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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  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: The Turner Twins
+
+Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+Illustrator: C. M. Relyea
+
+Release Date: August 26, 2011 [EBook #37209]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Through the secret door]
+
+
+
+
+                                  THE
+                              TURNER TWINS
+
+                                   BY
+                          RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
+
+           Author of “The Crimson Sweater,” “Harry’s Island,”
+                           “Team-Mates,” etc.
+
+                             ILLUSTRATED BY
+                              C. M. RELYEA
+
+                                NEW YORK
+                            THE CENTURY CO.
+                                  1922
+
+
+
+
+                       Copyright, 1921, 1922, by
+                            The Century Co.
+
+                        PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+            CHAPTER                                      PAGE
+                  I Introduces a Pair of Shoes              3
+                 II The Girl in the White Middy            13
+                III Cakes and Ale                          28
+                 IV Kewpie Starts Something                37
+                  V In the Performance of Duty             52
+                 VI Ned is Firm                            61
+                VII High School Accepts Defeat             70
+               VIII In the Miser’s House                   84
+                 IX Laurie Hears News                      98
+                  X Polly Entertains                      110
+                 XI Ned Speaks Out                        120
+                XII The Committee on Arrangements         130
+               XIII Ned Gets into the Game                141
+                XIV The Fete                              154
+                 XV Ned Has an Idea                       170
+                XVI Polly Tells a Spook Story             179
+               XVII Laurie Makes a Protest                190
+              XVIII Before the Battle                     201
+                XIX Ned is Missing                        213
+                 XX For the Honor of the Turners          223
+                XXI The Understudy                        238
+               XXII The Boys Make a Present               250
+              XXIII The Secret Passage                    262
+               XXIV A Merry Christmas                     272
+
+
+
+
+                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+Through the secret door                                     Frontispiece
+
+“Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!”                         36
+
+“But don’t you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?” asked Polly  136
+
+“Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.”                   240
+
+
+
+
+THE TURNER TWINS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I—INTRODUCES A PAIR OF HEROES
+
+
+“Jail,” said the boy in the gray flannels.
+
+“School,” pronounced the boy in the blue serge.
+
+“Bet you!”
+
+“No, sir, you owe me ten cents now. You didn’t pay up the last time.”
+
+“It’s wrong to bet for money, Ned.”
+
+The other set down the suitcase he was carrying and scoffed. “Yes, when
+you lose,” he observed, with deep sarcasm. “That’s thirty-five cents you
+owe me. You bet in Chicago that—”
+
+“That debt’s outlawed. Chicago’s in Michigan—”
+
+“Bet you!”
+
+“And this is New York, and so—”
+
+“Mighty good thing Dad sent you to school, Laurie. Chicago’s in
+Illinois, you ignoramus.”
+
+“Is it? Well, who cares?” Laurence Stenman Turner had also deposited the
+bag he was carrying on the brick sidewalk and was applying a
+lavender-bordered handkerchief to a moist brow. “Just the same, that’s a
+jail.”
+
+“If that’s a jail, I’ll eat my hat,” declared the other,
+
+“It’s not a school, though, and that’s flat,” was the prompt retort.
+
+“Huh, that was an easy one!” Edward Anderson Turner retreated to a
+flat-topped stone wall bordering a well-shaded lawn and seated himself
+with a sigh of relief. His companion followed suit. Behind them, grass
+and trees and flower beds made a pleasant setting for a square gray
+house, half hidden from the street. Overhead a horse-chestnut tree
+spread low branches across the sidewalk. The quiet village street
+ascended gently, curving as it went, empty in both directions. Somewhere
+on a neighboring thoroughfare a scissors-grinder was punctuating the
+silence with the musical _ding—dang—dong_ of bells. In a near-by tree
+a locust was making his shrill clatter. Across the way, the subject of
+contention, stood a large red-brick edifice, stone trimmed, many
+windowed, costly and unlovely. The boys viewed it silently. Then their
+glances fell to the two black suitcases on the curbing.
+
+“How far did that hombre say it was to the school?” asked Ned Turner,
+after a minute of silence.
+
+“Three quarters of a mile.”
+
+“How far have we walked already?”
+
+“Mile and a half.”
+
+“Consequently?”
+
+“Said hombre was a li—was unvoracious.”
+
+“Un-_ver_-acious is the word, old son.”
+
+“What do we care? We don’t own it,” replied Laurie, cheerfully. “Want to
+go on?”
+
+Ned shook his head slowly. “What time have you got?” he asked.
+
+“What time do you want?” was the flippant response.
+
+With a sigh, Ned pulled back his left sleeve and looked at his watch.
+“It’s only about a quarter to twelve. We don’t have to get there until
+six if we don’t want to.”
+
+“I know, but I couldn’t sit on this wall all that time! Besides, what
+about lunch?”
+
+“I’m not very hungry,” was the sad reply.
+
+“That’s the trouble with having your breakfast late.”
+
+“That’s the trouble with eating two plates of griddle-cakes, you mean,”
+retorted Laurie. “Anyway, I’m hungry if you’re not. Let’s go.”
+
+But he made no move, and they continued to dangle their shoes from the
+wall and gaze lazily across the shady street. The scissors-grinder’s
+chime died in the distance. Farther down the street the whirring of a
+lawn-mower competed with the locust.
+
+“Upon a wall they sat them down,” murmured Ned, turning a challenging
+look on his companion.
+
+“Lost in the wilds of Orstead Town,” added Laurie.
+
+Ned nodded mild approval and once more silence held.
+
+Save that one was dressed in gray and the other in blue, the two boys
+were strikingly alike. Each was slim of body and round of face, with
+red-brown hair and a short, slightly impertinent nose. Ned’s eyes were a
+trifle bluer than Laurie’s and he had the advantage—if advantage it
+was—of some five pounds of weight. But neither of these facts was
+apparent at first glance. Faces and hands were well browned and the pair
+looked extremely healthy. They were dressed neatly, with perhaps more
+attention to detail than is usual in lads of their age, their attire
+terminating at one end in well-polished brown shoes and at the other in
+immaculate black derbies. Their age was fifteen years, three months, and
+eleven days. Which, of course, leads you to the correct conclusion that
+they were twins.
+
+“Maybe,” hazarded Laurie, presently, “we’ve lost our way.”
+
+“Don’t just see how we could,” Ned objected. “The old chap at the
+station said we were to keep right along up Walnut Street. This is still
+Walnut Street, isn’t it?”
+
+“I suppose so.” Laurie’s glance strayed right and left. “Must be; I
+don’t see any walnuts.”
+
+“Guess the only ‘nuts’ are right here. Come on, let ’s hit the trail
+again.” Ned slid to his feet and took up his burden. “Why the dickens we
+didn’t take that carriage the fellow wanted to sell us is more than I
+see.”
+
+“’Cause we needed the exercise. Also, ’cause we’re down to a dollar and
+fourteen cents between us—unless you ’re holding out.”
+
+“Well, I’m not!” replied Ned, indignantly. “I paid for the breakfasts in
+New York—”
+
+“And I paid for dinner on the diner last night—”
+
+“Who said you didn’t?” They went on leisurely, and presently Ned
+continued: “Say, suppose we don’t like this ranch after we get
+there—then what, old son?”
+
+Laurie considered thoughtfully. Then, “Two things we can do,” he
+pronounced. “No, three. We can put up with it, change it to suit us, or
+leave it.”
+
+“Leave it! Yes, we can! On a dollar and fourteen cents?”
+
+“We’ll have nearly twenty more when we cash Dad’s check and pay the term
+bill. Twenty dollars would take us back to New York and buy a lot of
+griddle-cakes, anyway.”
+
+Laurie’s voice was partly drowned by a small delivery automobile that
+dashed into sight at a corner ahead and sped by with a clamor worthy of
+a four-ton truck. The brothers looked after it interestedly. “That’s the
+first sign of life we’ve seen,” said Ned. “Say, I do wish this street
+would stop twisting this way. First thing we know, we’ll be back at the
+station!”
+
+“Bet you I’d hop the first freight then. I’ve got a hunch that we’re not
+going to care for Hillman’s School.”
+
+“Speak for yourself. I am. I like this town, too. It’s pretty.”
+
+“Oh, it’s pretty enough,” grumbled Laurie, “but it went to sleep about a
+century ago and hasn’t waked up since. Here’s somebody coming; let’s ask
+where the school is.”
+
+“It’s just a girl.”
+
+“What of it? She probably knows.”
+
+The girl appeared to be of about their own age and wore a white middy
+dress with black trimming and a scarlet tie knotted below a V of
+sun-browned throat. She wore no hat and her dark hair was gathered into
+a single braid. As she drew near she gave the boys a quick glance of
+appraisal from a pair of gravely friendly brown eyes. It was Ned who
+shifted his suitcase to his left hand and raised his derby. It was
+always Ned who spoke first; after that, they alternated scrupulously.
+
+“Would you please tell us where Hillman’s School is?” he asked.
+
+The girl stopped and her somewhat serious face lighted with a smile.
+“It’s right there,” she replied, and nodded.
+
+The boys turned to the blankness of a high privet hedge behind an iron
+fence. The girl laughed softly. “Behind the hedge, I mean,” she
+explained. “The gate is a little way around the corner there, on Summit
+Street.”
+
+“Oh,” said Laurie. That laugh was contagious, and he grinned in
+response. “A man at the station told us it was only three quarters of a
+mile, but we’ve been walking for hours!”
+
+“I guess it’s nearer a mile than three quarters,” answered the girl,
+slowly. She appeared to be giving the matter very serious consideration
+and two little thoughtful creases appeared above her nose, a small,
+straight nose that was bridged by a sprinkling of freckles. Then the
+smile came again. “Maybe it did seem longer, though,” she acknowledged,
+“for it’s uphill all the way; and then, you had your bags. You’re new
+boys, aren’t you?”
+
+Ned acknowledged it, adding, “Think we’ll like it?”
+
+The girl seemed genuinely surprised. “Why, of course! Every one likes
+it. What a perfectly funny idea!”
