy's imagination +returned to the real purpose of life. He +was a little ashamed of the time wasted on the +opposite sex, even if for a worthy purpose. +Such frailties were all very well for Shrimp +Davis and the Triumphant Egghead, who had +legs educated for the ballroom, but he, John C. +Bedelle, had other missions to perform in this +life which held such short years for a man of +imagination.</div> + +<p>For several days he sought diligently among +the needs of human nature for something on +the grand scale. He tried his hand at a perpetual-motion +machine. He thought out a combination +submarine and airship which would +put the navies of the world at the mercy of his +country. He even descended to such trivial +abstractions as a Reversible Shirt-Front, which +took its due place in the book of inventions +under the following entry:</p> + +<div class='center'>REVERSIBLE SHIRT-FRONT</div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Argument: Admitted that Reversible Shirt-Fronts +are easy to manufacture; what demand would there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +be for them? Could they be popularized among the +working classes? Treat cuffs same way.</p></div> + +<p>For certain reasons he decided not to discuss +this last invention with Snorky Green. These +tentative efforts were but exercising his imagination. +He knew it and waited breathlessly.</p> + +<p>But at last, a month after the failure of +the Foot-Regulator, the long-awaited thrill arrived, +the thrill which comes only with the possession +of a Universal Idea, and for the first +time in his long, untroubled fifteen years, it +arrived in conjunction with the intrusion into +his still simple scheme of things of that arch-disturber—<span class="smcap">woman</span>.</p> + +<p>Miss Virginia Dabtree was not destined to +occupy the proud place of the first love, though +Miss Dabtree (who was Snorky Green's aunt) +was eminently equipped for such a position, +being eighteen years his senior and at an age +when by instinct, habit, and a need of self-encouragement, +any tribute from the opposite +sex, no matter how given, caused her not the +slightest irritation.</p> + +<p>Skippy, however, was too completely dazzled +by the consummate artistry of Miss Dabtree's +clinging toilettes, the built-up luxuriousness of +her hair, the pink and white complexion, the +stenciled eyebrows, and the Lady Vere de Vere +attitudes to dare to entertain a personal hope.</p> + +<p>He was dazzled, dumfounded! A new world +opened to him. Through her at last he perceived<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +woman, her place in the now more complex +scheme of things, the influence she could +exert, the stimulus to the imagination, and the +answer to his need of some guiding purpose.</p> + +<p>True, Miss Dabtree's age was her protection. +She was removed from even the flights of his +imagination, yet the influence she exerted all +unwittingly over his life was inestimable. For +it was for her, to protect her, that he, Skippy +Bedelle, conceived his magnum opus, the Mosquito-Proof +Socks.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The hour was eight, the day Sunday, the time +the first clear week in June. They sat together +on the porch of the Kennedy, listening to the +sound of the Upper House singing rising +clearly above the twang of banjos across the +campus from the esplanade.</p> + +<p>The long twilight had set in, yet the afterglow +hung brilliantly about them. Skippy was +balanced gingerly on the front edge of a rocker +which swayed perilously under him and added +to his general discomfort. There was a safe +straight-backed stationary chair only ten feet +away, but to save his life he could think of no +legitimate excuse for rising and possessing it. +If he leaned back the sharp upright collar, borrowed +from Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan, +cut cruelly into his chin, and when he craned +forward the red choker tie (restored by Snorky +in addition to the agate cuff buttons) bulged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +forth in the most disconcerting and unimpressive +luxuriance.</p> + +<p>"You've known Snorky, that is, Arthur, a +long time, haven't you?" he said desperately, +breathing hard.</p> + +<p>"Why, you funny boy! I'm his aunt," said +Miss Dabtree, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" He felt he had offended her +mortally, so to repair his social blunder he said +point-blank: "Gee! Some fellows are born +lucky!"</p> + +<p>"Now that is sweet of you," she said, giving +him the full effect of her heavenly smile. "But +I'm afraid you're a terrible flatterer."</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell her about the Foot Regulator?" +thought Skippy, who felt the need of confiding +his life's ambition.</p> + +<p>But at this moment Destiny arrived in the +shape of a mosquito that registered its coming +on one of Skippy's open-work socks. Skippy +shook his foot uneasily, just enough to disturb +the intruder but not enough to attract Miss Dabtree's +attention. The mosquito transferred its +operations to the other sock. Skippy, in order +to conceal his predicament, slowly crossed his +legs and then hastily uncrossed them, not being +quite sure of the etiquette of such a position.</p> + +<p>The mosquito, pursuing its way, lighted +on the graceful silver-sheened stocking which +Skippy had been contemplating furtively for +the last ten minutes with a sudden realization<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +that the feminine ankle has certain strange sentimental +values utterly different from those for +which his and Snorky Green's were created.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 283px;"> +<img src="images/facing-078.jpg" width="283" height="400" alt=""Good gracious!" cried Miss Dabtree with an impetuous lunge towards the point of attack. Page 78" title=""Good gracious!" cried Miss Dabtree with an impetuous lunge towards the point of attack. Page 78" /> +<span class="caption">"Good gracious!" cried Miss Dabtree with an impetuous lunge towards the point of attack. Page 78</span> +</div> + +<p>But immediately a terrible dilemma arose. +How was he to act? In another moment the +beautiful creature so perfumingly close to him +would notice the intruder, might even retreat +before the menace of more mosquitoes, and the +rapturous twilight opportunity for opening his +confidence would pass forever. His instinct +was all to protect her. But how? To slap at +the insect with his cap or his hand was unthinkable. +He found himself blushing at the very +thought! Yet how to warn her without acknowledging +that his attention had been concentrated +on the lower graceful silhouette? He +might offend her irreparably. Even if he exclaimed, +"Look out, there's a 'skeeter,'" what +would he answer if she in her innocence should +ask, "Where?"</p> + +<p>As he debated this, hot and cold, the inevitable +happened.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" cried Miss Dabtree with +an impetuous lunge towards the point of attack, +which made Skippy modestly avert his gaze. +"This place is filled with mosquitoes. We never +can sit here!"</p> + +<p>She rose and led the way to the parlor.</p> + +<p>"Won't you come and wait for Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, thanks awfully; much obliged," +said Skippy, gulping down his disappointment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +He tripped against the foot-scraper and made +a mess of opening the door for her. He wanted +above all things in the world to follow her in +and be permitted just for a few more wonderful +minutes to sit and gaze at her loveliness. But +to admit this was impossible. Whatever happened, +she must never suspect, never! So at +loss for an excuse he stammered, "I'd love to, +but really I ought to get back for study hour."</p> + +<p>A moment later, having backed and scraped +down the steps and thanked her profusely for +some indefinite thing for which she ought to be +thanked, he went rushing around the corner, +let himself in by King Lentz's window, and surreptitiously +gained his room. At last, having +torn off the red choker tie and freed his neck, +back once more to the ease of bachelor attire, he +returned wrathfully to the pest which had perhaps +saved him from his first sentimental excursion.</p> + +<p>Sunk in a cushioned armchair, his slippered +feet on the desk, a bottle of cooling ginger pop +in one hand and a cream puff in the other, he +placed before his imagination the problem:</p> + +<p>"Why the mosquito?"</p> + +<p>The more he pondered the more he became +impressed with the fact that here indubitably +was one of the errors of the Almighty. Snakes +destroyed rats and mice at least, but what +earthly purpose was served by mosquitoes?</p> + +<p>He knew, as all smatterings of outer information<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +reached him via the weekly lecture course, +that besides being a stinging annoyance to the +human race, the mosquito was a breeder of +plagues and had to be fought in southern climes. +Having wrathfully considered his subject and +come to the conclusion that no mitigating circumstances +could exist, he next put to himself +this problem:</p> + +<p>"If the mosquito cannot be exterminated, +can it be neutralized? If so, how?"</p> + +<p>When Snorky Green, to whom Miss Dabtree +was more aunt than woman, came bursting in +an hour later, with the rebellious consciousness +of having thoroughly earned the five-dollar bill +which lay in the safest of pockets, he stopped +short at the sight of his roommate in that reclining +concentration which Sherlock Holmes +has popularized, the briar pipe being replaced +by a large pencil, on which Skippy was chewing +in heavy meditation.</p> + +<p>"I say, Skippy, the old girl certainly came up +handsome!" said Snorky gleefully, searching +for the bill.</p> + +<p>"Sh—sh!" said Skippy without turning.</p> + +<p>"What the deuce?"</p> + +<p>"I want to think."</p> + +<p>"Danged if he isn't inventing something +else!" said Snorky, who went on tiptoe to a +position where he could study the frowning +outward signs of the mental disturbances which +were undoubtedly working inwardly. At the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +end of a silent hour, Skippy condescended to +relax.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Snorky excitedly.</p> + +<p>Skippy rose with dignity and went to the +window, gazing out a moment into the darkling +night where unknown myriads of mosquitoes +lurked all unconscious of the doom impending +over them.</p> + +<p>"I say, Skippy, what's the big idea?"</p> + +<p>"It's big—bigger than anything you ever +imagined," said Skippy impressively.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to tell a fellow!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps."</p> + +<p>Now Snorky was not without a certain knowledge +of human nature, particularly Skippy-nature, +so without further interest he proceeded +to disrobe, flipping the five-dollar bill on the +table with a rakish gesture and saying carelessly:</p> + +<p>"The old gal has a heart, anyhow. However, +ta-ta for the night."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later Skippy spoke from the +depths of his bed.</p> + +<p>"Snorky, I'll tell you this much."</p> + +<p>There was a convulsion among the opposite +sheets and Snorky sat up.</p> + +<p>"Go on, I'm listening!"</p> + +<p>"It's bigger than bathtubs."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so!"</p> + +<p>"Snorky, it's—"</p> + +<p>"It's what?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's mosquitoes!"</p> + +<p>Accustomed as Snorky had become to the +young inventor's cryptic methods, his imagination +refused to follow.</p> + +<p>"You don't see?"</p> + +<p>"How the deuce should I see?"</p> + +<p>"Snorky, I'm going to put the mosquito out +of business!"</p> + +<p>"How in tarnation!"</p> + +<p>"When I get through with him," said Skippy +loftily, "when my plans are perfected—he'll +starve to death!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, say! Skippy, is that all you're going +to tell me?"</p> + +<p>"That is all for to-night," said Skippy, who, +seizing a slipper, flung it across the room at the +evening's candle after the methods introduced +by the lamented Hickey Hicks, and plunged the +room into darkness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Plot Against the Mosquito</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>IF close association had brought to Snorky a +canny knowledge of his roommate's need of +unbosoming himself of a great idea, it had also +acquainted Skippy with the profit to be derived +from Snorky's overwhelming curiosity, particularly +when there were any symptoms of ready +cash.</div> + +<p>The next afternoon, therefore, without being +unduly surprised, he accepted an invitation to +accompany Mr. Snorky Green to the home of +the Conovers up the road, where the record +for pancakes at one continuous sitting stood +at forty-nine to the honor (without challengers) +of the Hon. Hungry Smeed.</p> + +<p>Somewhere between the fourteenth and fifteenth +pancake, having solicitously offered the +maple syrup, Snorky said casually:</p> + +<p>"That's a jim-dandy idea of yours, old +horse, about mosquitoes."</p> + +<p>"I'm looking at it from all sides."</p> + +<p>This answer did not satisfy Snorky Green's +thirst for information, so he said encouragingly:</p> + +<p>"It's a great idea. You must."</p> + +<p>"Heard of Luther Burbank and what he does +with plants?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sure, that was in last week's lecture. Seedless +fruit and all that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"Snorky," said Skippy meditatively, "who +knows but some day a scientist will cross the +mosquito with a butterfly?"</p> + +<p>"What good'll that do?"</p> + +<p>"It would take the sting out of the mosquito, +wouldn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose it put it into the butterfly."</p> + +<p>"If you're going to be facetious—" said +Skippy, who, being sufficiently fed, rose with +dignity, glad of the opportunity to postpone +the discussion to another appetizing sitting.</p> + +<p>For a week Snorky Green, greatly impressed +by the concentrated moodiness of his chum's +attitude, artfully fed him with pancakes, éclairs, +Turkish paste, and late at night tempted him +with deviled chicken and saltines to be washed +down with ginger pop and root beer.</p> + +<p>Skippy, having calculated nicely the possibilities +of the exchequer, threw out progressively +dark, mysterious hints that fed Snorky's curiosity, +without any open gift of his confidence. +Even Doc Macnooder, aware by all outward +signs that the imagination which had conceived +of the Foot Regulator was again fermenting, +had laid his arm about his shoulders and led +him to the Jigger Shop.</p> + +<p>But the Skippy Bedelle, who had assumed +the trials and tribulations of manhood, had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +profited by the first disillusionments. The +trusting, childlike faith was gone forever and +in his new, skeptical attitude towards human +nature—Toots Cortrelle excepted—he had +determined to part with as few millions as +possible.</p> + +<p>"I say, Skippy, how's it working out?" said +Snorky at eleven <span class="smcap">p.m.</span>, producing the crackers +and cheese, after having blinded the windows +and hung a blanket over the telltale cracks of +the door.</p> + +<p>"Fine!"</p> + +<p>"Is that all you're going to tell me?" said +Snorky with his hand on the cheese.</p> + +<p>"Not yet, but soon," said Skippy, whose +appetite always betrayed his caution.</p> + +<p>"In that case I serve notice right here I'm +through with the financing!"</p> + +<p>"The financing!"</p> + +<p>"What else do you call it?" said Snorky +indignantly, producing the last two quarters +from his pocket, and restoring the cheese to its +box.</p> + +<p>"All that will go down to your credit +account," said Skippy in a conciliatory tone. +"I'll tell you this much. There's nothing in +the butterfly idea—it would take too long."</p> + +<p>"Huh! You didn't think I bit on that! +Well, how're you going to clean 'em up? They +destroy 'em in Cuba with kerosene—I've +been reading up. Is it something like that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Destroy them, why destroy them?" said +Skippy reprovingly.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"If you destroy mosquitoes you destroy your +income, you poor boob," said Skippy with his +superior manner. "Let 'em live—who profits? +I do."</p> + +<p>Snorky rose and produced the Bible.</p> + +<p>"Come on," he said, in a fever of excitement. +"I'm ready. Give me the oath."</p> + +<p>"You'll take the oath on my own terms!" +said Skippy, looking at him fixedly.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, terms?"</p> + +<p>"Snorky, it's so big it may take years of +investigation, you understand—"</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>"This time I'm not giving up any fifty-one +per cent."</p> + +<p>"Let her go!"</p> + +<p>"And if any one goes in they go in on a +salary!"</p> + +<p>"Oho! I see."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll swear," said Snorky, after a +brief wrestling between his curiosity and his +financial instincts.</p> + +<p>"It may be years working out," said Skippy +sadly. "Maybe our children will live to see it; +but Snorky, some day, I'm telling you, when +the idea is perfected, the mosquito is going to +starve to death!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>Snorky, without waiting to be prompted, +hurriedly took an oath to guard the secret from +man woman and child and called down the +scourges of Jehovah on his nearest of kin if +he should ever prove false.</p> + +<p>"Snorky," said Skippy, folding his arms behind +him and spreading his legs after the manner +ascribed to the famous Corsican, "where +do mosquitoes bite you the most?"</p> + +<p>"Golly! Where don't they?" said Snorky, +who, thus reminded, began to scratch back of +his ears.</p> + +<p>"Where do they bite where you can't hear +them coming?"</p> + +<p>"Legs and ankles," said Snorky instantly.</p> + +<p>"Bright boy—you're getting closer."</p> + +<p>"Danged if I can see it."</p> + +<p>"Protect the ankles and the mosquito starves—am +I right?"</p> + +<p>"Hurry up," said Snorky, who by this time +recognized that the first reasoning processes +were simply eliminatory.</p> + +<p>"That was my problem," said Skippy, frowning +impressively. "Here is the answer—this +is how it came to me." He went to the bureau +and passed his hand into a sock, two fingers +projecting through the devastated regions. +"What do you call this?"</p> + +<p>"That—that's my sock."</p> + +<p>"You call 'em hole-proof socks," said Skippy, +ignoring the aspersion. "You get it? You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +don't? Suppose we change it, suppose we use +the same organization but call it—Mosquito-Proof +Socks."</p> + +<p>"Mosquito-Proof Socks!" said Snorky in a +whisper.</p> + +<p>Skippy, satisfied at the staggering effect produced, +stood with a smile waiting for the full +result.</p> + +<p>"But, Skippy, is it—possible?" said Snorky +faintly when he had brought his lower jaw back +under control.</p> + +<p>"That's not the way to look at it," said +Skippy impatiently. "Is the idea A No. 1, or +is it not?"</p> + +<p>"The idea? My aunt's cat's pants—the +idea!" said Snorky all in a breath, "Mosquito-Proof +Socks! Why, it's—it's—it's—" But +here Snorky stopped, nonplussed, having exhausted +his supply of adjectives on the Foot +Regulator.</p> + +<p>"It is!" said Skippy firmly.</p> + +<p>"But won't they be too heavy?"</p> + +<p>"What the deuce—"</p> + +<p>"Why, they'd have to be regular bullet-proof, +wouldn't they?"</p> + +<p>"Say! What do you think I'm talking about—Tin +Socks?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I thought—"</p> + +<p>"Listen! This is the way you get at it," said +Skippy, walking up and down in ponderous +concentration but pausing from time to time to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +dip into the cheese. "You begin by looking at +it from the point of view of the mosquito. A +mosquito has got nerves, hasn't he, just like a +horse or a cat or a bullfrog?"</p> + +<p>"Sure he has."</p> + +<p>"What frightens a mosquito most?"</p> + +<p>"Is it a joke?" said Snorky <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'thoughfully'">thoughtfully</ins>.</p> + +<p>"Green—"</p> + +<p>"I apologize," said Snorky hastily, and he +brought out a bottle of sarsaparilla.</p> + +<p>"A horse shies at a bit of paper; a sneeze +will scare a cat, won't it? Well, then, what will +scare a mosquito—it's all there!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what <i>will</i> scare a mosquito?" said +Snorky, wide-eyed.</p> + +<p>"That is the field of investigation," said +Skippy in a melancholy voice.</p> + +<p>"But you said Mosquito-Proof Socks!"</p> + +<p>"I did. Suppose a harsh sound annoys a +mosquito; all you've got to do is to suspend +a tiny rusty bell—"</p> + +<p>"I don't like that," said Snorky instantly.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't sound modest—"</p> + +<p>"That is probably not the way," said Skippy, +dismissing this objection with a wave of his +hand. "I'm thorough, that's all. Supposing +there are certain colors that scare him or make +him seasick—red and purple or yellow and +violet."</p> + +<p>"By jingo! Now you're talking."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Suppose the mosquito has some deadly enemy. +Then all you've got to do is to work his +picture into the design of the socks."</p> + +<p>"Holy cats!"</p> + +<p>"Supposin' it's just the sense of smell you +get him by—"</p> + +<p>"Citronella!" fairly shouted Snorky.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Skippy, alarmed at the outbreak.</p> + +<p>"Citronella!" said Snorky in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"You see? Mosquito-Proof Socks is the +idea—and there must be fifty ways of working +it out."</p> + +<p>"Cheese it!" said Snorky, dousing the light +at a sound in the hall.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At a point somewhere between the witching +hour and the dawn Snorky said in a tentative +whisper:</p> + +<p>"Hey there, Skippy! Are you awake?"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Gosh! Skippy, I can't sleep. It's just +steaming around in my brain!"</p> + +<p>"M. P. S.?"</p> + +<p>"You bet. I can't see anything but them, +millions of them!"</p> + +<p>"Mosquitoes?"</p> + +<p>"No—legs! Holy Jemima! Skippy, have +you thought how many legs there are in the +world? Why, in the United States alone twice +ninety-two million. Think of it! And what'll<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +they average in socks and stockings? I've been +trying to work it out all night. Gee! My head's +just cracking. If you multiply twice ninety-two +million by seven pair of socks or even +six—"</p> + +<p>"Don't!" said Skippy angrily, and he +thought to himself, "Thinking of money, thinking +of money! How mercenary he is!"</p> + +<p>"Standard Oil is nowhere," said Snorky +feverishly.</p> + +<p>"Don't I know it!"</p> + +<p>"Oil'll run out but there'll always be +mosquitoes and legs!"</p> + +<p>"Darn you, Snorky! Shut up and let me +sleep!"</p> + +<p>But how was he to sleep with the vision that +Snorky's avaricious imagination held out to +him? All night long he tossed about restlessly, +wandering in a forest of legs; white ones and +red ones, black ones and yellow ones, tall ones +and short ones, fat, thin, bow-legged and +crooked, all the legs in the world waiting for +him to rise up and protect them!</p> + +<p>The next morning it was worse. All his imagination, +suddenly diverted from the exact +scientific contemplation, was halted before the +stupendous contemplation of future profits.</p> + +<p>"Snorky Green is a bad influence," he said +moodily as he trudged out heavy-headed from +morning chapel. Do what he might, the contamination +spread. With all the long fatigue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +of patient investigation he knew was ahead, his +mind leaped over the present and galloped into +the future.</p> + +<p>"Multiply twice ninety-two million legs by +six pair of socks," he found himself repeating. +"Oil may run out, but you bet there'll always +be mosquitoes and legs."</p> + +<p>Yes, it was greater than Standard Oil. It was +fabulous to conceive of the wealth that would +be his. All at once the John C. Bedelle Gymnasium +seemed ludicrously inadequate. He would +double the present equipment! There would +be a second campus—Bedelle Circle! The +school lacked water; he would create a lake for +it and the John C. Bedelle Boathouse. . . .</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Bedelle, kindly shine for us. You may +translate, John, but be cautious and not too +free."</p> + +<p>The Roman's mocking voice brought him precipitately +to his feet. He opened his book but +the passage had escaped him and though he dug +Shrimp Bedient savagely in the back, no signal +returned.</p> + +<p>"Excellent so far, quite exceptionally excellent; +nothing to criticize," said the Roman's +rising and falling inflection. "Go on."</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, I didn't do the advance."</p> + +<p>The class roared and the Roman said:</p> + +<p>"Too bad, John, too bad! No luck in guessing +this morning. We're in the review, John.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +Too bad! Dreaming again, John? Don't do it, +don't do it! The country will take care of itself, +without you. Times are hard, John. Another +year in the Second Form is a dreadful drain on +Father's pocket-book. Sit down, John, and +don't dream—don't do it."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Skippy sat down and glared at the Roman.</p> + +<p>Some day, some day he would even institute +a fund for superannuated teachers, he would! +He would come back some day to the school he +had made the greatest in the country; he would +come as the <span class="smcap">benefactor</span> and then the Roman, +old, and decrepit in a wheeled chair, would be +brought to him, to him, John C. Bedelle, whom +as a boy he had held up to the ridicule of the +class! What a revenge that would be, the proud +and haughty Roman, the greatest flunker of +them all, the Roman of the caustic tongue and +the all-seeing eye, actually clinging to his hand, +stammering out his thanks . . . the Roman +whose mocking voice still echoed in his memory, +"Don't dream, John, don't do it!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Tennessee Shad Suspects</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THE Tennessee Shad, as has been told, was +long, thin and full of bones. His imagination +was chiefly occupied in initiating ideas +which would be the cause of exertion in others. +In the warmth of the budding season he came +out of his winter cage and could be seen for +long hours perched on his window sill in the +Kennedy, legs pendent; like some dreamy vulture, +surveying the horizon for a significant +point.</div> + +<p>There was little that escaped the Shad. +For some time his curiosity had been stirred +by the unusual attentions paid to Skippy Bedelle +by his old side-partner, Doc Macnooder. +Doc was eminently practical and if Doc devoted +any part of his time to an inconsequential +underformer, in the language of the day, there +was something doing.</p> + +<p>The early visits of Macnooder to Skippy's +room at the time of the Foot Regulator campaign +had been noted, likewise the subsequent +cooling of the affection. So when after a few +weeks' lapse Macnooder was again seen impelling +Skippy in the direction of the Jigger Shop +with a protecting arm over his shoulders, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +Tennessee Shad whistled softly through his +teeth and said to himself:</p> + +<p>"I wonder what new flim-flam game is on?"</p> + +<p>Now Macnooder was distinctly a trespasser, +for Macnooder belonged to the Dickinson and +Skippy was of the Kennedy and, by that token, +his lawful prize. The Tennessee Shad's vigilance +redoubled. He began to note the air of +mystery and solemnity which hung over the +two roommates, their frequent whisperings and +the moments of intense excitement when, with +locked arms and heads close together, they +drew surreptitiously away from their fellows +for secret conclave. When presently Greaser +Tunxton, a solitary youngster who ranked high +among the polers and high markers with a curious +penchant for chemistry, began to be seen +in their company, the Tennessee Shad's vigilance +became acute.</p> + +<p>One night, when after hours he was returning +from a midnight spread in King Lentz's room, +his ear detected unmistakable signs of activity +behind Skippy's door across the hall. A quarter +of an hour later two stocking-clad forms +stole past his open door and slowly down the +treacherous stairs. The Tennessee Shad followed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Below, the door of Greaser Tunxton opened +cautiously and as cautiously closed again. A +moment later the Shad, now at the keyhole,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +heard the window open and the sounds of a +foray into the night. He calculated nicely, +passed into the room and out the window and +took up the trail of the three shadows moving +in the general direction of Memorial Hall.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later the Tennessee Shad, having +stalked his prey in classic Deerslayer manner, +reached the farther stretches of the pond and, +flat on his stomach among the high grasses, +heard the following mysterious dialogue:</p> + +<p>"How's this, Skippy?"</p> + +<p>"Fine! Must be millions of them."</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose they sleep?"</p> + +<p>"We'll wake 'em up."</p> + +<p>"Shucks! It's only bullfrogs," thought the +Tennessee Shad; but at this moment perceiving +the three in clear silhouette against the faint +moonlight, he instantly discarded that explanation. +The three wanderers into the night were +clothed in helmets, from which voluminous +folds of cheesecloth descended to the waists, +while each had his trousers rolled up well above +the knees. The conversation continued, to his +growing mystification.</p> + +<p>"They're awake, all right. I can hear them +coming!"</p> + +<p>"You're the boss, Skippy. What's the +order?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty paces apart. Greaser, you shake +the bell, slowly. Snorky, you stand here, and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +mind you, no slapping or moving. Everything +scientific."</p> + +<p>"All right, but get a move on. Ouch, I've +got two already."</p> + +<p>"Red leg or blue leg?"</p> + +<p>"Blue, darn it!"</p> + +<p>"Fine! I'll count a hundred slowly. Start +up, Greaser."</p> + +<p>The low, harsh, grating sounds of a rusty +bell slowly agitated began to be heard, punctuating +the droning count: "Five, six, seven!"</p> + +<p>"For the love of Willie Keeler, what is it!" +said the Shad, more and more bewildered, as +he rubbed one leg against the other and shook +his head to protect himself from the many insects. +"It must be a secret society and this is +the initiation."</p> + +<p>"Skippy?"</p> + +<p>"Hello!"</p> + +<p>"The bell's no good at all."</p> + +<p>"Twenty-nine, thirty—remember your oath."</p> + +<p>"Say! Count a little faster; I can't hold out +much longer."</p> + +<p>"Red leg or blue?"</p> + +<p>"Both, darn it!"</p> + +<p>"Any difference?"</p> + +<p>The reply was too blasphemous to be set +down here.</p> + +<p>The Tennessee Shad, too, was paying dearly +the price of his curiosity; so, being convinced +that he had stumbled upon a secret initiation,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +he decided to get some enjoyment out of the +situation. Presently, trumpeting his mouth +with his hands, he emitted a long, wailing +sound:</p> + +<p>"Ugh, wugh, guggle, guggle!"</p> + +<p>"Good lord! What was that?"</p> + +<p>"Did you hear it?"</p> + +<p>"It's a night owl that's all; fifty-six, fifty-seven—"</p> + +<p>"Oonah, woonah, WOO, HOO!"</p> + +<p>"Night owls nothing; it's ghosts!"</p> + +<p>"There ain't no ghosts, you chicken-livered—"</p> + +<p>But at this moment the Tennessee Shad, +smarting from head to foot, let out an ear-splitting +screech and the three experimenters +in mosquitology disappeared at top speed. The +Tennessee Shad, satisfied, emerged, examined +with curiosity a discarded helmet smeared with +citronella-soaked cheesecloth, and picked up a +rusty dinner bell. This last stuck in the crop of +his imagination.</p> + +<p>"Secret-society stuff," he said to himself as +he slapped his way out of the marsh. "But +why the bell? Darn mysterious, that bell. . . ."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Experiments in Fragrance</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THE result of the first investigation in the +likes and dislikes of the New Jersey mosquito +brought a decided difference of opinion. It +was admitted (given the swollen condition of +Greaser Tunxton's legs) that the insect's sense +of hearing was undoubtedly defective. Snorky +Green was equally emphatic in expressing his +conviction that all colors were alike to it, but +Skippy insisted that it was not scientific to +jump to a conclusion on the basis of one experiment.</div> + +<p>"But golly! I had forty-seven bites on the +red stocking and sixty-five on the blue, and if +that doesn't prove anything, I'd like to know +what!"</p> + +<p>"It proves that blue attracts them more than +red, that's all. We must now try other combinations."</p> + +<p>"It proves one thing right here," said +Snorky Green, dousing his legs with the second +bottle of witch hazel. "I'm through on the +human-experiment game, and that's flat."</p> + +<p>"I'm inclined to believe we should concentrate +on the sense of smell," said Skippy +thoughtfully. "As a matter of fact the experiment +turned out as I foresaw."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It did, eh?" said Snorky wrathfully.</p> + +<p>Skippy retreated to the other side of the +table and hurriedly announced:</p> + +<p>"I've been talking it over with Greaser here +and the problem is narrowing down. Now what +we've got to figure out is, shall we make it a +washing solution or something that'll stick forever?"</p> + +<p>"Washing solution."</p> + +<p>"Sure we could wash the socks in some sort +of preparation of citronella, couldn't we?"</p> + +<p>"That's too easy. Any one could do that."</p> + +<p>"Exactly! That's why we must experiment +further. Greaser's got some very good ideas."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Well, bring on your stinks; I can +stand them."</p> + +<p>"You can?"</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>"You swear?"</p> + +<p>"I swear. What's the idea, Greaser?"</p> + +<p>Greaser Tunxton looked at him hard and +thoughtfully before replying.</p> + +<p>"You see, citronella comes out in the wash, +but there are one or two other things much +stronger."</p> + +<p>"Citronella's pretty strong!" said Snorky, +who began to wonder if he had promised too +rashly.</p> + +<p>"Ever heard of asafœtida?" said Skippy, +with his hand on the chemical genius.</p> + +<p>"That's the stuff you put on the furnace<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +at co-ed schools when you want a cut," said +Snorky, who knew the story of Dink Stover's +reasons for coming to Lawrenceville.</p> + +<p>"It is quite possible," said Greaser in his +smileless, scientific manner, "that, properly +treated, a mixture of silk and cotton, possibly +wool, will retain enough of the essential quality +of asafœtida for at least a dozen washings—"</p> + +<p>"Isn't citronella bad enough?" said Snorky, +with a horrible misgiving.</p> + +<p>"It's extremely doubtful," said Greaser, +shaking his head, "but I don't want to say anything +definitely before we make exhaustive experiments."</p> + +<p>"Where?" said Snorky, shrinking. "If it's +down at the pond again, good night!"</p> + +<p>"Green!" said Skippy wrathfully.</p> + +<p>"Bedelle to you!"</p> + +<p>"The experiments can be conducted right +here," said Greaser reassuringly.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Well, why didn't you say so?" said +Snorky, feeling a little ashamed. "Perhaps +after all asa—asa—well, whatever it is, will +come out in the wash, too."</p> + +<p>"If it does," said Greaser proudly, "I've +got something worse."</p> + +<p>"Worse!" said Snorky, with a sinking heart.</p> + +<p>"<i>Worse!</i>" said Skippy joyfully.</p> + +<p>"If you put that on," said Greaser, meditating, +"the socks will be better than mosquito-proof—even +rattlesnakes wouldn't bite you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Criminy! What is it?"</p> + +<p>"I know what it is," said Greaser, wagging +his head wisely, "but I can't pronounce it!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Events now moved rapidly. The following +morning, despite the draft which entered +through three windows and swept out the door, +the Roman stopped the morning recitation +after five minutes of indignant commotion in +the class and, making a detailed investigation, +dispensed with the presence of Mr. Snorky +Green, Mr. Skippy Bedelle and Mr. Greaser +Tunxton (the last with incredulous chagrin) +with a request to produce each individual bath +record for the week.</p> + +<p>At eight o'clock that night Snorky Green +deserted the communal laboratory, bag and +baggage, announcing that he was through once +and for all, and sought asylum of Dennis de +Brian de Boru. Finnegan, after the first whiff, +barricaded the door and seized a baseball bat +to repel any aggression via the transom.</p> + +<p>At eight-thirty, the inhabitants of the second +floor held an indignation meeting on the steps.</p> + +<p>"Holy Moses! What is it?" said the Triumphant +Egghead, smelling in the direction of the +offending room.</p> + +<p>"It's a dead cat."</p> + +<p>"Smells like ripe sauerkraut and garlic!"</p> + +<p>"No, it smells like asafœtida."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The deuce you say! Asafœtida is a maiden's +perfume to this!"</p> + +<p>"Well, some one's dead."</p> + +<p>"It's the Greaser, then."</p> + +<p>"My Lord! This is awful!"</p> + +<p>"Skippy's found a pet skunk."</p> + +<p>"How in blazes are we going to stand it?"</p> + +<p>"We won't."</p> + +<p>When the odor had finally rolled down the +stairs a house meeting was called and the offenders +were summoned to appear. Skippy Bedelle +and Greaser Tunxton responded and the +house adjourned through the windows. Now it +happened that the Roman was dining in Princeton +that night and the conduct of discipline +was in the hands of a young assistant master, +lately transferred from the wilds of the Dickinson, +Mr. Lorenzo Blackstone Tapping.</p> + +<p>Tabby, as he was more affectionately known, +was apt to be somewhat confused, as is natural, +before an extraordinary crisis, and had made +one or two lamentable blunders. In the present +case, after immediately sending in a hurry call +for the plumber, he departed in a panic for +Foundation House, holding before him on a pair +of tongs a pair of reeking football stockings +which he had seized in the wash basin, while +Skippy Bedelle, under strict orders, remained +twenty paces to the rear and out of the wind.</p> + +<p>Arrived before the dark and awesome, ivy-hidden +portals of the Head Master's dread<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +abode, Mr. Tapping carefully deposited the +unspeakable mess against the stone steps, stationed +the rebellious Skippy under an opposite +tree and entered, in a fever of excitement.