+
+“Well,” said Laurie, defensively, “we’ve never tried boarding-school
+before, you see. Dad didn’t know anything about Hillman’s, either. He
+chose it on account of the way the advertisement read in a magazine.
+Something about ‘a moderate discipline rigidly enforced.’”
+
+The girl laughed again. (She had a jolly sort of laugh, they decided.)
+“You’re—you’re twins, aren’t you?” she asked.
+
+“He is,” replied Ned, gravely.
+
+“Why—why, aren’t you both?” Her brown eyes grew very round and the
+little lines creased her nose again.
+
+“It’s this way,” explained Laurie. “Ned was born first, and so, as there
+was only one of him, he wasn’t a twin. Then I came, and that made two of
+us, and I was a twin. You see, don’t you? It’s really quite plain.”
+
+The girl shook her head slowly in puzzlement. “I—I’m afraid I don’t,”
+she answered apologetically. “You _must_ be twins—both of you, I
+mean—because you both look just like both—I mean, each other!” Then
+she caught the sparkle of mischief in Ned’s blue eyes and laughed. Then
+they all laughed. After which they seemed suddenly to be very good
+friends, such good friends that Laurie abandoned custom and spoke out of
+turn.
+
+“I suppose you know a lot of the fellows,” he said.
+
+The girl shook her head. “N—no, not any, really. Of course, I see most
+of them when they come to Mother’s, but she doesn’t like me to—to
+_know_ them.”
+
+“Of course not,” approved Ned. “She’s dead right, too. They’re a pretty
+poor lot, I guess.”
+
+“Oh, no, they’re not, really! Only, you see—” She stopped, and then
+went on a trifle breathlessly: “I guess she wouldn’t be awfully pleased
+if she saw me now! I—I hope you’ll like the school.”
+
+She nodded and went on.
+
+“Thanks,” called Laurie. “If we don’t like it, we’ll change it.
+Good-by.”
+
+“Nice kid,” observed Ned, tolerantly, as they turned the corner of the
+hedge. “Wonder who she is. She said most of the fellows went to her
+mother’s. Maybe her mother gives dancing lessons or something, eh?”
+
+“If she does, she won’t see me,” responded his brother, firmly. “No
+dancing for mine.”
+
+“Maybe it’s compulsory.”
+
+“Maybe it’s esthetic,” retorted Laurie, derisively. “It makes no never
+mind. I’m agin it. This must be the place. Yes, there’s a sign.”
+
+It was a very modest sign a-swing from a rustic post beside a broad
+entrance giving on to a well-kept drive. “Hillman’s School—Entrance
+Only,” it read. Laurie stopped in pretended alarm and laid a detaining
+clutch on Ned’s shoulder.
+
+“‘Entrance Only’! Sounds as if we couldn’t ever get out again, Ned! Do
+you dare?”
+
+Ned looked doubtfully through at the curving drive and the red-brick
+building that showed beyond the border of trees and shrubbery. Then he
+threw back his shoulders and set foot bravely within.
+
+“Come, comrade, let us know the worst!”
+
+Laurie, with a gesture of resignation, followed.
+
+“What you durst I will likewise durst!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II—THE GIRL IN THE WHITE MIDDY
+
+
+When Doctor John Hyde Hillman started a modest school for boys, on the
+bank of the Hudson River, at Orstead, the town barely crept to the one
+brick building that contained dormitory and recitation-rooms. But that
+was nearly twenty years ago, and to-day the place is no longer isolated,
+but stands well inside the residence section of the village. There are
+four buildings, occupying most of an unusually large block. School Hall,
+four stories in height, is a red-brick, slate-roofed edifice, whose
+unloveliness has been mercifully hidden by ivy. It faces Summit Street
+and contains the class-rooms, the offices, and, at one end, the
+principal’s quarters. Flanking it are the two dormitories, East Hall and
+West Hall. These, while of brick too, are modern and far more
+attractive. Each contains sleeping-rooms to accommodate forty students,
+two masters’ studies, a recreation-hall, dining-room, kitchen, and
+service-rooms. Behind East Hall is the gymnasium, a picturesque
+structure of random-set stone, gray stucco, and much glass. Here,
+besides the gymnasium proper, is an auditorium of good size, a modest
+swimming-tank, locker-room and baths, and a commodious office presided
+over by Mr. Wells, the physical director. From the gymnasium steps one
+looks across an attractive, well-kept quadrangle of shaded turf,
+vegetable and flower gardens, and tennis-courts.
+
+Doctor Hillman occupies an apartment at the west end of the School Hall,
+gained from the building by way of the school offices, and from without
+by way of a wide porch, vine screened in summer and glassed in winter,
+an outdoor living-room where, on seasonable Friday afternoons, the
+doctor’s maiden sister, Miss Tabitha, who keeps house for him, serves
+weak tea and layer-cake to all comers. Miss Tabitha, I regret to say, is
+known among the boys as “Tabby,” with, however, no more intention of
+disrespect than in alluding to the doctor as “Johnny.” Miss Tabitha’s
+thin body holds a warm heart, and her somewhat stern countenance belies
+her kindly ways.
+
+On this fifteenth day of September, shortly after twelve o’clock, Miss
+Tabitha was seated on the vine-shaded porch in an erect and
+uncompromising attitude, her knitting-needles clicking busily. Near by,
+but a few moments before released from the office, the doctor was
+stretched in a long wicker chair, a morning paper before him. At the
+other end of the porch, a gate-legged table was spread for the mid-day
+meal, and a middle-aged colored woman—who, when it pleased her,
+answered to the name of Aunt Persis—shuffled in and out of sight at
+intervals. It was Miss Tabitha who, hearing the sound of steps on the
+walk, peered over her glasses and broke the silence.
+
+“Two more of the boys are coming, John,” she announced.
+
+The doctor grunted.
+
+“I think they are new boys. Yes, I am sure they are. And bless my soul,
+John, they’re alike as two peas!”
+
+“Alike?” The doctor rustled the paper to indicate interest. “Well, why
+shouldn’t they be? Probably they’re brothers. Let me see, weren’t those
+two boys from California brothers? Of course. Turner’s the name.”
+
+“Well, I never saw two boys so much alike in all my born days,” Miss
+Tabitha marveled. “Do you suppose they can be twins, John?”
+
+“It’s quite within the realm of probability,” was the reply. “I believe
+that twins do occur occasionally, even in the—er—best-regulated
+families.”
+
+“Well, they certainly _are_ twins!” Miss Tabitha laid down her work,
+brushed the front of her immaculate dress, and prepared to rise. “I
+suppose I had better go and meet them,” she added.
+
+“I don’t see the necessity for it, my dear,” the doctor protested.
+“Cummins may, I think, be relied on to deal even with—er—twins.”
+
+“Of course; but—still—California’s such a long way—and they may feel
+strange—or lonesome—”
+
+The doctor laughed gently. “Then by all means go, my dear. If you like,
+have them out here for a few minutes. If the resemblance between them is
+as striking as you seem to think, they must be worth seeing.”
+
+When Miss Tabitha had tripped into the house, the doctor dropped his
+paper, stretched luxuriously, and, with a sigh of protest, sat up. He
+was several years younger than his sister—which is to say, in the
+neighborhood of forty-seven. He was a smallish man, compactly built,
+with a pleasant countenance on which a carefully-trimmed Vandyke beard
+made up to an extent for the lack of hair above. He wore shell-rimmed
+glasses and was very near-sighted, a fact emphasized by his manner of
+thrusting his head forward to eke out the deficiencies of his lenses.
+This trick was apparent a minute later when, following in the tripping
+footsteps of Miss Tabitha, the two boys emerged on the porch. They were
+amazingly alike, the doctor decided: same height, same breadth at hip
+and shoulder, same coloring, same leisurely, yet confident, ease of
+movement, same expression of lively curiosity twinkling through an
+almost depressingly respectful solemnity.
+
+“These are the Turner boys,” announced Miss Tabitha. “This is Edward and
+this is—” She halted to look doubtfully from one to the other. “Or—or
+perhaps _this_ is Edward and—Dear me!”
+
+“I’m Edward, ma’am,” said the boy in blue.
+
+“Well, I don’t see how you can ever be _certain_ of it!” sighed Miss
+Tabitha, doubtfully. “This is Doctor Hillman.”
+
+They shook hands, and in a moment the boys found themselves seated side
+by side and replying to the doctor’s questions.
+
+“You are entering with certificates from your high school principal, I
+believe, young gentlemen. What year were you?”
+
+“Second, sir,” answered Ned.
+
+“And your home is in—”
+
+“Santa Lucia, sir,” replied Laurie.
+
+“California,” added Ned.
+
+“Well, you’re quite a ways from home. Did you make the trip alone?”
+
+“Yes, sir. Dad was coming with us as far as Chicago, but something
+happened so he couldn’t. We didn’t have any trouble, though.”
+
+“Really? Well, I believe you have the distinction of residing farther
+away than any of your fellows here. I don’t recall any one who lives as
+far away as California; do you, sister?”
+
+Miss Tabitha looked doubtful and hesitated an instant before she
+replied, “George Watson comes from Wyoming, I think, John.”
+
+“So he does,” assented the doctor, gravely; “but measured in a straight
+line, my dear, California is slightly farther than Wyoming.”
+
+“Is it?” asked Miss Tabitha, untroubled. “I never could remember where
+those western States are.”
+
+“You remember many more important things, however. My sister, boys,
+fancied that she detected a certain resemblance between you, and even
+surmised that you might be—er—twins. Doubtless she’s mistaken.”
+
+“No, sir,” answered Ned, more than a trace of surprise in his voice. “I
+mean, we are twins, sir.”
+
+“Why, now that’s interesting! Looking closer—” the doctor leaned
+forward and craned his head—“I believe I detect a certain slight
+similarity myself!”
+
+There was a perceptible twinkle behind the glasses and Laurie dared a
+laugh, in which the doctor and Ned joined, while Miss Tabitha murmured:
+“Well! I should think you _might_!”
+
+“I hope you are both going to like the school,” continued the doctor.