</p> + +<p>"Great heavens!" said the Doctor, starting +from his chair. "Are you ill?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, it's not myself. That is, it's—it's +the whole house; it's young Bedelle, sir. +The fact is, Doctor, the situation was so serious +that I—I thought I'd best come to you +directly, sir."</p> + +<p>"Try to give the details a little more calmly +and coherently, Mr. Tapping," said the Doctor, +retreating behind a handkerchief and studying +the young assistant with a growing suspicion. +He indicated his guest and added, "Professor +Rootmeyer of Princeton—Mr. Tapping, one +of our younger masters."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later Skippy, shivering under +the apple tree, beheld Tabby reappear, take up +the tongs gingerly and return to the house. +Almost immediately the window of the Doctor's +study opened with a bang and there was an +iron clank in the near roadway.</p> + +<p>"I never smelled such a smell! Is it possible?" +said the Doctor, coughing. "What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, I don't know," said Mr. Tapping +miserably.</p> + +<p>"You don't know and you are a B. S.?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't the faintest idea."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, what is your explanation, or have you +any explanation of this extraordinary occurrence?"</p> + +<p>"I think, sir, the boy is completely unbalanced."</p> + +<p>"Bedelle! He's always been steady and well +conducted."</p> + +<p>"He's been acting queerly lately, sir, and he +absolutely refuses to give any explanation. +The house, sir, is quite untenantable. I—I +don't think the boys can sleep there to-night."</p> + +<p>"Where is Bedelle now?"</p> + +<p>"He is outside, sir—waiting."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I had better examine into this +myself," said the Doctor, frowning. "Bedelle +is a good boy—a bit of a dreamer, but a good, +reliable boy. Mr. Tapping, you may return to +the Kennedy and quiet them. I shall be over +later. Keep Bedelle waiting—outside."</p> + +<p>"Jim," said Professor Rootmeyer, the distinguished +chemist, "there are only two things +in God's universe can produce a smell like that—a +dead Indian and butyl mercaptan."</p> + +<p>The Doctor immediately discarded the first +hypothesis.</p> + +<p>"Frank, you've hit it. It <i>is</i> butyl mercaptan," +he said, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Well, how did you know?"</p> + +<p>"I remember once when I was a shaver—"</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Professor Rootmeyer as the +Doctor came to a hurried stop.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> + +<p>"H'm, we are living in the present," said the +Doctor after a second thought.</p> + +<p>He rose and went to the doorstep.</p> + +<p>"Bedelle!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>The stench began to swell with the hurried +approach.</p> + +<p>"Stop there," said the Doctor hastily, and, +having had his imagination sharpened by frequent +contact with the genus boy, he added with +sudden inspiration: "Go round to my study +window. I will speak to you from inside."</p> + +<p>A moment later Skippy's white face appeared, +framed against the night.</p> + +<p>"Bedelle, Mr. Hopkins reports that you were +dismissed from first recital this morning, for +being in a condition which unfitted you for +association with your fellow beings. Is that +true?"</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, it was the citronella."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Tapping reports that the stench arising +from your room has made the house untenantable. +Is that true?"</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, that was asafœtida and—"</p> + +<p>"And butyl mercaptan; I'm quite aware of +that," said the Doctor quickly, to continue the +tradition of omniscience.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, Bedelle, what is your explanation? +Were you trying to poison any one?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You were not contemplating self-destruction, +were you?" said the Doctor, whose curiosity +led him to adopt a light coaxing manner.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, I was experimenting."</p> + +<p>"Experimenting! What for?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, sir, I can't tell you," said +Skippy defiantly. He had foreseen the test, +but he was resolved to be drawn and quartered +before yielding up the secret of his future millions.</p> + +<p>"You—can't—tell—<span class="smcap">me</span>?" said the Doctor +in his pulpit sternness.</p> + +<p>"No, sir. I've taken an oath."</p> + +<p>"Do you realize, Bedelle, that you owe me an +explanation, that if there is no explanation +for this extraordinary attack on the discipline +and morale of the school that I should be quite +justified in requesting your immediate departure?"</p> + +<p>"I know, sir. Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And you refuse still?"</p> + +<p>"It's an invention, sir. That's all I can tell +you, sir. I'm sorry, sir. Please, Doctor, I'd +like to stay in the school."</p> + +<p>The Doctor considered. He was a just man +and his sense of humor allowed him to distinguish +between the vicious and the playful imagination. +After long, agonizing moments for +Skippy waiting at the window, he took a sudden +decision.</p> + +<p>"Bedelle?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"If I let you remain at Lawrenceville, will +you give me a promise—that so long as you +remain here, you won't attempt to invent anything +else?"</p> + +<p>"So long as I'm in the school?" said Skippy, +broken-hearted.</p> + +<p>"Absolutely. It's that or expulsion. I have +four hundred tender lives to protect. Well?"</p> + +<p>"I swear," said Skippy, with tears in his +eyes.</p> + +<p>The Doctor bit hard and said:</p> + +<p>"Then I shall overlook this. Your record is +in your favor. I shall overlook this. I have +your word of honor, Bedelle. Good night."</p> + +<p>Skippy drew a long breath and went hurriedly +back to the Kennedy. But there he +halted. The smell was awful and the comments +which reached him through the open windows +were not at all reassuring.</p> + +<p>"I think—I think perhaps it's warm enough +outside," he said, heavy-hearted.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>For two more years he had solemnly sworn +to refrain from inventing, and Skippy was a +man of his word. No matter, there was this +consolation: Mosquito-Proof Socks would some +day be a reality; butyl mercaptan had proved +its worth at the first test. He would devote +himself to a scientific preparation. He was +young. With twice ninety-two million legs to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +be protected with six pairs of socks or stockings +a year, he could afford to wait.</p> + +<p>"Before I'm thirty, I'll be a millionaire," he +said defiantly. "I'll own race horses and yachts +and boxes at the opera and I'll marry—" Here +he hesitated and the figure of Lillian Russell +somehow became confused with a new apparition. +Something that was and was not +Miss Virginia Dabtree, but most certainly wore +silver stockings, which it would be his duty and +privilege to protect. "Well, anyhow, she'll +drive a four-in-hand and wear pearls for breakfast," +he concluded, and, whistling, he went +down to dream out the night in the baseball +cage.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Soap and Sentiment</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>TEN days after the dreadful fiasco of the +Mosquito-Proof Socks, when a corps of experts +had succeeded in removing the stench +from the upper floors of the Kennedy; when +certain garments had been taken out under a +vigilantes committee and had been publicly interred; +when the three offenders had again +been permitted to resume their membership in +civilized society—Snorky Green began to be +alarmed at certain disquieting symptoms in the +conduct of Skippy Bedelle.</div> + +<p>"I don't like it," he said, standing before +his roommate's washstand in a dark <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'revery'">reverie</ins>. +"Danged if I like the looks of things. Somethin' +is certainly doing. It certainly is."</p> + +<p>He picked up a large new nailbrush, showed +it to Dennis de Brian de Boru, who had been +called in consultation, and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Spending his money on bric-a-brac like that—and +that's not all!" he said indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Let me know the worst," said Dennis who, +perched on the table tailor fashion, had been +ruminating, and when Dennis de Brian de Boru +remained silent, the mental wheels were grinding +rapidly. "Fire away, if you want to know +anything—ask me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> + +<p>Snorky proceeded to lift the broken cover +of the soap dish, and brought forth a cake +which he tendered gingerly to Dennis for his +olfactory inspection.</p> + +<p>"What a lovely pink stink!" he exclaimed, +after one sniff. "Smells like the cook on her +Sunday off."</p> + +<p>"Are you convinced?"</p> + +<p>"I am. Skippy, the human scent-box is undoubtedly +in love. Object matrimony."</p> + +<p>"He's got it bad this time," said Snorky, +remembering that they had a reputation as +lady-killers to maintain.</p> + +<p>"If you will associate with 'em, it's bound to +happen," said Finnegan in his rapid fire style. +"I know the symptoms. My brother Pat went +maudlin, when he was just Skippy's age. Ten +years of it, presents Christmas and birthdays, +flowers twice a month, postage stamps and +letter paper, weekly bulletins and all that sort +of rot! Ten years, and then he married a girl, +best friend stuff, trust you together and all that—married +her a month after he met her. Think +of the expense. Not for me, old top—my +money goes for race horses."</p> + +<p>"You've nothing to worry over, you wild +Irishman," said Snorky, who felt a certain presumption +in this lesson.</p> + +<p>"Casting aspersions? Oh, I don't know! I +may not be beautiful, but women, proud women, +have sighed as I passed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Run away," said Snorky impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I was just going," said Dennis with dignity. +At the door he paused for a parting shot. +"Hard luck, old gormandizer. There won't be +so many midnight spreads for you, now. Cut +down the jiggers, shut up the pantry, tighten +the belt! Skippy'll need his money for <i>other</i> +things. Thank the Lord the only thing he can +get into of mine, is a necktie. Hard luck!"</p> + +<p>Perhaps a little of the practical reactions had +occurred to Snorky, for he flung a shoe at the +diminutive Finnegan and was still in a brown +study when Skippy came in.</p> + +<p>"If he starts to wash he's in love. Bet +that's why he's been so friendly," he thought, +waiting developments. "I thought it was queer +he didn't sulk more after the big smell!"</p> + +<p>In fact Snorky had been considerably puzzled +at his roommate's actions after the fiasco of the +Mosquito-Proof Socks.</p> + +<p>"Any mail?" said Skippy nervously.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>"Come to think about it, there might be a +letter over on the table."</p> + +<p>The Byronic melancholy vanished from Skippy's +face. He sprang to the table and seized +the envelope.</p> + +<p>"Feeling better?" said Snorky, noting the +beneficial results.</p> + +<p>"Much."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You look ten years younger."</p> + +<p>"You go to blazes!" said Skippy, but without +anger. He went to the bed and flinging +back the mattress uncovered three pairs of +trousers slowly hardening into that razor edge +which is the <i>sine qua non</i> of a man of fashion. +Apparently satisfied, he next proceeded to the +mirror, where, after a short inspection, he +seized his brushes, dipped them into the water +pitcher and laboriously began to reconstruct +the perfect part that was beginning to replace +the Skippy cowlick. Trousers may be brought +to order in a few minutes, but to subdue a cowlick +is a matter of years. Ten minutes' rigorous +application of the brushes failing to +produce results, he ducked into the washbasin, +drove a line with the comb, slicked down the +sides and applied a press, in the form of a +derby, which process will subdue the most +recalcitrant of cowlicks for at least two +hours.</p> + +<p>"Aha! Object matrimony?" said a squeaky +voice.</p> + +<p>Skippy looked up wrathfully to perceive the +curious eyes of Dennis de Brian de Boru gazing +from the transom. Both brushes went flying +across the room, but Dennis knew when his +presence was <i>de trop</i>. The episode shook off +the derby and deranged the part. Snorky +watched the process of reconstruction with a +meditative glance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Skippy, old horse, you are <i>so</i> spick and +span. Has love really come to you?"</p> + +<p>"You go take a run and jump," said Skippy +lightly and he began to whistle a genial air.</p> + +<p>Now if Bedelle had denied the direct accusation, +Snorky would have been certain of its +truth, vice versa if the answer had been broadly +affirmative, Snorky would have at once dismissed +the suspicion. Skippy's light, <i>de haut +en bas</i> manner left him unconvinced. Circumstantial +evidence was all he had to go on, but +the evidence was strong. Skippy undeniably +was a changed man.</p> + +<p>"What day is it?" said Skippy, who had been +reading over the letter.</p> + +<p>"Wednesday, you chump."</p> + +<p>"Three days to Saturday," said Skippy with +a sigh. He went to the washstand, poured out +the water and began to scrub diligently at his +nails.</p> + +<p>"Well, you ought to get them clean by that +time," said Skippy facetiously.</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"So you are in love?" said Snorky, shifting +the conversation.</p> + +<p>"What makes you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, open your heart, what's a roommate +for?"</p> + +<p>"You'd be a nice one to confide in! Why not +shout it in a telephone?"</p> + +<p>"Hold up, that's a raw deal," said Snorky<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +rising wrathfully. "I may have weakened +under that awful stink, but I kept the secret, +didn't I? Didn't I stand up three hours +against the whole blooming house and did they +ever get a word from me about Mosquito-Proof +Socks, and in the state of temper they were too? +Oh, I say, come now, square deal you know!"</p> + +<p>Skippy considered him more favorably. Besides, +he remembered that by Saturday he +would need to embellish his sartorial display +with a few treasures from his chum's wardrobe. +He sat down and took his head in his hands.</p> + +<p>"Snorky, old fellow, you're right—I've got +it bad."</p> + +<p>"And you're going over to Princeton Saturday +to meet her?" said Skippy, who saw a trail.</p> + +<p>"Her, what her?"</p> + +<p>"Mimi Lafontaine, of course," said Snorky +with a sudden intuition.</p> + +<p>"Her name is Tina," said Snorky tragically. +"Her first name. Perhaps some day I can tell +you her real name, not now."</p> + +<p>"Rats, it is Mimi, and you're going over +again to meet her at the game," said Snorky, +who knew the Skippy imagination.</p> + +<p>"So you think I'm going to Princeton," said +Skippy looking at him wisely. "I am—but +from there I am making a cut for New York. +Get the point?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tina's in New York?"</p> + +<p>"She is." He hesitated a moment, and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +weighing his words to give full value to their +dramatic significance, he added—"She is on +the stage."</p> + +<p>"You're a thundering, whooping, common-a-garden +liar," said Snorky, who felt that his +sympathies were being trifled with. "Where in +blazes would you know an actress anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"And you asked my confidence!" said Skippy +reproachfully. "Tina and I grew up together. +She ran away a year ago. It's a terrible story, +terrible! She's had the devil of a life, poor +little girl. Gosh, if I were only twenty-one!"</p> + +<p>"Skippy, if you are faking it again this +time," said Snorky, whose confidence was +shaken by the perfect seriousness of his chum's +melancholy. "If you are, dinged if I'll ever +believe another word."</p> + +<p>"See here—did I volunteer to tell you?" +said Skippy, who rose with a complete injured +air. "That settles it. This is all you'll ever +know."</p> + +<p>And leaving Snorky in a ferment of curiosity +he went to his desk, drew out a sheet of paper +and began to run his fingers through his hair.</p> + +<p>Snorky, as a matter of fact, had hit the nail +on the head, though of course it would never +do to have him suspect it. Skippy did not mind +confiding to him his state of mind, in fact it was +absolutely necessary if he were to go on without +an internal explosion to seek some sympathy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +and understanding. But to admit to Snorky +that he had actually succumbed to Mimi the +Japanese brunette, particularly when the issue +was still clothed in doubt,—was unthinkable. +So Skippy invented Tina.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Love Comes Like the Measles</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>IT had all happened the Saturday before, when +for reasons of her own Miss Clara Bedelle +(the reasons taking shape in the heroic figure +of Turkey Reiter, captain of the eleven, and the +Triumphant Egghead, premier danseur of the +school) had asked Skippy to invite those +heroes, as she, being already wise in protective +knowledge, preferred not to show her affection +too directly. Skippy, on receipt of these sisterly +directions, had been in a towering rage, +for it had never occurred to him that men of the +world such as Turkey and the Egghead would +for a moment condescend. If it had not been +for the added bait of a Princeton game, he +would never have found the courage. The result +upset all his preconceived theories, and it +was not until he found himself on the high road +to Princeton, actually squeezed into a buggy +between two eager and enthusiastic lords of +the school that he attempted to reason it out. +The attempt, however, was beyond him. If +girls as such were incomprehensible, how the +deuce was he, Skippy Bedelle, to conceive that +such a thing as a sister, particularly his sister, +could arouse any enthusiasm?</div> + +<p>"Guess it's the grub and the game all right,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +he reflected finally. "Anyhow they will let me +alone, that's something."</p> + +<p>At lunch it did seem that his wish was to be +gratified and despite certain sisterly glances of +reproach, he was able to secure a third helping +of roast beef and a double portion of ice cream +and cake, with the connivance of Miss Biggs +the chaperone, while Sister and Miss Lafontaine +attended to the chatter. So engrossed was he +in this attempt to stock up for the long week +ahead, that he completely failed to notice the +comedy which was being played to the greater +edification of Mr. Turkey Reiter and the obvious +disconcerting of the Triumphant Egghead, who +was being neglected flagrantly and openly for +mysterious reasons known only to the ladies.</p> + +<p>Skippy, therefore, was totally unprepared, as +he was both shocked and terrified, suddenly to +find himself at the side of Miss Mimi, with +Turkey and his sister behind, while the Triumphant +Egghead, not to give his tormentor +any further satisfaction, was pretending to +laugh uproariously at something that his companion, +Miss Biggs, had just said. For five +minutes Skippy was in the most complete funk +of his life. His body seemed suddenly all hands +and pockets and do what he would his feet +would interfere as they had that awful day +eight months before when he had descended +into the family parlor in the first pair of long +trousers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think that Princeton is just the sweetest +place in the world, don't you?" said Miss Lafontaine +with the air of a great discovery.</p> + +<p>"I'm preparing for Yale," said Skippy +hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad," said the young lady immediately, +and sinking her voice to a confidential +whisper, she added, "you know I'm Yale +too though you mustn't give it away. I think +Yale men have such strong characters, don't +you? You can't help but admire them, can +you?"</p> + +<p>Skippy had no ideas upon any subject whatsoever +at that moment, besides he hadn't the +slightest idea what she meant. So he took out +his handkerchief and then put it back suddenly, +as he remembered that a nose was never blown +in polite society. As Miss Lafontaine's sole +object in appropriating Skippy was the reflex +action on the Triumphant Egghead, it was absolutely +necessary that Skippy should at least +give the appearance of appreciating the privilege. +Miss Mimi, therefore, decided to jump +the fence of strict conventionality if the expression +be permitted.</p> + +<p>"Jack," she said, coming closer, "own up +now, you are a terrible woman-hater, aren't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Damn all sisters," he muttered to himself. +Then he looked up and met at the deadliest of +ranges, the smiling, mischievous eyes of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +Japanese brunette. Despite himself, he broke +into a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Girls do give me a pain," he said abruptly, +"but for the love of Mike, I mean for heaven's +sake, don't tell Sis I said that."</p> + +<p>Miss Mimi immediately passed her hand +through his arm.</p> + +<p>"Won't you try very, very hard, Jack, to +make an exception?"</p> + +<p>He breathed hard and something warm went +up his back like the warm ripple of the hot +water when his body slowly immersed. If +Snorky Green could see him now! Mimi hanging +on his arm, Mimi's soft voice pleading with +him, Mimi, just as she had done in the fictitious +weeks, throwing herself at him, actually throwing +herself at him! He tried to remember one +of the dozen eloquent replies he had once +evolved, but nothing came.</p> + +<p>"I say, you're not a sister, are you?"</p> + +<p>Miss Lafontaine was considerably puzzled +by this but pretended that she was an only +child.</p> + +<p>"Well that makes a difference; I thought you +couldn't be," said Skippy unbending a little, +"you act differently."</p> + +<p>"Oh I see," said Mimi, who had half expected +a display of sentiment, "aren't you a +funny man. So you don't approve of sisters?"</p> + +<p>She had called him a man—perhaps after +all his sister had not told the age of his trousers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +He straightened up and answered, "Oh, I suppose +they are all right—later on."</p> + +<p>"Jack—you <i>are</i> a woman-hater!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," he said, beginning to be +flattered, and he fell to wondering how he could +call her Mimi, which of course was his right.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you a secret, but perhaps you know +it already. Perhaps after all you are only making +fun of me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, Mimi," he said all in a gulp and +then blushed to his ears.</p> + +<p>The young lady, noticing this, smiled to herself +and continued:</p> + +<p>"Well, if you are simply pretending, it's a +very good way to get a lot of attention, but of +course you know that."</p> + +<p>"I? What? Oh, really you don't think!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know. Because of course that +is what does make a man interesting. It is +such a compliment when he does take notice. +Now a man like Mr. Sidell who jollies every girl +he meets—"</p> + +<p>"The Egghead is a terrible fusser," said +Skippy with new appreciation of his own value, +"you should have seen him at the Prom."</p> + +<p>"Did he have Cora Lantier down, the blonde +girl with the big ears!"</p> + +<p>"She was blonde but I didn't notice the ears. +She was down two weeks ago."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she was?"</p> + +<p>Miss Lafontaine glanced backward and snuggled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +a little closer. Skippy began to be aware +of the strangest of symptoms; at one moment he +felt a rush of blood to the forehead just like the +beginnings of bronchitis, the next moment his +throat was swollen as though it were the +mumps, yet immediately there came a weakness +in his knees that could only be influenza. The +warm contact of the little hand penetrated +through his sleeve, the sound of her voice shut +out all other sounds in his ears, and when he +met her eyes his glance turned hastily away +and as avidly returned.</p> + +<p>Mimi Lafontaine at the age of nineteen knew +very little of the school curriculum, but had a +marked aptitude for the liberal intuitive arts.</p> + +<p>"Mimi would flirt with a clothes horse, if +you flung a pair of trousers over it," a dear +friend had said of her, and on the present occasion +she was deriving a good deal of pleasure +from the situation. The attitude of a young +lady of nineteen, about to emerge into society, +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'vis-a-vis'">vis-à-vis</ins> with a youngster sprouting out of his +first long trousers, particularly when he happens +to be the brother of a best friend, is a +fairly obvious one. There is no excitement to +be derived but a certain amount of exercise. A +fisherman is necessarily a man who enjoys +catching fish, and if trout are not rising to the +fly, sitting on the edge of the wharf and hauling +in suckers is still fishing.</p> + +<p>At the end of the afternoon Skippy was head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +over heels in love. If he had had the opportunity +he would have trusted her with the secret +of his life's ambition—the Bathtub and the +Mosquito-Proof Socks. But Miss Mimi was too +busy extracting information about the Triumphant +Egghead (who had countered by steadfastly +devoting himself to Miss Biggs) and +certain sentimental chapters in the past of her +best friend in which she had had a revisionary +interest. These <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'subleties'">subtleties</ins> naturally were beyond +the experience of Skippy, in fact he was +quite unable to reason on anything. His heart +was swollen to twice its natural size, his pulse +was racing, and the next moment with the +wrench of the farewell, he felt in a numb +despair, the light go out of the day, and a vast +sinking weight rushing him down into chill +regions of loneliness.</p> + +<p>"Say Skippy, old sporting life," said Turkey +Reiter, speaking over his head to the Egghead, +who was in a terrific sulk, "How do you do it?"</p> + +<p>"Do what, Turk?"</p> + +<p>"Why, my boy, you're the quickest worker +I ever saw; I thought the Egghead knew his +business, but he's a babe, a suckling to you!"</p> + +<p>"Mimi Lafontaine is the damnedest little flirt +I ever met," said the Egghead, with a slash of +his whip which sent the buggy careening on two +wheels.</p> + +<p>"Hold on there!" said Turkey, grabbing the +reins. "I've got to live another week. Well,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +Skippy, my hat's off to you, old sporting life. +You've got her feeding out of your hand. . . And +Mimi too, right under the Egghead's eye!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, come off now, Turkey," said Skippy, +to whom this light badinage was torture.</p> + +<p>"Shucks!" said the Egghead, "you know her +game."</p> + +<p>"Well you played a pretty slick game yourself, +old horse, but how did you enjoy Miss +Biggs?"</p> + +<p>"You go chase yourself," said the Egghead, +flinging the remnants of a cream puff at the +horse, which kept Turkey busy for the next five +minutes.</p> + +<p>Skippy scarcely heard. All he wanted was +to have the drive over and to be alone with his +memories. How bold he had been at the end +when he had crushed her little hand in his! +Had she understood—and just what had she +meant when she had said,</p> + +<p>"And so it's Jack and Mimi now, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>That night at precisely 10.45 in his sixteenth +year, hanging out of the second story window +of the Kennedy, with a soul above mosquitoes, +Skippy Bedelle discovered the moon.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Forty-eight hours later, Skippy suddenly +realized that the hot and cold symptoms, the +loss of appetite, the inability to concentrate his +mind on either "The Count of Monte Cristo" +or "Lorna Doone," the hardness of his bed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +the length of the day were not due to either +German measles or the grippe. He was suffering +from something that neither Dr. Johnny's +pink pills, nor his white ones nor the big black +ones could alleviate. He was in love, genuinely, +utterly, hopelessly in love.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Urchin Begins to Bloom</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THE first result of young love was a sudden +aversion to the well-known but freckled +features of Skippy Bedelle. The examination +in the looking-glass had left him in a condition +of abject despair. Only a man, full-fledged and +resplendent, could hope to hold the affections +of the dazzling Mimi Lafontaine, and what a +tousled, scrubby little urchin he was! That +night he spent one dollar and twenty cents, out +of a slender reserve, for toilette accessories, +and began the long fight for a part in the +middle of his reckless, foaming hair.</div> + +<p>The next day marked a milestone in the sentimental +progression of Mr. John C. Bedelle. For +the first time in his life, his astonished eyes encountered +a little blue envelope inscribed to his +name in a large, dashing, unmistakably feminine +hand. Neither mother nor sister, aunt or +cousin had ever addressed that letter. He +picked it up and then set it down with a sudden +swimming feeling. It was postmarked +"Farmington."</p> + +<p>"My Lord, if it should be from her," he said.</p> + +<p>There was, of course, one sure way to solve +the difficulty, but Skippy was too overcome by +his emotion to imagine it. Instead, he sat down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +and contemplated it with a mystical veneration.</p> + +<p>"It can't be. No, no, it can't be from Mimi! +Good Lord, no. A girl doesn't write to a man +first," he said, shaking his head. "It's from +Sis. It's a joke, and she's got some one else +to address it. That's it."</p> + +<p>He opened the letter, which read as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><span class="smcap">Dear Jack,</span> + +<p>I'm writing you for Clara, who is, as you know, a dreadfully +lazy person. School is over and I shall bring Clara back +to Trenton with me day after to-morrow. Are you so bored +with my dreadful sex or have you made a little exception? +Any way, this is to warn you that you may have to be my +cavalier once more if we decide to go again to Princeton.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">Faithfully yours,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Mimi.</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>I saw Cora Lantier in New York. She is going up to the +Williams Commencement with a <i>very dear</i> friend. Don't tell +this to Mr. Sidell.</p></div> + +<p>There are, of course, three ways of contemplating +a letter written by a young lady, according +to whether the recipient be a friend, +is in love, or being in love, loves without hope. +Skippy used all three methods. That night he +placed four pairs of trousers to press under his +mattress, discarded the dicky (a labor saving +device formed by the junction of two cuffs and +a collar which snapped into place and fulfilled +the requirements of table etiquette), and +painted the ends of his fingers with iodine to +break himself of the habit of living on his nails.</p> + +<p>On the following Saturday, Mr. Sidell being +still, as it were, under absent treatment, Mr. +Turkey Reiter making the fourth, Skippy experienced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +the terrifying joy of sitting in the +back seat next to Miss Mimi Lafontaine.</p> + +<p>"You bad boy, why didn't you answer my +letter?" said that young lady, after a careful +inspection of the embarrassed Skippy had resulted +in much increased satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"I wrote you three times," he said, staring +at his shoes.</p> + +<p>"Three—then they must have gone to the +school."</p> + +<p>"I tore them up," he said, under his voice.</p> + +<p>Between a feminine nineteen and a masculine +fifteen, much is permissible. Miss Mimi, under +protection of the rug, slid her little hand into +his painfully-scrubbed one.</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow!" she said softly.</p> + +<p>"Gee!"</p> + +<p>It was not exactly the last word in romance, +but it came from the heart, a sort of final gasp as +Skippy felt the waters closing above him. With +her hand in his, something rose in his throat +and he had to fight back the dimming of his +eyes. By the time they rolled into Princeton +there was no longer need of explanation. He +felt that she knew beyond the shadow of a mistake, +just what he felt for her, he, Skippy, who +had never loved before. Of course she was not +pledged. That he comprehended. She was yet +to be won. The years between them were +nothing. Josephine Beauharnais was older +than Napoleon. By the time they returned to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +the school, he had opened his heart impulsively +and spread before the astonished ideal of his +affections the treasures of his inventive imagination. +Miss Lafontaine had been sympathetic. +She had understood at once. She had rather +lightly passed over the Bedelle Improved Bathtub. +The subject, of course, was a delicate one; +but the idea of mosquito-proof stockings had +captured her imagination. With her faith acquired +he could wait for years the coming opportunity.</p> + +<p>"Why, Jack, I never heard of such an imagination," +she said, converting an explosive laugh +into a sneeze in the nick of time.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's just a beginning," he said confidently. +"I've got bigger things than that +stored away."</p> + +<p>"Why, you'll be richer than Rockefeller!"</p> + +<p>"That's only a small part of it," he said +carelessly. What of course he had wished her +to know, and he flattered himself that he had +done it with great delicacy, was that he was a +prize worth waiting for.</p> + +<p>"You didn't tell Mr. Sidell about Cora, did +you?" said Mimi irrelevantly, as they arrived +at the school and she began anxiously to scan +the passing groups.</p> + +<p>"You bet I didn't, good Lord, no, Mimi."</p> + +<p>"I was sure I could trust you," said Miss +Lafontaine,—who of course had hoped for +quite a different issue.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Gee! this has been one day," he said, half +smothered with emotion.</p> + +<p>"Has it really?" said the young lady, giving +his arm a little squeeze.</p> + +<p>"I shall never, never forget."</p> + +<p>"Jack, that's what they all say."</p> + +<p>Her skepticism pained him. He wanted to do +something, something heroic to show her the +manly quality of his devotion.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose there's any chance of your +getting permission to come back with us for +dinner," said Clara Bedelle to Turkey.</p> + +<p>"About as much chance as my passing a +Bible exam," said Turkey cheerfully.</p> + +<p>A great idea smote down on Skippy,—he +would accomplish the impossible!</p> + +<p>"Swear to keep a secret, Mimi?" he said in +a whisper.</p> + +<p>"I swear."</p> + +<p>"I shall call on you at exactly nine thirty +to-night."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, but we're ages away."</p> + +<p>"What difference does that make? There is +something I've just got to say to you."</p> + +<p>"But if they catch you!"</p> + +<p>"They won't."</p> + +<p>"But, Jack, how will you get there?"</p> + +<p>"I'll come on the run," said Skippy gorgeously; +which proved that if his experience +was limited he had certain intuitions to build +upon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>When Skippy directly after supper bolted to +his room and began to scrub for the superlative +toilette, after collecting a pair of kid gloves +from Butcher Stevens and a purple tie from +Dennis de Brian de Boru, Snorky Green was +finally convinced that matters had reached a +serious pass.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were in New York," he said, +remembering Skippy's previous declaration.</p> + +<p>"What? Oh yes!" Skippy, whose mind was +not on consistency, hastily caught himself. +"Oh, Tina! She came down to meet me."</p> + +<p>"What in the mischief are you up to +now?"</p> + +<p>"For the love of Pete don't bother me," said +Skippy. "Tell you later. Honest, Snorky, it's +serious, and I'm in a devil of a hurry."</p> + +<p>He struggled into his best pair of low blacks, +and suddenly a new perplexity arose. What +would they look like after five miles tramp +through the fields and the dust? Yet if he +openly pocketed a shoebrush and cloth, how +explain this to the ever-incredulous Snorky? +The window was open. He simulated a final +polish and profiting by a favorable moment +tossed the brush and cloth out into the dark. +Then he stationed himself before the mirror for +the final struggle to achieve a part.</p> + +<p>"Looks like last year's toothbrush," said +Dennis de Brian de Boru, via the transom, his +usual defensive position.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Looks like the home rooster when the imported +bantam has left," said Snorky.</p> + +<p>"Looks like a cat that's walked in the +mucilage."</p> + +<p>"That'll be quite enough," said Skippy, +whose patience was evaporating.</p> + +<p>"Vaseline'll do the trick," said Dennis +softly.</p> + +<p>Vaseline! Skippy seized upon the idea in +desperation. But to his horror, once the part +was achieved, the slippery and sticky effect of +the flattened hair was horrifying.</p> + +<p>"Where in Moses is that Irishman!" he cried, +slamming open the door.</p> + +<p>"Face powder will take the shine off," said +Snorky, after an immersion of the head in the +washbasin had aggravated the catastrophe.</p> + +<p>"My Lord, I've got to do something," said +Skippy, almost in tears. Snorky came to his +rescue and between a vigorous rubbing with a +bath towel and a liberal sprinkling of talcum +powder, an effect was finally produced which at +least was not shiny. Skippy, who had been +glancing at his watch every three minutes, +ended his toilette in a whirl.</p> + +<p>"How much money have you got?"</p> + +<p>Snorky produced three quarters.</p> + +<p>"I'll send it back to you if I don't return."</p> + +<p>A light burst over Snorky, confirming his +worst suspicions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Skippy," he said, seizing his arm, "you're +running away! You're going on the stage!"</p> + +<p>He had not thought of this, but he appropriated +the suggestion at once by avoiding a +denial.</p> + +<p>"Snorky, old pal," he said solemnly, "stand +by me now. When it's all over I'll write you."</p> + +<p>"But, good Lord, Skippy—"</p> + +<p>"Don't try to stop me. My mind's made +up."</p> + +<p>"But I say—"</p> + +<p>"I've given my <i>word</i>," said Skippy tragically. +"If I'm not back by eight o'clock to-morrow +morning, mail this letter to my mother +and give this to the Doctor. Good-bye. God +bless you—and I'll pay you back the first +money I earn."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Heart of a Brunette</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>HE recovered the shoebrush from under the +window of Tabby, the young assistant +house-master, and tucking it into his pocket, +skirted the outer limits of the school, dodged +behind a fence, and creeping on all-fours, made +a wide detour via the pond and rejoined the high +road to Trenton which lay five dusty miles +away. Luckily the evening was overclouded and +the shadows protecting. His problem was not +simply to arrive at the Lafontaines' at exactly +the hour but to arrive there with a cool and +dignified appearance. It was hot, and the +derby hat pressed down on the vaselined hair +was hotter than anything about him, hotter +even than the parched fields and the steaming +asphalt which yielded to his feet.</div> + +<p>"Gosh, I oughter have brought a towel," he +said, when at the end of twenty minutes he +stopped to remove his hat and allow the hot +vapors to escape. He sat down and fanned himself +vigorously. Then he took off his necktie +and collar and placed them in his pocket, and +finally shed his coat under favor of the night. +He could scarcely distinguish the road beneath +him, and several times only saved himself from +sprawling on his nose by a convulsive grasping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +at a nearby fence. But what did the toil, the +heat, or the terrors of the night matter? He +was going to see her again. Not only that but +he would come to her surrounded by the romance +of a great danger run, just to sit in +her presence, to hear her voice, to see in her +eyes some tender recognition of what he had +dared for her. This was romance indeed!</p> + +<p>A dog came savagely out of the night. How +was he to know that a fence intervened? He +ran a quarter of a mile and again sat down. It +grew hotter; he was dripping from head to foot. +A wagon or two went by, but he did not dare +to ask for a ride, for fear of encountering some +agent of the Doctor's secret police. For, perhaps, +his absence was already discovered and +the alarm had gone out.</p> + +<p>The heat and the discomfort somewhat interfered +with the free play of his imagination, but +the quality of romance still kept with him.</p> + +<p>"When I'm twenty-one," he said to himself +again and again, in a vague defiance of all the +hostile powers of Society. Only five years and +six weeks intervened before the glowing horizon +of liberty. Did she care? Even that did +not matter. She knew what the future held for +him. The main thing, the thing to cling to, was +that her heart was kind. Of that there could be +no question. How gentle and how understanding +she had been! He could come to her and +tell her anything—absolutely anything!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good Lord, what a difference it makes to +have some one you can trust," he said solemnly +to the night. "Some one to work for!"</p> + +<p>At nine o'clock he reached the outskirts of +Trenton, and having cooled off, put on his collar +and necktie. Then he stopped at a stationer's +to ask his way. A large florid young woman, +chewing gum, was behind the counter, patting +down her oily chestnut curls.</p> + +<p>"Say, can you tell me where the Lafontaines +live?" he said with an extra polite bow.</p> + +<p>Fortunately she knew and directed him.</p> + +<p>"You're one of them Lawrenceville boys, +ain't you?" she said, eyeing with curiosity the +oozy ruffle of his hair.</p> + +<p>Skippy was shocked at this easy discovery of +his youth.</p> + +<p>"Come off. I'm a member of the Princeton +faculty," he said loftily.</p> + +<p>"Well, I think you're one of them Lawrenceville +boys," she said, following him to the door.</p> + +<p>He waved back gaily and went skipping up +the street. He arrived before the Lafontaine +mansion with exactly five minutes to spare. +The old Colonial house was set back in a wide +plot and masked by convenient foliage. Skippy, +passing down the side wall, sheltered himself +behind a bush, his heart pumping with excitement, +and drew on the gloves which he had +borrowed from Butcher Stevens. Then extracting +the shoebrush and cloth from his pocket,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +he busied himself hurriedly with removing +from his trousers and shoes all traces of the +dusty way he had come. This done, he hid the +brush and cloth under the bush and straightened +up. Unfortunately either the last preparations +or the terrific sentimental strain of +facing his first call upon a member of the opposite +sex had so increased his temperature +that his forehead was again covered with +perspiration.</p> + +<p>"Great Willies! I can't go in like this—if +I only had a handkerchief—what am I to +do?"</p> + +<p>But just at the moment when he had improvised +into a towel the most available part of +his shirt, his heart stood still at hearing above +him the following conversation:</p> + +<p>"Mimi, you're a witch," said the voice of +his sister, "I never would have believed it."</p> + +<p>"Well, my dear, you wanted me to wake him +up. I've done it. Goodness, I never saw any +one go down so quickly. I really believe he's +going to propose! If you could have seen his +funny eyes when he told me that there was +something he just <i>had</i> to say to me."</p> + +<p>"For heaven's sake keep it up. It's better +than soap, Mimi. One look at his hands and I +knew he was in love."</p> + +<p>"My dear, what do you think—he's had my +photograph for weeks—the one I gave you, of +course. Now if that isn't a real romance. . . ."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He ought to be spanked, that boy—stealing +away from school!"</p> + +<p>"My dear, he's told me all about his life's +ambitions."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"It's something about a bathtub—some sort +of an invention that's going to revolutionize +the bathtub industry."</p> + +<p>"Then it must be the outside of a bathtub," +said Clara with a sisterly laugh. "Mimi, I +just must hear his proposal."</p> + +<p>"You'll laugh and spoil it all."</p> + +<p>"On my honor!"</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, Miss Mimi Lafontaine put +on her kindliest smile as ushered in by the maid +Mr. John C. Bedelle came magnificently into +the room, spick and span, cool as the cucumber +is credited to be at any temperature; an immaculate +purple tie blooming under an unsullied +collar, with only a slight pollen on the +carefully-divided hair. How was she to know +that, in five minutes, under the sting of betrayed +confidence and broken illusions, a complete +moral transformation had made of the +urchin a man in the embryo, fired by the burning +impulses of the deadliest hatred?</p> + +<p>He did not stumble or wind himself up in the +curtain or upset the bowl of goldfish on the +slight étagère by the sofa. He came in with a +manner that was so completely nonchalant that +Miss Mimi was manifestly impressed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 281px;"> +<img src="images/facing-140.jpg" width="281" height="400" alt=""Really, Jack, I'm beginning to suspect you're an old hand." Page 140" title=""Really, Jack, I'm beginning to suspect you're an old hand." Page 140" /> +<span class="caption">"Really, Jack, I'm beginning to suspect you're an old hand." Page 140</span> +</div> + +<p>"Why, Jack, you don't look as though you +had <i>run</i> at all," she said encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I picked up a buggy and took it easy," +he said, seating himself and arranging the +trouser crease with nicety. Then having perceived +under the sofa the telltale slippers of +Miss Clara Bedelle, he added, "I say, how did +you ever keep it from Sis?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she thinks it's another caller," said +Mimi, staring a little. "Really, Jack, I'm beginning +to suspect you're an old hand."</p> + +<p>"Well, of course this isn't the first time," +he said, leaning back and sinking his fists in his +trousers pockets.</p> + +<p>Miss Mimi gave a gasp of astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Well, I never, and all you said to me too +about the photograph and the letters you tore +up."</p> + +<p>"Did you really believe all that?" said +Skippy with a smile that seemed to cut across +his face. His heart was bursting; yet the task +of revenge was sweet. "You know Sidell and +I are old hunting partners."</p> + +<p>Miss Lafontaine sat upright, forgetting +everybody in the dismay of her discovery.</p> + +<p>"Jack Bedelle, do you mean to say that it +was all fixed up between you two?"</p> + +<p>Again Mr. John C. Bedelle smiled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we know a trick or two, even if we're +still in school."</p> + +<p>Miss Mimi's look was not such as is generally<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +ascribed to the gentler sex. She bit her +lip and said furiously:</p> + +<p>"You just tell Mr. Sidell—" and then, quite +suffocated with rage, she stopped and flung a +little fan, furiously, across the room.</p> + +<p>"Now I see her as she is," thought Skippy +with a healing delight. Aloud he added: "Oh, +if you really want to know the truth about +Sidell, just ask Sis. She probably put him up +to the whole game."</p> + +<p>Now this was rather crude, and at another +time Miss Lafontaine would have detected the +artifice and consequently divined the whole +fabrication, but at present she was quite too +angry, particularly when she realized that her +best friend was a witness to her discomfiture.</p> + +<p>"Just what do you mean by that?" she said +angrily.</p> + +<p>"Why, they've been sweet on each other for +a couple of years," he said, with malice aforethought. +"Guess you're not on to Sis. She'd +steal anything with pants on that came within +a mile of her. Ask her sometime about the +mash notes the plumber's boy used to shoot up +to her window, or perhaps you'd better not, it +gets her too hot. But anyway I advise you to +keep your eyes open." He rose, for the sudden +shifting of the slippers back of the sofa warned +him it was time to depart.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Mimi," he said carelessly. "Two +can play the same game, remember that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then, calculating the moment, he bumped +into the étagère, upsetting the goldfish, and as +the dripping figure of Miss Clara Bedelle +emerged with a scream, Mr. Skippy Bedelle, +Chesterfieldian to the last, departed saying:</p> + +<p>"He laughs best who laughs last."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He arrived at the little stationery shop without +having seen where he had been going, his +eyes blinded with rage, his mind filled with +bitter imprecations. Of his night's infatuation +not a vestige remained except the weakness of +disillusionment and the suffering of a proud +nature.</p> + +<p>"Well, Professor, how was your girl?"</p> + +<p>He looked up to see the dark-complexioned +lady still methodically chewing away.</p> + +<p>"She's like all the rest," he thought darkly, +"fooling some man, I bet."</p> + +<p>Then his eyes fell on a group of photographs +in the shape of postal cards; a wonderful assortment +of fleshlings, of young ladies who dazzle +and display abundant charms before the footlights. +He remembered that an explanation +was due to Snorky, and that the explanation +would have to be very convincing. One photograph +fascinated him; it was so like the way +Tina would look, if there were a Tina!</p> + +<p>The young lady in graceful tights, legs +crossed in a figure four, elbow resting on a +marble column, her chin supported by the index<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +finger, was smiling out at him with a full dental +smile.</p> + +<p>"Say, do a fellow a favor?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Sure for a nice boy like you I will," she +said, encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"Just sign across here—it's a joke."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's a joke?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course. Sign 'Faithfully yours,'—no—'Fondly +yours.'"</p> + +<p>"Fondly yours," said the gum chewer, writing +with a flourish.</p> + +<p>"Tina."</p> + +<p>"T—I—N—A."</p> + +<p>"Turner."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I'll not!" said the girl with sudden +indignation. "Turner's my name, and I can't +have any such picture—"</p> + +<p>"All right, all right, make it 'Tanner' then."</p> + +<p>With the photograph as evidence safely bestowed +in an inner pocket, he set out on the +long homeward trudge. The weakness was +gone, his imagination was now all on the story +he would have to tell Snorky. Heavens, what +had been crowded into one short hour;—love, +treachery, revenge and triumph! Once a sudden +rush of tears caught him, but he fought +down the mood. The test had been soul-trying, +but the victory was his. So he marched along, +blowing out his courage as he chanted a defiant +marching song and if Providence had but endowed +him with a tail, he would have carried it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +proudly like a banner as he stalked across the +campus and found his way into the Kennedy.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" said a startled voice.</p> + +<p>"Hush, it's Skippy."</p> + +<p>"Thank God."</p> + +<p>Snorky jumped up and caught him in his +arms with such genuine emotion that Skippy +was profoundly touched, so touched that he almost +made a clean breast of this affair—almost +but not quite.</p> + +<p>"What happened? You look all shot to +pieces," said Snorky, holding up a candle and +gazing at him in awe.</p> + +<p>"It's all over," said Skippy stonily.</p> + +<p>"Over."</p> + +<p>"She'd have had to give up her career and—and +I'm too young yet to support her."</p> + +<p>"Honest, Skippy?" said Snorky, with a lingering +doubt.</p> + +<p>"Here's all that's left to me now," said +Skippy, and he brought forth the photograph.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Worldly Wisdom of Skippy Bedelle</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>WHEN Skippy Bedelle (rage and disillusionment +in his heart) had tramped five +weary miles back from the city which sheltered +that angel of perfidy, Miss Mimi Lafontaine, +he said to himself on waking the next morning:</div> + +<p>"Well, by the Great Horned Spoon, that's +one thing I won't bite at again." And examining +himself in the glass with a new respect—for +after all he had handled the situation with +magnificent impertinence and if the story was +to be retailed in the home circles it would never +be introduced by Miss Clara Bedelle—examining +himself, then, with a certain pride and +satisfaction he said vaingloriously, "Hurray, +I'm vaccinated!"</p> + +<p>"How d'ye mean vaccinated?" said Snorky +whose head emerged via the morning jersey.</p> + +<p>"Did I say vaccinated?" said Skippy surprised +and cautious.</p> + +<p>"You certainly did," said his chum, who observing +the rapidity of his contact with the +washbasin, the reappearance of the dicky and +the two strokes of the brush which completed +his toilette, added with a sigh of relief, "I say, +old horse, you look more natural."</p> + +<p>Skippy immediately returned to the convenient<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +Tina Tanner. He picked up the statuesquely +posed photograph, contemplated it and +returned it to its place with the air of a man +on whom a great passion has burned itself out.</p> + +<p>"She was an awfully decent little sort," he +said meditatively, "but it would have been an +awful mess if I'd done it."</p> + +<p>"Done what?"</p> + +<p>"Followed her on the stage."</p> + +<p>"Say, whatever made you think you'd succeed +on the stage, you chump?" said Snorky, +who always retained a lingering doubt when +Skippy grew confidential.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know."</p> + +<p>"Well, the way you got off 'Horatius at the +Bridge'—"</p> + +<p>Skippy stretched his arms and yawned deliciously.</p> + +<p>"Gee, but a fellow can make an awful fool +of himself," he said, thinking now not of the +fictitious Tina but of the explanations which +must have taken place between his sister and +Miss Lafontaine.</p> + +<p>"A nice wreck you'd have made of your life, +you big boob," said Snorky taking up the +photograph and smelling it curiously to see +what perfume an actress employed. "So her +name's Tanner, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Her stage name."</p> + +<p>"You couldn't have married a woman like +that."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not a word against her."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow are you vaccinated?"</p> + +<p>"Bitten, vaccinated and cured!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Now when Skippy spoke thus from his heart +it was in absolute faith, without the slightest +suspicion of the natural course which a habit +inevitably must take. A habit is after all but +an acquired appetite, and what appetite was +ever begun with instant enjoyment! No inveterate +smoker ever appreciated his first cigar +and the most persistent of tipplers choked once +over the first distasteful introduction to the +demon rum.</p> + +<p>So be it recorded in this history of the sentimental +progress of Skippy Bedelle. The +impulse which sends the boy back to a second +trial of the cigar that stretched him pale and +nauseated on the ground, or leads him to a new +attempt at the alcoholic mixture which scorched +his throat, alone may explain how it came to +pass that Skippy, after the first disillusioning +contact with the opposite sex in the person of +Miss Mimi Lafontaine, should in the first week +of his summer vacation have fallen under the +despotism of Miss Dolly Travers.</p> + +<p>There were, as will be seen, extenuating circumstances +and perhaps likewise much may be +explained by the instinctive belief which is implanted +in mankind, that woman is twofold, and +that the brunettes of the species are less deadly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +than the blondes, or vice versa, according to the +first contact.</p> + +<p>When Skippy Bedelle arrived for the long +summer vacation at the family home at Gates +Harbor, he arrived with a fixed program which +is here detailed in the order of its importance.</p> + +<p>1. To grow at least two inches and to acquire +an added ten pounds in weight.</p> + +<p>2. To achieve this necessary progression +towards his athletic ambitions, to sleep at least +fourteen hours of the day and to eat steadily +and consistently during the remaining ten.</p> + +<p>3. To impress the governor with the necessity +of increasing his allowance.</p> + +<p>4. To conceal from his mother the devastation +of that portion of his wardrobe which is +not a matter of public display.</p> + +<p>5. To reduce sisters No. 1 and No. 2 to an +attitude of proper respect, consistent with the +approaching dignity of his sixteen years.</p> + +<p>6. To thrash Puffy Ellis for the third consecutive +summer.</p> + +<p>7. To obtain permission for a two weeks' +visit to the home of his chum, Snorky Green.</p> + +<p>In all of which, be it observed that the +feminine portion of society occupied not the +slightest place.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>On a radiant afternoon in mid-June, Skippy, +having finished the last bar of peanut brittle +and made sure that no vestige remained of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +box of assorted chocolates which had preceded +it down the Great Hungry Way, assembled +three comic weeklies and four magazines, gave +the porter a quarter for his ostentatious devotions +and descended at the station, with exactly +seven cents in his pocket, having calculated +his budget to a nicety.</p> + +<p>His patent leathers were in a decidedly +shabby condition and cracked over the instep, +but his brown and green check suit, the yellow +tie and the new panama with the purple and +white band were irreproachably <i>bon ton</i>. He +stood a moment supporting himself on a light +bamboo cane, contemplating his dress suit-case, +which he acknowledged was not up to form. +Not only had the straps rotted away, but there +were strange depressions and bulges in it due +to the Waladoo Bird's two hundred and twenty +pounds having fallen upon it. Furthermore, +it was stained with the marks of a root beer +orgy and Snorky Green's mistaken efforts to +remove the same stains with a pumice stone.</p> + +<p>Skippy after a moment's deliberation, decided +not to insult the hackman with an offer +of seven cents and having consigned the unspeakable +bag to the truckman proceeded on +foot twirling his cane and trying to appear unaware +of the admiration of the villagers who +were particularly impressed by his perfect +pants.</p> + +<p>The Bedelle homestead was a large ornamental,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +turreted and bastioned mansion, consonant +with Mr. Bedelle's increasing prosperity +and Mrs. Bedelle's social importance.</p> + +<p>"Gee, the Governor certainly ought to stand +for a raise," said Skippy to himself, with a +proper appreciation of the velvety lawns, the +flower gardens and the green and white stables. +Then he remembered the none too brilliant +record of the scholastic year which was sure +to come up for discussion and fell into a sudden +despondency.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Girls as an Epidemic</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>AS he turned up the walk, sister No. 2, aged +fourteen and a half, came romping off the +porch and the following conversation took +place.</div> + +<p>"Hello, Jack."</p> + +<p>"Hello, Tootsie."</p> + +<p>"You idiotic boy, why didn't you telegraph?"</p> + +<p>"What's the use? I'm here," said Skippy +to whom a quarter of a dollar was an object of +reverence.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to kiss me?"</p> + +<p>Skippy glanced around.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, he's got a cane!"</p> + +<p>"Say, who let you put your hair up anyhow!"</p> + +<p>"I'm fifteen."</p> + +<p>"Come off."</p> + +<p>"I say, Jack, awful glad to see you, honest, +and let's stop fighting this summer. You help +me and I'll help you."</p> + +<p>Skippy looked at her suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Getting on society airs," he thought, but +out loud he announced: "All right, Tootsie, but +see you don't begin. And if you want to help<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +out, tell the Governor to make my birthday +present in cash. I'm awfully strapped."</p> + +<p>"Now for old Clara," he said to himself and +remembering the last encounter when he had +upset the gold fish over her, he braced himself +for the shock. But to his profound amazement +Miss Bedelle was honey itself.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, Jack, how big you've +grown," she said after he had submitted to the +second sisterly embrace, "and such style, too! +What a fascinating tie! Dad and mother are +out but Sam's just home. Come on up and see +how nicely I've arranged your room. How are +you anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"Hard up," said Skippy instantly.</p> + +<p>"Would this help any?" said Miss Clara +extracting a ten dollar bill from a well-filled +purse.</p> + +<p>Skippy gulped in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"How do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Gee, sis, are you going to be married?"</p> + +<p>"The idea, you funny boy!" said his sister, +blushing violently. "Run on now and see +Sam."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with everyone anyhow?" +said Skippy to himself. "There's a +reason. There certainly is a dark reason."</p> + +<p>Still pondering over the motives for this unaccountable +reception he proceeded along the +hall, to the room of his heart's idol, his brother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +Sam, senior at Yale and star of the nine, Sambones +Bedelle, known at school as Skippy the +first, about whose athletic prowesses the tradition +still remained.</p> + +<p>"Who's that?" said the great man at the +sound of his knock. "Skippy? Come in and +let's look you over."</p> + +<p>"Hello, Sambo," said the young idol-worshipper, +sidling in.</p> + +<p>The older brother caught his hand, slapped +him on the back and held him off for inspection.</p> + +<p>"By Jove, you young rascal, you're sprouting +up fast. Whew, what a suit! Pretty +strong, bub—pretty strong."</p> + +<p>"I say, do you think—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind. I've worn worse. Paid for?"</p> + +<p>"No-o—not yet."</p> + +<p>"Anything left of the allowance?"</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>"Not possible!"</p> + +<p>"Seven cents."</p> + +<p>"Could you use a five spot?"</p> + +<p>"Gee, Sam!"</p> + +<p>"All right, all right. Pick it out over there +on the bureau. How's your conduct?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty good."</p> + +<p>Skippy, perched on the window-seat, watched +with an approving eye the splendors that a +college education had bestowed. Sam's hair +parted without a rebellious ripple and lay down +in perfect discipline. There never were such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +immaculate white flannel trousers, such faultless +buckskin shoes and tie, while the socks and +the touch of handkerchief which bloomed from +the breastpocket were a perfect electric blue.</p> + +<p>"Well, Skippy, I'll have to look you over," +said Sam carelessly. "Time you had a few +pointers. What did you do at school?"</p> + +<p>"Substitute on the eleven and left field on +the house nine," said Skippy, who understood +at once the meaning of such an inquiry.</p> + +<p>"First rate. Haven't started on the demon +cigarette yet?"</p> + +<p>Skippy hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Let's see your fingers," said the mentor, +who perceiving no telltales traces of nicotine +grunted a qualified approval. "Well, how +much?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, just a few whiffs now and then up the +ventilator. You know how it is, Sambo!"</p> + +<p>"Cut it out this summer. Your business is +to grow. Savvy? If ever I catch you, you +young whipper-snapper—"</p> + +<p>"All right, Sam."</p> + +<p>Skippy the first held him a moment with a +stern and disciplinary eye and then relaxing, +said as he contemplated the hang of his trousers +before the mirror, "I hear you've started in +to be a fusser."</p> + +<p>"Who told you that?" said Skippy with the +rising inflection.</p> + +<p>"I ran in on Turkey Reiter."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh," said Skippy relaxing. "With Miss +Lafontaine? That was all a put-up game!"</p> + +<p>Sam considered him and noting the fatuous +smile shook his head and said:</p> + +<p>"Well, bub, you're at the age when they fall +fast and easy. Now listen to a few pearls of +wisdom. Got your ears open?"</p> + +<p>"Fire away, Sambo!"</p> + +<p>"If you've <i>got</i> to fall and you will—sure +you will, don't shake your head—if you've +got to fall, don't trail around on an old woman's +skirts and get treated like a dog—fetch and +carry stuff. Look the field over and pick out +something young and grateful. Something +easy. Something that'll look up to you. Let +her love you. Be a hero. Savvy?"</p> + +<p>"Huh! Girls give me a swift pain," said +Skippy with a curl of his upper lip.</p> + +<p>"Wait and count the pains," said Sam with +a grin. "You're at a bad age. Well, I have +spoken. What's the use of having an older +brother if he can't do you some good?"</p> + +<p>It being only four o'clock, Skippy decided to +look up the Gutter Pup, who with the Egghead, +represented the school contingent at Gates +Harbor. Lazelle, more familiarly known as the +Gutter Pup, Gazelle, Razzle-dazzle and the +White Mountain Canary according to the fighting +weight of the addressee, lived just across +lots.</p> + +<p>With three months' respite ahead from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +tyranny of the chapel bell, three months of +home cooking, fifteen dollars in his pocket and +nothing to do but to romp like a colt over pastures +of his own choosing, Skippy went hilariously +over the lawns, hurdled a hedge and +hallooed from below the well-known window.</p> + +<p>"Hi there, old Razzle-Dazzle, stick your head +out!"</p> + +<p>A second and a third peremptory summons +bringing no response, he went cautiously +around the porch.</p> + +<p>"Why it's Jack Bedelle," said the Gutter +Pup's sister from a hammock. "Gracious, I +never should have known you!"</p> + +<p>"Hello yourself," said Skippy, acknowledging +with a start the difference a year had +brought to the tomboy he had known. "Say, +you've done some growing up yourself."</p> + +<p>He ended in a long drawn out whistle which +Miss Lazelle smilingly accepted as a tribute.</p> + +<p>"I say, Bess, where's the old Gazelle?"</p> + +<p>"Charlie? Why he's gone out canoeing +with Kitty Rogers."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>Miss Lazelle repeated the information. +Skippy was too astounded to remember his +manners. He clapped his hat on his head, sunk +his fists in his pockets and went out the gate. +The Gutter Pup spending his time like that! +He made his way to the club where more shocks +awaited him. On the porch was the Egghead<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +feeding ice cream to Mimi Lafontaine. On the +tennis courts Puffy Ellis and Tacks Brooker +were playing mixed doubles! Skippy could not +believe his eyes. What sort of an epidemic +was this anyhow? He went inside and immediately +a victrola started up a two-step +and lo and behold, there before him whirling +ecstatically about the floor, held in feminine +embraces, were Happy Mather and Joe Crocker, +the irreconcilables of the old gang!</p> + +<p>"Hello, Skippy, shake a foot," said Happy +Mather encouragingly. "Want to be introduced?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," said Skippy loftily. "What's +happened to the crowd? Can't you think of +anything better than wasting your time like +this?"</p> + +<p>"Wake up!" said Happy, making a dive for +a partner. "You're walking in your sleep."</p> + +<p>Skippy went sadly out and down to the +bridge where he perched on a pile and contemplated +the swirling currents with melancholy. +What had happened? After an hour of +bitter rumination he rose heavily and engrossed +in his own thoughts passed two ice-cream +parlors, utterly forgetful of the sudden +wealth in his pockets. On the way home he +perceived something white and pink moving +lightly in airy freedom, while at her side laden +to the shoulder with sweaters, rugs, a camp +stool and a beach umbrella was Sam. He came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +rebelliously to the home porch and then hastily +ducked around to the side entrance, for the +porch was in full possession of Clara who was +entertaining a group of men. He sought to +gain his room noiselessly via the back parlor +and came full upon Tootsie who was showing +a book of photographs to a pudgy, red-haired +boy, who blushed violently at his intrusion and +stood up, until he had acknowledged the embarrassed +introduction and escaped.</p> + +<p>"What in thunder's gotten into everybody +anyhow?" he said to himself disconsolately. +"Girls, girls everywhere. The place is full of +them and everybody twosing, twosing! What +in Sam Hill is a regular fellow to do! Gee, but +it's going to be a rotten summer!"</p> + +<p>So in this melancholy seclusion, gazing out of +his window, at the green landscape vexed by +the omnipresent flash of white skirts, uneasily +conscious that a crisis had arrived in his social +progress that would have to be met, Skippy +began to commune with himself and likewise +to ruminate. His first contact with female +perfidy had destroyed half his faith in woman; +never again could he trust a brunette. Some +day he might permit himself to be appreciated +by a blonde, but it would take a lot of convincing. +But it is one thing to have fixed principles +and another to resist the contagions of a whole +society. Virtue is one thing but loneliness is +another.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What the deuce is a regular fellow going to +do?" he said. But already his resentment had +given way to a brooding anxiety. All at once, +he remembered that he too had loved. Something +that had been dormant awoke, as the +touch of spring awoke the great outdoors.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"For I must love some one,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And it may as well be you."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>The refrain haunted him. Had the time +come when even he would have to descend?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Blonde of the Species</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>SUNDAY was a nerve-racking problem in +days when the New England tradition still +held. There was no fishing, no tennis, no baseball, +and no golf. Picnics were taboo. There +was of course a large amount of eating to be +done, but after fish-balls, griddle cakes, and +pork and beans for breakfast, a heavy sermon, +and a heavier roast beef for dinner, the long +afternoon had to be lived through in a sort of +penitential expiation. One dozen fed-to-bursting, +painfully primped young human colts, +ranging from fifteen to seventeen years of age, +gathered in the Gutter Pup's barn and mournfully +debated the eternal question of what to do.</div> + +<p>"It's too cold to sneak up to the old swimming +hole," said Tacks disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"Why not have a few rounds with the +mitts?" said the Gutter Pup eagerly.</p> + +<p>"In these duds?" said Happy Mather, who +preferred to stand because when he sat down +the Sunday collar pinched his throat. "Nothing +doing! Thank you, but my governer's hand +is still strong!"</p> + +<p>"We might organize a Browning Society," +said Puffy Ellis, who came from Boston.</p> + +<p>"Bright boy!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, well, since we 're all dressed up and +nowhere to go, we might as well do the society +racket and call on the sweet things."</p> + +<p>"Girls!" said Skippy, sarcastically. "My +aunt's cat's pants! Joe, what's got into you! +You used to be human last summer. Girls! +Girls! I vote we all go out and pick a +bunch of dandelions for Joe Crocker to carry +round."</p> + +<p>"Hold up," said the Gutter Pup. "You give +me an idea."</p> + +<p>"If it's got anything to do with skirts," said +Skippy, "au revoir and likewise good-by. I +resign."</p> + +<p>"Shut up! When Razzle-dazzle starts to +think, give him a chance," said Happy Mather. +"Who asked your opinion? You're nothing +but a tadpole, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Well, what's the idea?" said Tacks.</p> + +<p>"It's a good one," said the Gutter Pup +slowly. "It's a gag we used to pull off in the +old Murray Hill Gang, the winter I put Spider +Martin away in seven rounds. Spider was no +great shakes with the mitts but he had some +bright ideas. This is one of them. How many +are we?"</p> + +<p>"Twelve."</p> + +<p>"Just right. Only it's got to be played dead +serious, no horseplay, kiddin', or rough stuff."</p> + +<p>Just half an hour later Miss Connie Brown, +aged sixteen, who was yawning over a novel on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +the chaise-<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'longue'">lounge</ins> of her bedroom, was electrified +into action by the announcement that two +gentlemen callers were waiting for her in the +parlor. Miss Connie was in excellent health, +weighing one hundred and sixty pounds, rather +freckled, and quite accustomed to watch her +girl friends enjoying themselves in the ballroom. +She bounded down the stairs and arrived, +slightly out of breath, to find the Gutter +Pup and Skippy stiffly erect.</p> + +<p>"Allow me to present my friend, Mr. Bedelle!" +said the Gutter Pup in the correct tones +of an undertaker.</p> + +<p>Miss Connie shook hands vigorously and +said, beaming with surprised delight:</p> + +<p>"I think it's just too darling of you to drop +in. Every one's out and I was trying to read a +poky old book. We'll have tea and there's +some chocolate cake left. Course I know your +sister, Mr. Bedelle. I think she's just the +dandiest girl."</p> + +<p>"I hope your father and mother are well," +said Skippy gravely.</p> + +<p>"What? Oh, yes! They're all right. Let's +be cozy and camp down over here."</p> + +<p>"And your sister?" said the Gutter Pup with +equal punctiliousness.</p> + +<p>"Sis? Oh, she's fine and dandy," said Miss +Connie, curling up on the sofa, after lighting +the lamp under the tea kettle.</p> + +<p>Skippy and the Gutter Pup after this irreproachable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +beginning, sat up stiffly and, retiring +into a set silence, stared very hard at +their hostess.</p> + +<p>"You'll have a bit of chocolate cake, won't +you?" said the young lady, wondering how to +open the conversation.</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>"And you, Mr. Bedelle?"</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>At this moment the bell rang and the maid +announced:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Mather and Mr. Crocker callin' on you, +Miss Connie."</p> + +<p>Miss Brown could not believe her ears. Such +a thing had never happened before, even in her +happiest dreams. If her sister could only see +her now! She gave a hurried calculating glance +at the chocolate cake and went joyfully more +than halfway to meet the new arrivals. The +four conspirators, after formal greetings, +ranged themselves in a semicircle, stiffly balanced +on the edges of their chairs, hands on +their knees, and waited for their hostess to play +with the conversation.</p> + +<p>"Did you see Maude Adams in her new piece +this spring?" said Miss Connie, who began to +fidget with the cups and carefully cut the cake +into five exact divisions.</p> + +<p>As this question was addressed to the company +in general, the four visitors maintained a +frozen attention.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm just crazy about Maude Adams. I +went three times," said Miss Connie, who +found that five teacups choked up the table in +the most disconcerting way. "You like Maude +Adams, don't you—er—Mr. Mather?"</p> + +<p>"I like Maude Adams."</p> + +<p>"And you, Mr. Brooker?"</p> + +<p>"I like Maude Adams."</p> + +<p>Miss Connie was staring at the teapot desperately, +seeking for some new topic of conversation, +when again the bell rang and two more +callers were announced. Miss Connie's Cinderella-like +enthusiasm gave way to a feeling of +panic. She whispered hoarsely to the maid to +bring two more cups and surreptitiously made +a new allotment of the chocolate cake. The new +arrivals inquired solemnly after the health of +Miss Connie's mother, father and sister, and +then joined the expectant silence. When the +young lady in turn had discovered that the +new callers liked Maude Adams, all mental processes +came to an end and the sound of the clock +from the mantel fell like the blows of a hammer +in the room.</p> + +<p>When the fourth relay arrived, her complexion +took on a bright red tinge and her agitation +was such that she poured the cream into the +cake and broke two cups.