+“Of course, you’ll find our ways a little different, but we’ll try to
+make you feel at home. You are the first representatives of your State
+who have attended our school, and I trust that both in conduct and
+industry you will bring honor to it. Mr. Cornish, your hall master, will
+advise you in all matters pertaining to your studies, Other questions
+may be taken to Mr. Cummins, the school secretary, whom you have
+doubtless already met. But I want you always to feel at perfect liberty
+to come to me at any time on any matter at all. And,” added the doctor,
+with a twinkle, “if we fail you, there is still my sister, who, I assure
+you, possesses more wisdom than all of us.”
+
+Miss Tabitha acknowledged the compliment with a little wry smile, and
+Ned and Laurie arose.
+
+“Yes, sir,” said the former.
+
+“Thank you, sir,” said Laurie.
+
+“Luncheon is served at one in West Hall,” continued the doctor. “That’s
+the dormitory behind you there. Beginning with supper to-night, you will
+take your meals in your own hall, but only a few of the students have
+arrived as yet, and so only one dining-room is open. I’m very glad to
+have met you, young gentlemen. Mr. Cummins will direct you to your room.
+Good morning.”
+
+Five minutes later, the Turner twins set their suitcases down on the
+floor of Number 16 East Hall and looked about them. Number 16 was not
+palatial as to size, but it was big enough to hold comfortably the two
+single beds, the study-table, the two narrow chiffoniers, and the four
+chairs that made up its furnishing. There was a generous-sized closet at
+each side of the door, and two windows set close together between the
+beds. Under the windows was a wide seat, lacking only pillows to make it
+inviting. From the casements the boys looked over or through the topmost
+branches of the maples that lined Washington Street and followed Summit
+Street as it continued its ascent of the hill and presently leveled out
+between a thick wood on one side and an open field on the other.
+
+“That must be the athletic field,” said Laurie. “See the stand there?
+And the goal-posts? How do you like it?”
+
+“The field? Looks all right from here.”
+
+“I mean the whole outfit, you simp; the school and Doctor Hillman and
+Miss Frosty-Face and everything.”
+
+“Cut out calling names, Laurie. Miss Hillman’s all right. So’s the
+doctor. So’s the school. I like it. Wonder when our trunks will get
+here.”
+
+“Half an hour ago you had a hunch you weren’t going to like it,” jeered
+Laurie. “Changed your mind, haven’t you?”
+
+“Yes, and I’m going to change more than my mind.” Whereupon Ned opened
+his bag and selected a clean shirt. “What time is it?”
+
+“What do you wear a watch for if you never look at it?” grumbled his
+brother. “It’s ten to one, Lazy. I’m going to find a place to wash up. I
+choose this side of the room, Ned.”
+
+Ned studied the room a moment. “No, you don’t,” he challenged. “I’ll
+take this side. I’m the oldest.” “There isn’t any difference, you chump.
+One side’s as good as the other.”
+
+“Then you won’t mind taking the other,” answered Ned, sweetly. “Run
+along and find the lavatory. I think it’s at the head of the stairs.
+Wonder why they put us up two flights.”
+
+“Guess they knew you were naturally lazy and needed the exercise.”
+
+Laurie dodged a pair of traveling slippers in a red-leather case and
+disappeared into the corridor.
+
+Some ten minutes later they descended the stairway together and set out
+for West Hall. Laurie drew attention to the gymnasium building, but Ned,
+who had recovered his appetite, only deigned it a glance. Two boys,
+luggage laden, evidently just arrived, came down the steps of School
+Hall as the twins passed, and stared curiously.
+
+“Guess they’ve never seen twins before in this part of the world,”
+grumbled Laurie. “Those chaps nearly popped their eyes out!”
+
+West Hall proved an exact duplicate of their own dormitory, and the
+dining-room occupied all the right end of it. There were about fifteen
+boys there, in age varying from fourteen to eighteen, and there was a
+perceptible pause in the business of eating when the newcomers entered.
+A waitress conducted them to seats at a table already occupied by three
+other lads, and asked if they’d have milk or iced tea. Ned, as usual,
+answered for both.
+
+“Iced tea, please, and lots of lemon.”
+
+A very stout boy, sitting across the table, sniggered, and then,
+encountering Ned’s inquiring regard, said, “Guess you think you’re in
+the Waldorf!”
+
+
+“What’s the Waldorf?” asked Ned. “Don’t you get lemon with iced tea
+here?”
+
+“Sure! but you don’t get much. Say, are you fellows—twins, or what?”
+
+“Twins?” repeated Laurie. “Where do you get that stuff? This fellow’s
+name is Anderson and mine’s Stenman. What’s yours?”
+
+“Crow. Honest, is that a fact?” Crow looked appealingly at the other
+occupants of the table. These, however, two rather embarrassed-looking
+youngsters of fourteen or thereabouts, fixed their eyes on their plates,
+and Crow turned his regard incredulously back to the twins. “Gee, you
+fellows look enough alike to be—be—” He swallowed the word. “Aren’t
+you even related?”
+
+Ned gazed speculatively at Laurie and Laurie gazed speculatively at Ned.
+“We might be,” hazarded the latter.
+
+Laurie nodded. “If we went back far enough, we might find a common
+ancestor.”
+
+The arrival of luncheon caused a diversion, although Crow, who was a
+round-faced, credulous-looking youth of perhaps seventeen, continued to
+regard them surreptitiously and in puzzlement. At last, making the
+passing of the salt an excuse, for further conversation, he asked,
+“Where do you fellows come from?”
+
+“California,” said Ned.
+
+“Santa Lucia,” said Laurie.
+
+“Well, but,” sputtered Crow, “isn’t California in Santa—I mean, isn’t
+Santa—Say, you guys are joking, I’ll bet!”
+
+“Methinks,” observed Ned, helping himself gravely to mustard, “his words
+sound coarse and vulgar.”
+
+Laurie abstractedly added a fourth teaspoon of sugar to his iced tea.
+“Like Turk or Kurd or even Bulgar,” he murmured.
+
+Crow stared, grunted, and pushed his chair back. “You fellows think
+you’re smart, don’t you?” he sputtered. “Bet you you are twins—both of
+you!”
+
+Ned and Laurie looked after him in mild and patient surprise until his
+broad back had disappeared from view. Then a choking sound came from one
+of the younger lads, and Ned asked gently, “Now what’s your trouble,
+son?”
+
+The boy grew very red of face and gave way to giggles. “I knew all the
+time you were twins,” he gasped.
+
+“Did you really?” exclaimed Laurie. “Well, listen. Just as a favor to
+us, don’t say anything about it, eh? You see, we’re sort of—sort of—”
+
+“Sort of sensitive,” aided Ned. “We’d rather it wasn’t generally known.
+You understand, don’t you?”
+
+The boy looked as if he was very far indeed from understanding, but he
+nodded, choked again, and muttered something that seemed to indicate
+that the secret was safe with him. Laurie thanked him gratefully.
+
+After luncheon they went sight-seeing about the school, snooped through
+the dim corridors and empty class-rooms of School Hall, viewed the
+gymnasium and experimented with numerous apparatus, and finally, after
+browsing through a flower and vegetable garden behind the recitation
+building and watching two boys make a pretense of playing tennis,
+returned to Number 16 in the hope of finding their trunks. But the
+baggage had not arrived, and presently, since the room was none too
+cool, they descended again and followed the curving drive to the right
+and past a sign that said “Exit Only” and wandered west on Summit
+Street.
+
+For the middle of September in the latitude of southern New York the
+weather was decidedly warm, and neither grass nor trees hinted that
+autumn had arrived. In the well-kept gardens across the way, scarlet
+sage and cosmos, asters and dahlias made riots of color.
+
+“Hot!” grunted Ned, running a finger around the inside of his collar.
+
+“Beastly,” agreed Laurie, removing his cap and fanning his heated face.
+“Wonder where the river is. If we had our bathing-suits, maybe we could
+go for a swim.”
+
+“Yes, and if we had a cake of ice we could sit on it!” responded Ned,
+sarcastically. “This place is hotter than Santa Lucia.”
+
+At the next corner they turned again to the right. Morton Street, like
+so many of the streets in Orstead, refused to go straight, and after a
+few minutes, to their mild bewilderment, they found themselves on Walnut
+Street once more, a block below the school.
+
+“I’m not going back yet,” said Laurie, firmly. “Let’s find a place where
+we can get something cool to drink.”
+
+As Walnut Street was unpromising, they crossed it and meandered along
+Garden Street. The houses here appeared to be less prosperous, and the
+front yards were less likely to hold lawn and flowers than dilapidated
+baby-carriages. At the first crossing they peered right and left, and
+were rewarded by the sight of a swinging sign at a little distance.
+
+What the sign said was as yet a mystery, for the trees intervened, but
+Laurie declared that he believed in signs and they made their way toward
+it. It finally proved to be a very cheerful little sign hung above a
+little white door in a little pale-blue two-story house, the lower floor
+of which was plainly devoted to commercial purposes.
+
+                              L. S. DEANE
+                            BOOKS, TOYS, AND
+                             CONFECTIONERY
+                          CIRCULATING LIBRARY
+                             LAUNDRY AGENCY
+                                 TONICS
+
+That is what the sign said in red letters on a white background. The
+windows, many paned, allowed uncertain glimpses of various articles:
+tops of red and blue and green, boxes of pencils, pads of paper, jars of
+candy, many bottles of ink, a catcher’s glove, a dozen tennis-balls,
+some paper kites—
+
+Laurie dragged Ned inside, through a screen door that, on opening,
+caused a bell to tinkle somewhere in the farther recesses of the little
+building. It was dark inside, after the glare of the street, and
+refreshingly cool. Laurie, leading the way, collided with a bench,
+caromed off the end of a counter, and became aware of a figure, dimly
+seen, beyond the width of a show-case.
+
+“Have you anything cold to drink?” asked Ned, leaning across the
+show-case.
+
+“Ginger-ale or tonic or something?” Laurie elaborated.
+
+“Yes, indeed,” replied the apparition, in a strangely familiar voice.