</p> + +<p>"Did you see her!" said the Gutter Pup +ecstatically, after they had allowed the pent-up +hilarity to die out behind the sheltering hedge.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +"Skippy, old top, when that last bunch arrived, +I thought she certainly was going down for the +count."</p> + +<p>"Her eyes were jumping and she was breathing +like a horse."</p> + +<p>"Well, how do you like the idea?"</p> + +<p>"Best Sunday afternoon I ever spent."</p> + +<p>"Where away now?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to work it on Tootsie."</p> + +<p>"Hold up—my sister needs it more than +yours."</p> + +<p>The point was debated and as no decision +could be reached it was decided to keep to the +regular program. The afternoon was a huge +success from the point of view of the male +phalanx. The destruction was enormous. One +or two young ladies held out until the fifth relay +but almost collapsed at the fourth.</p> + +<p>"'Course they'll all get together to-morrow +and have it in for us," said the Gutter Pup, +chortling. "But never mind, it was worth it. +Did you ever see anything as idiotically solemn +as Tacks Brooker? When he arrives they certainly +throw up the sponge."</p> + +<p>"Have we time for another?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, it's only a quarter of six. We'll put +this one over hard, for she certainly needs taking +down."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Dolly Travers. Don't know her? You +will."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Dolly Travers received them with the +manner of a Dresden shepherdess just stepping +from the mantelpiece and Skippy took the petite +hand gingerly, as though afraid that anything +so delicate and brittle would break at the touch. +The voice of his brother's worldly wisdom +seemed to sound in his ears:</p> + +<p>"Pick out something young and grateful. +Be a hero."</p> + +<p>Miss Travers was undeniably young, if artful, +and moreover she was not of the dark +and deceptive class of brunettes, but a blonde, +with eyes as open and guileless as the blue of +the June day. She had solved the problem of +the classification which as naturally marks the +feminine progress as long trousers indicates +the man, by bobbing her hair; and, though the +subterfuge seemed to afford much amusement +to certain of her sex, it immediately separated +her from the pigtails.</p> + +<p>There was something about her that appealed +instantly to Skippy and inspired confidence, +something cool and dainty and at ease. +She did not express either surprise or excessive +delight at their entrance. There was something +simple and frank about everything she did. He +appreciated it and fell to wishing that Tootsie +would be more like her, less coquettish and +more of a good comrade.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you know?" said Dolly, looking +at the Gutter Pup.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"I hope your mother and father are well," +said Skippy, true to the formula.</p> + +<p>"Gracious! Are you trying to make conversation?" +said Dolly, beginning to laugh, "Don't +sit on the edge of your chairs, boys, like monkeys +on a stick; sit back and be comfortable."</p> + +<p>Happy Mather and Tacks appeared with +gloomy ceremony.</p> + +<p>"Is this the first time you ever paid a call?" +said the young lady when Happy had opened +the question of the family health. "What is +the matter with you boys? You look too ridiculous +for words; sit back, stick your hands in +your pockets, and look natural."</p> + +<p>Again the bell rang and the sounds of the +third relay were heard in the hall. Miss Dolly +glanced quickly at the four solemnities and then +suspiciously out of the window where relays +four and five were lurking under the trees, +suppressed a smile, and came to a sudden decision.</p> + +<p>"My mother and father are in perfect health, +my sister is in perfect health, how are yours?" +she said, as Puffy Ellis started to clear his +throat. "No, no, don't sit down. You're much +too imposing. Mr. Crocker, you take one side +of the fireplace and Mr. Ellis the other, and +please don't look so gawky. You aren't really +afraid of one little girl, are you? And by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +way, Charlie Lazelle, go out on the porch and +call in the others."</p> + +<p>"Others?" said the Gutter Pup, trying to +save the day by his cat-and-cream expression.</p> + +<p>"The others who are hiding under the willow," +said Dolly lightly. "Hurry up, because +it's six o'clock and Daddy will be back any +moment. He's such a bear about the boys I +go with. It's a marvelous chance for him to +look you over. Joe Crocker, sit down at the +piano."</p> + +<p>"On Sunday?" said Joe, startled out of his +attitude.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, we're not going to dance. +We're going to make a good impression on +father."</p> + +<p>When Mr. Travers drew up ten minutes later +he beheld eleven sheepish young gentlemen +huddled in a circle in the middle of the parlor +intoning from hymnbooks the measures +which Joe Crocker pounded out from the piano +under the solemn inspection of Miss Dolly +Travers.</p> + +<p>"Great heavens! What's this?" said Mr. +Travers, who was the most unorthodox of men. +"What in mischief are you up to now?"</p> + +<p>"It's my Sunday School class," said the +young lady, with difficult seriousness. "We're +meeting every week. It won't annoy you too +much, will it, father?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Result of a Brother's Advice</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THE first dance of the summer took place the +following Saturday, and the entire feminine +contingent immediately declared war on Miss +Dolly Travers, who entered escorted by four +cavaliers and subdivided each dance.</div> + +<p>While others more fortunately endowed with +rhythmic feet swayed and circled about the +ballroom with the little Dresden china blonde, +Skippy, who guarded in his arms a pink and +white filmy scarf, glowered across the vacant +chair at Puffy Ellis, who had been favored with +the safekeeping of the favorite's fan.</p> + +<p>"Jack, you're perfectly ridiculous," said +Sister Clara, who did not relish the competition. +"The idea of making a fool of yourself +over a child of twelve that ought to be in bed +long ago. Haven't you any pride?"</p> + +<p>"Kitty, kitty," said Skippy softly. He could +not be bothered with such things as sisters. +His mind was made up. He glared over at +Puffy and said to himself: "To-night I'll give +him his choice. Either he gets off the horizon, +or I tear the hide off him."</p> + +<p>He would protect his rights in the good old-fashioned +way, even if he had to thrash a dozen +of them!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, Jack!" said Dolly, whirling up at this +moment, and sinking back into the scarf which +he hurriedly draped about her. "You look like +blood and thunder. You're not jealous, are +you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!"</p> + +<p>"Well then?"</p> + +<p>"Why did you give Puffy Ellis that fan?"</p> + +<p>"Poor Puffy! He doesn't dance, either."</p> + +<p>"Lord, I'll dance by next Saturday," said +Skippy miserably, "or break a leg."</p> + +<p>"Foolish boy, of course you must dance! If +I sit this out with you, will it make you feel any +better?"</p> + +<p>"Will it!"</p> + +<p>"We'll go on the porch and you'll try a one-step. +Oh, no one will see. Gracious! Don't +look so terrified."</p> + +<p>Skippy's answer was something between a +gulp and a gurgle.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want <i>me</i> to teach you?" said +Dolly in the velvetiest voice in the world.</p> + +<p>"I'll try; I'll try anything you say," he +said, breathing hard, "only I say, Dolly, remember +a cart-horse has done more dancing +than I ever have."</p> + +<p>"The two-step is frightfully easy—you'll +see," said the young lady when they had +reached the dark end of the piazza. "It's just +one-two to music. Put your arm around me!"</p> + +<p>"What?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You goose! How can you dance if you +don't?" said Dolly in a cool professional manner. +"Take my hand. So! Now just walk in +rhythm."</p> + +<p>When Skippy for the first time in his life had +actually closed his arm around a feminine waist +and clutched at the outstretched hand, he +had a sensation of terrifying dizziness, such as +had once overcome him when on a dare he had +poised himself thirty feet in the air for his first +high dive.</p> + +<p>"Begin! One, two, left foot, to the music!"</p> + +<p>Skippy blindly and obediently began to walk. +He walked all over the little feet. He walked +on his own. He walked into a chair and ricocheted +from a table with a bump that bounced +them off the railing.</p> + +<p>"That's enough!" said Dolly in a slightly +discouraged voice. "Gracious! You mustn't +grab me like that. You're not drowning."</p> + +<p>"Drowning's nothing to this," said Skippy, +rubbing his forehead. "You see it's hopeless."</p> + +<p>"Of course it isn't hopeless. If that great +big lummox of a Tacks Brooker can dance +aren't you ashamed of yourself to give up like +that?"</p> + +<p>"I'll never dance another step," said Skippy +sulkily.</p> + +<p>"The idea, Jack Bedelle! I want you to +dance, and dance you shall!" said Dolly, stamping +her foot. "Do you understand?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 275px;"> +<img src="images/facing-172.jpg" width="275" height="400" alt="He balanced carefully, stretched out one arm to encircle an imaginary waist. Page 172" title="e balanced carefully, stretched out one arm to encircle an imaginary waist. Page 172" /> +<span class="caption">He balanced carefully, stretched out one arm to encircle an imaginary waist. Page 172</span> +</div> + +<p>"Don't rub it in, Dolly."</p> + +<p>"Foolish boy!" said the young lady, squeezing +his arm. "Do you think I want to dance +all summer long with <i>other</i> men?"</p> + +<p>Three-quarters of an hour later Skippy +again, but alone, reached the protecting +shadows. Again the orchestra was beating out +an exhilarating measure.</p> + +<p>"You bet I'm not going to let her dance with +other men," he said under his breath. He +balanced carefully, stretched out one arm to encircle +an imaginary waist and started heavily +to tread the illusive measure. Suddenly he +realized that he was not alone. Farther down +a couple were swaying in the shadows. Then +Dolly's voice reached him.</p> + +<p>"The idea! Puffy, of course you can dance. +If Jack Bedelle can learn, you ought to be +ashamed to give up."</p> + +<p>"Skippy dance!"</p> + +<p>"Of course, foolish boy! Do you want to +sit and watch him dance with me <i>all</i> summer?"</p> + +<p>That evening after he had escorted the triumphant +Dolly Travers home in company of four +other victims, Skippy went heavily upward to +his room.</p> + +<p>"Hello there!" said the big brother from +his bed.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Sambo," said Skippy, slinking in +disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, bub? You look like a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +plucked chicken. You've been moping around +for a week. What is the matter with you anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" said Skippy, staring +at him.</p> + +<p>"Exactly, what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"The matter is, I took your advice," said +Skippy reproachfully. "You told me to pick +out something young and easy."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I did it," said Skippy, who then, +without noticing Mr. Sam's growing interest, +began to unburden himself.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Three days later, about five in the afternoon, +Skippy emerged from behind the Gutter Pup's +barn, leaving Mr. Puffy Ellis to readjust himself +with more painful leisure. Skippy was +somewhat bruised himself, and his clothes were +a sight to behold, but he was happy. Mr. Puffy +Ellis had finally seen the light and one obstacle +at least had been removed from the summer.</p> + +<p>"I may not be much shakes on my feet as +yet," said Skippy to himself grimly, "but +thank the Lord I can use my fists." He remembered +certain gorgeous passages in "The +Count of Monte Cristo" and, thinking of what +still remained to be done, said tragically, "So +much for <i>one!</i>"</p> + +<p>Suddenly, in front of the Travers home, he +beheld a buckboard draw up, and as with rising<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +anger he pressed forward for a view of the next +rival, Miss Dolly Travers tripped down, gave +her hand delightedly, and sprang to the seat.</p> + +<p>Another rival, another Puffy Ellis to crush! +Unmindful of anything but his consuming jealousy, +he strode forward, fists doubled and +glowering. The next moment the carriage had +swung up and passed him. Miss Dolly Travers, +blissfully entranced with her new conquest, had +not even noticed him, standing there humbly in +the road! But worse than that—oh, perfidy +of perfidies—at the reins was no other than +the great man of the university, his brother Mr. +Sambones Bedelle!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Antics of a Talking Machine</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>TOOTSIE BEDELLE, in the days following +the opening of the summer season at Gates +Harbor, was considerably mystified by the actions +of the family phonograph. Now while a +talking machine is admittedly endowed with one +human attribute, it is supposed to be a talking +and not a walking machine. Yet unless it were +endowed with motive power, how explain the +sudden oddities of its appearances and disappearances?</div> + +<p>The evening after the first hop at the club, +Tootsie broke upon the family dinner table +with the frantic announcement:</p> + +<p>"The phonograph's gone! Stolen!"</p> + +<p>"Stolen!" said Skippy incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Stolen!" said Mr. Bedelle with his eat 'em +alive expression.</p> + +<p>"Why it was there this morning," said +Clara.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's not there now and it wasn't +there this afternoon!"</p> + +<p>The entire Bedelle family broke for the parlor. +There in its accustomed corner was the +phonograph. When quiet had been restored +Tootsie again announced.</p> + +<p>"It was <i>not</i> there this afternoon!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who was there, Tootsie dear?" said Clara +maliciously.</p> + +<p>Tootsie's reply woke up Mr. Bedelle, who +considered himself a nervous dyspeptic and, being +already in a state of antidigestive excitation, +glowered and imposed silence on the entire +younger generation.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's <i>my</i> phonograph, anyhow!" said +Tootsie sulkily, and dinner over she hastened +to the parlor. The phonograph was still there. +She went to bed a little shaken in her convictions. +But the next morning, returning early +from the beach, she happened to glance into the +parlor. The phonograph had disappeared +again! Tootsie could not believe her eyes. She +advanced cautiously and felt with both hands, +but her groping fingers encountered nothing +but thin air. Then she searched behind the +curtains, moved the furniture and opened all +the hall closets. There was no question about +it this time, the phonograph certainly had +vanished from the house!</p> + +<p>Half an hour later, as Mr. and Mrs. Bedelle +were sauntering back from the morning plunge, +the frantic figure of Miss Tootsie came flying +down the road.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, Tootsie! What <i>has</i> happened?" +exclaimed Mrs. Bedelle, trying to +remember whether the dioxygen and the bandages +had been unpacked.</p> + +<p>"It's gone!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Gone? What, who, where?"</p> + +<p>"The phonograph's gone again."</p> + +<p>"Now Tootsie," said Mr. Bedelle, elevating +a cautionary finger.</p> + +<p>"Don't agitate yourself, John," said Mrs. +Bedelle.</p> + +<p>"Father, it is gone! I saw it!"</p> + +<p>"Saw it?"</p> + +<p>"I mean I saw it wasn't there and I searched +everywhere. I saw it with my own eyes," said +Tootsie incoherently, and between rage and +tears she repeated her account in a manner to +be completely unintelligible. Mr. Bedelle was +a theorist afflicted with indigestion. He carefully +selected his diet with due regard for +starch values and never ate a raw tomato without +first carefully removing the seeds. He was +likewise particularly careful never to sit down +to a process of digestion in an agitated mood. +His irritation therefore considerably aggravated +by his daughter's case of nerves, he +hastened on to the house.</p> + +<p>"I looked everywhere, Daddy, honest I did +and it—" Suddenly Tootsie stopped and her +jaw fell. There in its accustomed place, reposing +on the table, was the phonograph.</p> + +<p>"Tootsie!" said Mr. Bedelle in puffy rage.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Daddy."</p> + +<p>"Go to that machine. Put your hand on it. +Feel it. Is it or is it not a phonograph?"</p> + +<p>"It is."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is it yours?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Daddy."</p> + +<p>"Write out fifty times 'I must not get excited +before mealtime,' Don't leave the house until +you have done it."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Daddy."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bedelle went to his easy-chair on the +back porch and began to fan himself. Tootsie, +staring at the phonograph, began seriously to +consider. Her suspicions were aroused and her +first suspicion was the instinctive one of sister +to sister.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious! I believe the child thinks +I did it," said Clara, at luncheon, after Tootsie's +stare had remained in fixed accusation +upon her.</p> + +<p>"Not a word! Not another word about that +phonograph," said Mr. Bedelle wrathfully, "If +this whole family has got to be upset every time +I sit down to the table, I will have the whole +thing made into mincemeat."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's my phonograph," said Tootsie +sullenly, and immediately departed for her +room—by request.</p> + +<p>For two days the phonograph remained +quiescent, but about this time Miss Clara Bedelle +announced that some one had been tampering +with her figure.</p> + +<p>"Your figure, Clara? How shocking!" said +the older brother.</p> + +<p>"My dressmaker's figure, and what's more,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +some one," said Clara, looking hard at Tootsie, +"<i>Some one</i> has been in my closet and disturbed +my dresses!"</p> + +<p>"How <i>very</i> strange," said Tootsie sarcastically. +"Are you sure it isn't your imagination—child?"</p> + +<p>"And I know who did it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you know, too, who stole my +phonograph," said Tootsie angrily.</p> + +<p>The next afternoon the phonograph departed +for four hours. Tootsie searched her sister's +bedroom and then called Skippy into consultation.</p> + +<p>"It's Clara all right," said Skippy. "We +must set a watch on her."</p> + +<p>"She has a mean and spiteful nature. She +does it just to get me punished."</p> + +<p>"Leave it to me."</p> + +<p>"What will you do?"</p> + +<p>"Say, what's it worth?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"What do I get if I catch her red hot?"</p> + +<p>"I'll give a dollar," said Tootsie recklessly.</p> + +<p>"That's too much," said Skippy, with an +appearance of generosity. "I'll sleuth for a +quarter a day. Cash in advance. But my +orders go. Savvy?"</p> + +<p>Tootsie paid down the fee, and following instructions +departed next morning with the +family for the beach, while Skippy, returning +across lots, wriggled on his stomach over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +lawn and slipped into the house by the cellar +window. For three days Tootsie duly paid out +her quarter and received the most comforting +of reports. On the fourth day, however, a discussion +arose.</p> + +<p>"'Course if you sit there, no one's goin' to +come," she said, fingering her last quarter. "I +know it's Clara by the look in her eyes."</p> + +<p>"Sit there! What kind of a sleuth do you +think I am?" he said indignantly. "Look here. +See that phonograph—see anything queer +about it? Pick it up."</p> + +<p>Instantly the grating sounds of a dinner bell +were heard and a horrible crash.</p> + +<p>"Lookout! Don't drop it, you chump! See +that string that passes down the back of the +wall and into the closet?" said Skippy, proudly +exhibiting a patent alarm which he had constructed +with the aid of a delicately balanced +dishpan. "I'm in the dining-room under the +table. Well what?"</p> + +<p>"Heavens! If Daddy ever sets that off!"</p> + +<p>"He won't. You bet, I'll see to that," said +Skippy hastily. "Well what? Do I get another +quarter?"</p> + +<p>There was a slight mental indecision after +which the quarter came reluctantly to the detective. +Tootsie went thoughtfully down to the +beach. The new method did redound to the +stability of the phonograph, but was Skippy +really working as rapidly as he could?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I should have offered a dollar and no +more," said Tootsie to herself. "If this keeps +up I'll be broke in a week."</p> + +<p>So distressing was this outlook, that her +mind refused to be diverted, and after a brief +hesitation she returned to the house, intent +on a more satisfactory financial arrangement. +Now Tootsie was as fond of mystery stories +as Skippy himself, and so with due regard to +etiquette she dodged down the hedge, slunk +behind the lilacs, and noiselessly let herself +into the dining-room window. Then, cautiously, +on hands and knees, she approached +the mysteries of the dining-room table, behind +the red cloth of which Skippy was to be waiting.</p> + +<p>"Hist! It's me," she said in a wary whisper. +Then, having consumed ten minutes in +moving six feet serpent fashion across the +creaky floor, she gained the table. Skippy was +not there. She rose violently, bumping her +head, scrambled out and rushed into the parlor. +The phonograph likewise had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"He's on the trail at last," she thought excitedly. +"Hurray!"</p> + +<p>But at that precise moment the strangest of +strange, uncanny sounds was heard. Tootsie +stood stock still and listened with a pumping +heart. There was no question about it, the +phonograph was gone, yet faintly, like a sinking +moan, she heard, she was sure she heard, the +thin, tinny sounds of a Sousa two-step. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +room was dim, the house deserted. For one +brief moment she stood panic-stricken, poised +for flight. Then she shook her head angrily.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 306px;"> +<img src="images/facing-182.jpg" width="306" height="400" alt="The partner of his arms, escaping, rolled over towards Tootsie. Page 182" title="The partner of his arms, escaping, rolled over towards Tootsie. Page 182" /> +<span class="caption">The partner of his arms, escaping, rolled over towards Tootsie. Page 182</span> +</div> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks, phonographs don't have +ghosts!"</p> + +<p>And listening more intently, she gradually +located the familiar strains as coming from the +distant carriage house. In a fever of expectancy +Tootsie flew across the lawns and gained the +open door. Above her the phonograph was +pumping out the thrilling measures of the latest +two-step, but what puzzled her immediately +were the scuffling, shifting sounds, like a scurry +of rats, which accompanied it. Then a suspicion +of the truth came to her and she tiptoed +up the stairs. On the open floor Skippy with +his arms about a strange shape was painfully +treading in and out of a maze which, with a +bench, a barrel and two chairs, he had arranged +to visualize the perils of the ballroom.</p> + +<p>"Thief!"</p> + +<p>Skippy started, shied into the bench and went +over backwards while the partner of his arms, +escaping, rolled over towards Tootsie, discovering +under Clara's best organdie dress the +net-work of wire which made up the missing +dressmaker's form!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Containing Some High Melodrama</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THERE are great moments in life when the +acquired veneer of society drops away and +human beings revert to type. Tootsie lay down +on her back and kicked her legs in the air, howling +with glee. Skippy, disentangling himself +from the bench, rose with slow deliberation. +He saw that he faced a crisis. If Tootsie, now +rolling before him in hysterical agony, ever +was allowed to tell such a story as this, there +would be no future for John C. Bedelle but to +ship before the mast. Skippy thought hard and +Skippy had the instincts of a diplomat. He decided +to begin with a light conciliatory manner.</div> + +<p>"Well, Tootsie, old girl, you've got the +goods on me. What's your price?"</p> + +<p>Tootsie's reply was a succession of hysterical +gasps that sounded like a child with the +whooping cough laughing over a comic section.</p> + +<p>"What's your price?" Skippy repeated +more firmly, but striving to maintain a sickly +smile.</p> + +<p>"OW! OW! OW!" said Tootsie, holding in +her sides.</p> + +<p>Skippy began to be alarmed. He thought a +moment and then carefully removed the dressmaker's +form and hid it behind a packing-case.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +But the sight of Skippy's dancing companion +brought forth a fresh attack of hysterics. Then +he had recourse to water and a dripping oily +sponge. The sight of this so affected Tootsie +that she rose precipitately and staggered to a +chair. Skippy at once abandoned the sponge +and sympathetically proffered his handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"It's goin' to cost me a lot of money," he +thought, considering her with anxiety. He had +fifteen dollars stowed away with the intention +of adding it to the cash returns of his approaching +birthday and acquiring his first dress suit. +He made a mental surrender and advancing to +the somewhat calmer Tootsie, a third time +asked:</p> + +<p>"Well, come on! What's your price?"</p> + +<p>"Thief!" said Tootsie, all at once remembering +her grievance.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say, can't you take a joke?"</p> + +<p>"A joke! Wait'll I get even with you, Mr. +Smarty!"</p> + +<p>"Go easy. Name your terms."</p> + +<p>"And I paid you to watch it!" said Tootsie, +whose anger began to rise as her respiration +returned.</p> + +<p>Skippy mournfully admitted to himself that +this had been an unnecessary aggravation.</p> + +<p>"Shucks! You didn't think I was going to +keep the money, did you?" he said, bringing +out a dollar bill and tendering it humbly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> + +<p>Tootsie put the bill from her with the gesture +of a tragedy queen, stood up, straightened her +skirt and said:</p> + +<p>"Just you wait, thief!"</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"My business."</p> + +<p>"You're not going to tell?" said Skippy, +who had no doubt of her intention.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear no! Oh no indeed!" said Tootsie, +moving to depart.</p> + +<p>Skippy sprang ahead, slammed the door, +locked it and pocketed the key.</p> + +<p>"What good does that do?" said Tootsie +disdainfully.</p> + +<p>"You'll not leave this room until you swear +a solemn oath," said Skippy desperately.</p> + +<p>"All right, I guess I can wait if you can," +said Tootsie, settling down. "But I pity you +when Dad gets hold of you—thief!"</p> + +<p>Skippy deliberated, resolved on anything +short of murder to stifle the threatening exposure. +Sterner methods were necessary. All at +once his eye spied a coil of rope in the corner +and he sprang to it with a shout.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" said Tootsie +wrathfully.</p> + +<p>"I am going to tie and gag and leave you +to starve," said Skippy, swinging a lasso.</p> + +<p>There was a short and painful tussle in which +his necktie was torn to shreds and he surrendered +a certain amount of hair, but at the end<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +of which, Miss Tootsie, tied hand and foot to +a chair, was propped up against a pillar, while +her conqueror proceeded to roll up his handkerchief +with the evident intention of applying +a gag.</p> + +<p>"You'll like it when the rats come around," +he said gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks! You can't scare me," said +Tootsie with alarming calm.</p> + +<p>"And there are bats too, don't forget the +bats that get their claws in your hair," said +Skippy, approaching with the gag, "and not a +soul to hear your cries, you tattle-tale!"</p> + +<p>"You'll get the licking of your life," said +Tootsie, looking at him steadily. "Thief!"</p> + +<p>"So you won't name your price!" said +Skippy, passing behind her and holding the gag +before her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Not if you murder me—you thief!"</p> + +<p>Skippy again considered.</p> + +<p>"She doesn't scare worth a darn," he acknowledged +to himself. Instead of applying +the gag he departed to the opposite side, sat +down and began to think. At the end of a long +moment he rose and approached her with a +brisk set manner.</p> + +<p>"So you're going to tell, are you?"</p> + +<p>"You just bet I'm going to tell, you coward!"</p> + +<p>"All right, tell then!" He stooped, freed +her legs and arms and rose. "Tell if you've<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +made up your mind to—but God help you if +you do. That's all I have to say."</p> + +<p>"You can't scare me," said Tootsie, but already +intrigued by the new plan of action which +she divined behind her brother's silence.</p> + +<p>"No, but there's some one I can scare!" said +Skippy, unlocking the door. "All right! War +to the knife, Miss Tootsie! Remember, though, +I warned you!"</p> + +<p>"Who are you threatening now?" said Tootsie, +trying to conceal her anxiety; for long association +had engendered a lively respect for +the Skippy imagination.</p> + +<p>"I never threaten," said Skippy disdainfully, +"but if that red-haired, knock-kneed, overfed +beau of yours ever sets foot on this place +again, he comes in a hearse! And what goes +for him, goes for all! Go on and tell, but you'll +have the loneliest summer you've ever had, +young lady!"</p> + +<p>Five minutes later a treaty of peace was +concluded on the basis of secret understandings +secretly arrived at, and Miss Tootsie Bedelle +replaced the dressmaker's figure in the arms of +the triumphant diplomat while the phonograph +gave forth the strains of the Washington Post.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Tootsie's terpsichorean assistance was sorely +needed. Skippy was not a natural glider and +gliding as Tootsie explained to him was essential +in a ballroom, in polite society at least.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +Skippy's feet could skip, hop and jump with +the best, but they were not, in any sense of the +word, gliders. The change from the inanimate +embrace of the dressmaker's form to Tootsie's +pliant figure, however, worked such miracles +that at the end of twenty minutes' industrious +application, Tootsie expressed herself as astonished +and delighted.</p> + +<p>Now of course Skippy could have gone for +instruction to Dolly Travers, who was the object +of these secret efforts. But that was not +the Skippy way. He had always shunned any +exhibition of inferiority. Whatever was to be +learned he learned in privacy and exhibited in +public. He had taught himself to shoot marbles, +to solve the intricate sequences of mumblety +peg, to throw an out-curve, to pick up a double +hitch with one hand, to chin himself, skin the +cat and hang by his toes behind the safe seclusion +of the barn wall. Whatever his failures +they were not accompanied by the jeers of an +audience. He had gone off in secret to the +swimming pool by Bretton's creek and smarted +for hours under crashing belly-whoppers until +he had taught himself to dive forward and +backward. Then he watched with grinning +superiority the fate of less experienced youngsters +who followed his dare.</p> + +<p>So in the present sentimental crisis. To rank +in the estimation of Miss Dolly Travers there +was no escaping the fact that he would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +to surrender his prejudices and incline his feet +to the popular way. But having reached this +decision he determined to stage his effects. For +two more Saturdays he continued in dignified +isolation to escort Miss Travers to the weekly +hop and back, guarding her scarf and fan, +straining his mouth into the semblance of an +interested smile while other fellows slipped +their arms around the tiny figure and moved +dexterously or heavily about the ballroom.</p> + +<p>On the third Saturday, halfway to the club +house, just as he had planned, Miss Dolly returned +to the point of discussion.</p> + +<p>"Jack, aren't you ever, ever going to learn +to dance?"</p> + +<p>"Oh well, perhaps some day," he said casually.</p> + +<p>"But you can't go through life without dancing!"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, of course not."</p> + +<p>"Really I think it's just too selfish of you. +You know how I adore it. Why won't you try? +I do believe you're afraid of being laughed +at."</p> + +<p>Skippy smiled craftily to himself.</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps I'll have a try."</p> + +<p>"That's what you've said every time," said +Miss Dolly, shrugging her shoulders.</p> + +<p>Skippy bided his opportunity until the third +two-step had begun and the claimants for the +favorite's hand were congregating.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm sitting this out with Jack," said Dolly, +with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"Say, a fossil who can't dance oughtn't to +have any rights around here, nohow," said +Happy Mather. "You're only a clothes horse +anyway, Skippy."</p> + +<p>Dolly burst out laughing at this, which +pained Skippy exceedingly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, any chump can dance if he wants to."</p> + +<p>"You think so?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. Easiest thing in the world if I wanted +to."</p> + +<p>"Easy?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. Just keeping in time, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Here's a dollar you can't get three times +around the room."</p> + +<p>Skippy pretended to hesitate.</p> + +<p>"I'll pay another dollar any day to see a +circus," said Joe Crocker, beginning to smirk.</p> + +<p>"Dolly, hold the money," said Skippy.</p> + +<p>Miss Dolly looked up in some consternation +for the group now numbered a half a dozen and +the floor was vast and bare.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to wait a little?" she said +with a glance at Crocker, who was nudging his +neighbor.</p> + +<p>"What's the use?" said Skippy. "Now tell +me again what I do."</p> + +<p>"Two steps with the left forward and then +two steps with the right. Hold my arm so," +said Dolly a little breathlessly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hold on tight, Skippy," said Happy Mather.</p> + +<p>"Step on your own feet."</p> + +<p>"Balance on your heels."</p> + +<p>"Don't let them rattle you, Jack."</p> + +<p>"They can't. Which foot do I start on?"</p> + +<p>"The left."</p> + +<p>"Shall we give him a push, Dolly?" said +Lazelle sympathetically, while his companions, +linking arms, were beaming with anticipated +delight.</p> + +<p>Skippy, having properly worked up his audience, +nodded to his partner and floated off in +a perfect dancing style.</p> + +<p>"Jack, you wretch, you've danced for +years!" said Dolly after the first surprise had +passed. "You've just been making fun of me +all this time."</p> + +<p>"Never been on a ballroom floor before in +my life," said Skippy, keeping within the letter +of the truth.</p> + +<p>"Why you're wonderful, Jack! But then +how could you—"</p> + +<p>"It's mental, everything is mental," said +Skippy conceitedly. "I just watched till I got +it in my mind and the rest was easy. Thanks +for the long green. Hello, what's become of +our little gallery of nuts?"</p> + +<p>Whether or not Dolly was entirely convinced +by this casual explanation, the immediate return +to Skippy was enormous. Not only were +the claimants to her affections completely distanced,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +but Miss Dolly, for a time, adopted an +attitude of respect and deference towards him, +which had formerly been totally lacking.</p> + +<p>Skippy was tremendously in love. There was +no doubt about that. You could see it in the +dishpan glow of his scrubbed forehead, in the +spotless flannels and the lily white hands. There +was something secure and permanent in the +attachment. Dolly was not sentimental and +only distantly affectionate, but she was absorbing. +There was no question of an eight-hour +day in his case. From nine <span class="smcap">a.m.</span> until Mr. Travers +ostentatiously began to bar the library +windows for the night, Mr. Skippy Bedelle was +at one end of a wire with Miss Dolly Travers +at the other, pushing the button.</p> + +<p>That practical young lady, realizing that +Skippy's earning capacity was still woefully +limited, permitted no allusions to the distant +holy bonds of matrimony, but she did allow him +to mortgage his future to the extent of the promenade +and dances which would decorate his +scholastic and collegiate journey, as well as +attendance at all athletic contests of any nature +whatsoever. On his birthday (when the +sinking fund toward the first dress suit rose to +the colossal sum of fifty dollars) they solemnly +exchanged pins, Dolly openly sporting the red +and black of Lawrenceville, while Skippy concealed +in the secret recesses of his tie a little +gold wishbone which would lead him to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +higher prizes in life, add three inches to his +stature and the additional twenty pounds necessary +to qualify for the varsity.</p> + +<p>His fall from grace was of course the subject +of great merriment among his companions, +particularly Happy Mather and Joe Crocker +in whom memory still rankled. A direct insult +was of course dangerous, but there were other +subtler ways. At least half a dozen times a day +some one was sure to ask him,</p> + +<p>"I say, Skippy, what's doing to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Got anything on this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>But Skippy brushed aside their crude attempts +at persiflage with indifference. He had +won out. The courted prize was his. For two +weeks not a cloud obtruded on the clear sky of +his content. Dolly bullied and bossed him. He +did her errands. He fetched and carried. He +served her and no other goddess. And then +tragedy arrived with the arrival of the celebrated +Hickey Hicks, who came down to spend +a fortnight with the Triumphant Egghead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Hickey in a Deadly Rôle</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>HICKEY, be it remembered, had just severed +his connections with the Lawrenceville +school after a display of pedagogical despotism +which had no parallel except in the case of the +celebrated Captain Dreyfus. Just because certain +disturbing incidents had occurred in close +succession, beginning with the theft of the clapper; +the disappearance of Tabby's bed, when +that inexperienced young master had dashed +two miles down the Trenton road in search of +fictitious burglars; the famous Fed and anti-Fed +riots when a misdirected effort to inculcate +the love of politics had almost resulted in a recourse +to the financial institution which insures +the school against destruction by fire or otherwise—the +head master, without an iota of +evidence (he acknowledged it frankly), had +requested the Hon. Hickey Hicks to seek a +wider field for the admittedly fertile powers +which were peculiarly his.