+“If you will step over to the other side, please—”
+
+Ned and Laurie leaned farther across the show-case.
+
+It was the girl in the white middy dress.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III—CAKES AND ALE
+
+
+“Hello!” exclaimed the twins, in one voice.
+
+“Hello,” replied the girl, and they suspected that she was smiling,
+although their eyes were still too unused to the dimness of the little
+store for them to be certain. She was still only a vague figure in
+white, with a deeper blur where her face should have been. Treading on
+each other’s heels, Ned and Laurie followed her to the other side. The
+twilight brightened and objects became more distinct. They were in front
+of a sort of trough-like box in which, half afloat in a pool of
+ice-water, were bottles of tonic and soda and ginger-ale. Behind it was
+a counter on which reposed a modest array of pastry.
+
+“What do you want?” asked the girl in the middy.
+
+“Ginger-ale,” answered Ned. “Say, do you live here?”
+
+“No, this is the shop,” was the reply. “I live upstairs.”
+
+“Oh, well, you know what I mean,” muttered Ned. “Is this your store?”
+
+“It’s my mother’s. I help in it afternoons. My mother is Mrs. Deane. The
+boys call her the Widow. I’m Polly Deane.”
+
+“Pleased to know you,” said Laurie. “Our name’s Turner. I’m Laurie and
+he’s Ned. Let me open that for you.”
+
+“Oh, no, thanks. I’ve opened hundreds of them. Oh dear! You said
+ginger-ale, didn’t you! And I’ve opened a root-beer. It’s so dark in
+here in the afternoon.”
+
+“That’s all right,” Ned assured her. “We like root-beer. We’d just as
+soon have it as ginger-ale. Wouldn’t we, Laurie?”
+
+“You bet! We’re crazy about it.”
+
+“Are you sure? It’s no trouble to—Well, _this_ is ginger-ale, anyway.
+I’m awfully sorry!”
+
+“What do we care?” asked Ned. “We don’t own it.”
+
+“Don’t own it?” repeated Polly, in a puzzled tone.
+
+“That’s just an expression of his,” explained Laurie. “He’s awfully
+slangy. I try to break him of it, but it’s no use. It’s fierce.”
+
+“Of course _you_ don’t use slang?” asked Polly, demurely. “Who wants the
+root-beer?”
+
+“You take it,” said Laurie, hurriedly.
+
+“No, you,” said Ned. “You’re fonder of it than I am, Laurie. I don’t
+mind, really!”
+
+Laurie managed a surreptitious kick on his brother’s shin. “Tell you
+what,” he exclaimed, “we’ll mix ’em!”
+
+Ned agreed, though not enthusiastically, and with the aid of a third
+glass the deed was done. The boys tasted experimentally, each asking a
+question over the rim of his glass. Then looks of relief came over both
+faces and they sighed ecstatically.
+
+“Corking!” they breathed in unison.
+
+Polly laughed, “I never knew any one to do that before,” she said. “I’m
+glad you like it. I’ll tell the other boys about it.”
+
+“No, you mustn’t,” protested Ned. “It’s our invention. We’ll call
+it—call it—”
+
+“Call it an Accident,” suggested Laurie.
+
+“We’ll call it a Polly,” continued the other. “It really is bully.
+It’s—it’s different; isn’t it, Laurie? Have another?”
+
+“Who were those on?” was the suspicious reply.
+
+“You. The next is on me. Only maybe another wouldn’t taste so good, eh?”
+
+“Don’t you fool yourself! I’ll risk that.”
+
+However, the third and fourth bottles, properly combined though they
+were, lacked novelty, and it was some time before the last glass was
+emptied. Meanwhile, of course, they talked. The boys acknowledged that,
+so far, they liked what they had seen of the school. Mention of the
+doctor and Miss Hillman brought forth warm praise from Polly. “Every one
+likes the doctor ever so much,” she declared. “And Miss Tabitha is—”
+
+“Miss what?” interrupted Laurie.
+
+“Miss Tabitha. That’s her name.” Polly laughed softly. “They call her
+Tabby,—the boys, I mean,—but they like her. She’s a dear, even if she
+does look sort of—of cranky. She isn’t, though, a bit. She makes
+believe she’s awfully stern, but she’s just as soft as—as—”
+
+“As Laurie’s head?” offered Ned, helpfully. “Say, you sell ’most
+everything here, don’t you? Are those cream-puffs?”
+
+Ned slipped a hand into his pocket and Laurie coughed furiously. Ned’s
+hand came forth empty. He turned away from temptation. “They look mighty
+good,” he said. “If we’d seen those before we’d had all that
+ginger-ale—”
+
+Polly spoke detachedly. “You can have credit if you like,” she said,
+placing the empty bottles aside. “The doctor lets the boys run bills
+here up to a dollar. They can’t go over a dollar, though.”
+
+“Personally,” observed Laurie, jingling some coins in a trousers pocket,
+“I prefer to pay cash. Still, there are times—”
+
+“Yes, a fellow gets short now and then,” said Ned, turning for another
+look at the pastry counter. “Maybe, just for—for convenience, it would
+be a good plan to have an account here, Laurie. Sometimes a fellow
+forgets to put any money in his pocket, you know. Does your mother make
+these?”
+
+“Yes, the cream-cakes, and some of the others. The rest Miss Comfort
+makes.”
+
+“That’s another funny name,” said Laurie. “Who is Miss Comfort?”
+
+“She’s—she’s just Miss Comfort, I guess,” replied Polly. “She lives on
+the next corner, in the house with the white shutters. She’s quite old,
+almost seventy, I suppose, and she makes the nicest cake in Orstead.
+Everybody goes to her for cakes. That’s the way she lives, I guess.”
+
+“Maybe we’d ought to help her,” suggested Ned, mentally choosing the
+largest and fattest cakes on the tray. “I guess we’ll take a couple. How
+much are they?”
+
+“Six cents apiece,” said Polly. “Do you want them in a bag?”
+
+“No, thanks.” Ned handed one of the cakes to Laurie; “we’ll eat them
+now.” Then, between mouthfuls; “Maybe you’d better charge this to us. If
+we’re going to open an account, we might as well do it now, don’t you
+think?”
+
+Polly retired behind a counter and produced a long and narrow book, from
+which dangled a lead pencil at the end of a string. She put the tip of
+the pencil between her lips and looked across. “You’d better tell me
+your full names, I think.”
+
+“Edward Anderson Turner and—”
+
+“I meant just your first names.”
+
+“Oh! Edward and Laurence. You can charge us each with two bottles and
+one cake.”
+
+“I like that!” scoffed Laurie. “Thought you were treating to cakes?”
+
+“Huh! Don’t you want to help Miss Comfort? I should think you’d like
+to—to do a charitable act once in a while.”
+
+“Don’t see what difference it makes to her,” grumbled Laurie, “whether
+you pay for both or I pay for one. She gets her money just the same.”
+
+Ned brushed a crumb from his jacket. “You don’t get the idea,” he
+replied gently. “Of course, I might pay for both, but you wouldn’t feel
+right about it, Laurie.”
+
+“Wouldn’t I? Where do you get that stuff? You try it and see.” Laurie
+spoke grimly, but not hopefully. Across the counter, Polly was giggling
+over the account-book.
+
+“You’re the funniest boys I ever did see,” she explained, in answer to
+their inquiring looks. “You—you say such funny things!”
+
+Before she could elucidate, footsteps sounded in the room behind the
+store and a tiny white-haired woman appeared. In spite of her hair, she
+couldn’t have been very old, for her face was plump and unwrinkled and
+her cheeks quite rosy. Seeing the customers, she bowed prettily and said
+“Good afternoon” in a very sweet voice.
+
+“Good afternoon,” returned the twins.
+
+“Mama, these are the Turner boys,” said Polly. “One of them is Ned and
+the other is Laurie, but I don’t know which, because they look just
+exactly alike. They—they’re twins!”
+
+“I want to know!” said Mrs. Deane. “Isn’t that nice? I’m very pleased to
+meet you, young gentlemen. I hope Polly has served you with what you
+wanted. My stock is kind of low just now. You see, we don’t have many
+customers in summer, and it’s very hard to get things, nowadays, even if
+you do pay three times what they’re worth. Polly, those ice-cream cones
+never did come, did they?”
+
+“Gee, do you have ice-cream?” asked Ned; eagerly.
+
+“Never you mind!” said Laurie, grabbing his arm. “You come on out of
+here before you die on my hands. I’m sorry to tell you, ma’am, that he
+doesn’t know when to stop eating. I have to go around everywhere with
+him and look after him. If I didn’t, he’d be dead in no time.”
+
+“I want to know!” exclaimed the Widow Deane interestedly. “Why, it’s
+very fortunate for him he has you, isn’t it?”
+
+“Yes’m,” answered Laurie, but he spoke doubtfully, for the little
+white-haired lady seemed to hide a laugh behind her words. Ned was
+grinning. Laurie propelled him to the door. Then, without relinquishing
+his grasp, he doffed his cap.
+
+“Good afternoon,” he said, “We’ll come again,”
+
+“We know not how,” added Ned, “we know not when.”
+
+“Bless my soul!” murmured the Widow, as the screen door swung behind
+them.
+
+Back at school, the twins found a different scene from what they had
+left. The grounds were populous with boys, and open windows in the two
+dormitory buildings showed many others. The entrances were piled with
+trunks and more were arriving. A rattling taxi turned in at the gate,
+with much blowing of a frenzied but bronchial horn, and added five merry
+youths to the population. Ned and Laurie made their way to East Hall,
+conscious, as they approached, of many eyes focussed on them from
+wide-flung windows. Remarks reached them, too.
+
+“See who’s with us!” came from a second-floor casement above the
+entrance; “the two Dromios!”
+
+“Tweedledum and Tweedledee!”
+
+“The Siamese Twins, I’ll bet a cooky!”
+
+“Hi, East Hall! Heads out!”
+
+The two were glad when they reached the shelter of the doorway. “Some
+one’s going to get his head punched before long,” growled Ned, as they
+started upstairs.