</div> + +<p>When Hickey with his resplendent social +manner cast the eye of favor on Dolly Travers, +after having remarked her unquestioned superiority +with the light fantastic toe, Skippy felt +exactly the way the Vicomte de Bragelonne did +when royalty appeared to claim the hand of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +Louise de la Vallière. Hickey was in the heavy +middleweight class while he was still a bantam. +Hickey was one of the princely figures of school +tradition. He came, he saw, he conquered. He +was an athlete, whose arrival was disputed by +the three leading colleges. Sambones Bedelle +himself, captain of next year's Yale varsity nine, +allowed himself to be seen publicly with his arm +resting affectionately over Hickey's shoulders. +With such a halo it was no wonder that Dolly +in her early teens should have yielded to the +flattery of his preference. Skippy acknowledged +so much to himself as he stood on the +fringe of the spectators and watched Dolly +with rapturous upturned face whirling about +the room in the arms of the great man.</p> + +<p>"What ye doin' to-morrow afternoon, +Skippy?" said Puffy Ellis, who enjoyed the reversal +of rôles.</p> + +<p>"I'm cleaning up the mitts. Want to come +around?" said Skippy, with what is commonly +described as a steely look.</p> + +<p>Puffy did not pursue the subject and the chip +on Skippy's shoulder remained unchallenged.</p> + +<p>How Hickey danced! The days had not arrived +when acrobatic feats had invaded the +decorum of the ballroom, and such simple departures +from the routine as dos-à-dos and +single hand were enough to provoke envy and +astonishment.</p> + +<p>Skippy forgot his irritation as he watched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +the graceful guiding of his rival. Hickey certainly +could dance! He admitted it. Never +with or without the assistance of a dressmaker's +manikin could he ever hope to rival +him in this accomplishment. He went dutifully +to claim his turn with the faithless one. His +heart was acutely torn and he knew the peculiar +delight he was affording his numerous friends, +but he forced a smile of indifference. Besides, +in his fertile imagination he had the glimmerings +of a stratagem.</p> + +<p>"I've saved the fifth two-step and the seventh +waltz for you," said Dolly, squeezing his arm +ever so lightly, "though you haven't asked +me yet."</p> + +<p>The summer was long and she was quite +aware that in another ten days the resplendent +Mr. Hicks would pass as Shelley had passed. +Besides she secretly admired Skippy's sporting +manner in adversity.</p> + +<p>"Awfully good of you," he said lightly, +"but see here, Dolly, don't bother about me. +Hickey's got us all skinned hollow when it +comes to this game. Go ahead, keep on dancing +with him. Go as far as you like."</p> + +<p>"My, but he waltzes divinely!" said Dolly, +relieved.</p> + +<p>"He's a wonder, all right, and a cracker-jack +at anything he touches! Sambones says +he'll make the varsity, certain next year."</p> + +<p>"What happened about his leaving school?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That—that was an outrage," said Skippy, +who would have scorned to attack a rival +meanly. "I'll tell you all about that."</p> + +<p>"You're sure you don't mind my dancing so +much with him?" said Dolly, who had allowed +Hickey to cut in six dances running.</p> + +<p>"I? Bless you, no!"</p> + +<p>"It's just his wonderful dancing," said +Dolly, looking down.</p> + +<p>"Don't blame you. He is A No. 1 with his +feet all right," said Skippy, and he added carelessly, +"wonderful how he manages it, too, with +his infirmity."</p> + +<p>"His infirmity?" said Dolly, startled.</p> + +<p>"Did I say infirmity?" said Skippy, pretending +surprise. "For heaven's sake, don't +tell any one. Gee, I shouldn't have said that."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what infirmity?" said Dolly, now +in a high state of excitement.</p> + +<p>Skippy compressed his lips to show that they +were forever sealed, and moved away. But he +noted with satisfaction that the next time Miss +Dolly Travers passed whirling about the great +man, instead of the rapturous upturned gaze, +was one of alarmed curiosity.</p> + +<p>The next day at the beach Dolly opened up at +once the question of infirmities.</p> + +<p>"Dolly," said Skippy firmly, "I'm not going +to say any more, so it's no use trying to pump +me. I'm ashamed to have said what I did. A +feller can't help what he's got, or what he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +hasn't got, can he? And it's only a foolish +prejudice after all."</p> + +<p>"But Jack—"</p> + +<p>"There was another fellow at school," said +Skippy, without attention, "who had a glass +eye, but he was a positive nuisance. He used +to take it out and leave it around. No one could +stand roomin' with him. It certainly gave you +the creeps to be lookin' on the table for a collar +button or a pen and find—"</p> + +<p>But here Dolly gave a shriek and fled with +her hands over her ears.</p> + +<p>Now Skippy had made no direct insinuation +(he always had the greatest respect for the +letter of the truth), but it is a fact that when +forty-eight hours later the Mathers gave a +dance, Hickey became suddenly aware of a +complete change of attitude among the feminine +portion of his admirers.</p> + +<p>"What the deuce is wrong with me, anyhow?" +he said after the second dance. He went +outside and scrupulously examined himself in +the mirror. Then he went back and tried another +partner. Again the strange feeling stole +over him. Every time he brought the battery +of his blue eyes to bear upon his partner her +eyes turned uneasily away and the moment his +own glance was averted, back hers came, in an +uncanny fixed interrogation. The night was a +triumph for Skippy, who danced eight times +with Miss Dolly Travers and had the further<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +satisfaction of observing her in a state of +nerves after each of the two which she begrudged +to Mr. Hicks.</p> + +<p>But alas for Skippy and his short moment of +triumph! Within twenty-four hours the mystified +Hickey had discovered the truth and Hickey +was one that was never lightly challenged.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Sitting It Out</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>SKIPPY, fatuously unconscious of any overtaking +fate, escorted Dolly to the next Saturday +night hop. On Monday Mr. Hickey Hicks +would be on his way to new pastures and life +would return to simpler terms. Dolly, however, +was in no amiable frame of mind.</div> + +<p>"You said he had a glass eye. You know you +did," she said for the tenth time.</p> + +<p>"Now that's just like a woman," thought +Skippy, justly offended, and out loud he said, +with some asperity, "<i>You</i> said so. I never +did."</p> + +<p>"I?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, you did! Why you said it was the +left one."</p> + +<p>"Well, you let me think so anyway."</p> + +<p>"How was I to know?" said Skippy, illogically. +"Perhaps he has a glass eye. Have you +asked him?"</p> + +<p>They reached the club house and as the orchestra +was already industriously at work, +Skippy said playfully,</p> + +<p>"All's fair in love and war anyhow! S'pose +we dance."</p> + +<p>"You don't deserve it," said Dolly, hesitating.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +She glanced around and as no one else +was an immediate prospect, she accorded him +her arm. Skippy began to perceive that the +burden of conversation would lie with him.</p> + +<p>The next dance was a waltz and they waited, +the one expectantly, the other in resignation for +the usual rush of the stags which invariably +accompanied Miss Dolly's conquering arrival. +As she was endowed with a lively sense of +humor, her irritation had quite departed and +Skippy was as blissfully happy in his restoration +to favor as the four-footed puppy when +reconciliation with the master has followed +chastisement. To keep fidelity with human +nature, it must likewise be recorded that the +practical sense was likewise strong in the young +lady, who was fully aware of the value of a bird +in the hand to one about to fly the bush. Hickey +appeared and came directly towards them. +Skippy fell back.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Skippy, old top," said Hickey, with +accented cordiality. He shook hands with Miss +Dolly, who greeted him with the most encouraging +of smiles. He complimented her on the bewitching +gown which made her prettier than +ever, wondered where she had been all this time, +shook hands effusively—and passed on. Miss +Dolly bit her lip and took hasty survey of the +room. The old reliables were all actively engaged, +spinning about the room with other +partners.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I adore this tune," she said suddenly. +"Come on, let's waltz."</p> + +<p>Then, just to show her independence, she +suggested that the next dance, a polka, was a +dreadful bore and Skippy, still unsuspicious, +bore her away in great delight to the shadowy +intimacies of the veranda. Miss Dolly was a +little quicker in her perceptions. She saw +what was up, and being of high spirit, decided +to answer in kind. She returned to the floor +and danced a third time with Skippy, who was +too fatuously pleased with his good fortune +to notice the suppressed hilarity in the room.</p> + +<p>"Let's sit here," said Dolly, selecting the +most public spot. When Happy Mather and +Crocker and Lazelle and the superior Mr. Hicks +did arrive, she would have her revenge. She +would refuse flatly. She would dance with +Skippy openly and defiantly the whole evening. +The only drawback was that no one came.</p> + +<p>They sat out two dances and then a feeling +of panic descended upon them. They were +horribly, glaringly conspicuous. Every eye +was on them. Every one was whispering at +their expense. Dolly had never known the sensation +of being a wallflower, and for the first +time her natural wit deserted her. At first she +had deployed all the instinctive arts of her +challenged coquetry. She had openly flaunted +her affection for Skippy, smiling into his fascinated +eyes, laughing uproariously at the inanities<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +he had to offer. Then her spirits +suddenly evaporated and she listened with a +cold creepy feeling in her back, while Skippy, +in desperation for a topic of conversation, began +to explain the intricacies of Mosquito-Proof +Socks, to perfecting which his life henceforth +would be devoted.</p> + +<p>"Let's dance."</p> + +<p>Skippy, halfway in his exposition of the +commercial value of an invention which would +appeal to twice ninety million legs at six pair +of socks a year, flushed and rose heavily. The +light had dawned upon him at last. They were +being put in coventry and the diabolical mind +that was thus taking its fiendish revenge could +be none other than the man he had wronged—Hickey +Hicks.</p> + +<p>From now on it was torture, pure, unadulterated, +exquisite torture, such as only the self-conscious +stripling of the first sixteen awkward +years can experience. To save his life he could +not think of a thing to say, while in his arms +Dolly grew heavier and heavier. His arm +ached, his feet began to stumble, he bumped +into other couples.</p> + +<p>After he had sat out the eighth dance in +fitful silence, he began to experience the +strangest antipathy for Miss Dolly Travers, +who but an hour before had been the rapturous +ending of all his day dreams. Let no cynic +here exclaim, with facile wit, that romance ends<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +thus in the compulsory quality of marriage. +We make no such allusions. We only state +that Skippy, in his inexperience, began morally +to disintegrate. The more he was forced to +sit, chained by convention, the object of public +hilarity, the more he wondered at his +former infatuation. Dolly disputed by every +male was a figment of the imagination—how +different was the reality! Mimi Lafontaine +was a hundred times more desirable and at least +had <i>something</i> to say! The situation was hideous, +but how escape? If only he could get to +Hickey and buy him off! But he couldn't get +to his tormentor, that was the trouble! Then +suddenly an idea came to him. In his pocket +was the roll of bills that comprised the sinking +fund for his dress suit. Carefully and unnoticed +by Dolly, he extracted a two dollar bill. +When next he danced, he danced with the bill +openly flaunted behind the all-unconscious +Dolly, openly offering it to whoever would come +to his rescue. Still the banded traitors smirked +and remained loyal to their leader—they, too, +had scores to settle!</p> + +<p>"Get me a glass of lemonade, won't you, +Jack, like a dear?" said Dolly, who had thought +of a possible opening.</p> + +<p>Skippy went and took a full five minutes +until he had made quite sure the next dance +was under way. To his horror Dolly was +where he had left her—sitting alone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the tenth dance had begun, he hesitated +no longer. He replaced the two dollar +bill by one of the next denomination, and with +the V carefully exposed, he managed to bump +into Hickey and draw his attention to the +price of his liberty. Hickey appeared interested +but only half convinced. Skippy held +out another dance and then, groaning inwardly, +increased the bait to ten.</p> + +<p>Whereupon Hickey condescended. The signal +was given and Skippy, standing aloof and +humble in the shadows of the veranda, perceived +through the window Miss Dolly Travers, +as the stags swarmed down, resume her sway +as the queen of the ball.</p> + +<p>On Monday Hickey departed in a burst of +glory. With him something else departed—a +great romance. Illusions are fragile things +and when they are shattered the pieces are +too small to be reassembled. <i>Sic transit</i> Dolly +Travers!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Dead Game Sports</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>AT the end of August, Mr. Skippy Bedelle +met Mr. Snorky Green on the Fall River +Boat, each being in complete agreement as to +the economic superiority of the water route to +the great metropolis, when the end in view was +the acquisition of that radiant apotheosis of +perfect manhood, the first dress suit.</div> + +<p>"Gee Whilikins, Skippy, you're enormous," +said Snorky, measuring him with his eye. +"How did you do it? I've only gained half +an inch."</p> + +<p>"I'm twelve pounds heavier," said Skippy +proudly. "Feel that."</p> + +<p>"Hard as nails!" said Snorky, pinching the +proffered biceps. "You do look different, too."</p> + +<p>Skippy, thinking on Dolly Travers, blushed.</p> + +<p>"Got to shave every other day now," he said +hastily, to cover his confusion.</p> + +<p>"Have a coffin nail?" said Snorky, feeling +that a bold stroke was necessary to restore the +balance.</p> + +<p>"Dyin' for one," said Skippy, who disliked +the practice cordially. He selected a cigarette, +tapped it on his hand and rolled the rim on the +tip of his tongue. "Not bad."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nice bouquet, eh?" said Snorky, who had +listened in.</p> + +<p>"What? You betcha! What's the monogram?"</p> + +<p>"Uncle Ben. I swiped them," said Snorky, +who was returning from a family visit. "Suppose +we give the old tub the once over and +see if there's anything worth looking at on +board."</p> + +<p>Skippy allowed the cigarette to hang pendant +from his lower lip, tilted his Panama with the +purple and white band, sank his hands in his +pockets and imitated carefully the dead game +sporting slouch of his companion as they proceeded +on their critical inspection of the feminine +offering on the decks.</p> + +<p>"Rum bunch," said Snorky, who was putting +it on for Skippy. "Little girl over there got +nice eyes."</p> + +<p>"Piano legs."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Piano legs. Big as a porpoise in five +years," said Skippy, putting it on for Snorky.</p> + +<p>"I daresay," said Snorky, who continued his +efforts to impress his chum by staring down a +large buxom lady who happened to glance their +way. "Rather good-looking, the old fighting +brunette over there."</p> + +<p>"Seemed interested in you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, rather," said Snorky, turning for a +fatuous backward glance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's this?" said Skippy, suddenly interested.</p> + +<p>Ahead by the rail two young girls were +watching curiously the vanishing outlines of +the harbor.</p> + +<p>"That's class," said Snorky instantly.</p> + +<p>"You betcha!" said Skippy, noting the large +leghorn hats dripping with rosebuds, the trim +ruffled organdie dresses and the twin parasols, +pink and mauve. The young ladies looked up +curiously at their swaggering approach and +then away. Skippy in his assiduous pursuit +of fiction of the romantic tinge had often read +of "velvety" eyes and pondered incredulously. +For the first time in his life, suddenly, in the +hazards of a crowded steamer, a young girl +of irreproachable manners had looked at him +and the eyes were undeniably "velvety." It +troubled him. Not that he was susceptible to +such a point, but it stirred memories of ancient +readings into the night on soft window seats, +or under green trees in the troubling warmth +of spring days.</p> + +<p>"The blonde for mine," said Snorky pompously.</p> + +<p>"I didn't see her," said Skippy dreamily.</p> + +<p>They linked arms and passed in the rakish, +indolent manner of thorough men of the world +who know that but to be seen is to conquer. +To their discomfiture the young ladies failed to +notice the extreme distinction of their manly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +appearance and shortly afterward left the +deck.</p> + +<p>"We failed to impress," said Skippy disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"A lot you know about women."</p> + +<p>"They never saw us."</p> + +<p>"Huh! Betcha they were sneaking looks +at us every time we passed. Just you wait. +They'll be out in a jiffy."</p> + +<p>"What'll we do?"</p> + +<p>"Pretend we're not interested."</p> + +<p>They stalked the deck ten times with a nonchalant, +bored air, but slightly roving eyes.</p> + +<p>"They're waiting inside," said Snorky +obstinately.</p> + +<p>"Well, you go and scout. I'll wait here," +said Skippy, whose interest was only a determination +not to be outshone by his chum of +chums.</p> + +<p>In ten minutes Snorky was back, all excitement.</p> + +<p>"Just as I told you. They're in the front +saloon playing cards. Come on."</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" said Skippy, +hesitating.</p> + +<p>Snorky thought a moment.</p> + +<p>"We've got to put over something big."</p> + +<p>"Well, what?"</p> + +<p>Snorky thought again.</p> + +<p>"We must make 'em think we're high rollers;—yachts, +race horses, and all that."</p> + +<p>"Well, how?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>Snorky thought a third time.</p> + +<p>"How much money have you got?" said +Skippy suddenly.</p> + +<p>"In cash?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. On you."</p> + +<p>"About forty-three dollars," said Snorky, +who from time to time had been feeling with +his fingers to assure himself that no pickpocket +had outwitted him.</p> + +<p>"Fork it out. I've got an idea."</p> + +<p>"Is it all right?" said Snorky, who had reason +to dread the Skippy imagination.</p> + +<p>"Fine and dandy. Don't worry. Trust me. +Show 'em up."</p> + +<p>Snorky produced a twenty, two tens and +three common-a-garden ones.</p> + +<p>"You keep a twenty and you stick it on top. +Then you change the two tens into ones and +that makes some whopping wad, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Say, I don't get—"</p> + +<p>"Leave it to me," said Skippy, who led the +way to the cigar counter.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later Mr. Skippy Bedelle and +Mr. Snorky Green, with large banded cigars, +entered the ladies' saloon and carelessly installed +themselves at a table next but one to +that occupied by the young girls.</p> + +<p>"Well, old sport," said Snorky, twirling the +mercifully unsmoked cigar in his fingers. "Suppose +we go over our accounts?"</p> + +<p>"Always be businesslike," said Skippy, poising<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +a pencil over a sheet of paper with plutocratic +nonchalance.</p> + +<p>"Owe you thirty-five plunks for last night's +poker game," said Snorky, raising his voice +sufficiently.</p> + +<p>"That's right, and I owe—"</p> + +<p>"Hold on, me first."</p> + +<p>Snorky dug into his trousers and came up +with a roll of greenbacks that made the colored +porter who happened to be passing stumble in +his step.</p> + +<p>"Twenty and ten and five, makes thirty-five," +he said, peeling them off with a nimble +exhibition of legerdemain which kept the lower +bills well concealed.</p> + +<p>"Keerect," said Skippy, sweeping them towards +him with a languidly indifferent air.</p> + +<p>"Then I borrowed a ten spot to tip the head +waiter. Remember?"</p> + +<p>"I do remember."</p> + +<p>"Five and five. Correct?"</p> + +<p>"Keerect."</p> + +<p>"How do we stand on the ponies?"</p> + +<p>"Only fair," said Skippy. "We lost two and +won one. I couldn't get our money up on the +others."</p> + +<p>"Let's see. It was twenty-five bones each, +wasn't it?" said Snorky, jogging his elbow, +to notify him that the impression they were +making was simply stupendous.</p> + +<p>"Right again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That sets me back fifty plunks. That's +easy. Here you are, one, two, three, four, five +tens. Correct?"</p> + +<p>"Keerect," said Skippy, brushing in the +greenbacks, with the same casual motion of his +hand.</p> + +<p>"That squares me."</p> + +<p>"It does."</p> + +<p>"Now what's coming back?"</p> + +<p>Skippy in turn, after certain struggles with +his trousers pocket, brought forth a bundle +which could have done credit to a cattle king +and said, as he slipped the elastic,</p> + +<p>"Twenty-five at five to one is just about one +hundred and twenty-five."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, but how about the tip to +Spike Murphy?"</p> + +<p>"Spike Murphy?" said Skippy, looking at +him hard.</p> + +<p>"The fellow who put us wise."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," said Skippy, recovering +a proper sporting manner. "Forget that. +I cleaned up enough to handle a little thing +like that."</p> + +<p>"Lucky dog!"</p> + +<p>"One hundred and twenty-five," said Skippy, +going through the proper motions. "Twenty +once, twice, three times, four and five. One +hundred, and ten and twenty and twenty—"</p> + +<p>But at this moment, whether by chance, by +intent or by the emotion caused by the display<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +of such wealth, there was a crash from the +nearby table and two magazines fell to the +floor. Snorky, ever alert, sprang to his feet, +retrieved the magazines and offered them to the +blondest of the two with punctilious courtesy.</p> + +<p>"Allow me. I believe these belong to you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh thank you," said the young lady, looking +quite distressed.</p> + +<p>"Awfully warm night, isn't it?" said Snorky, +whose heart was pumping at his own unexampled +audacity.</p> + +<p>"Sir, I do not think I have been introduced +to you," said the young lady, stiffening and +looking what to Snorky, at least, were daggers.</p> + +<p>He uttered several unintelligible sounds, +flushed a fiery red and backed away.</p> + +<p>"Right where the chicken met the axe," said +Skippy, who began to whistle a melancholy tune +as he gathered up the scattered greenbacks. +"Here comes mother."</p> + +<p>"Let's beat it," said Snorky, who felt a +sudden need for a purer atmosphere.</p> + +<p>"You know women better than I do," said +Skippy, who though a chum was human.</p> + +<p>"Damn them all," said Snorky, peering over +the railing into the night and exposing his forehead +to the cooling breeze. "But why the devil +did she lead me on?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Experiments in a Dress Suit</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>WHEN they descended at the Southampton +station the family coach was in waiting. +They surrendered their valises to the footman +while each clung tightly to a large square paper +box, carefully protected and corded.</div> + +<p>"Gee, it'll just about knock the wind out of +old Caroline," said Snorky in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Don't they suspect?" said Skippy nervously.</p> + +<p>"Not for a minute. Say, I'd never have the +nerve to sport it alone."</p> + +<p>"Have you got the box with the shirt studs +in?" said Skippy fidgeting.</p> + +<p>"Why I handed it—"</p> + +<p>"That's so. They're here," said Skippy, +after a dip into four pockets.</p> + +<p>At the thought that at last after sixteen long +and eventful years the supreme moment had +come when he would step out of the shell of +adolescence and greet the waiting world in his +first forty-dollar, <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'customs'">custom</ins>-made dress suit, in +high collar, white stiff bosom, two tails pendant, +Skippy shivered slightly and drew a deep, delightfully +terrified breath.</p> + +<p>"We'll put it over all right," he said loudly, +and he began to whistle as is the instinct of +boyhood, whether facing the possibility of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +parental caning; screwing up courage to ring +her doorbell; or turning a gloomy corner in the +moonlight where something horrid and shapeless +may be lurking.</p> + +<p>Twenty minutes later, as he was solicitously +examining the crease in the soft lovely black +trousers, after hanging the swallow-tailed coat +over a padded hanger, Snorky came in with a +face of thunder.</p> + +<p>"Well, what <i>do</i> you think?" he said nervously.</p> + +<p>"They forgot to put in the pants," said +Skippy, leaping to the worst.</p> + +<p>"Shucks, no. There's a party on to-night."</p> + +<p>"A party?"</p> + +<p>"There'll be millions of people to dinner and +a dance after."</p> + +<p>"What of it?" said Skippy loudly, though the +chill began to ascend from his feet.</p> + +<p>"My Lord—"</p> + +<p>"Say, you're not losing your nerve, you +chicken-hearted rabbit, are you?" said Skippy, +who was now absolutely terrified.</p> + +<p>"You mean you're game?"</p> + +<p>"Snorky! I wouldn't have believed it of +you!"</p> + +<p>"Say, it isn't your family or your sister," +said Snorky angrily. "My aunt's cat's pants, +how they'll howl!"</p> + +<p>Skippy prepared for the great event by what +would have sufficed for a European semi-annual +immersion and, emerging spotless and stainless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +from the bath, with his derby closely +pressed over the niceties of his parted hair, +perceived that he had still forty-two minutes +left of the hour and a half he had allotted to +this supreme toilette.</p> + +<p>"My Lord, I hope I've got everything," he +said, standing in diaphanous contemplation. +The one thing that worried him a little was the +studs. They had looked over twenty different +varieties, flat ones and solid gold ones, spirals, +encrusted studs, and studs that anchored with +a queer twist. Finally they had allowed themselves +to be persuaded by a flashy clerk and +settled on a patent imitation pearl stud that +pushed in and stuck, simplest thing in the +world, like the click of a spring lock; that would +leave the beautiful creamy white expanse of +shirt absolutely unruffled by any preliminary +struggle.</p> + +<p>"Shall I try 'em on first?" he thought, glancing +down at the immaculate bosom. But at this +moment a voice behind him cried pompously.</p> + +<p>"Old top. Cast your eye on this."</p> + +<p>Skippy gazed and his courage rose. His +private opinion was that Snorky looked like a +French butcher going to a morning wedding in +hired regalia.</p> + +<p>"The suit's a lalapazooza!" he said carefully.</p> + +<p>"It'll kill old Carrots," said Snorky, who +thus referred to his sister. "She's over the +age limit now but when I pull this she'll look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +a grandmother! Say, look me over. Make sure +there are no tags or price marks. All right?"</p> + +<p>"Jim dandy."</p> + +<p>He went two steps to the door and turned.</p> + +<p>"Say, remember one thing. Keep your fists +out of your trousers pockets, Bo. That's important."</p> + +<p>"Why so?"</p> + +<p>"Ignoramus," said Skippy, reproachfully. +"That'll give the whole game away. You never +stick your hands in your trousers pockets unless +you're a greenhorn."</p> + +<p>"How do the shirt studs work?" said Skippy, +nervously.</p> + +<p>"Simplest things in the world."</p> + +<p>"Say, Snorky?"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"These coat tails have got pockets in them."</p> + +<p>"Sure they have, you chump! They're to +hide your mawlers in."</p> + +<p>"Don't be so bright," said Skippy indignantly. +"But what <i>do</i> we put into them, then?"</p> + +<p>"Handkerchief."</p> + +<p>"Rats. I know better than that. You stick +a handkerchief up in front and pull out just the +tip of it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's for a toothbrush if you're +staying over night."</p> + +<p>"No, but honest, what do you put in them?" +said Skippy, who did not wish to miss a trick.</p> + +<p>They thought this over a long moment, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +then gave it up as greater intelligences, pondering +on the mysteries of existence, have given +it up.</p> + +<p>"Well, ta-ta. See you below."</p> + +<p>"Where you goin'?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to break in the family one by +one," said Snorky, wagging his head. "Lettin' +'em get over the shock. I'm taking no +chances."</p> + +<p>Left to himself, Skippy hastened to his own +preparations. At the risk of being acclaimed +a traitor to the sex, we must record here the +truth, that with five mirrors surrounding him +and one in the bathroom, it took Skippy exactly +forty-five minutes to perfect his toilette from +every angle of observation. First he burrowed +into his shirt which deranged the part in his +hair and necessitated another period of readjustment. +Then he put on his trousers and adjusted +the suspenders until each trouser leg +hung with the crease untroubled and just +clear of the boot. But having done this he discovered, +as others have discovered, that patent +shirt-studs sported in an unaccustomed place, +require the fullest play of the arms. The placing +of the studs was of itself the most delicate +of operations and twice he went down on his +knees and halfway under the bed to retrieve +the upper one which popped out just as he +thought he had it securely imprisoned. Once +more he adjusted the suspenders, and began<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +work on the stiff collar which caught his throat +and forced up his chin. After five minutes' +struggle he succeeded in fastening this with the +aid of a buttonhook, and suddenly the thing he +had feared was upon him. He had forgotten, +completely forgotten, the white tie!</p> + +<p>What was he to do? Snorky was beyond the +reach of assistance. Twice he had heard shouts +of uproarious delight down the hall marking +his chum's progress in breaking in the family. +The house was huge and Snorky by this time +was down on the second floor or even practicing +in the parlor. He went through the motions of +searching through his valise but he knew all +the while that it was futile. He had forgotten +the final touch, the <i>sine qua non</i> of fashion!</p> + +<p>He found a wrapper in the hall closet and +opening the door cautiously peered into the +hall. An uncle and an older brother of Snorky's +were on the same floor, but he had not been +introduced and his courage failed him. He +returned to his room and contemplated the +white bed spread, the pillow slips and the +muslin curtains in a wild hope that something +might lend itself to an improvisation. Then he +shook his head mournfully. There was only +one way out. To appear properly dressed in +this, a strange house, before strangers, he +would have to commit a crime! The only way +to get a white tie was to steal one. At this +moment while his whole moral future turned on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +an impulse, a door down the hall opened and +Skippy, peering forth, beheld an elderly gentleman, +immaculately dressed, descend the stairs. +For a short moment he hesitated but atavism +and necessity were against him. He stole out +into the hall and made his way on tiptoe. All +at once he heard a step ascending the stairs. A +bathroom door was open. He sprang into it +with a thumping heart and waited breathlessly, +leaning limply against the wall. All at once his +eye fell on the clothes basket. From the top +a crumpled white tie was hanging. He was +saved!</p> + +<p>He seized the tie and head erect, honor intact, +walked fearlessly back to his room. But +there, a new dilemma! The tie was indeed of +whitest lawn but, alas! across one end was a +smudge which defied the most persistent rubbing. +Skippy, as has been observed, was at the +period when the imagination is not confined by +tradition. In desperation he resorted to the +washbasin and with the aid of a brush, triumphantly +banished the damned spot. Then +having wrung the limp mass, he spread the +tie carefully against the window pane and +covering it with a handkerchief, laboriously +ironed it out with a shoe.</p> + +<p>Just as the clock struck half past seven, Mr. +John C. Bedelle descended the last stairs and +greeted a critical world. Beads of perspiration +stood on his forehead, his spine seemed made of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +rubber, his knees shook and his restless, chilly +hands loomed before him, homeless and lost; +but he was safe at last in all the intricacies of +a dress suit—a man of fashion among men of +the world!</p> + +<p>Snorky was standing miserably by the fireplace, +his large peppermint ears flanking a +heated face, as he defiantly faced the family +hilarity. Then Skippy's superb aplomb failed +him. Just beyond the smirking family, among +the early guests, was Miss Jennie Tupper, the +girl with the velvety eyes, and at her side, as +icily correct as when the night before she had +crushed Snorky's floundering attempt at lady-killing, +her sister Margarita.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Shirt Studs as Cupid's Messenger</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>AFTER the room had returned to place +Skippy rallied, took the introductions +with preternatural stiffness, and gravitated to +Snorky. The white shirt front in the most +unaccountable manner had swollen to alarming +dimensions, the coat tails must be dragging +on the floor. His collar cut under his imprisoned +neck and his large white hands, longing +for sheltering pockets, seemed to float before +him like inflated balloons. If his were +complete manhood,—oh for a soft shirt and a +turned down collar!</div> + +<p>"Kill it," said Snorky under his breath.</p> + +<p>"What's wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Kill that flag of liberty, you chump!" said +Snorky, glowering at the flaming edge of the +silk bandana handkerchief which Skippy was +sporting at his breast pocket.</p> + +<p>"What's wrong with that? Every one does +it."</p> + +<p>"Wrong! Look around you."</p> + +<p>Skippy did so and surreptitiously extinguished +the bandana.</p> + +<p>"Holy Mike, we're in for it," said Snorky. +"Do you know who they are?"</p> + +<p>"The girls?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Daughters of the Presbyterian minister, +strict as nails—Sunday school and mission +stuff. Oh Lord!"</p> + +<p>"Pretend you knew it all along."</p> + +<p>"And that other stuff? The dead game +sporting life?"</p> + +<p>"Stick to your guns!" said Skippy desperately.</p> + +<p>The next moment he was at table, between +Miss Caroline Bedelle and the blonde Margarita, +while across the table the soft velvety eyes +of Jennie looked at him sadly and reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, Jack," said Snorky's sister, +staring at him. "I never, never would have +known you. You've gained twenty pounds."</p> + +<p>"It's the shirt," thought Skippy, glancing +down at the bulging front that gave him the +torso of a wrestler. Then he began to wonder +which was the owner of the still slightly moist +tie. But soon all discomforts, even the intricate +maze of forks and knives, were forgotten before +the alarming problem of the shirt front. +When he sat upright, stiff as a ramrod, it was +relatively quiescent, but the moment he relaxed +or bent forward to eat it bulged forth as though +working on a spring, until a lurking horror that +it would escape altogether began to possess +him. He crept forward on his chair and balanced +on the edge, trying to mitigate the conspicuous +rigidity of his pose by a nonchalant +coquetting with the salt <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'celler'">cellar</ins>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I suppose I must talk to you, for appearances' +sake," said the blonde Miss Tupper.</p> + +<p>"Why so?" said Skippy haughtily, for having +just reacted from blondes, blondes did not +appeal to him.</p> + +<p>"You ask?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly I ask, and I think an apology is +due my friend and myself," said Skippy from +his great fund of literary conversations.</p> + +<p>"Well, I like that!"</p> + +<p>"You cut us dead twice on the deck and then +pretended not to know Arthur when he started +to speak to you," said Skippy icily.</p> + +<p>Miss Margarita Tupper looked at him with +the intuitive suspicion of the righteous.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe a word of it," she said.</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> is adding insult to injury," said +Skippy, still in the best fictional manner. "Pardon +me if I do not pursue this conversation any +longer."</p> + +<p>"I guess that'll hold the old girl," he said, +chuckling inwardly. But alas for such vanities, +or was it the unseen moral guardians which +may be expected to watch over the daughters of +the upright! The sudden shift of his indignant +body was attended with fatal results.</p> + +<p>There was a distinct "pop." The upper +patent shirt-stud shot out, tinkled against a +vase and rolled directly towards the girl with +the velvety eyes.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" said Caroline, startled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Some one threw a pebble against the window +pane," said a voice.</p> + +<p>"Something cracked."</p> + +<p>They are wrong, eternally wrong, who look +upon youth as a period of careless joy on the +threshold of manhood's struggles and sorrows! +Never in after-life would Skippy Bedelle experience +such a blank, helpless horror as in +that awful moment, when he sat overcome with +shame and confusion, awaiting detection. What +in heaven's name was he to say when the eyes +of the whole company would inevitably be directed +to the telltale stud, blazing now at the +plate of Miss Tupper? What did any one say, +anyhow, when a shirt stud popped across the +table? Nothing in his experience or the experience +of all the novelists in the world could +supply a clue. Wave after wave of red and +redder confusion rippled up from his collar and +surged to the roots of his hair. Should he +brazen it out? Should he make a light answer, +or was it etiquette to apologize humbly to his +hostess? How could he tell? If he were discovered +there was only one thing to do, to run +for it, to retreat to his room, lock his door, escape +by the window and leave by the night train, +disgraced and branded forever!</p> + +<p>"Very funny," said Mrs. Bedelle. "Caroline, +look at the Bohemian glass vase. I'm +sure I heard it crack."</p> + +<p>All glances immediately concentrated on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +fatal area. Detection was now but a question +of instants. Then Skippy in the throes of +despair saw the plump little hand of Miss +Jennie Tupper reach out and casually close over +the offending pearl stud. He was saved, saved +by the miracle of compassion and forgiveness +that lifts women to those sublime heights where +mere men cannot attain!</p> + +<p>Tears threatened his eyes, his throat swelled +up and slowly subsided. He looked over into the +velvety eyes and sent a message of abject +gratitude. He was her slave from now on, +irrevocably bound, faithful until death!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"You didn't detherve it," said Miss Jennie +an hour later when in the seclusion of the +veranda she had restored to him the unspeakable +stud.</p> + +<p>"You're an angel," said Skippy hoarsely. +"I'll never, never forget that. That was white +of you, awfully white!"</p> + +<p>"You didn't detherve it," repeated Miss +Tupper with as much severity as can accompany +the slightest of lisps and the eyes of a +gazelle.</p> + +<p>"Don't be hard on a fellow," said Skippy +miserably.</p> + +<p>"It was outwageous. You know, you didn't +know us."</p> + +<p>How was he to lie to his saviour and benefactor +and yet how betray a chum?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It did look bad," he said, momentarily at +loss, "but honest, now, Snorky's intentions +were nothing but honorable. Honest they +were."</p> + +<p>"I with I could believe it," said Miss Jennie +sadly.</p> + +<p>"I say, you must think I'm an awful rum +sort," said Skippy, on whom the velvety eyes +against the distant moon ripple on the water +and the nearby night fragrance of the honeysuckle +was beginning to work its charm. +"Well, I suppose I am—"</p> + +<p>"Oh no."</p> + +<p>"A rotten good-for-nothing lot," said Skippy +gloomily, falling easily into the new part and +surprised to find what peculiar pleasure could +be extracted from the rôle of the wayward.</p> + +<p>"No, no, you're not that bad," said Miss +Jennie earnestly, "but I do think—well you've +not been under the withest of influenthes, have +you?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't had a chance," said Skippy desperately. +"Everything has been against me. +Guess no one cares what becomes of me."</p> + +<p>"I know," said the gentle voice. "It ith +hard."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Miss Tupper," said Skippy, beginning +to be convinced of his own predestination +for the gallows, as he instinctively felt the +sentimental value of the rôle. "Men like myself +don't get a chance to know women like you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +I wish to heaven—" He stopped, a lump in +his throat, and gazed into the sentimental night. +Great heavens, what a depraved character he +really was! For the first time he saw himself +in the enormity of his sinning. It was not only +the cigarettes and the one black cigar, purloined +from his father, but the orgies at penny-ante, +the occasional game of craps back of Mather's +barn. Then he remembered other damning +episodes in his black record—the time he had +gone into a mathematics exam and read the +formulas from Buster Bean's collar; the night +he had helped Sport McGinnis smuggle a bottle +of beer in for a welsh rabbit and swallowed a +full third of the rank stuff. Then there was an +appalling record of evasions, turnings and +twistings of the exact and literal truth—</p> + +<p>"You can't be altogether bad if you're so +honeth," said Miss Jennie, in whom the instinct +was lively to bring the sinner home.</p> + +<p>"I am. I am," said Skippy lugubriously.</p> + +<p>"Can't I help—juth a little?"</p> + +<p>"Would you, would you really?" he said +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Let me—pleath."</p> + +<p>The plump little fingers came forth and met +the rough hand of the sinner. Skippy squeezed +them convulsively, not daring to trust his voice, +nodded twice and smiled bravely back in the +moonlight to show that the leaven of higher +things was already beginning to work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How'd you get on with Margarita?" he +asked Snorky when they retired for the night.</p> + +<p>"Margarita's a pippin!" said Snorky.</p> + +<p>"I squared you all right."</p> + +<p>"You bet you did! She came right up and +fed out of my hand. But, say, they swallowed +it all right."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"The dead game sporting life stuff."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. Got a cig?"</p> + +<p>"What? Oh yes. Get you one in a jiffy. +But say. Go easy. The governor and all that +sort of thing, you know."</p> + +<p>"Nerves sort of jumpy to-night," said +Skippy languidly. "Need a few whiffs to quiet +'em down."</p> + +<p>It was something new in his life, a good influence. +All his better nature rose up in response. +So summoning up his courage, he lit +a cigarette and tried to inhale—a desperate +character, worthy to be saved, certainly ought +to inhale! It was nauseating. It stung his +lungs and set his head to reeling. He left the +window and crawled over to the bed where he +lay weak but unconquered.</p> + +<p>"By jinks, I will inhale, I'll inhale to-morrow!" +he said, seeing always the uplifting +smile and the pure velvety eyes of Miss Jennie +as the room waltzed around him. "It's going +to be awfully hard living up to her, but I'll do +it if it kills me!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Living Up to an Angel</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>SKIPPY woke with a blood curdling shriek +and landed sprawling in the middle of the +floor, his legs caught in the sheets, his head +smothered in the comforter, a convulsive grip +on the bolster, which he was desperately trying +to stifle when Snorky flung himself out of bed +and rushed to the rescue.</div> + +<p>"Hold him back. Help Snorky! Hold him!"</p> + +<p>"Hold what, who?" said Snorky, pursuing +the smothered figure of Skippy, who was still +wrestling with the bolster. "Wake up. It's +me! It's Snorky."</p> + +<p>Skippy's grip relaxed and presently his +terror-stricken eyes emerged from the comforter.</p> + +<p>"Holy Maria! In another minute he'd have +had me in the electric chair," he said, wiping +the clammy perspiration from his forehead.</p> + +<p>"Nightmare eh?"</p> + +<p>"Ugh! Gee! Moses!"</p> + +<p>"Too much cigarette."</p> + +<p>"Golly, what a life I've been leading!" said +Skippy, referring to the dream. "Bar rooms +and gambling dens, dark lanterns, hold-ups, +racetracks and—"</p> + +<p>"Wake up, wake up!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's all in the dream," said Skippy sulkily. +Then he remembered that all through the +hideous phantasmagoria, in the smoky mists of +low gambling dens, in the drizzle of midnight +conclaves, across the sepulchral silences of +leaden prisons, there had flitted the beatific +vision of an angel with velvety eyes and the +softest of lisps.</p> + +<p>"Well, go on," said Snorky.</p> + +<p>"Can't remember any more," said Skippy. +Her name must be shielded at every cost.</p> + +<p>He had determined to be a lost character, a +wayward son, a gentleman sport, with nerves +of steel. The sentimental values appealed to +his imagination. It gave a deep romantic tinge +to the too matter-of-fact freckled nose and +hungry mouth. Besides the end was noble and +the end was Miss Jennie Tupper.</p> + +<p>The new rôle of course had certain exigencies. +To be an interesting reprobate and engage +Miss Jenny Tupper's sentimental proclivities +for redemption, it was necessary to present +some concrete evidence of a sinful life. He +was shockingly deficient in all the habits that +lead to the gallows. Desperate characters he +remembered (recalling the Doctor's terrific +sermons on the Demon Cigarettes which are +the nails in the coffins of mothers) usually +had their fingers stained with telltale traces of +the nicotine which was gnawing at their lungs.</p> + +<p>He ensconced himself by the fireplace (out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +deference to Snorky's estimate of the governor) +and taking care not to inhale, smoked a cigarette +to the end. But the result was unsatisfactory. +He burned his fingers over the distasteful performance +but acquired nothing in the way of a +stain. He smoked a second and a third and then +seized by an inspiration carefully rubbed in the +moist ends.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When they walked back from the beach that +morning Miss Jennie Tupper lost no time in +opening up the fascinating subject of the sinful +one's reclamation. Skippy had just brought +forth a cigarette, tapped it professionally on his +wrist and said:</p> + +<p>"Don't mind, do you?"</p> + +<p>"I do mind," said Miss Tupper severely. +"Juth look at your hand. It ith thaking."</p> + +<p>Skippy extended a palsied hand with the +second and third fingers yellowed like a Chinaman's.</p> + +<p>"It's worse this morning," he said carelessly +with the sigh of one who contemplates stoically +the approaching end.</p> + +<p>"It's tewible, tewible to let a habit make a +slave of you like that! At your age too! How +did it ever get such a dweadful hold on you?"</p> + +<p>"I began as a boy," said Skippy slowly, for +he had still to work out the story. "You know +how it is. Fast company, money in your pockets, +no one caring. That's it, that's how it was."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> + +<p>He raised the cigarette to his lips.</p> + +<p>"Don't smoke it, pleath."</p> + +<p>"Just one, just half a one," said Skippy with +a haunted look. "My Lord, it's been an +hour—"</p> + +<p>"Pleath for my thake, Jack."</p> + +<p>He hesitated, swallowed hard, made one +or two false gestures, and flung away the +cigarette.</p> + +<p>"If you ask it like that," he said huskily.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to athk more," said Miss Tupper +with shining eyes. "I'm going to athk you to +pwomith never to touch another thigawette or +another card."</p> + +<p>"I can't," said Skippy. "It's gone too far, +it's beyond me."</p> + +<p>"But it'll kill you, Jack," said Miss Tupper, +alarm in the beautiful eyes.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't promise. I couldn't keep it," +said Skippy, who had no intention of relinquishing +his dramatic advantage, "but I'll make a +fight for it. If you want me to—Jennie. If +you really care?"</p> + +<p>The moon ripple and the fragrance of the +honeysuckle were no longer about them. Miss +Tupper in the calmer light of the day considered +her words with due regard to precept +and standard.</p> + +<p>"I'll be vewy glad, indeed, to help you if I +can," she said properly. "We should alwayth +help ath much ath we can, shouldn't we?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How coldly you say it!" said Skippy indignantly.</p> + +<p>"But Jack," said Miss Tupper, alarmed at +the tragic look on his face. "Juth think how +little I know you."</p> + +<p>"You're quite right," said Skippy with +magnificent generosity. "I don't deserve more +and I had no right to say that. Well it was +white of you even to care this much." He took +off his hat and extended his hand.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?"</p> + +<p>"The only square thing by you," said Skippy +with a perfect Bret Harte manner. "It's been +bully to know you and I'll never forget about +that stud. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Do you want to make me vewy vewy unhappy?" +said Miss Jennie with a reproachful +look in the velvety eyes. Skippy returned the +hat at once to his head.</p> + +<p>"I'll do anything, anything for you," he said +huskily.</p> + +<p>Now there are two stages in the process of +returning the wandering sheep to the fold and +not the least interesting is the period of investigation. +Miss Tupper had worked in missions +with enthusiasm but there was something +in the present case which staggered her imagination. +How could a boy of sixteen, brought +up with all the advantages of a home and good +influences, have sunk so deeply into the mire of +evil? How could one be so depraved and yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +look at you with such an open, winning smile? +Was he inherently bad or just weak, just reaching +out blindly for some good influence to set +him right?</p> + +<p>"If I can help you," she said, leading the way +to a little summer house on the parsonage and +shuddering as she glanced down at the nicotine +stained fingers, "and I do want to help you—I'm +several years older than you are—you +muth tell me evewything."</p> + +<p>"I will, I want to," said Skippy, summoning +up all the powers of his imagination.</p> + +<p>"You know," said Miss Tupper, a little embarrassed, +"I heard, I couldn't help hearing +all you thaid that night on the boat."</p> + +<p>"You did. . . . Good heavens!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you don't want to tell me."</p> + +<p>"I might as well make a clean breast of it," +said Skippy, wondering where the exigencies +of the situation would lead him.</p> + +<p>"I'm afwaid Jack," said Miss Tupper sympathetically, +"that your fwiend Arthur Gween +ith not a vewy good influenth for you."</p> + +<p>"Snorky?" said Skippy momentarily surprised.</p> + +<p>"He theems to have vewy low athothiations," +said Miss Tupper earnestly.</p> + +<p>"You mean racing and jockeys and all that +sort of stuff?" said Skippy, willing to follow +the line of least resistance for a while. "Oh, +Arthur isn't half bad."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't think you thee him ath he weally +ith," said Miss Tupper firmly. "No I don't +think he ith at all the pwoper perthon for you to +be with."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't I help him?" said Skippy craftily. +"We should always try to help, shouldn't we?"</p> + +<p>"You would have to be vewy vewy stwong +for that, wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," said Skippy, with his mind +on the delicate arch of Miss Tupper's little foot.</p> + +<p>Miss Tupper, who was expectantly set for an +interesting confession, was somewhat disappointed +at the lengthy delay.</p> + +<p>"I'm afwaid your pawenth gave you too +much money," she said finally. "It ith tho +often that, ithn't it?"</p> + +<p>There were some things that were too much +even for Skippy's imagination. In the present +case it absolutely refused to follow such a lead.</p> + +<p>"No, it wasn't that," he said slowly. After +all it is only the first one hundred thousand lies +that are difficult. Skippy's hesitation was brief. +He remembered the episode of the fictitious +Tina Tanner that had so often served him in +delicate moments.</p> + +<p>"I almost made a wreck of my life," he began, +frowning terrifically.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," said Miss Tupper eagerly.</p> + +<p>"She wasn't a bad sort; only,—well stage +life is different."</p> + +<p>"Stage life! You mean—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She was an actress," said Skippy nodding.</p> + +<p>"But how—"</p> + +<p>"I ran away from home. They never understood +me. Family fight. Swore I'd never set +foot in the old house again. Cut for the +West. You get to see a rough side of life like +that you know, mining camps, mule drivers, +lumber men. Good sorts," he added reflectively, +"but wild, very wild. You couldn't +understand."</p> + +<p>"But your father and mother?" said Miss +Tupper, wide-eyed and thoroughly thrilled.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather not say anything against them," +said Skippy magnanimously.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy!"</p> + +<p>"I've kept pretty straight considering," +said Skippy, who did not wish to paint the +picture too black.</p> + +<p>"And the girl?" said Miss Tupper, who +could not restrain a perfectly feminine curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Tina? She wanted me to go on the stage +with her," said Skippy, who had now told the +story a sufficient number of times to begin to +believe in it. "It was touch and go. Well, I +didn't. That's all."</p> + +<p>"What a dweadful thide of life you've +theen," said Miss Tupper, appalled. "At your +age, too!"</p> + +<p>"I say, I never expected to tell any one this."</p> + +<p>"But aren't you glad you did? Don't you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +feel better now that you've told the twuth!" +said Miss Tupper enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>Skippy thought this over and acknowledged +finally that confession was a relief.</p> + +<p>"Now pwomise never, never to gamble, +smoke, or dwink. Pwomise, Jack. You don't +know how much better you'll feel."</p> + +<p>"I'm not strong on signing pledges and that +sort of thing," said Skippy cautiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, juth pwomise."</p> + +<p>"For how long?"</p> + +<p>"Until you're twenty-one."</p> + +<p>"I think it's better to promise what you're +sure you can carry out, don't you? It has a +better effect," said Skippy craftily. "Tell you +what I'll do. I'll make a promise for a year. +Only there's one thing."</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"I'll promise to try and cut out the smoking, +but it will have to be little by little."</p> + +<p>"Jack!"</p> + +<p>"My nerves won't stand it," said Skippy, +bringing forth the nicotine-splotched hand. +"I'll do my best. I will, I'll do it for you. +I'll cut down to a box a day."</p> + +<p>"A box?"</p> + +<p>"Ten cigarettes, only ten, but I must have +ten," said Skippy hungrily. "But Jennie, +you'll have to help a lot."</p> + +<p>"You'll pwomise then?"</p> + +<p>"I pwomise," said Skippy, falling into the lisp.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> + +<p>He extended his hand and profiting by the +solemnity of the moment held it with the softest +and gentlest of thrills, while he said slowly:</p> + +<p>"Ten cigarettes a day. No more. That's +my solemn promise."</p> + +<p>"But the gambling?" said Miss Jennie, disengaging +her hand.</p> + +<p>"That's another promise," said Skippy, +taking her hand again. "I promise for the +space of one year, never to sit in a game of +poker for money, never to shoot craps with +Tacks Brooker or Happy Mather. . . ."</p> + +<p>"Ith thith nethethawy?" said Miss Tupper +blushing and seeking to free her hand from the +not too painful embrace.</p> + +<p>"I want to be sure of everything," said +Skippy retaining tight hold. "Never to frequent +race tracks, that's a promise too, or to +bet on the ponies, or to go into pool rooms."</p> + +<p>"That's quite enough," said Miss Tupper, +glancing nervously up towards the veranda.</p> + +<p>"But I haven't promised to give up drinking +and all that sort of thing," said Skippy +enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>Miss Tupper, in whom a slight suspicion was +beginning to grow as to the exact motives back +of the sudden conversion, hesitated, but finally +put forth her hand a third time.</p> + +<p>"I promise," said Skippy, drawing a deep +breath and sailing away on perfumed clouds to +an invisible choir. "I want to make this something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +terrific; it's the most important you +know. I promise for the space of one year,—so +long as you care enough to answer my letters, +that's only fair you know—I promise never +to touch a drop of beer or ale, or whiskey, or +rum, or brandy, or sherry, or port, or. . ."</p> + +<p>"Alcohol in any form," said Miss Tupper, +the color of the rambler.</p> + +<p>"In any form. So help me God," said Skippy +slowly.</p> + +<p>"There," said Miss Tupper, somewhat +thrilled herself. "And now don't you feel +better, much, much better for having done it?"</p> + +<p>And Skippy answered truthfully,</p> + +<p>"You bet I feel better."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Skippy, indeed, would have sworn to anything +just for the look that lighted up the velvety +eyes in the joy of salvation. It is doubtful +if he even heard half of the program of his +future existence. There was something irresistible +in the softness of her eyes and the fascinating +lisp. He was face to face at last with +a good influence. He had met, not the type of +girl that men play with lightly or madly for a +month or a day, but a woman, the kind rough +coarse men look up to as to a polar star, the +kind of woman you think of winning after years +of struggle, that keeps men straight and their +thoughts on higher things, the kind of woman +that pulls a drunkard out of the gutter, reclaims<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +him and makes a genius out of the +wreck. He would be saved by her, he was +bound he would—no matter what sacrifices he +would have to make to keep in proper sinful +condition.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Sudden Interest in the Bible</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>SNORKY GREEN had experienced so many +shocks in his intimate contact with his +chum's imagination that he had come to believe +the future could hold no surprises for +him. But that evening Skippy after a long +searching through bookcases said with a worried +air:</div> + +<p>"I say, Snorky, where do you keep the +Bible?"</p> + +<p>"The—the Bible?" said Snorky faintly.</p> + +<p>"Sure, the Bible."</p> + +<p>Snorky's first thought was that Skippy must +be the victim of a secret malady and ready +to make his will. His next was even more +alarming.</p> + +<p>"You're not thinking of anything rash, are +you, old horse?"</p> + +<p>"What the deuce?"</p> + +<p>"You and Jennie?"</p> + +<p>"What the Sam Blazes are you driving +at?"</p> + +<p>"Thought you were looking up the marriage +service," said Snorky facetiously.</p> + +<p>"Shucks, no. Nothing of the sort. I just, +I just want to look up a reference."</p> + +<p>"What reference?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's of a personal nature, very personal," +said Skippy.</p> + +<p>At the end of an hour's search Snorky finally +produced a Bible from the cook and watched +Skippy turn through the pages in a perplexed +manner.</p> + +<p>"I've watched that coot do some queer +things," he thought, scratching his ear, "but +I'll be jiggswiggered if I can figure out what +he's up to now."</p> + +<p>At the end of half an hour Skippy looked up +nonplussed.</p> + +<p>"What do you know about the Bible, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"I know a lot," said Snorky astutely.</p> + +<p>"Where do you get the ten commandments, +anyhow?"</p> + +<p>Snorky repeated the question, more and more +perplexed.</p> + +<p>"Why it's in Genesis isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Naw, I looked all through that."</p> + +<p>"How about Solomon? He was wise to +everything."</p> + +<p>"Who was the guy who went up to Heaven? +Perhaps he got 'em."</p> + +<p>"Let's ask the cook."</p> + +<p>Which was done.</p> + +<p>"Now what in the Sam Hill has Skippy to +do with the ten commandments or the ten commandments +with Skippy?" said Snorky, observing +the extraordinary concentration on his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +chum's face as he considered them carefully +one by one. "Perhaps the heat has hit him and +he's going in for religion."</p> + +<p>The explanation of Skippy's eccentric taste +was a perfectly simple one. No sooner had +he departed from the lovely presence of Miss +Jennie Tupper with only the vaguest idea +of what he had pledged himself not to do, but +with the liveliest and most disturbing memory +of the softest of hands, than he had bitterly repented +the prodigal manner in which he had +thrown away his opportunities.</p> + +<p>"Why the deuce didn't I save something +out," he said to himself angrily, with a sudden +recollection of moonlight nights to come. "My +aunt's cat's pants, but I certainly went to +sleep."</p> + +<p>From the parsonage to the Greens', from +the soup to the watermelon, but one idea obsessed +him: how was he to find something else +to swear off? For instinct, which supplants +reason in such sentimental voyages, warned him +that to such a professional reformer as Miss +Jennie Tupper his sole fascination lay in a +lively display of original sin.</p> + +<p>The more he thought it over the more depressed +he had become. The truth was that he +had outrageously neglected his opportunities +and had little to offer. All he could do was to +fall back on his imagination and such knowledge +of the world as returned to him from an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +extensive preparation in modern fiction. The +trouble with his imagination was it worked too +spontaneously. How much better he could have +done with a little more preparation!</p> + +<p>"Gee, I never knew a hand could give you +such a fuzzy feeling," he said with a heavy +sigh.</p> + +<p>It was then that he had thought of the Bible +and the ten commandments with much resulting +perplexity to Snorky.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be eternally dog-switched," he +said all at once. "I never would have believed +it!"</p> + +<p>"Believed what?" said Snorky, who was +waiting patiently.</p> + +<p>"Say, these are the ten commandments, +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'are't'">aren't</ins> they?"</p> + +<p>"Sure they are!"</p> + +<p>"Genuine, bona-fide, patent applied for, no +imitations, only original ten commandments?"</p> + +<p>"Keerect."</p> + +<p>"Well do you know there isn't a thing in +them about cigarettes, or booze or penny-ante. +Not a word!"</p> + +<p>"Honest?"</p> + +<p>"Read 'em yourself," said Skippy indignantly. +"It's all about being nice to your +neighbor and sitting still on Sunday."</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"Fact!" said Skippy, whose real irritation +was caused by the fact that the ten commandments<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +did not afford him any suggestion in his +new predicament.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Snorky slapped his shoulder with +a resounding whack.</p> + +<p>"I'm on."</p> + +<p>"Ouch! On to what?"</p> + +<p>"Own up! I'm in the same box too," said +Snorky with a smirk.</p> + +<p>"You mean?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, Margarita's trying the reform racket +on me too!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she is?" said Skippy, who did not like +sharing the honors of a stellar rôle.</p> + +<p>"Yep, and you must have been laying it on +strong for Margarita's been asking all sorts of +questions about you."</p> + +<p>"Snorky, go the limit—make it strong and +stronger," said Skippy, brightening up.</p> + +<p>"Honest?"</p> + +<p>"The limit!"</p> + +<p>"I get you."</p> + +<p>Skippy took a few steps towards the door and +reflected.</p> + +<p>"When I say the limit—" he said doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Leave it to me."</p> + +<p>"There are some things though."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry—trust me."</p> + +<p>"Well, however, I say,—don't get rash."</p> + +<p>"Keep on trusting me," said Snorky with an +airy wave of his hand.</p> + +<p>Something in the repetition struck Skippy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +where he was the weakest, in that wholesouled +faith which should sanctify the friendship of a +lifetime. The more he considered it the less he +liked it.</p> + +<p>"I have made a mistake," he said frowning. +"Snorky has no sense of discretion."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Way of the Transgressor</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>MISS JENNIE TUPPER at the end of a +week acknowledged to herself with an +uneasy sense of her own shortcomings that +the task of keeping Mr. Skippy Bedelle in +the straight and narrow path was one beyond +her limited experience. It was not that +she had lost confidence in her own efficiency, +but that she anxiously asked herself if she +could afford the time and the effort. Skippy +was all for the better life and yielded at +once to her suggestions. The trouble was +in his staying put, as it is colloquially expressed. +Each evening the cure was complete, +but each morning the conversation had +to begin all over. The hold that his past life +had taken upon him was simply staggering +and the hankering for the excitement of the +gambling table or the struggle against the +narcotic tyranny of the demon cigarette was +such that at times she had to sit long moments +holding his storm-racked and shaking hand +while he fought bravely against the maddening +appetite! And after a week of the closest +personal attention he had only cut down the +allowance of cigarettes to seven a day!</div> + +<p>Now Miss Tupper was upright and God-fearing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +and self-respecting, and though there was +a difference of three years all in her favor, she, +unlike some of her sex, scorned the use of her +personal attractions, simply for the sake of a +personal vanity, nor was she a collector of male +scalps. She was in a moral quandary of the +most metaphysical complexity. What should +she do: shirk her evident moral responsibility +and allow a bravely battling human soul to sink +into iniquity or continue and permit a most +susceptible youngster to immerse himself +deeper and deeper into a hopeless passion?</p> + +<p>Each day she came to the task of regenerating +Mr. Skippy Bedelle resolved to conduct +the proceedings on the grounds of the strictest +formality, and each evening she admitted to +herself the failure. Yet could she honestly +blame herself? She gave him her female sewing-society +pin to wear not as a personal token +but solely as a daily reminder of the promises +he had made to himself. She gave him a tie, +a colored handkerchief and the sweater she had +just finished for another destination. But each +was given as a reward and marked a triumphant +progress in his fight to acquire a final +mastery over himself. When, however, Skippy +brought up the question of a photograph, a +crisis was reached.</p> + +<p>"I have never never given my picture to any +man," she said firmly, and the absence of sibilants +made it doubly impressive. "And I never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +never will. Bethideth, you know I would have +to tell my mother."</p> + +<p>They were sitting in the summer house at +that romantic hour when the first day stars arrive +with the mosquitoes. It was always at +such moments that the craving was strongest. +She had begun by holding his wrist in a strong +encircling clasp but the sight of his twitching +contorted fingers had been too much for her +sensibilities and her hand had slipped into a +more intimate clasp.</p> + +<p>"After all he's only a boy," she had said to +herself.</p> + +<p>"Jennie! how can you—don't you—do you +realize all I'm doing—just for you?" said +Skippy, whose voice at such moments was not +under control.</p> + +<p>"No, no, you ought to do it for yourself, +becauth it ith the right thing to do, becauth it +will make you feel stwonger and finer."</p> + +<p>"Nope, it's you or nothing."</p> + +<p>"Jack, you muthn't thay thuch thingth. I +muthn't let you!"</p> + +<p>"It is the first time I've ever cared what became +of me," said Skippy lugubriously. "You +don't know what that pin means to me."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Do you realize what I'm going back to? +Old associations, old habits and a long, long, +fight! And then there's Snorky. I've got to +save him too."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But Jack—"</p> + +<p>"I'm not asking for anything more than just +your picture, nothing more,—nothing that commits +you to anything! But I do want that, I +must have that! I want to rise up every morning +and remember and, and I want to come back +every night and know that I can face your +eyes," said Skippy warming up. "I say it must +be a full face, not a profile, you know."</p> + +<p>"I haven't thaid I would," said Miss Jennie +in dreadful perplexity.</p> + +<p>"But you will."</p> + +<p>There was a long silence.</p> + +<p>"You will, won't you!"</p> + +<p>"I—I will think it over," said Miss Tupper +finally, remembering the terrific report which +her sister had brought her via Snorky Green. +"I will give you my dethition after thupper."</p> + +<p>That evening, Skippy, excusing himself from +Snorky, who was taking Margarita to a lecture +on the fauna and flora of Yucatan, set out for +the parsonage with a thumping heart. If the +truth be told he was not altogether convinced +of the durability of his attraction for Miss +Jennie, but he was quite certain of one thing, if +there was even a sporting chance of Snorky's +adding the blonde sister to his photographic +gallery in the communal room in the Kennedy +House, he could never confess failure! The +state of his own emotion perplexed him. When +he was away, he could look on with a certain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +amused calm as though the whole thing were +but a fascinating game. Indeed, at times he +felt gorgeously, terrifically guilty, the gayest +and blackest of black Lotharios. Yet no sooner +had he looked into the soft velvety eyes and felt +the touch of her warm fingers than he was certain, +absolutely certain that his life's decision +had been made, that he wanted to stand forth +as a man of the strongest character, and slowly +and patiently struggle upward to those heights +where serenely she would wait for him.</p> + +<p>He consumed three cigarettes—rapidly and +faithfully, to make up the seven of the daily +quota, mutually agreed upon; flicked the dust +off his shoes with his handkerchief, tightened +his belt and his tie, and, having fanned himself +with his hat, found at last the courage to tread +the noisy gravel and ring the bell. On his way +he had built up a dozen eloquent conversations, +but all memory of things tender and convincing +were forgotten as he ventured over the slippery +floor of the parlor and beheld at the side of +Jennie a large blown-up, thin-haired male +visitor in ecclesiastical black, who was introduced +to him as the Rev. Percy Tuptale.</p> + +<p>Intuition is a strange thing that fortunately +returns to lovers, drunkards and children in +their hour of need. From the first touch of her +hand and the first look into her face Skippy +knew that a crisis had arrived. Mr. Tuptale +was so placidly and professionally at ease and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +Miss Tupper so nervously and unsibilantly conversational +that the conversation bubbled on +like a kettle steaming in a distant room. He +nodded once or twice, Mr. Tuptale fingered a +magazine while Jennie ran on softening the s's.</p> + +<p>"Something awful is going to happen," +thought Skippy, staring at the biblical engravings +on the wall. "They're going to try to +make me give back that pin."</p> + +<p>Miss Tupper stood up. Skippy stood up. +Mr. Tuptale stood up.</p> + +<p>"Jack, I have taken a therious, a vewy therious +thep," said Miss Tupper flushing. "I do +want to help you tho much but, but I have +thought, that ith, I am afwaid I know tho little +how. You may think it dweadful of me—"</p> + +<p>She paused and Skippy frozen to the marrow +said icily,</p> + +<p>"Yes, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"I have gone to Mr. Tuptale—to Perthy for +advithe. I, I had to."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," said Skippy loftily. "Is Mr. +Tuptale, are you,—is he?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yeth," said Jennie, blushing, while a +smile spread enormously over Mr. Tuptale's +features.</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>"You thee that ith why," said Jennie hastily, +"and, oh Jack, I do want you to talk to him, +juth ath you talked to me. Tell him evwything. +He ith tho helpful and tho underthanding."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> + +<p>She swayed from one foot to another and +glanced from the boy to the man, undecided.</p> + +<p>"Jennie, dear," said Mr. Tuptale with surgical +ease, "I think ahem—suppose you let us +talk this over together. It would be easier, +wouldn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yeth, indeed!"</p> + +<p>The next moment they were alone.</p> + +<p>"And now my boy," said Mr. Tuptale +blandly. "Come, sit down. Let's have it out +like man to man."</p> + +<p>Skippy did not at once comply. He walked +slowly around the red plush rocker and then +back to the bamboo fire-screen and rested his +elbows lightly upon it and glowered at the all-unconscious +curate, murder in his heart.</p> + +<p>"Jennie is very fond of you, Jack," said Mr. +Tuptale, caging his fingers. "She has a warm +and sympathetic nature, a big heart, and I can +quite understand how deeply concerned she is +in the brave fight you are making. I want you +to accept me as a friend, a real friend. I know +men and I know what temptations are, early +associations, acquired habits. Jack, my boy, +there is nothing really wrong in you. I saw +that the moment you came into the room."</p> + +<p>"Who said there was—pray?" said Skippy, +whose hands were trembling with rage.</p> + +<p>Mr. Tuptale looked up quickly, frowned and +said:</p> + +<p>"Jennie has told me all—naturally."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She told you I gambled."</p> + +<p>"She did."</p> + +<p>"She told you I drank, and she told you I +smoked."</p> + +<p>"She did, of course, and I consider it was her +duty to do so."</p> + +<p>"Well is there anything wrong in that, I ask +you?"</p> + +<p>"Anything wrong in gambling, drunkenness, +steeping oneself with tobacco until your hand +shakes like a leaf?" said Mr. Tuptale, rising.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Do you know your ten commandments, +sir?"</p> + +<p>"Are you insulting me, sir?" said the curate, +yielding to a perfectly natural irritation.</p> + +<p>"Kindly point out to me in the ten commandments +where any habit of mine is forbidden," +said Skippy with the most impressive of declamatory +attitudes.</p> + +<p>Mr. Tuptale's jaw dropped, twice he tried to +answer and twice remained inarticulate.</p> + +<p>Skippy possessed himself of his hat and +bowed in scorn.</p> + +<p>"You will kindly restore to Miss Tupper this +pin," he said, producing it after a struggle with +his tie. "Also inform her that I shall immediately +send back to her other articles I need not +now specify. Thank you for your interest in +my case but it is quite unnecessary—quite. +I can stand by the ten commandments. Good +night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> + +<p>He went down the scrunching gravel and +slammed the gate.