+
+“What do we care? We don’t own ’em. Let them have their fun, Neddie.”
+
+“I’ll let some of them have a wallop,” was the answer. “You’d think we
+were the first pair of twins they’d ever seen!”
+
+“Well, maybe we are. How do you know? Suppose those trunks have come?”
+
+They had, and for the next hour the twins were busy unpacking and
+getting settled. From beyond their door came sounds of much turmoil; the
+noise of arriving baggage, the banging of doors, shouts, whistling,
+singing; but they were otherwise undisturbed until, just when Laurie had
+slammed down the lid of his empty trunk, there came a knock at their
+portal, followed, before either one could open his mouth in response, by
+the appearance in the doorway of a bulky apparition in a gorgeous
+crimson bath-robe.
+
+“Hello, fellows!” greeted the apparition. “Salutations and everything!”
+
+[Illustration: “Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!”]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV—KEWPIE STARTS SOMETHING
+
+
+The twins stared silently and suspiciously for an instant. Then Ned made
+cautious response.
+
+“Hello,” he said, with what must have seemed to the visitor a lamentable
+lack of cordiality.
+
+The latter pushed the door shut behind him by the kick of one stockinged
+foot, and grinned jovially. “My name’s Proudtree,” he announced.
+
+“You can’t blame us,” replied Laurie, coldly.
+
+Proudtree laughed amiably. “It is a rotten name, isn’t it? I live across
+the corridor, you know. Thought I’d drop in and get acquainted, seeing
+you’re new fellows; extend the hand of friendship and all that. You
+understand. By Jove, Pringle was right, too!”
+
+“That’s fine,” said Ned, with more than a trace of sarcasm. “What
+about?”
+
+“Why,” answered Proudtree, easing his generous bulk into a chair, “he
+said you fellows were twins.”
+
+“Not only were,” said Laurie, gently, “but are. Don’t mind, do you?”
+
+“Oh, come off your horse,” begged the visitor. “Don’t be so cocky. Who’s
+said anything? I just wanted to have a look. Never saw any twins
+before—grown-up twins, I mean. You understand.”
+
+“Thought you said you came to extend the hand of friendship,” retorted
+Ned, sarcastically. “Well, have a good look, partner. There’s no
+charge!”
+
+Proudtree grinned and accepted the invitation. Ned fumed silently under
+the inspection, but Laurie’s sense of humor came to his aid. Proudtree
+appeared to be getting a lot of entertainment from his silent comparison
+of his hosts, and presently, when Ned’s exasperation had just about
+reached the explosive point, he chuckled.
+
+“I’ve got it,” he said.
+
+“Got what?” Laurie asked.
+
+“The—the clue! I know how to tell you apart! His eyes are different
+from yours; more blue. Yours are sort of gray. But, geewhillikins, it
+must be a heap of fun! Being twins, I mean. And fooling people. You
+understand.”
+
+“Well, if you’re quite through,” snapped Ned, “maybe you’ll call it a
+day. We’ve got things to do.”
+
+“Meaning you’d like me to beat it?” asked the visitor, good-temperedly.
+
+“Just that!”
+
+“Oh, come, Ned,” Laurie protested, soothingly, “he’s all right. I dare
+say we are sort of freakish and—”
+
+“Sure,” agreed Proudtree, eagerly, “that’s what I meant. But say, I
+didn’t mean to hurt any one’s feelings. Geewhillikins, if I got waxy
+every time the fellows josh me about being fat—” Words failed him and
+he sighed deeply.
+
+Laurie laughed. “We might start a side-show, the three of us, and make a
+bit of money. ‘Only ten cents! One dime! This way to the Siamese Twins
+and the Fat Boy! Walk up! Walk up!’”
+
+Proudtree smiled wanly. “I only weigh a hundred and seventy-eight and
+three quarters, too,” he said dolorously. “If I was a couple of inches
+taller it wouldn’t be so bad.”
+
+“I don’t think it’s bad as it is,” said Laurie, kindly. “You don’t look
+really _fat_; you just look sort of—of—”
+
+“Amplitudinous,” supplied Ned, with evident satisfaction.
+
+Proudtree viewed him doubtfully. Then he smiled. “Well, I’ve got to get
+rid of nearly fifteen pounds in the next two weeks,” he said, with a
+shake of his head, “and that’s going to take some doing.”
+
+“What for?” Laurie asked. “Why destroy your symmetry?”
+
+“Football. I’m trying for center. I nearly made it last year, but
+Wiggins beat me out. He’s gone now, though, and Mulford as good as said
+last spring that I could make it this fall if I could get down to a
+hundred and sixty-five.”
+
+“Who’s Mulford?” inquired Ned. “A fortune-teller?”
+
+Proudtree ignored the sarcasm. “Mulford’s our coach. He’s all right,
+too. The trouble with me is, I’m awfully fond of sweet things, and
+I—I’ve been eating a lot of ’em lately. But I guess I can drop fourteen
+pounds if I cut out pies and candy and things. Don’t you think so?”
+Proudtree appealed to Laurie almost pathetically.
+
+“Don’t let any one tell you anything different,” replied Laurie,
+reassuringly. Ned, evidently recovered from his peevishness, asked:
+
+“What sort of football do they play here?”
+
+“Corking!” answered Proudtree.
+
+“I mean, Rugby or the other?”
+
+“Rugby!” exclaimed Proudtree, scornfully. “I guess not! We play regular
+football. Nobody plays Rugby around these parts. Are you fellows going
+out?”
+
+“Not just yet,” replied Ned.
+
+“He means are we going to try for the football team,” explained Laurie.
+“Yes, we are, Proudtree; at least, one of us is.”
+
+“You?”
+
+“We haven’t decided yet. You see, we’ve never played your kind of
+football. Back home, at high school, we played American Rugby, and it’s
+quite different. But we decided that one of us had better go in for
+football and the other for baseball, if only to do our duty by the
+school.”
+
+Proudtree looked puzzled. “How are you going to decide?” he asked.
+
+“Oh, we’ll toss up or draw lots or something, I suppose. Maybe, though,
+Ned had better play football, because I know more baseball than he does.
+Still, I’m not particular.”
+
+“That’s the limit!” chuckled the visitor. “Say, what are your names? I
+didn’t see any cards on the door.”
+
+“Turner. His is Laurie and mine’s Ned,” answered the latter. “Do we put
+our names on the door?”
+
+“It’s the best way,” answered Proudtree. “Well, I’ve got to be moving. I
+started to take a shower and got side-tracked. You chaps come on over
+and see me and I’ll get some of the other fellows in. You want to meet
+the right sort, you know. What’s your class?”
+
+“Lower middle, I reckon,” said Ned. “That’s what we expect.”
+
+“Too bad you can’t make upper. That’s mine. We’ve got a corking bunch of
+fellows this year. Well, see you later. Try for Mr. Barrett’s table when
+you go down. That’s the best. Maybe they’ll put you there if you bluff
+it out. You understand. So long, fellows.”
+
+Proudtree withdrew with considerable dignity in view of his bulk, waving
+a benedictory hand ere the door closed behind him. Ned shook his head.
+“Sort of a fresh hombre,” he said.
+
+“Oh, he only meant to be friendly, I reckon,” said Laurie. “You
+understand.”
+
+Ned laughed. “I’ll bet they’ve got a wonderful football team here if he
+plays on it! By the way, maybe we’d better settle which of us is to be
+the football star. I suppose they begin to practise pretty soon. I’ll be
+the goat, if you like; though you had better luck with that book you
+bought in Chicago. I couldn’t make head or tail of it. I never saw so
+many rules for playing one game in my life!”
+
+“It _was_ sort of difficult,” agreed Laurie. “I dare say, though, that
+you pick up the rules quick enough when you start to play. If you don’t
+really mind, I think you’d better go in for football, and I’ll do the
+baseball stunt. I’ve played it more than you have, you know, even if I’m
+no wonder.”
+
+“All right!” Ned sighed. “We’ll get a bottle of arnica to-morrow.
+Nothing like being prepared. How about going to see Mr. What’s-his-name
+before supper about courses?”
+
+“Might as well, and have it over with. I’d like to know whether we’re
+going to make the lower middle.”
+
+“Don’t see what else we can make. They can’t stick us in the junior
+class. Where’s my coat? For the love of lemons, Laurie, can’t you find
+anything else to sit on? Gosh, look at the wrinkles!”
+
+“Those aren’t wrinkles; they’re just creases. Come on!”
+
+Half an hour later they closed the door of Mr. Cornish’s study on the
+floor below, in a chastened mood. Each carried a little buff card
+whereon the instructor had tabulated an amazing number and variety of
+study periods. Back in Number 16, Ned cast himself into a chair, thrust
+his legs forth, and gazed disconsolately at the card.
+
+“I don’t see where a fellow finds time for anything but work here,” he
+complained. “Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one hours a week! What do you
+know about that?”
+
+“Well, don’t be so proud of it. I’ve got the same, haven’t I? I wonder
+how many hours he thinks there are in a day?”
+
+“I tell you what I think,” said Ned, after a moment’s thought. “I think
+he got it into his head that we’re very ambitious and want to graduate
+next spring!”
+
+“Maybe that’s it,” agreed Laurie, gravely. “Shall we go back and tell
+him he’s wrong?”
+
+“N-no, let’s not. He seemed a well-meaning old codger, and I wouldn’t
+want to hurt his feelings—if he has any. Let’s go down and see what
+they’ve got for supper.”
+
+Ned’s blandishments failed with the waitress, and they were established
+at a table presided over by a tall and very thin gentleman, whose name,
+as they learned presently, was Mr. Brock. There were four tables in the
+room, each accommodating ten boys and a member of the faculty.
+Diagonally across the dining-hall, the twins descried the ample Mr.
+Proudtree. Another table was in charge of a pleasant-faced woman who
+proved to be the school matron, Mrs. Wyman. Mr. Cornish, the hall
+master, and Mr. Barrett sat at the heads of the remaining boards.
+
+The room was very attractive, with a fine big stone fireplace at the
+farther end, and broad windows on two sides. The food proved plain, but
+it was served in generous quantities; and notwithstanding that the twins
+were a bit self-conscious, they managed a very satisfactory meal.
+
+Their fellow-students seemed to be a very decent lot. Their ages
+appeared to average about sixteen, and they had the clean, healthy look
+of boys who spent much of their time outdoors. At the table at which the
+twins sat, four of the boys were evidently seniors, and one was as
+evidently a junior. The latter looked hardly more than thirteen, though
+he was in reality a year older than that, and had the features and
+expression of a cherub. The twins concluded that he was a new boy and
+felt a little sorry for him. He looked much too young and innocent to
+face the world alone.
+
+No one made any special effort to engage either Ned or Laurie in
+conversation, perhaps because the returning youths had so much to talk
+about among themselves. Mr. Brock ate his supper in silence, save when
+one of the older boys addressed him, and had a far-away and abstracted
+air. Laurie saw him sweeten his tea three times, and then frown in
+annoyance when he finally tasted it.
+
+The boy who had guessed their awful secret at luncheon sat at the next
+table, and more than once Ned caught him looking across with a
+half-bewildered, half-frightened expression that somehow managed to
+convey the intelligence that, in spite of temptation, he had kept the
+faith. Ned finally rewarded him with a significant wink, and the youth
+retired in confusion behind the milk-pitcher.
+
+When the meal was over the twins went outside and, following the example
+set by others, made themselves comfortable on the grass beyond the walk.
+Near by, two older boys were conversing earnestly, and Ned and Laurie,
+having exhausted their own subjects of conversation, found themselves
+listening.
+
+“We’ve got to do it,” the larger of the two was saying. “Dave’s going to
+call a meeting of the school for Friday evening, and Mr. Wells is going
+to talk to them. I’ll talk too. Maybe you’d better, Frank. You can tell
+them a funny story and get them feeling generous.”
+
+“Nothing doing, Joe. Leave me out of it. I never could talk from a
+platform. Anyway, it’s the fellows’ duty to provide money. If they
+don’t, they won’t have a team. They understand that—or they will when
+you tell them. There’s another thing, though, Joe, that we’ve got to
+have besides money, and that’s material. We’ve _got_ to get more fellows
+out.”
+
+“I know. I’ll tell them that, too. I’m going to put a notice up in
+School Hall in the morning. Mr. Cummins says there are eight new fellows
+entering the middle classes this year. Maybe some of them are
+football-players.”
+
+“Bound to be. Did you see the twins?”
+
+“No, but Billy Emerson was telling me about them. What do they look
+like?”
+
+“Not bad. Rather light-weight, though, and sort of slow. They’re from
+Arizona or somewhere out that way, I think. You can’t tell them apart,
+Joe.”
+
+“Think they’re football stuff?”
+
+“Search me. Might be. They’re light, though. Here comes Kewpie. Gosh,
+he’s fatter than ever! Hi, Kewpie! Come over here!”
+
+It was Proudtree who answered the hail, descended the steps, and
+approached. “Hello, Joe! Hello, Frank! Well, here we are again, eh?
+Great to be back, isn’t it? Have a good summer, Joe?”
+
+“Fine! You?”
+
+“Corking! I was on Dad’s yacht all through August. Saw the races and
+everything. Bully eats, too. You understand.”
+
+“Yes,” Joe Stevenson replied, “and I understand why you’re about twenty
+pounds overweight, Kewpie! You ought to be kicked around the yard, you
+fat loafer. Thought you wanted to play center this fall.”
+
+“I’m going to! Listen, Joe, I’m only fourteen pounds over and I’ll drop
+that in no time. Honest, I will. You see! Besides, it isn’t all fat,
+either. A lot of it’s good, hard muscle.”
+
+“Yes, it is! I can see you getting muscle lying around on your father’s
+yacht! I’m off you, Kewpie. You haven’t acted square. You knew mighty
+well that you were supposed to keep yourself fit this summer, and now
+look at you! You’re a big fat lump!”
+
+“Aw, say, Joe! Listen, will you?” Proudtree’s gaze wandered in search of
+inspiration and fell on the twins. His face lighted. “Hello, you chaps!”
+he said. Then he leaned over and spoke to Joe. “Say, have you met the
+Turner brothers, Joe? One of ’em’s a swell player. Played out in North
+Dakota or somewhere.”
+
+“Which one?” asked Joe, surreptitiously eying the twins. “Why, the—I
+forget: they look so much alike, you know. I think it’s the one this
+way. Or maybe it’s the other. Anyway, I’ll fetch them over, eh?”
+
+“All right, Kewpie.”
+
+Kewpie started away, paused, and spoke again. “They’re—they’re awfully
+modest chaps, Joe. You’d think from hearing them talk that they didn’t
+know much about the game, but don’t you be fooled. That’s just their
+way. You understand.”
+
+“Oh, sure, Kewpie!” And when the latter had gone on his errand Joe
+smiled and, lowering his voice, said to Frank Brattle: “Kewpie’s trying
+to put something over. I wonder what.”
+
+“Proudtree tells me one of you fellows plays football,” said Joe, a
+minute later, when introductions had been performed and Ned and Laurie
+had seated themselves. “We need good players this fall. Of course, I
+hope you’ll both come out.”
+
+“Ned’s the football chap,” said Laurie. “Baseball’s my line.”
+
+“I don’t know—” began Ned, but Laurie pinched him warningly, and he
+gulped and, to Kewpie’s evident relief, made a fresh start. “I’m not
+much of a player,” he said modestly, “but I’m willing to have a try at
+it.”
+
+Kewpie darted an “I-told-you-so” glance at Joe and Frank.
+
+“Where do you come from, Turner?” Joe asked politely.
+
+“Santa Lucia, California. I was in the high school there two years.
+Everything’s quite—quite different here.” Ned spoke hurriedly, as
+though anxious to switch the conversation from football, and Laurie
+smiled in wicked enjoyment. “The climate’s different, you know,” Ned
+went on desperately, “and the country and—and everything.”
+
+“I suppose so,” said Frank Brattle. “What’s your position, Turner?”
+
+“Position?”
+
+“Yes; I mean, where did you play? Behind the line, I suppose, or maybe
+end.”
+
+“Oh, yes, yes, behind the line. You see, I—I—”
+
+“There aren’t many fellows can play half-back the way Ned can,” said
+Laurie, gravely. “He won’t tell you so, but if you ever meet any one who
+saw him play against Weedon School last year—”
+
+“Shut up!” begged Ned, almost tearfully.
+
+Kewpie was grinning delightedly. Joe Stevenson viewed Ned with absolute
+affection. “Half-back, eh? Well, we can use another good half, Turner,
+and I hope you’re the fellow. I don’t know whether Kewpie told you that
+I’m captain this year, but I am, and I’m going to try mighty hard to
+captain a winning team. You look a bit light, but I dare say you’re
+fast, and, for my part, I like them that way. Besides, we’ve got Mason
+and Boessel if we want the heavy sort. Practice starts to-morrow at
+four, by the way. How about your brother? Glad to have him come out,
+too. Even if he hasn’t played, he might learn the trick. And there’s
+next year to think of, you know.”
+
+“I think not, thanks,” answered Laurie. “One football star is enough in
+the family.”
+
+“Well, if you change your mind, come on and have a try. Glad to have met
+you. See you to-morrow—er—Turner. I want to find Dave, Frank. Coming
+along?”
+
+The two older boys made off toward West Hall, and as soon as they were
+out of hearing Ned turned indignantly on Laurie.
+
+“You’re a nice one!” he hissed. “Look at the hole you’ve got me in!
+‘Half-back’! ‘Played against Weedon School’! What did you want to talk
+that way for? Why, those fellows think I know football!”
+
+“Cheer up,” answered his brother, grinning. “All you’ve got to do is
+bluff it through. Besides, Proudtree asked us not to let on we didn’t
+know a football from a doughnut, and I had to say something! You acted
+as if you were tongue-tied!”
+
+“Yes; that’s so—you started it!” Ned turned belligerently around. “Said
+it would be a favor to you—” He stopped, discovering that Proudtree had
+silently disappeared and that he was wasting his protests on the empty
+air. “Huh!” he resumed after a moment of surprise, “it’s a good thing he
+did beat it! Look here, Laurie, I’m in a beast of a mess. Yow know I
+can’t face that captain chap to-morrow. Suppose he handed me a football
+and told me to kick it!”
+
+“He won’t. I’ve watched football practice back home. You’ll stand around
+in a circle—”
+
+“How the dickens can I stand in a circle?” objected Ned.
+
+“And pass a football for a while. Then you’ll try starting, and maybe
+fall on the ball a few times, until you’re nice and lame, and after that
+you’ll run around the track half a dozen times—”
+
+“Oh, shut up! You make me sick! I won’t do it. I’m through. I’d look
+fine, wouldn’t I? I guess not, partner!”
+
+“You’ve got to, Ned,” replied Laurie calmly. “You can’t back down now.
+The honor of the Turners is at stake! Come on up and I’ll read that
+rules book to you. Maybe some of it’ll seep in!”
+
+After a moment of indecision Ned arose and followed silently.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V—IN THE PERFORMANCE OF DUTY
+
+
+School began in earnest the next morning. Ned and Laurie were awakened
+from a deep slumber by the imperative clanging of a gong. There were
+hurried trips to the bath-room, and finally a descent to the
+recreation-room and morning prayers. Breakfast followed in the pleasant,
+sunlit dining-hall, and at half-past eight the twins went to their first
+class. There wasn’t much real work performed that morning, however.
+Books were bought and, being again in possession of funds, Ned purchased
+lavishly of stationery and supplies. He had a veritable passion for
+patent binders, scratch-pads, blank-books, and pencils, and Laurie
+viewed the result of a half-hour’s mad career with unconcealed concern.
+
+“You’re all wrong, Ned,” he said earnestly. “We aren’t opening a
+stationery emporium. Besides, we can’t begin to compete with the office.
+They buy at wholesale, and—”
+
+“Never mind the comedy. You’ll be helping yourself to these things soon
+enough, and then you won’t be so funny.”