</p> + +<p>"And there is more, sir," he exclaimed aloud, +forgetting that he was now alone. "One thing +more. You can tell Miss Tupper that even +among the lowest of my associates, gamblers +and drunkards and race-track sharks though +they be, a promise given is sacred, sacred, sir, +and the man who breaks it is, is, is—"</p> + +<p>But here rage quite overtook him and he +picked up a stone and flung it at an inoffensive +tree.</p> + +<p>"It's all Snorky!" he said in the swift progress +of moods. "I knew he'd overdo it! Holy +Mike, what in Sam Hill did he tell Margarita! +He must have—he—" But again imagination +failed him and he proceeded on his way, fists +sunk in his pockets, sliding along gloomy lanes.</p> + +<p>"And I believed I had met a good woman!" +he said bitterly. "Faugh, they're all alike. +Well, I don't care what does become of me. +Serve her right if I went plump to the bad. +And by jingo, I'll do it too!"</p> + +<p>Whereupon, having resolved upon a life of +crime, he plunged his hand into his pocket and +cast from him the now unnecessary cigarettes!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Scalp Hunter</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>SKIPPY in his sentimental progress had now +reached the point where if he could not control +the impulses of his sentiments he could at +least review the past with some instructive +profit.</div> + +<p>"Girls are queer things, aren't they?" he +said ruminatively to Snorky Green, for the +mood of confidence was on him.</p> + +<p>"Queerer and queerier," said Snorky, considering +the bosom of last night's dress shirt +with a view to future service.</p> + +<p>"They get you before you know it and as +soon as they get you they worry the life out of +you. One way or the other they start to making +you miserable just as soon as you show +them you've fallen for them. Now why?"</p> + +<p>"Woman has no sense of gratitude," said +Snorky, who had heard the phrase from a +brother who had suffered.</p> + +<p>"And you can't be friends with them—well +you know, just friends."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Snorky heavily.</p> + +<p>"What gets me," said Skippy, "is why we +fall and fall and fall."</p> + +<p>"Habit."</p> + +<p>"Well, perhaps."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sure, habit, that's all."</p> + +<p>"But this is the queerest of all," said Skippy, +yawning and stretching his arms deliciously. +"How darned fine you feel when it's all over. +You go to bed thinking the bottom's been +kicked out of things and you wake up feeling +so Jim dandy rip-roarin' chuck full of happiness +that you wonder what's happened, and +then you remember that you're cured! Your +time's your own. You can wear, do and say +what you like, spend your money on yourself. +You're free! Now it is queer, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Like having a tooth out?" said Snorky.</p> + +<p>"Exactly."</p> + +<p>"Say, what story did you cook up about me +to Margarita Tupper?" said Skippy, tying the +white cravat for the sixth time.</p> + +<p>"Bygones is bygones," said Snorky evasively.</p> + +<p>"You must have had me robbin' a coach or +skinning a cat," said Skippy encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"You were throwing yourself away there, +old top," said Snorky, avoiding the direct +answer. "Why in another week you'd a been +reading little Rollo and taking to crocheting—a +girl who lisps like that, too! Whatever was +eating you, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"She talked like a shower bath," said Skippy +unfeelingly, "but her eyes were lovely. Well, +that's over."</p> + +<p>"What's the use? You'll fall again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Never," said Skippy firmly. Then he qualified +it. "That is, not in the same way."</p> + +<p>"There ain't no two ways."</p> + +<p>"Sure there is. It's like swimming. You +can dive in or you can sit on the bank and splash +with your toes—Savvy?"</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"Wait and see. I know a thing or two."</p> + +<p>Twenty minutes later, having assumed the +full glories of evening dress (with studs of the +good old-fashioned style that remained anchored), +they departed for dinner at the Balous +across the way.</p> + +<p>"Say, put me on," said Skippy, who like all +artists of the imagination was seized with an +uncontrollable nervousness before facing an +audience. "Who's in the party?"</p> + +<p>"Only Charlie and Vivi."</p> + +<p>"Vivi?"</p> + +<p>"Real name's Violet but she's dressed it +up."</p> + +<p>"What's she like? What's her line?"</p> + +<p>"Stiff as a ramrod—prim as an old maid, +conversation strictly educational."</p> + +<p>"Well, what does she look like?"</p> + +<p>"Flabby as a cart-horse."</p> + +<p>"Say, what the devil—"</p> + +<p>"Grub's o.k. and there'll be fun after," said +Snorky by way of justification.</p> + +<p>"How's the old folks?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Balou? He's a terror, gives you the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +willies. If he doesn't freeze you the old girl +will."</p> + +<p>Skippy's traditional scepticism of any statement +with the Snorky stamp would have warned +him at any other time. But this being in a way +a new experience in strange waters, his nervousness +got the better of him. Halfway up +the driveway he plucked Snorky's sleeve.</p> + +<p>"Listen."</p> + +<p>"Let go me arm you chump."</p> + +<p>"What do you say to them?"</p> + +<p>"Say to whom?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. and Mrs."</p> + +<p>"Talk about the weather, you ignoramus."</p> + +<p>"Sure I know that, but afterwards, at dinner, +what do you talk about there?"</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, that's what girls are for."</p> + +<p>Despite which advice, Skippy nervously ran +over his conversational ammunition. There +was of course Maude Adams to begin with. +He tried hard to think of some book he had read—some +work of sufficient dullness to serve up +to this blue stocking atmosphere.</p> + +<p>"Stop shootin' your cuff," said Snorky, applying +his finger to the bell. "Don't you know +anything about society?"</p> + +<p>"Who's nervous?" said Skippy indignantly.</p> + +<p>His backbone stiffened to the consistency of +the white manacle that imprisoned his throat, +he brushed the slight powder of the dust from +the shining patent leathers, which in the fashion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +of the day extended in long pointed toes, shot +back his cuffs for the twentieth time, felt surreptitiously +to assure himself that his part was +functioning properly and slid behind Snorky +Green as he entered the parlor.</p> + +<p>Something that was neither prim nor stiff +nor in the least resembled a cart-horse bore +down on them with a swish of ruffled skirts.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Arthur, how nice of you to come. +Dad and Mumsy are out so we're all to ourselves," +said Miss Vivi Balou. "Mr. Bedelle? +Oh I've heard a lot about <i>you!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Really now, what do you mean?" said +Skippy, with a long breath of relief.</p> + +<p>Miss Balou held his hand just an extra minute +as she said this, looking up into his face with an +expression of the greatest interest. She was +just over five feet, of the dreaded species of +brunettes, with a thin, upward pointing little +nose and the brightest of eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh I know a terrible lot," she said, giving +to her mischievous glance just the slightest, +most complimentary shade of apprehension.</p> + +<p>Mr. Skippy Bedelle grew two inches toward +the ceiling and looked for a mirror.</p> + +<p>Two strictly plain young ladies, roommates +of Miss Balou's from Farmington, with large +black sash bows in their hair, were introduced +as Miss Barrons and Miss Cantillon.</p> + +<p>"Elsa Barrons is perfectly wonderful with +the dumb-bells, look at her forearm, and Fanny<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +isn't good looking but awfully clever," said +Miss Balou in a whisper which was already +confidential.</p> + +<p>Brother Charles now sauntered in and shook +hands with the magnificent condescension of a +sophomore.</p> + +<p>"Have a cigarette before dinner?"</p> + +<p>He flashed a silver case and tendered it to +Snorky, who being unprepared, hesitated, and +took one.</p> + +<p>"Cigarette?"</p> + +<p>"Love to but I'm in training," said Skippy.</p> + +<p>Charles, having arrived at the age when +everything should weigh heavily upon a sophisticated +appetite, bored with his sister, bored +with sister's plain looking friends and bored +with sister's beaux, retired to the fireplace, +where he draped himself on the mantelpiece +and looked properly bored with himself, an +illusion of greatness which was peculiarly impressive +to tadpole imaginations.</p> + +<p>The arduities of the opening conversation +were fortunately interrupted by the announcement +of dinner and Skippy, with Maude Adams +in reserve, found himself at table between Miss +Balou and the swinger of dumb-bells.</p> + +<p>"You're a Princeton man?" said Miss Barrons +after several long breaths.</p> + +<p>Skippy apportioned the compliment to his +manly air and the magnificent lines of the +dress suit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, I'm Yale. That is I'm preparing," he +said carelessly, and hoping that Snorky wasn't +listening he added: "Family didn't want me +to go in too young, you know."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I know," said Miss Barrons with an +appreciative glance at his precocious brow. "I +think that's much better too. You don't have +half as good a time if you go to college too +young."</p> + +<p>"Eighteen's about right," said Skippy in a +more mature manner.</p> + +<p>The subject being exhausted Skippy counted +up the forks while his companion, to appear at +ease, asked for the salt to put in her soup.</p> + +<p>"Do you know Jim Fisher?" she said suddenly. +"He's going to Yale next year."</p> + +<p>Skippy did not know Jim Fisher.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if you know a perfectly dandy +girl?"</p> + +<p>"Who's that?"</p> + +<p>"Alice Parks."</p> + +<p>Skippy did not know Alice Parks, though she +lived in New York City. Likewise with a growing +feeling of his profound social ignorance, he +successively admitted that he did not know +Cornelia Baxter, Frances Bowen or Harry Fall. +Whereupon Miss Barrons abandoned him to +converse with Charles who did know Alice +Parks who was so attractive and Harry Fall +who had such a strong character.</p> + +<p>"What the devil is there to talk about," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +Skippy to himself as he fidgeted with the soup. +"What an awful bore society is."</p> + +<p>There was Maude Adams, but how was he to +get to her?</p> + +<p>"I'm just crazy about harps," said Miss +Cantillon, who was clever. "I think they're +wonderful."</p> + +<p>"Harps—oh yes," said Charles Balou.</p> + +<p>Miss Cantillon appealed to the table.</p> + +<p>"Do you like them better than violins?" said +Miss Barrons doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh much better!"</p> + +<p>"They're too big," said Snorky wisely.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is the trouble. It's a perfect +shame too. They are too big to carry round but +they are so melodious. I don't like the piano—it's +so cold—"</p> + +<p>While the conversation raged on the proper +classification of musical instruments, Miss +Balou turned from Snorky to Skippy and +looked him once more in the eyes with her interested +glance.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've heard a lot about you," she said +with a knowing look.</p> + +<p>"Really now?"</p> + +<p>"You're a perfectly ghastly flirt," she said, +lowering her voice. "You give a girl a terrific +rush for a week or two and then pop off without +even saying good-bye. Never mind though. +I'm warned."</p> + +<p>Again the look, the interested look of trying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +to discover the secret of his fascination. It was +quite unlike the way any other girl had ever +looked at him. Other girls looked at you side-wise +or averted their eyes when they met yours. +But this was different. It was mocking, impertinent, +insinuating, but it did not displease +him. He saw that he had made an impression, +an instantaneous impression. He mystified her +perhaps but he interested her intensely. For +the first time he had conquered with a look.</p> + +<p>"Who told you?"</p> + +<p>"That's telling."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet I know."</p> + +<p>"Bet you don't."</p> + +<p>"Bet I do."</p> + +<p>"What'll you bet?"</p> + +<p>"Two pounds of chocolates against a necktie."</p> + +<p>"Done, who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Some one here."</p> + +<p>"Nope. You've lost."</p> + +<p>"Who then?"</p> + +<p>"Some one who knows Dolly Travers," said +Vivi with a mocking smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>"Brute," said Vivi in the greatest admiration.</p> + +<p>"Really I—"</p> + +<p>"Now don't be modest—I hate modest men. +It makes it twice as bad. She's very attractive, +isn't she?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very," said Skippy, feeling every inch a +man.</p> + +<p>"But she's rather young—for you, isn't +she?" said Vivi artfully.</p> + +<p>"They put glasses on cows in Russia," said +Miss Cantillon importantly. She had a reputation +as a brilliant conversationalist to uphold.</p> + +<p>This assertion woke up the table.</p> + +<p>"Cows?"</p> + +<p>"Glasses?"</p> + +<p>"Fanny dear, how excruciating!"</p> + +<p>Even the sophomore was surprised into expressing +his incredulity.</p> + +<p>"Colored glasses on account of the glare of +the snow," said Miss Cantillon.</p> + +<p>"Fanny!"</p> + +<p>"Fact, in Siberia. I read it in the papers."</p> + +<p>"Cows can't live in the snow."</p> + +<p>"But Siberia isn't all snow."</p> + +<p>"Most of it is."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it wonderful the things she knows?" +said Vivi admiringly. "Do you like brainy +women?"</p> + +<p>"That depends," said Skippy while he +stopped to consider. "I don't know any."</p> + +<p>"Oh what a dreadful cynical remark!" said +Vivi with another admiring look. "Heavens, +I shall be frightened to death what I say to +you. I'm sure you're awfully clever yourself. +Perhaps I'll have a chance. Clever men hate +clever women, don't they?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There is certainly something about my particular +style of beauty that's bowled her over," +thought Skippy to himself.</p> + +<p>"Oh I don't know," he said, fatuously unconscious +of the virtues he conceded to himself. +"Dolly Travers was quite clever, you know."</p> + +<p>"Brute!" said Miss Balou for the second +time.</p> + +<p>"Oh come now—"</p> + +<p>"Do you know what I think about you?"</p> + +<p>"What do you think?"</p> + +<p>"I think you'd be lots of excitement at a +house party," said Miss Vivi, shaking her head. +"Just for a few days. I think you'd give a girl +the grandest sort of a rush, but as for believing +a word you said—never!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" said Skippy, immensely +puffed up.</p> + +<p>"It shows in your eyes," said Vivi with a +look of having at last deciphered the mystery. +"Besides, girls have spoiled you. You have +had things too easily. No wonder you're conceited."</p> + +<p>Miss Cantillon was discoursing brilliantly on +a crow that had been struck by lightning in +Oklahoma and had fallen into a wheat field and +set fire to the grain, which had precipitated a +conflagration which had necessitated calling +out the fire departments of two counties.</p> + +<p>"You're offended now," said Vivi in a contrite +whisper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Some one's given you an awfully bad opinion +of me," said Skippy stiffly, frowning to +show the displeasure he did not feel.</p> + +<p>"Well it's true, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It is not!"</p> + +<p>"How about Jennie Tupper?"</p> + +<p>"Oh that!" said Skippy burying the memory +with a wave of his hand.</p> + +<p>"You see you <i>are</i> a brute! Well I don't +mind. I like your hands."</p> + +<p>Skippy took a precautionary glance at the +ends of his baseball fingers and then allowed +them to come to rest on the tablecloth.</p> + +<p>"Now you're trying to jolly me," he said +astutely.</p> + +<p>"No. I always notice hands the first thing. +They tell so much about your character. I saw +yours at once."</p> + +<p>"You can read hands?" said Skippy, who +knew this much of the etiquette of the game.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but not now," said Vivi in a promissory +tone.</p> + +<p>Skippy's attitude towards social functions +underwent a change of front. He began to feel +confidently, vaingloriously at ease. He joined +in the general conversation determined to rout +the brilliant Miss Cantillon, who knew so many +things. Now the rule for such preëminence is +simple and some acquire it by cunning and +others by instinct. Deny the obvious. Reputations +have fattened on nothing else. When inevitably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +the moment arrived to discuss Maude +Adams, and her latest play, Skippy announced +that he did not like Maude Adams.</p> + +<p>"Not like Maude Adams!"</p> + +<p>There was a sudden silence and all eyes +were turned expectantly toward him as to a +manifestly superior intelligence. Finally the +swinger of dumb-bells voiced the question.</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>Skippy considered.</p> + +<p>"Too much like Maude Adams," he said +cryptically.</p> + +<p>Vivi looked at him in admiration.</p> + +<p>"How clever, I never thought of that."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm just frantic about Maude +Adams!" said the athletic Miss Barrons stubbornly.</p> + +<p>"Because you like Maude Adams," said +Skippy as a clincher.</p> + +<p>By one bold stroke he had become a personage +and what is more perceived that he had +become one. Different topics were served up +for his judgment. He pronounced flatly against +colleges for women, woman suffrage and bobbed +hair, predicted the election of Mr. Bryan and +the probable division of the United States into +four separate republics. Even Snorky Green, +who was floundering along on the subject of +blazers <i>vs.</i> sweaters, was impressed, and as for +Miss Cantillon, she tried to stir up a little commotion +by introducing the subject of The Lady<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +from Narragansett who had removed freckles +by watermelon rinds, but the effect was tepid +and she relapsed into a listener.</p> + +<p>"Say, where did you get it?" said Snorky in +a whisper as they passed out to the veranda.</p> + +<p>"Get what?"</p> + +<p>"All this bright boy stuff! Why you're the +little boy orator yourself."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you how it's done sometime," said +Skippy magnificently.</p> + +<p>"Do you like views?" said Vivi, coming to +him as a moth to the brightest flame.</p> + +<p>"That depends," said Skippy, who being still +in a mood of negation was unwilling to concede +anything.</p> + +<p>Miss Vivi accepted this as acquiescence and, +it being early moonlight and dangerous underfoot, +took his hand to lead him safely around +the flower beds. Skippy having just discovered +the secret to success encased himself +in indifference and waited developments.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it romantic! Don't you <i>love</i> it?" she +said, arrived at a little summer house that +jutted out over the darkling waters.</p> + +<p>"It's rather nice," said Skippy, sternly repressing +his emotional tendencies.</p> + +<p>Vivi now ostentatiously disengaged her hand.</p> + +<p>"Please."</p> + +<p>"Is it safe now?" said Skippy anxiously.</p> + +<p>"How perfectly horrid of you," said the +young lady in pretended indignation. "You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +make fun of everything, even the most sacred +things."</p> + +<p>The relevancy of this was lost on Skippy +who condescended to say,</p> + +<p>"View isn't half bad if the moon weren't so +dreadfully lopsided."</p> + +<p>"Unsentimental wretch! I suppose you want +to go back?" said Vivi reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Are there mosquitoes?"</p> + +<p>"Just for that I'll keep you here until +you're eaten up," said Vivi, plucking a spray +of honeysuckle and inhaling it with a sigh. +"Isn't it wonderful, don't you adore honeysuckle +in the moonlight?" she added, transferring +it to his inspection.</p> + +<p>Skippy inhaled it loudly and announced that +it was all right.</p> + +<p>"Jelly fish," said Vivi throwing it away indignantly.</p> + +<p>Skippy resented "jelly fish."</p> + +<p>"Well you are! I never saw such a cold +calculating unemotional brute. You're nothing +but a great big icy brain."</p> + +<p>Skippy thought of the Roman and a hundred +flunkings.</p> + +<p>"Better pull in on the infant phenom—Snorky +might hear of it," he thought.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I like it here," he said in a more romantic +tone.</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> + +<p>A long silence and Vivi inhaled another sprig +of honeysuckle and devoured the moon.</p> + +<p>"How long you going to stay?"</p> + +<p>"About a week."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>Another silence.</p> + +<p>"You're so different."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Don't know but you are—quite, quite +different. You seem so much older than +Arthur."</p> + +<p>"Well that all depends," said Skippy, ready +to draw on his imagination.</p> + +<p>"You've seen a lot of life, haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"I saw that—in your hands."</p> + +<p>"I say, how about reading my character +now?"</p> + +<p>"No, not now, sometime later, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"Well I don't know if I'd dare. What are +you doing to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing particular."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we get up a hay ride and a picnic. +The moon will be glorious."</p> + +<p>"Bacon and roast corn? Hurray!" said +Skippy, most unromantically.</p> + +<p>Vivi got up suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Let's go back."</p> + +<p>"All right, but it's awfully dark."</p> + +<p>"Follow me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> + +<p>Skippy walked purposely into the first flower +bed.</p> + +<p>"Help, I'm lost!"</p> + +<p>Vivi stood considering.</p> + +<p>"Are you sorry?"</p> + +<p>"Dreadfully. Ouch, I'm in a rose bush!"</p> + +<p>"And you promise not to be cynical and +aloof?"</p> + +<p>"Cross my heart and hope to die," said +Skippy, very well pleased with himself.</p> + +<p>Immediately the hand was offered and retained. +To be magnanimous he gave it a little +extra squeeze.</p> + +<p>"That's not fair," said Vivi.</p> + +<p>"All's fair in love and war," said Skippy +who, under the influence of outward conditions, +momentarily forgot his rôle.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"My aunt's cat's pants," said Snorky enviously, +when they had departed. "You're +getting to be a rapid worker, old top, you certainly +are!"</p> + +<p>"Oh I've learned a thing or two," said +Skippy pompously.</p> + +<p>"Splash with your toes, old horse," said +Snorky, shaking his head. "Look out, Vivi's +an old stager. She collects them."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Scalps," said Snorky with a significant +gesture.</p> + +<p>"Just watch me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't say so."</p> + +<p>"I've got her feeding out of my hand, gentle +as a lamb," said Skippy, remembering with a +pleasant tickling sensation the mystified fascination +of her way of looking at him.</p> + +<p>"Cheese it," said Snorky shaking his head.</p> + +<p>"This is different."</p> + +<p>"Whoa, old horse, whoa!"</p> + +<p>"Snorky, old gal," said Skippy, who had +now settled down into the predatory vision +Miss Vivi had artfully evoked, "it's easy +when you know the game."</p> + +<p>"And what's the game?"</p> + +<p>"Don't get tagged."</p> + +<p>"Elucidate."</p> + +<p>"Keep 'em running after you. It's the first +one who runs away who wins every time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, simple as that?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, that's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>"Let 'em love you, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Oh well," said Skippy modestly, but as he +sought his bed he stole a satisfied glance into +the mirror.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Splashing With Your Toes</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>FOR the next six days Skippy was a very +busy young man. He had a reputation to +sustain. The reputation was quite unjustified +but that did not alter matters. Miss Balou +had given it to him and Miss Balou must not +be disappointed. In the shifting comedy of +life, Skippy was now cast for the part of +the Demon Rusher. In those early ambling +days before the automobile and the aeroplane +had brought their escape valves for human +energy, the steam pressure of youth sometimes +found expression in what was known as the +rush. As the name implies the object of the +male participant was to carry all before him in +cyclonic style, to dazzle and overwhelm the +breathless and bewildered lady by the blinding +rapidity of his showered attentions. By mutual +consent nothing binding was ever implied +in this form of acrobatic sentiment and the +knell was sounded when either party paused for +breath. When a rush began all bystanders +withdrew as a matter of etiquette and waited +for the dust to subside, much as, in the Simian +days of the race, the lesser monkeys sat on a +branch and hugged themselves when the big +monk came courting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></div> + +<p>Skippy borrowed a bicycle and departed from +the home of his chum directly after breakfast, +having likewise borrowed various brilliant bits +of manly luxury which flashed from his ankles, +his neck and his breast pocket. At exactly nine +o'clock as though by accident Miss Vivi's trim +figure daintily balanced on the smartest of +"Safety" bicycles appeared from the Balou +driveway and the following brilliant opening +occurred.</p> + +<p>"Why, Jack. What are you doing up so +early?"</p> + +<p>"Can't you guess?"</p> + +<p>"Where are you going!"</p> + +<p>"Same place you're going."</p> + +<p>"Who asked you?"</p> + +<p>"You're going to."</p> + +<p>"How d'you know."</p> + +<p>"Somebody's eyes have told me so," said +Skippy in an unmusical treble.</p> + +<p>Vivi pretended to be immensely offended, +Skippy was immensely concerned that she should +be offended. There was a long discussion +whether he had really offended, whether he +should be really forgiven and whether he really +intended to renounce such airs of proprietorship +in the future. By this time the two bicycles +were close together with Skippy's hands +on her handle-bars and the terms of peace were +concluded by the young lady condescending to +return to his appreciative gaze from underneath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +the lace brim of her hat whither she had +taken refuge. They bicycled along the beach +and Skippy expressed his wonder at the extent +of her wardrobe. Vivi then remarked appreciatively +upon his (or rather Snorky's) necktie. +The conversation then expanded, easily and +naturally along classic lines.</p> + +<p>The theory was simplicity itself—who knows, +perhaps it has remained the same to this day! +For the twelve hours consecrated to each +other's society each day, Skippy denied what +Vivi affirmed unless it happened that Vivi +doubted what Skippy stated as a fact. There +were of course many ramifications, sometimes +it was a question of you did and you didn't, +sometimes it was and it wasn't, while any +future speculation was confined to you will +and you won't. As a matter of fact, nothing +that was said really mattered and each knew +it. Words were only so many verbal flourishes +in the most fascinating of duels. Each played +at the undying passion with open parades and +each was only secretly concerned with bearing +away the other's scalp.</p> + +<p>They canoed together, walked together, picnicked +together, making only short public appearances +at the beach for the swimming hour +and the evening hop. When they came to the +club house they came late and danced together +on the porch to escape the exigencies of society. +If some unfeeling brute did arrive to claim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +Vivi, it was always understood that the next +dance reverted to Skippy, who meanwhile (this +was de rigeur) sat on the railing and looked +dreadfully dejected. It was all very serious +business, strenuous as training for the football +team—but Skippy never relaxed. He had a +reputation to sustain. Snorky gave him up for +lost. He no longer sought to warn him, but +each night simply as a matter of ceremony he +passed his hand solicitously over the shock of +stubby hair which adorned Skippy's elongated +cranium just to assure himself that the scalp +remained unbroken.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Skippy Retires With His Scalp</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>CAME the last day. End of the summer, of +summer's warmth. End of languid siestas +on drowsy beaches, end of balmy moonlight +nights, moonlight sails, moonlight picnics; end +of intimate whispered half laughing, half serious +intimacies <i>a deux</i>. To-morrow separation +and a man's life to take up again! To-morrow +the chill of autumn and the melancholy of drifting +leaves. The last partings to take, promises +to be solemnly exchanged—heart burnings, +bottom dropped out of everything, another +milestone to be registered in the scurrying +flight of Time!</div> + +<p>Mr. Skippy Bedelle and Miss Vivi Balou separated +themselves from the unromantic middle-aged +crowd around the tennis courts and made +their way up the beach to the sheltering swirls +of convenient sand dunes. They walked in +silence, oppressed by the greatness of their +grief, from time to time their shoulders touched +in dumb understanding.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow!" said Skippy with a gulp in +his throat.</p> + +<p>"Don't!"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow—gee!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span></p> + +<p>He carried a beach chair, four sofa cushions, +two rugs, her work-bag, a box of chocolates and +a romance they had dipped into.</p> + +<p>"Don't!" repeated Miss Vivi, gazing out +from under her pink parasol with stricken eyes +at the unending sea.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow afternoon at this time!"</p> + +<p>"It's been wonderful—wonderful week."</p> + +<p>He made a back of the chair, spread the rug +and installed her solicitously. Then he camped +down not too far away, not too near, pulled his +cap over his eyes, locked his hands over his +knees and stared out toward the horizon that, +somehow, attracts at such moments.</p> + +<p>A wind that was already cold played over the +frosty waves and sent little scurries of sand +twisting along the beach.</p> + +<p>"Have a chocolate?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks."</p> + +<p>"Jelly or nut?"</p> + +<p>"Nut. Thanks."</p> + +<p>They munched in silence.</p> + +<p>"That's the trouble with summer," said +Skippy at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It's rotten."</p> + +<p>"Oh why must everything end?" said Vivi +wildly.</p> + +<p>"I can't realize that to-morrow—"</p> + +<p>"You'll forget, men always forget."</p> + +<p>Skippy shook his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes. You'll write a letter or two and then +heigh ho!"</p> + +<p>"Look here, you don't mean that," said +Skippy, turning on her.</p> + +<p>Vivi's eyes dropped before his righteous +indignation.</p> + +<p>"No—no I don't mean that."</p> + +<p>"Then don't talk that way—especially just +now."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me—Jack?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"You do forgive me?"</p> + +<p>"Of course."</p> + +<p>"You're going to do wonderful things at +school," said Vivi, trying to be brave, "and I'm +going to be so proud to think I know you."</p> + +<p>"Do you think they'll let you come down to +the Andover game?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know about the game—but the +Prom!"</p> + +<p>"Gee, you'll be a knockout there!"</p> + +<p>They ate more chocolates, while Skippy debated +how to lead the conversation into the +softer strain before bestowing on the object of +his affections (for value exchanged, of course) +the sacred emblem of the Philomathean Debating +Society and bringing forth the Lawrenceville +banner which was tightly folded up +in his bulging hip pocket.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you'll go back now to Dolly +Travers," said Vivi, whose appetite for verbal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +expressions of sentiment was still far from +being satisfied. "And forget all about—about +this wonderful week."</p> + +<p>"Women are fickler than men," said Skippy +gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Not—not always."</p> + +<p>"Don't believe it."</p> + +<p>"Out of sight out of mind."</p> + +<p>"You know better than that," said Skippy, +digging into his change pocket for the pin.</p> + +<p>"How do I know?" said Vivi encouragingly.</p> + +<p>"Because—" Suddenly Skippy remembered. +His fingers relaxed on the pin. He +brought forth his hand. "Say, you promised +to read my hand you know."</p> + +<p>"Did I?"</p> + +<p>"Sure you did."</p> + +<p>Miss Vivi sat up and carefully pillowed the +squat calloused hand in her soft one. For a +moment she studied it, turning it over and back +again, running her finger meditatively over the +mounds and depressions.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Skippy anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell all?"</p> + +<p>"Everything."</p> + +<p>"You have a very strong will—very obstinate +and not easily influenced. Ambition +will be your god and you will sacrifice—" Vivi +hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I say, go on."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So far is true, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, pretty true," said Skippy, who began +to enjoy his portrait.</p> + +<p>"You will sacrifice everything to your ambition—friends, +family, the woman who loves +you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say!"</p> + +<p>"It's here in your hand," said Vivi, shocked +at the discovery. "Women will play very little +part in your life. It's not that you haven't a +lot to give, you have. See this bump, that's +affection. It's very developed."</p> + +<p>"That's where I threw my thumb out of +joint," said Skippy doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"But you've had a terrible experience in +your life that has shaken your faith and you are +afraid to trust again." Skippy looked the picture +of gloom at this and thought bitterly on +Mimi Lafontaine after hesitating once or twice +on the backward journey. "This has made you +cynical and cold, ready to impute the lowest +motives. Women will love you—many women, +but you will give your heart only once more—and +that—<i>that</i> will be a tragedy, on account of +your own lack of faith."</p> + +<p>"Say, is all that there?" said Skippy, beginning +to be alarmed.</p> + +<p>"That and more," said Vivi, warming up. +"You are very loyal, not at all conceited, brilliant +intellectual qualities and you will make a +success—" Here Vivi paused and turned his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +hand over, studying it carefully. "I see railroads +and banking in your hand."</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?" said Skippy unconvinced.</p> + +<p>"There it is. You will make loads and loads +of money."</p> + +<p>"I say, do I get married?"</p> + +<p>"That is not quite clear," said Vivi frowning. +"This looks like it—but again this line—the +cold calculating streak in your nature—"</p> + +<p>At this moment, from down the beach, came a +shrill whistle imitative of the whip-poor-will, +insistent, querulous and repeated.</p> + +<p>Vivi dropped his hand and glanced hastily at +her watch.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, it's four o'clock!"</p> + +<p>"All right, I'm on. Who's the little bird?" +said Skippy, who had not heard himself described +as the acme of suspicion for nothing.</p> + +<p>"Jack!"</p> + +<p>The whip-poor-will rose to shriller heights.</p> + +<p>"It's Charlie Brownrigger," said Vivi, trying +to appear embarrassed, "and he's come +round to say good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed."</p> + +<p>"I <i>had</i> to let him say good-bye," said Vivi +imploringly to the young sultan. "I've treated +him abominably since you came. I can't be +rude to a chap, can I? I'll be right back."</p> + +<p>"How long's it going to take?" asked +Skippy, drawing out his watch.</p> + +<p>"Oh about twenty minutes," said Vivi.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll wait exactly half an hour. Four-thirty +to the minute. Not a second more."</p> + +<p>"I do believe you're jealous, Jack Bedelle!" +said Vivi expectantly.</p> + +<p>"Jealousy has no part in my nature," said +Skippy loftily. "Besides you can see it in my +hand. Firmness, that's all!"</p> + +<p>"Brute!" said Vivi with a killing glance.</p> + +<p>She picked up the pink parasol and hastened +down the beach. Skippy fished out the Philomathean +Debating Society pin and slowly attached +it to his vest. He switched to the +vacated place with the back rest and began to +whistle to himself. At the end of a seeming +hour he glanced at his watch. Exactly seven +minutes had elapsed.</p> + +<p>"Half an hour was a mistake. Fifteen +minutes is enough for a mut like Brownrigger. +I should have been firmer. When a girl gets +you to waiting for her—she has you going and +coming. Firmer, I should have been much +firmer!"</p> + +<p>He slipped off his shoes to empty them of +sand, and in doing so filled the gayly coloured +work-bag that was Vivi's. His toilette finished, +he took up the bag to clean it in turn. At the +first touch as fate had decreed a book tumbled +out and lay with opened pages before him. It +looked most suspiciously like a diary. He +averted his eyes and then his glance came +slowly back to it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here, that's not square," he said to himself +angrily, torn by a mighty temptation. He +leaned over and closed the book abruptly. The +next moment he was staring at three gilded +words that confronted him with the suddenness +of Belshazzar's vision:</p> + +<div class='center'> +THE CHAP RECORD<br /> +</div> + +<p>A sudden brain storm swept over the emotional +nature of Mr. Skippy Bedelle, of the sort +which in modern legal etiquette is held to excuse +all crimes. He knew what a chap record +was. He had found one in his sister Clara's +bureau and had been lavishly paid for his +silence. He opened it violently and this is what +he read:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry Felton.</span> June 30-Sept. 6th. Good-looking +in a soapy sort of way, but dull: Good +dancer, agonizingly slow at a twosing. Takes +what you give him and is grateful. Good for +last minute calls.