+
+“That’s the only way they’ll ever get used up! Why, you’ve got enough
+truck there to last three years!”
+
+There was one interesting annual observance that morning that the twins
+witnessed inadvertently. At a little after eight the fellows began to
+assemble in front of School Hall. Ned and Laurie, joining the throng,
+supposed that it was merely awaiting the half-hour, until presently
+there appeared at the gate a solitary youth of some fourteen years, who
+came up the circling drive about as joyfully as a French Royalist
+approaching the guillotine. Deep silence prevailed until the embarrassed
+and unhappy youth had conquered half of the interminable distance. Then
+a loud “_Hep!_” was heard, and the throng broke into a measured refrain:
+
+“_Hep!—Hep!—Hep!—Hep!_”
+
+This was in time to the boy’s dogged steps. A look of consternation came
+into his face and he faltered. Then, however, he set his jaw, looked
+straight ahead, and came on determinedly.
+
+“_Hep!—Hep!_”
+
+Up the steps he passed, a disk of color in each cheek, looking neither
+to right nor left, and passed from sight. As he did so, the chorus
+changed to a good-humored laugh of approval. Ned made inquiry of a youth
+beside him.
+
+“Day boy,” was the explanation. “There are ten of them, you know:
+fellows who live in town. We always give them a welcome. That chap had
+spunk, but you wait and see some of them!”
+
+Two more followed together, and, each upheld in that moment of trial by
+the presence of the other, passed through the ordeal with flying colors.
+But the twins noted that the laughing applause was lacking. After that,
+the remaining seven arrived almost on each other’s heels and the air was
+filled with “_Heps!_” Some looked only surprised, others angry; but most
+of then grinned in a sickly, embarrassed way and went by with hanging
+heads.
+
+“Sort of tough,” was Ned’s verdict, and Laurie agreed as they followed
+the last victim inside.
+
+“It looks as if day students weren’t popular,” he added.
+
+Later, though, he found that he was wrong. The boys who lived in the
+village were accepted without reservation, but, naturally enough, seldom
+attained to a full degree of intimacy with those who lived in the
+dormitories.
+
+By afternoon the twins had become well shaken down into the new life,
+had made several superficial acquaintances, and had begun to feel at
+home. Of Kewpie Proudtree they had caught but fleeting glimpses, for
+that youth displayed a tendency to keep at a distance. As the hour of
+four o’clock approached, Ned became more and more worried, and his
+normally sunny countenance took on an expression of deep gloom. Laurie
+kept close at his side, fearing that courage would fail and Ned would
+bring disgrace to the tribe of Turner. But Laurie ought to have known
+better, for Ned was never what his fellows would have called a
+“quitter.” Ned meant to see it through. His mind had retained very
+little of the football lore that his brother had poured into it the
+night before, but he had, at least, a somewhat clearer idea of the
+general principles of the game. He knew, for instance, that a team
+comprised eleven players instead of the twelve he had supposed, and that
+certain restrictions governed the methods by which you might wrest the
+ball from an opponent. Thus, you could not legally snatch it out of his
+arms, nor trip him up in the hope that he would drop it. Ned thought the
+restrictions rather silly, but accepted them.
+
+The athletic field, known in school parlance as the play-field, was even
+larger than it had looked from their windows. It held two gridirons and
+three baseball diamonds, as well as a quarter-mile track and ten
+tennis-courts. There was also a picturesque and well-appointed
+field-house and a fairly large grand stand. To Ned’s relief, most of the
+ninety students were in attendance, though only about forty of the
+number were in playing togs. Ned’s idea was that among so many he might
+escape close observation.
+
+He had, of course, handled a football more or less, and he was possessed
+of his full share of common sense. Besides, he had perhaps rather more
+than his share of assurance. To his own surprise, if not to Laurie’s, he
+got through the hour and a half of practice very creditably. Seasoned
+candidates and novices were on the same plane to-day. There was, first
+of all, a talk by the coach. Mr. Mulford was a short, broad,
+good-humored man of about thirty, with a round and florid countenance,
+which possibly accounted for the nickname of “Pinky” that the school had
+affectionately awarded him. His real name was Stephen, and he had played
+guard, and played it well, for several years with Trinity College. This
+was his fourth season as football coach at Hillman’s and his third as
+baseball coach. So far he had been fairly successful in both sports.
+
+His talk was brief and earnest, although he smiled through it all. He
+wanted lots of material, but he didn’t want any fellow to report for
+practice who didn’t mean to do his level best and stick it out. Those
+who were afraid of either hard work or hard knocks had better save their
+time and his. Those who did report would get a fair trial and no favor.
+He meant to see the best team this fall that Hillman’s School had ever
+turned out, one that would start with a rush and finish with a bang,
+like a rocket!
+
+“And,” he went on, “I want this team made up the way a rocket is. A
+rocket is filled with stars, fellows, but you don’t realize it until the
+final burst. So we’re going to put the soft pedal on individual
+brilliancy this year. It almost had us licked last fall, as you’ll
+remember. This year we’re going to try hard for a well-rounded team of
+hard workers, fellows who will interlock and gear together. It’s the
+machine that wins, the machine of eleven parts that work all together in
+oil. We’re going to find the eleven parts first, and after that we’re
+going to do the oiling. All right now! Ten men to a squad. Get balls and
+pass in circles. Learn to hold the ball when you catch it. Glue right to
+it. And when you pass, put it where you want it to go. Don’t think that
+the work is silly and unnecessary, because it isn’t. A fellow who can’t
+hold a ball when it comes to him is of no use on this team. So keep your
+minds right on the job and your eyes right on the ball. All right,
+Captain Stevenson.”
+
+At least, Ned could, to quote Laurie, “stand in a circle” and pass a
+football, and he did, and did it better than several others in his
+squad. In the same way, he could go after a trickling pigskin and catch
+it up without falling over himself, though it is possible that his
+“form” was less graceful than that of one or two of his fellows. When,
+later, they were formed in a line and started off by the snapping of the
+ball in the hands of a world-wearied youth in a faded blue sweater
+bearing a white H on its breast, Ned didn’t show up so well, for he was
+almost invariably one of the last to plunge forward. The blue-sweatered
+youth called his attention to the fact finally in a few well-chosen
+words.
+
+“You guy in the brown bloomers!” he bellowed. (Of course they weren’t
+bloomers, but a pair of somewhat expansive golf breeches that Ned,
+lacking proper attire, had donned, not without misgivings, on Laurie’s
+advice.) “Are you asleep? Put some life into it! Watch this ball, and
+when you see it roll, jump! You don’t look like a cripple, but you
+surely act like one!”
+
+Toward the end a half-dozen last-year fellows took to punting, but, to
+Ned’s relief, no one suggested that he take a hand at it, and at
+half-past five or thereabouts his trials came to an end. He went out of
+his way, dodging behind a group on the side-line, to escape Joe
+Stevenson, but ran plump into Frank Brattle instead.
+
+“Hello, Turner,” Frank greeted. “How did it go?”
+
+“All right,” replied Ned, with elaborate carelessness. “Fine.”
+
+“Rather a nuisance having to go through the kindergarten stunts, isn’t
+it?” continued the other, sympathetically. “Mulford’s a great hand at
+what he calls the fundamentals, though. I dare say he’s right, too. It’s
+funny how easy it is to get out of the hang of things during the summer.
+I’m as stiff as a broom!”
+
+“So am I,” answered Ned, earnestly and truthfully. Frank smiled, nodded,
+and wandered on, and Ned, sighting Laurie hunched up in the grand stand,
+joined him. “It’s a bully game, football,” he sighed, as he lowered
+himself cautiously to a seat and listened to hear his muscles creak.
+“Full of beneficial effects and all that.” Laurie grinned in silence.
+Ned felt experimentally of his back, frowned, rocked himself backward
+and forward twice, and looked relieved. “I guess there’s nothing
+actually broken,” he murmured, “I dare say it’ll be all right soon.”
+
+“They say the first two months are the hardest,” responded Laurie,
+comfortingly. “After that there’s no sensation.”
+
+Ned nodded. “I believe it,” he said feelingly. He fixed his gaze on the
+farther goal-post and after a minute of silence remarked:
+
+“I’d like to catch the man who invented football!”
+
+He turned a challenging look on his brother. Laurie blinked and for
+several seconds his lips moved noiselessly and there was a haunted look
+in his gray eyes. Then, triumphantly, he completed the couplet: “It may
+suit some, but it doesn’t suit all!”
+
+“Rotten!” said Ned.
+
+“I’d like to see you do any better,” answered Laurie, aggrievedly.
+“There isn’t any proper rhyme for ‘football,’ anyway.”
+
+“Nor any reason for it, either. Of all—”
+
+“Hi, you fellow!” interrupted a scandalized voice. “What are you doing
+up there? Have you done your two laps?”
+
+The speaker was a lanky, red-haired man who bristled with authority and
+outrage.
+
+“Two laps?” stammered Ned. “No, sir.”
+
+“Get at it, then. And beat it in when you have. Want to catch cold, do
+you? Sitting around without a blanket or anything like that!” The
+trainer shot a final disgusted look at the offender and went on.
+
+“Gee,” murmured Ned, “I thought I was done! Two laps, he said! I’ll
+never be able to, Laurie!”
+
+“Oh, yes, you will,” was the cheerful response. “And while you’re doing
+them you can think up a better rhyme for ‘football’ than I did!”
+
+Ned looked back reproachfully as he limped to the ground and, having
+gained the running-track, set off at a stiff-kneed jog. Laurie’s
+expression relented as he watched.
+
+“Sort of tough on the kid,” he muttered sympathetically. Then his face
+hardened again and he shook his head. “I’ve got to be stern with him,
+though!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI—NED IS FIRM
+
+
+Kewpie Proudtree obeyed the shouted invitation to enter Number 16 and
+appeared with a countenance as innocent as that of an infant. “Hello,
+fellows,” he said cordially, dropping into a chair with indications of
+exhaustion. “How do you like it as far as you’ve gone?”