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Joe Randolph.</span> July 2d-August 6th. Awfully +lavish and liberal. Spoiled and hard to keep in +place. Useful later. Salt away for College +Prom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charles Brownrigger.</span> Xmas to—. Terribly +proper and easily shocked. Every girl +an angel. Seeking a good influence. Good only +for concerts and lectures.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Charlie Duler.</span> Easter vacation. Professional<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +flirt. Tried hard for him but no go. On +to all the old tricks. Too much alike.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Hector Chisolm.</span> May 3 to May 6th. Three +day rush fast and furious. Nice teeth and eyes, +cold English style in daytime but wilts rapidly +in the moonlight. Dreadfully exciting. Au +revoir!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Having thus wandered through the carnage, +Skippy braced himself and read:</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Jack Bedelle.</span> August 20th—Dreadfully +young and conceited, feed him on flattery—nice +eyes but funny nose—poor conversationalist +but works hard. Dreadful dancer. Pretends +indifference but awfully soft in spots. +Hooked him in twenty minutes—</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Skippy laid the book down in his lap and +glanced up the beach which showed no signs +of an advancing parasol. Then he looked at his +watch which indicated exactly the half hour. +He sat a long moment thinking. Then he +opened the book and at the paragraph devoted +to him he added:</p> + +<div class='center'> +<i>"Easy to hook is hard to hold."</i><br /> +</div> + +<p>But this did not satisfy him. He stood up +and suddenly inspired sunk to his knees and +hurriedly gathered together the sand into a +mound capable of burying Miss Vivi's little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +body. Across it he laid the opened book. At +its head he placed the box of chocolates as a +headstone. Then below he wrote in the sand +(symbol indeed of transient loves):</p> + +<div class='center'> +SACRED TO THE MEMORY<br /> +OF<br /> +VIOLET BALOU<br /> +SLAIN BY HER OWN HAND<br /> +August 27th, 1896.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Then as a masterly afterthought he added +savagely:</p> + +<div class='center'> +GONE AND NOW FORGOTTEN<br /> +</div> + +<p>Mr. Skippy Bedelle then wriggled away +through the sand dunes just as Miss Vivi Balou +with malice aforethought came up the beach +accompanied by Mr. Charles Brownrigger.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">The Philosophical Attitude</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>IT happened on the day before school opened; at +that moment when Skippy returning from his +first sentimental summer had no other thought +than to rest up from the fatigue of the vacation +and devote his activities to the serious business +of life. There were the freshman (a discouraging +lot) to be properly educated, taught to punctuate +their sentences with a humble "sir," "if +you please" and "thank you;" there was a +certain score to be settled with Al at the Jigger +Shop and the basis of a new credit to be argued, +there was the prize room on the third floor +overlooking the campus to be re-decorated with +the loot of the summer, and one crucial question +to be decided forthwith:</div> + +<p>"Shall we start training now or gorge ourselves +for just one more day?"</p> + +<p>"The Jiggers are peach, soft and creamy," +said Snorky with a pensive look. "But we +should set an example you know, old top, and +all that sort of thing."</p> + +<p>"Keerect, we must."</p> + +<p>"I can see the crowd up at Conover's putting +away the pancakes," said Snorky insidiously.</p> + +<p>"Be firm," said Skippy, returning to his +trunk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It isn't only the Jiggers," said Snorky, +who sometimes practised virtue but without the +slightest enthusiasm, "it's—it's those éclairs—never +tasted anything like them, big, fat, +luscious, oozing with cream—"</p> + +<p>"Shut up," said Skippy indignantly. +"Where's your house spirit?"</p> + +<p>"Can't a fellow be human?" said Snorky in +an aggrieved tone.</p> + +<p>"All right, all right—but put your mind on +other things," said Skippy nervously.</p> + +<p>He disengaged an armful from the bottom +of his trunk and spreading it on the window +seat, contemplated the touch of many feminine +hands with an expression that was as +cynically blasé as that of the traditional predatory +bachelor. Whenever Skippy found a +mood too elusive to be expressed in words, his +lips instinctively resorted to boyhood's musical +outlet. His eyes traveled appraisingly over +sofa cushions, picture frames, knitted neckties +and flags that represent those select institutions +where young ladies are finished off. He +began to whistle,</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"I don't want to play in your yard,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I don't like you any more . . ."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"My, you're a cold-hearted brute," said +Snorky, in whom perhaps the spirit of envy was +strong.</p> + +<p>"I am," said Skippy unctuously, "and I am<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +going to be brutier, take a tip from yours truly, +<i>Moony</i>."</p> + +<p>He disposed of half a dozen cushions, draped +two flags and carefully placed three photographs +amid the gallery on his bureau.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that's honorable?" said +Snorky resentfully.</p> + +<p>"Scalps, that's all!" said Skippy with a +grandiloquent wave of his hand.</p> + +<p>"I get you. Heart whole and fancy free +etcetera etceteray?"</p> + +<p>"Every time."</p> + +<p>"Since when?" said Snorky wickedly.</p> + +<p>Skippy allowed this to pass, but having pensively +contemplated the effect produced by the +addition of Miss Dolly Travers, Miss Jennie +Tupper and Miss Vivi Balou to the adoring +galaxy of the past, he swung a leg over the +table and assuming that newly acquired manner +of a man of the world, which was specially +galling to his chum, announced,</p> + +<p>"Snorky, old horse, you play it wrong."</p> + +<p>"I do, eh?"</p> + +<p>"You do. There's nothing in that fussing +game. Women, my boy, are our inferiors."</p> + +<p>"Well, it took you some time to find it out."</p> + +<p>"Keerect, but now I'm wise. Woman is like +a harp in the desert, played upon by every passing +wind."</p> + +<p>"Where'd ye read that?"</p> + +<p>"If you're going in for that sort of thing get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +promiscuous. The only cure for one woman +is another."</p> + +<p>"You ought to know."</p> + +<p>"Are you corresponding with Margarita?" +said Skippy suddenly.</p> + +<p>"And if I am?"</p> + +<p>Skippy shook his head sadly.</p> + +<p>"Woman—" he began sententiously and +just then fate knocked at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in if you're good-looking," said +Snorky, glad of the interruption.</p> + +<p>The door opened and discovered a short bulbous +freshman, just a whit embarrassed as +freshmen should be in the presence of royalty.</p> + +<p>"Oh well, come in any way," said Skippy. +"What's your name, freshman!"</p> + +<p>"Potterman," said the rotund youngster +squeezing in.</p> + +<p>"Sir."</p> + +<p>"Sir."</p> + +<p>"What's the rest of it—the handle, the +nickname."</p> + +<p>"Are we telling our real names?" said the +new arrival, cocking his derby.</p> + +<p>"Green, get out the bamboo cane," said +Skippy solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Oh well, they call me Hippo—sir," said +Potterman hastily.</p> + +<p>"Ah yes, Hippo Potterman. Of course. +That's good, but we'll try to do better by you. +Where did they find you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Philamedelphia, sir."</p> + +<p>"What's that you've got there?" said +Snorky just about to fall upon him bodily.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir, it's a letter from Mrs. Bedelle, +your aunt."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see," said Skippy with a feeling of +disappointment. "You know my aunt? Well, +freshman, you may give it to me. I permit you. +Advance. That's it. Curtsey. A little lower. +Better."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><span class="smcap">Dear Jack,</span><br /> + +<p>My very dear friend Susan Potterman is sending her son +Cornelius—</p></div> + +<p>Skippy frowned and looked up incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Is your name really Cornelius?"</p> + +<p>Potterman flushed like the rose and said with +a gulp:</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, it is."</p> + +<p>"Too bad, too bad."</p> + +<div class="blockquot">son Cornelius to Lawrenceville. Please do everything you can +to make him at home and see that he meets the <i>best</i> boys. +His mother and sister will go on with him and I want you +<i><ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'paticularly'">particularly</ins></i> to be <i>very</i> nice to them.<br /> + +<div class='sig'> +<span style="margin-right: 3em;">Affectionately,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Aunt Carrie.</span><br /></div> +</div> + +<p>Skippy having read this twice, looked in the +envelope to make sure that a five dollar bill +was not enclosed, as all aunts should remember +to do, and transferred his gaze to the fidgeting +Hippo.</p> + +<p>"H'm, first time at boarding school?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Governesses before?"</p> + +<p>Hippo, who had been recovering from his +first feeling of awe, roared loudly at this.</p> + +<p>Skippy looked indignantly at this breach of +etiquette and reached thoughtfully for a tennis +racket.</p> + +<p>"Please, sir," said Hippo hastily, "High +school."</p> + +<p>Skippy considered him thoughtfully and +something told him that in the right-hand lower +vest pocket there was undoubtedly a certain +amount of round hard silver bodies and moreover +that this condition was not simply episodic +but chronic.</p> + +<p>"That coot may be fresh but he is going to +do a lot of heavy spending," he said to himself +with conviction.</p> + +<p>How he knew is immaterial. There is an instinct +that guides—some have it, some haven't +it. You can't explain it. Doc Macnooder for +instance could diagnose a pocket-book as keenly +as a surgeon. It's a gift, that's all. Skippy +possessed this gift.</p> + +<p>"Mother just brought you in?"</p> + +<p>Hippo acknowledged this with a look of the +greatest distress.</p> + +<p>"Sister too?"</p> + +<p>"Damn it, yes!"</p> + +<p>Skippy looked at Snorky and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know that profanity is a wicked, +wicked habit, Hippo?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hippo's mouth started to swallow his ears, +then returned to rest at signs of a hostile +atmosphere. He swung from foot to foot, +looked sheepish, looked terrified and finally +blurted out:</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon, sir."</p> + +<p>"It is a wicked habit, Hippo, but we are here +to help you. It is very lucky for you that you +have come to the right school, where you will +meet boys of fine manly standards. Kneel +down, Hippo."</p> + +<p>"What, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Go over to the bed and kneel down," said +Skippy in a voice of great sadness. "Don't +hesitate, Hippo. That's better. Now, Hippo, +I want you to reflect upon what a wicked, wicked +thing profanity is and I want you to ask God to +forgive you and help you. Silently, Hippo."</p> + +<p>Hippo, who was green and fresh but not at +all green and gullible, went through the prescribed +program with the utmost gravity.</p> + +<p>"Do you feel better now, Hippo?" said +Snorky solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, but I'd like a little more time, sir."</p> + +<p>"Stand up," said Skippy frowning.</p> + +<p>Hippo, unchastened, bounded to his feet and +saluted.</p> + +<p>"And, Hippo, I'm afraid," said Skippy relentlessly, +"that you don't appreciate what a +mother's love means. Think how your mother +has watched over you all these years, think how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +she has scrubbed behind your ears, think of the +hundreds and hundreds of toothbrushes—"</p> + +<p>But at this, as Snorky gulped and barely converted +a laugh into a sneeze with a hurried dive +into the closet, Skippy abandoning his pedagogical +air said in a more natural tone:</p> + +<p>"Well, Hippo, I shall want to talk with you +very seriously on this some other time. Your +manners are shocking and your morals worse, +but I am here. Don't worry. Meanwhile, +ahem, you can bring your family in to tea."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, kind sir."</p> + +<p>"Hippo, you are fresh."</p> + +<p>"But you <i>are</i> kind, aren't you, sir?" said +Hippo with assumed innocence.</p> + +<p>"Get your hat and wait downstairs," said +Skippy deciding to abandon the lighter tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Hippo?"</p> + +<p>"What, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Don't forget."</p> + +<p>"What, sir?"</p> + +<p>"The curtsey, you know."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later Skippy and +Snorky with Hippo in tow started across the +campus to show their protégé the historic spots, +beginning with Laloo's where the merry hot +dogs whistled to one another in steaming cans, +by way of Bill Appleby's where ginger-pop and +root-beer waited, to the Jigger Shop where the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +Jigger cooled and Conover's where the pancake +sizzled.</p> + +<p>Opposite the Jigger Shop the celebrated Doc +Macnooder, resplendent in a varsity sweater, +was surveying the hungry Jigger-fed crowd and +debating whether to go right up and pay for +his sustenance or wait a little longer and see +what might turn up.</p> + +<p>"Well, Skippy, been inventing anything +new?" said Macnooder pleasantly after the +introductions.</p> + +<p>"I say, Doc, I want to put it up to you," said +Skippy hastily, for he feared any reference to +bathtubs or mosquitoes might detract from the +respect which was essential in Hippo. "I'm +out for the scrub, you know, and what I wanted +to ask you was do you think training ought to +start now or wait until school opens."</p> + +<p>Macnooder's mind scorned <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'subleties'">subtleties</ins>. It +moved by the shortest cuts to the practical +issue.</p> + +<p>"Has he got the price?" he said looking at +Hippo.</p> + +<p>"He has."</p> + +<p>"Let's eat."</p> + +<p>Macnooder looked appraisingly at Hippo, +whom Nature had destined to play at center +rush, to be mauled and cuffed and suffocated +under scores of scuffing, struggling bodies. A +flicker of sympathy should have stirred, but it +didn't.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You'll need quite a lot of stuff," he said +pensively.</p> + +<p>"Nothing doing, Doc," said Skippy, winking +hard at his protégé. "Hippo's fitted out."</p> + +<p>"How about fountain-pens or crockery sets, +or patent nail clippers?"</p> + +<p>"I dote on fountain-pens," began Hippo.</p> + +<p>"Hippo's under my protection," said Skippy +militantly. "We're sort of related."</p> + +<p>"Oh well, let's eat then," said Macnooder +with a reluctant look.</p> + +<p>"Don't take anything from that fellow even +if he gives it to you," said Skippy in a whisper +to Hippo. "Elucidations later."</p> + +<p>Al had two attitudes of welcome, according +to the record of the books, one in which the hand +advanced impulsively and a smile broke from +under the shaggy yellow bang and another where +the hand remained in a stationary receptive +cup, or sometimes caressed the limp ends of the +mustache in a way most discouraging and disheartening +to the delinquent debtor. When Doc +Macnooder arrived, however, he paid him the +further honor to carefully close the glass cases +where éclair and fruit cake were waiting the +call to service, and braced himself against the +counter.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Al," said Skippy affably, "here we +are again. Set 'em up four times."</p> + +<p>"I see you and I see that there Doc Macnooder," +said Al in an unconvinced sort of way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Set 'em up," said Macnooder in an encouraging +tone.</p> + +<p>"<i>Who's</i> settin' 'em up?" said Al, resorting +to his toothpick.</p> + +<p>Macnooder looked at Skippy, Skippy looked +at Snorky, then all three looked at Hippo.</p> + +<p>"The pleasure is mine," said Hippo and with +a purse-proud gesture he flicked on the counter +a twenty dollar bill.</p> + +<p>Al was not easily shocked but for once his +perfect manner left him. He glanced at Hippo +and then enviously at Macnooder.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know they picked them as early as +that," he said enigmatically. "Doc, you'll be +buying this place in a week."</p> + +<p>"I could buy it now," said Macnooder frowning, +"and Al, step to the back and have a little +business talk with me."</p> + +<p>Al, having received payment and displayed +the Jiggers, left for the back of the store to +that secluded nook which had heard a hundred +explanations and supplications from the improvident +and hungry. Skippy, who despite the +new assurance of his public manner, was willing +to learn at the feet of a master, Jigger in hand, +moved into a position of eavesdropping.</p> + +<p>"Nineteen dollars and seventy-two cents," +said Al, coming to the point.</p> + +<p>"Exactly what my little proposition comes +to," said Macnooder affably. "Tear it up, Al, +you'll do it sooner or later so why not now?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's the flim-flam?" said Al, who recognized +in Macnooder qualities of a superior +intelligence.</p> + +<p>"I don't like the word," said Macnooder in +a pained tone. "I've got an idea and you're +going to buy it. Al, the Jigger Shop has had a +cinch, a monopoly, a trust. You fixed prices +and you've controlled the output. Now answer +me, yes or no. Have you ever paid out one +cent in commissions?"</p> + +<p>"Get to the point."</p> + +<p>"I will. I have an idea, I might say a brilliant +idea and when I say I like the idea better +than any idea I can remember—you know me—I'm +modest, but Al, it's a wonder. You'll +like it. No, change that line, you may not like +it but you'll respect it. Al, I'm going to let +you in, give you the first chance. Conover +would double the commission. Appleby would +go wild over it. But, Al, I'm giving <i>you</i> the +first chance."</p> + +<p>"Nineteen dollars and seventy-two cents," +said Al, making a motion to close his ears.</p> + +<p>"Not a cent less," said Macnooder firmly, +who according to his manner, having produced +the proper hypnotic effect, now came to the +point. "Sit down, Al, if you won't sit down—brace +yourself. The idea's coming now and +the idea's loaded with dynamite. Suppose, I +say suppose, it was in my power to boycott +you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> + +<p>"God Almighty couldn't do that," said Al.</p> + +<p>"Not as you see it—you're right there, Al, +shrewd and clever! Al, there are ten freshmen +in the Dickinson. Think hard now, the idea's +growing. Ten freshmen. Suppose,—I only +say suppose now that as a disciplinary measure +we should decide that no freshman could enter +the Jigger Shop say—well let's be moderate—for +the space of three months. We might let +them go to Conover's or Laloo's and then +again—"</p> + +<p>"Macnooder," said Al explosively, "when +they lead you to the gallows I'll be sitting right +up front if it cost every cent I have."</p> + +<p>"Al, you grieve me."</p> + +<p>"It's blackmail! It's extortion and blame +it I believe you'd do it."</p> + +<p>"No, Al, it's not blackmail, it's not extortion. +If I came to you and said out and out, +flat, tear up that account of mine or I'll boycott +you—<i>that</i>, Al, that would be all you say."</p> + +<p>"My Gawd, Doc, why do you waste your time +in this little place anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"You see, Al, it's this way," said Macnooder, +smiling at the compliment, "I'm coming to you +as Macnooder your attorney, that's one person, +to use his influence with Macnooder the financier, +that's another person—I'm a lobbyist, +a paid lobbyist."</p> + +<p>"Nineteen dollars and seventy-two cents," +said Al in a fainter voice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Al, I'm surprised and shocked. I thought +your mind leaped at things. You don't see it +yet. You're thinking in terms of ten freshmen—"</p> + +<p>"Nineteen doll. . ."</p> + +<p>"But suppose the Dickinson lays down the +law, suppose the Kennedy follows suit. You +saw what that fellow flashed, a twenty dollar +yellowback, a word to Skippy and the Kennedy +would follow. Skippy, you understand, +would have to be <i>protected</i>, you get that. Well, +what would happen? Every house in the school +would follow suit. What does that mean? +Figure it out. It means one hundred freshmen +multiplied by ninety days multiplied by at +least two Jiggers a fresh—per day—you know +how freshmen eat—"</p> + +<p>But here, Skippy, terrified, tiptoed away. +Macnooder aroused in him the lust for gold and +he wished to retain a few simple ideals. He +signaled Snorky and Hippo and escaped up +the road to the home of the pancake.</p> + +<p>"Doc Macnooder is a wonder but he's not, +well he's not quite the sort of chap you want to +associate with, Hippo. Understand?"</p> + +<p>"I'm young but I'm not so green as all +that," said Hippo winking wisely.</p> + +<p>"In fact, Doc's a sponge and you made an +awful break."</p> + +<p>"I did, what's that, sir?"</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't have shown him that twenty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +dollar bill. He'll never let up so long as he +remembers that."</p> + +<p>"Skippy's right, Hippo," said Snorky.</p> + +<p>"What'll I do?"</p> + +<p>"Leave it to us. We'll think out some way."</p> + +<p>After a good deal of thinking, they returned +from a heavy performance at Conover's, laden +with a large creamcake, a half dozen éclairs, a +box of Huyler's and two pounds of Turkish +paste, after placing an order for tinned meats, +cheese, saltines and root-beer.</p> + +<p>"I say, this sort of removes the lurking +danger, doesn't it?" said Hippo, searching in +his pocket for the last half-dollar.</p> + +<p>"We'll store the grub in our rooms," said +Snorky solemnly, "and then there won't be any +danger at all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, kind sir," said the irrepressible +Hippo, and only the soothing presence of +the layer cake against his breast kept Snorky +from a mood of wrath.</p> + +<p>"If you've got to mother that little squirt," +said Snorky wrathfully, once they had returned +to their room, "you'll have your hands full, +that's all I wish to remark. A fresher, nervier +little nuisance—"</p> + +<p>"Nuisance is going to get a lot of mothering," +said Skippy with a far-off look in his +eyes. "But remember, old dear, that's why +we're here. That's why the faculty invites us +to Lawrenceville."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well," said Snorky as he stowed away the +purchases and arranged the éclairs on the tea-table, +"if we can keep him away from Doc Macnooder, +there's going to be a few compensations."</p> + +<p>"Nuisance will neither be affectionate nor +familiar by this time to-morrow," said Skippy +grinding his teeth.</p> + +<p>"Cheese it! Hide the towels—here they +come!"</p> + +<p>A knock and then the voice of Hippo in flippant +familiarity:</p> + +<p>"All right, Skippy, we're good looking. +Open up."</p> + +<p>Skippy looked at Snorky and swallowed hard +while his right arm worked convulsively.</p> + +<p>"Come in," he said with an effort.</p> + +<p>The door opened and Miss Potterman triumphantly +entered his life. Mrs. Potterman +was there and Hippo with his impertinent +smirk but neither Skippy nor Snorky saw anything +else but that wonderful vision. Something +unbelievable had suddenly stepped out of +their favorite Gibson picture and was advancing +in a halo. Violets and daffodils began to +sprout from the carpet and birds sang in the +window frames. It was instantaneous and it +was terrific.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Love Plus Hippo</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>JUST as there are professional conversationalists +and professional sponges, Miss Potterman +was a professional beauty. There was +nothing accidental or temporary about her. +She was complete, perfect, and she knew her +loveliness. After five years' triumphant progress +in society she was accustomed to the petrifying +effect of her sudden presence on a +beauty-worshipping sex. She did not walk as +other mortals walk, but floated in fragrantly +and Skippy stood staring rock-still, as though +Hippo had flashed the head of Medusa. None +of which by the way was lost on the keenly +observant Hippo.</div> + +<p>"I beg pardon, I'm Skippy," he said shaking +himself.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bedelle, isn't it?" said Miss Potterman +in the tones that angels are supposed to +employ.</p> + +<p>Skippy saw no one else. In another moment +he was seated on the window-seat entranced, +dazed and blissfully content with his fate, docile +as the rabbit in the presence of the boa constrictor.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad Corny is in your house," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +Miss Potterman with a smile in the irresistible +eyes. "You will watch over him, won't you, +Mr. Bedelle?"</p> + +<p>"Will I? You bet I will!"</p> + +<p>"You see he's my only brother and we didn't +want him to go to boarding school—not just +yet. That is, mother and I. Dad insisted on it. +I don't think he's always, well—quite appreciated +Cornelius."</p> + +<p>"I understand," said Skippy, averting his +look. Even in the intoxication of her presence +he could appreciate Dad.</p> + +<p>"You see, Corny's different from other boys, +Mr. Bedelle. He's more like a grown-up person. +He has a wonderful mind and such an +unusual personality. I don't want him to lose +it all and be just like every other boy. And +some boys, I'm afraid, won't understand him +just at first. You will look after him, protect +him, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"I'd promise <i>you</i> anything," said Skippy +recklessly, which is the privilege of sixteen in +the presence of twenty-five.</p> + +<p>Miss Potterman smiled without surprise and +laid her hand gently a moment on his arm in the +deadliest of feminine gestures.</p> + +<p>"Corny's told me how kind you have been +already."</p> + +<p>Skippy looked incredulous.</p> + +<p>"Indeed he has. Really he's quite fond of +you already."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I say, Sis," said Nuisance at this moment, +"hasn't Skippy got a whang-dinger of a +room?"</p> + +<p>And he approached with the layer cake and +the éclairs.</p> + +<p>"What a wonderful spread," said Miss +Potterman, "but really you have been too +extravagant!"</p> + +<p>Something in Skippy's sudden look decided +Hippo to keep the secret, but he revenged himself +on the cake in a way that made his sister +exclaim:</p> + +<p>"Corny, where <i>are</i> your manners?"</p> + +<p>"'S all right. I'll buy another," said Hippo, +who then winked brazenly at Skippy.</p> + +<p>"I'll murder him, I will," said Skippy wrathfully +to himself. "I'd strip the hide off him, if +it—if it weren't for—" Then he raised his +eyes and beheld the reason why, smiling at him +with perfect faith.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we've spoiled Corny just a +little," she said hesitating.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right."</p> + +<p>"Is—is there much of that dreadful +hazing?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sometimes," said Skippy, who always +placed the proper value on his services.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, I've heard such dreadful things +have happened," said Miss Potterman, thoroughly +alarmed.</p> + +<p>"That's only when accidents happen."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Accidents!"</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, Miss Potterman," said Skippy +with the manner of a Grand Duke. "Fellows +do get rough sometimes, but I'll look after +him."</p> + +<p>Miss Potterman again laid her hand on his +arm.</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>She stayed but half an hour. The door +closed. The birds fled from the windows and +the daffodils retired under the carpet.</p> + +<p>"Whew!" said Snorky explosively.</p> + +<p>Skippy fell back on a chair and fanned +himself.</p> + +<p>"What's the use?" he said disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"Women are our inferiors," said Snorky +wickedly.</p> + +<p>"What eyes!"</p> + +<p>"Woman is like a harp—"</p> + +<p>"Woman!" said Skippy rousing himself indignantly. +"You don't call that a woman! +That's Maude Adams and Lorna Doone and—and +the Gibson Girl rolled into one!"</p> + +<p>"Don't blame you," said Snorky heavily. +"It ain't right to let anything as wonderful as +that roam around loose. Skippy, it's all +wrong."</p> + +<p>"You're right there."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Snorky reflectively, "she turned +up in time. We'd have had Nuisance ready for +the undertaker by the morning."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My hands are tied," said Skippy glumly. +"I've promised."</p> + +<p>"Me too, but how are we going to stick it +out?"</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll have to treat Nuisance with +moral influences," said Skippy thoughtfully. +"It will be longer, longer and harder."</p> + +<p>They dined with Miss Potterman at the Inn +and that and a walk about the campus under +the stars completed the devastation. Before it +was over Skippy actually heard himself called +"Jack," had shaken hands on an eternal friendship, +promised to write from time to time of +Hippo's progress and needs, agreed to defend +him from bodily injury and promised to accompany +him home for the short Thanksgiving +recess. The final touch came when Miss Potterman +sought to press upon him a large bill in +case Hippo should be perishing of thirst or +hunger.</p> + +<p>Skippy put it away. It hurt to do so, it +choked him, but he did it.</p> + +<p>"Not from you—I couldn't," he said +huskily. "I—well, I just couldn't."</p> + +<p>That night as he stood at his bureau and +looked into the eyes of the past, at Mimi and +Dolly and Jennie and Vivi the hunter of scalps, +he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Snorky?"</p> + +<p>"What is it, old boy?"</p> + +<p>"Ever go fishing?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You betcha."</p> + +<p>"Do you know the feeling after you've been +dabbling with six-inch and five-inch and four-inch +trout all day,—and something about three +feet long weighing ten or twelve pounds grabs +your hook? Do you get me?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, I get you," said Snorky gazing +heavily out at the stars, "but oh gee, Skippy, +why does she have to be Nuisance's sister?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Snorky's worst forebodings were realized. +Nuisance earned his title a hundredfold within +the week. Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan +had been fresh, was fresh and would freshen +more, but Dennis was amusing and added to the +gayety of nations. Nuisance was what his name +implied, simply intolerable. You stumbled over +him and you bumped into him. When state +secrets were being discussed in whispers, +Nuisance was always within earshot. He was +the extra, the intruder, the tail to the kite. He +did not actively offend against the traditions +which govern freshmen in the incubator period. +He was too clever for that. He had submitted +to the mild hazing with a cheerfulness which +robbed it of all its sting. He had climbed water +towers and sung appropriate hymns. He had +sat in washbasins and gravely pulled imaginary +miles against the toothpicks furnished him as +oars. He had submitted to the pi's as they +came with a full recognition that the second and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +third men in the mounting heap were extremely +more uncomfortable than himself with a mattress +for a vis-à-vis. He was not insubordinate—he +was just a nuisance.</p> + +<p>But if he kept skilfully within the letter of +the law so far as the rest of the house was concerned +he was irrepressible once in the company +of Skippy. Nothing that Skippy could do +could chill his affection or bring him to a proper +realization of the deference which should mark +the manner of a freshman towards one of the +lords of the earth.</p> + +<p>"Nuisance is like a wet muddy Newfoundland +pup that wants to live in your lap," said +Snorky at the end of the second week.</p> + +<p>"Some day," said Skippy shaking his head, +"my worse nature is going to rise up and get +the better of me."</p> + +<p>"I hope I see it!" said Snorky enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>"Of course I'll have to hold in until after +Thanksgiving," said Skippy disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"What? Oh, naturally."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XL</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Reality Minus Hippo</span></h3> + + +<div class='cap'>THANKSGIVING over, Snorky confidently +waited the explosion.</div> + +<p>"Skippy's going to the bad," he said to +Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan. "He's +nervous, he's fidgety, he talks in his sleep. +There's no living with him."</p> + +<p>"Some day it'll come," said Dennis cheerfully. +"Some day there'll be a bang-up, two +by two procession, slow music, flowers omitted; +and right on a nice green shutter will be +stretched our Sister's darling boy."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm getting tired of waiting."</p> + +<p>"Keep hoping," said Dennis wisely. "Human +nature is human nature. Say, look at +that!"</p> + +<p>Across the campus came Skippy, fists sunk in +his pockets, hat-brim down, stalking rapidly, +and at his heels the irrepressible Nuisance.</p> + +<p>"It's shocking," said Snorky, "poor old +Skippy!"</p> + +<p>"That's what love means," said Finnegan +contemptuously. "Do you know what he reminds +me of? A poor lonely cur going down +the road with a tin can tied to his tail."</p> + +<p>"Hello, Skippy," said Snorky sadly.</p> + +<p>Skippy looked at them and grunted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p> + +<p>At this moment Nuisance caught him by the +arm.</p> + +<p>"Say, old chap, what are you going to do +now?"</p> + +<p>"Going to bed, damn it!" said Skippy and +bolted within.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>How could Snorky and Dennis that unworldly +fledgling know what Skippy suffered? The +forty-eight hours of the Thanksgiving vacation +had been like a narcotic dream. He had been +under the same roof with her, sat by her side +in the darkened theatre and thrilled at the low +sobby music that sent his imagination helter-skelter +into dangerous pastures; received her +confidences, gravely discussed with her the +character and eligibility of older men, confided +in turn his life's project to launch mosquito-proof +socks on a world scale; received the full +force of her lovely radiant gentlest of smiles; +danced with her alone a whole hour in the +Potterman ballroom, suffocated with happiness; +and for all of which had promised what? +To wear Nuisance about his neck like a millstone, +to protect, cherish and guide him through +the perils and temptations of boarding-school +as though—as though he were his own brother. +And Nuisance knew! That was the worst of +it,—Nuisance knew the thin tyrant skein by +which he held him irrevocably linked! Christmas +was yet to come and for what Christmas<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +might hold Skippy possessed his soul in +patience.</p> + +<p>Then the blow fell. A week later as Snorky +Green was returning from the village he perceived +Dennis de Brian de Boru in a state of +excitement waving a newspaper at him from +the porch.</p> + +<p>"There must be another birth in the faculty," +thought Snorky, puzzled to ascribe an adequate +reason. Such events, be it mentioned, were +usually attended by cuts and in the higher +spheres with even a half holiday.</p> + +<p>Finnegan rushed forward, dove at his knees +and spilled him on the ground joyously.</p> + +<p>"Damn you, you mad Irishman," said +Snorky picking himself up and disentangling +himself from the newspaper. "What's hit you +anyway?"</p> + +<p>"It's come, hooray!"</p> + +<p>"What's come?"</p> + +<p>"Skippy's free!"</p> + +<p>Snorky, further mystified, seized Finnegan +and having sufficiently shaken him demanded an +explanation.</p> + +<p>"Eighth page, first column, ouch!" said +Finnegan.</p> + +<p>Snorky opened it and read:</p> + +<div class='center'> +MISS POTTERMAN TO MARRY<br /> +HAROLD B. DRINKWATER<br /> +</div> + +<p>At this moment the door opened and Skippy +came heavily out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you seen it?" said Dennis breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Seen what?"</p> + +<p>"The paper!"</p> + +<p>"What's in the paper?"</p> + +<p>Dennis glanced at Snorky and solemnly +handed over the fatal announcement. All levity +had disappeared. A man's sorrow after all +must be sacred.</p> + +<p>Skippy read and suddenly put down the +paper. Only two things came to his mind—wedding +immediate and she had not even written +him.</p> + +<p>At this most auspicious moment, Nuisance +came gamboling around the house.</p> + +<p>"Hi, Skippy, old sport, what ye doin'?"</p> + +<p>Dennis de Brian de Boru looked at Snorky +and then simultaneously each sat down and retired +into an expectant audience.</p> + +<p>Nuisance frolicked enthusiastically up for his +victim and then stopped. He had just caught +Skippy's expression. He stopped and suddenly +looked at the ground. He <i>knew!</i></p> + +<p>Slowly, carefully, warily with his eyes on +Skippy he began a strategic withdrawal. +Skippy moved stealthily forward, picking up +his steps as a rat terrier does. Nuisance slunk +away, calculating the distance to the corner of +the house. Skippy increased the pace, drawing +ominously nearer.</p> + +<p>Then Finnegan's shrill voice cried:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sic him, Skippy!"</p> + +<p>The next moment, Nuisance, panic-stricken, +was scuttling for his life, with Skippy roaring +at his heels.</p> + +<p>And just back of the lonely stretches of the +Dickinson, Skippy fell upon him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>That night Skippy, wise by disillusionment, +confided his sorrows to a diary which began as +follows:</p> + +<p>"What I don't know about women, ain't +worth knowing. Resolved; if any loving is +going to be done, they can do the loving."</p> + +<p>But that of course is still another story. . . .</p> + + +<h2>THE END</h2> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Skippy Bedelle, by Owen Johnson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SKIPPY BEDELLE *** + +***** This file should be named 25465-h.htm or 25465-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/4/6/25465/ + +Produced by David Garcia, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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