+
+Ned shifted in his seat at the study-table, choking back a groan, and
+fixed Kewpie with a baleful look. “Listen, Proudtree,” he said sternly.
+“I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”
+
+“With me?” Kewpie stared in amazement. “What have I done?”
+
+“You’ve got me into a fix, that’s what you’ve done! Didn’t you ask
+me—us—last night not to let on to Stevenson that we—I—couldn’t play
+football? Didn’t you say it would be a favor to you? Didn’t you say it
+would be all right and—and everything?”
+
+“Sure! What of it?”
+
+“Why, you crazy galoot, you must have told him that I knew all about the
+game! And you knew mighty well I didn’t! Stevenson thinks I’m a wonder,
+and I don’t know a touch-down from a—a forward kick!”
+
+“Pass, not kick,” corrected Kewpie, patiently. “Look here, Turner— Say,
+are you Ned or Laurie? Blessed if I can tell!”
+
+“Ned,” replied that youth, with much dignity.
+
+“Guess I’ll have to call you Ned, then. Can’t call you both Turner. You
+understand. It was like this, Ned. You see, I want to stand in with Joe
+Stevenson. It—it’s for the good of the school. If they don’t play me at
+center this fall, who are they going to play? Well, Joe thought I—well,
+he seemed to think I hadn’t acted just right about keeping my weight
+down. He—he was sort of peeved with me. So I wanted to smooth him down
+a bit. You understand. That’s why I told him what I did.”
+
+“Well, what _did_ you tell him?”
+
+“Why, I sort of—well, it wasn’t what I _said_ exactly; it was what he
+thought I meant!”
+
+“Proudtree, you’re telling a whopper,” said Ned, sternly. “And you told
+one to Stevenson, too, or I miss my guess.”
+
+“I only said that you were a swell football-player.”
+
+“For the love of lemons! What do you call that but a whopper?”
+
+Kewpie looked both ashamed and distressed. He swallowed hard and glanced
+furtively at Laurie as though hoping for aid. But Laurie looked as
+unsympathetic as Ned. Kewpie sighed dolefully. “I—I suppose it was,” he
+acknowledged. “I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry, Ned, honest! I
+didn’t mean to tell what wasn’t so. I just wanted to get Joe’s mind off
+his troubles. You understand.”
+
+“Well, you got me in a mess,” grumbled Ned. “I got by all right to-day,
+I suppose, but what’s going to happen to-morrow?”
+
+Kewpie evidently didn’t know, for he stared morosely at the floor for a
+long minute. Finally, “I’ll go to Joe and fess up if—if you say so,” he
+gulped.
+
+“I think you ought to,” responded Ned.
+
+“Where’s the sense in that?” demanded Laurie. “What good would it do?
+Proudtree did fib, but he didn’t mean to. I mean he didn’t do it for
+harm. If he goes and tells Stevenson that he fibbed, Stevenson will have
+it in for him harder than ever; and he will have it in for you, too,
+Ned. Maybe he will think it was a scheme that you and Proudtree hatched
+together. That’s a punk idea, I say. Best thing to do is prove that
+Proudtree didn’t fib.”
+
+“How?” asked Ned.
+
+“Why, Proudtree—”
+
+“There’s an awful lot of that ‘Proudtree’ stuff,” complained the
+visitor. “Would you mind calling me Kewpie?”
+
+“All right. Well, Kewpie told Captain Stevenson that you are a swell
+player. Go ahead and be one.”
+
+“Huh, sounds easy the way you say it,” scoffed Ned; “but how can I, when
+I don’t know anything about the silly game? I wish to goodness you’d
+taken up football instead of me!”
+
+“You got through to-day all right, didn’t you?” asked Laurie. “Well,
+keep it up. Keep your eyes open and learn. You can do it. You’re no
+fool, even if you haven’t my intellect. Besides, you’re the best little
+fakir that ever came over the range.”
+
+“You can’t fake kicking a football,” said Ned, scathingly.
+
+“Look here!” exclaimed Kewpie, his round face illumined by a great idea.
+“Tell you what, Ned! I’ll show you how to kick!”
+
+The silence that greeted the offer might have offended a more sensitive
+youth, but Kewpie went on with enthusiasm. “Of course, I’m no wonder at
+it. I’m a little too short in the leg and, right now, I—I’m a bit
+heavy; but I used to kick and I know how it ought to be done. Say we
+have a half-hour or so at it every morning for a while?”
+
+“Wouldn’t Stevenson know what was up?” asked Ned, dubiously.
+
+“He needn’t know. We’ll go over to the lot behind the grammar school.
+Even if he saw us, he’d think we were having some fun.”
+
+“He must have a strange idea of fun,” sighed Ned. “Still, if you want to
+take the trouble—”
+
+“Glad to! Besides, I owe you something for—for getting you in wrong.
+And I can put you wise to a lot of little things about handling a ball.
+We could do some passing, for instance. Wonder who’s got a ball we could
+borrow. I’ll find one somewhere. You understand. Now, what hour have you
+got free in the morning?”
+
+A comparison of schedules showed that on two mornings a week the boys
+could meet at ten, and on two other mornings at ten-thirty. The
+remaining days were not accommodating, however.
+
+“Well, even four times a week will show results,” said Kewpie,
+cheerfully. “This is Thursday. We’ll have the first lesson Saturday at
+ten.”
+
+“I hope they don’t ask me to do any kicking before then,” said Ned.
+
+“Not likely. You’ll get about the same stuff to-morrow as you had
+to-day. You’ll get by, take my word for it. That’s settled, then.”
+Kewpie referred to an ornate gold wrist-watch. “It’s after eight. You’re
+going over to Johnny’s, aren’t you!”
+
+“Johnny’s?” repeated Laurie. “Oh, Doctor Hillman’s! I suppose so. What’s
+it like?”
+
+“Oh, it isn’t bad. The eats are pretty fair. Anyway, he sort of likes
+the fellows to go, and he’s a good sort. You’ll be introduced to the
+faculty and their wives, if they have any, and meet a lot of fellows
+whose names you’ll forget the next minute. Take my advice and sort of
+work in toward the dining-room. Last year, the harlequin ice-cream gave
+out before I could get to the table.” Kewpie sighed. “Tabby has bully
+cake, too, and I’m off of cake. Isn’t that rotten luck?”
+
+“Awful!” laughed Ned. “You going over now?”
+
+“Yes. Come on and I’ll introduce you to some of the fellows you ought to
+know. I’ll wash my dirty paws and meet you in two minutes.”
+
+The principal’s reception proved rather enjoyable. The “eats” were
+excellent and, under Kewpie’s guidance, the twins reached the long table
+in the dining-room well in advance of the crowd. As Laurie remarked
+afterward, it was worth the amount of trouble involved just to watch
+Kewpie’s mouth water as he gazed soulfully at the chocolate layer-cake.
+To his credit be it narrated that he manfully resisted it. Besides
+consuming much delectable food, the twins were impressively introduced
+by their guide to a number of their fellow-students, the introduction
+being prefaced in each case by a sort of biographical note, as: “There’s
+Dan Whipple. The tall fellow with the trick collar, talking to Mrs.
+Wells. Rows stroke on the crew. Senior class president. Honor man last
+year. President of Attic, too. Good chap to know. Come on.” In such
+manner they met at least a half-dozen school notables, most of whom were
+extremely affable to the new boys. Sometimes, to be sure, the twins had
+a suspicion that Kewpie was pretending a closer intimacy with a notable
+than in fact existed, but he always “got away with it.”
+
+The only fly in the ointment of the evening’s enjoyment occurred when
+Kewpie mischievously introduced them to Mrs. Pennington, the wife of the
+Greek and Latin instructor, and sneaked away. Mrs. Pennington was tall
+and extremely thin, and viewed the world through a pair of
+tortoise-shell spectacles. She had a high voice and what Ned termed a
+“very Lake Superior” manner, and, since she confined her conversation to
+the benefits to be derived from an earnest study of the Latin poets,
+philosophers, and historians, the twins were not happy. Fortunately,
+very little was demanded from them conversationally, Mrs. Pennington
+being quite competent to do all the talking. But, unfortunately, she
+gave them no chance to get away. Ned descried Kewpie grinning
+heartlessly from the doorway and rewarded him with a terrific and
+threatening scowl. Kewpie, however, waved blandly and faded into the
+night. Release came to them at last and they scurried away, neglecting,
+in their hurried departure, to say good night either to the doctor or
+Miss Tabitha, a breach of etiquette which probably passed unnoted by the
+hosts. Back in East Hall, the twins hammered loudly at Number 15, but
+Kewpie was either absent or discreet. At any rate, there was no
+response, and revenge had to be postponed.
+
+To Laurie’s surprise, a notice on the bulletin-board in the corridor of
+School Hall the following morning announced that autumn baseball
+practice would begin that afternoon. He had supposed that his hour to
+offer himself on the altar of school patriotism would not arrive until
+the next spring; and later, when he strode down Walnut Street with Ned,
+in search of football togs for the latter, he broached the subject
+diplomatically.
+
+“Funny idea to have baseball practice this time of year, I think,” he
+remarked carelessly. “Not much good in it. A fellow would forget
+anything he learned by next April.”
+
+“Didn’t know they did,” replied Ned, uninterestedly. “Who told you
+that?”
+
+“Oh, there was a notice on the board in School Hall. Don’t believe many
+fellows go out in the fall.”
+
+“Thought baseball was a spring and summer game. Still, I dare say you
+can play it just as well now. Seems to me I’ve heard of having spring
+football practice, haven’t you?”
+
+“I dare say. Crazy scheme, though, playing games out of season.”
+
+“Ye-es.” Ned went on thoughtfully a moment Then he shot a suspicious
+glance at his brother. “You going out?” he demanded.
+
+“N-no, I don’t think so,” answered Laurie, lightly. “There’s that
+building we had the bet on the other day. We never did find out—”
+
+“Never you mind about that building,” interrupted Ned, severely. “I’m on
+to you, partner. You’re trying to renege on baseball. Well, it doesn’t
+go! You’re a baseball hero and you’ve got to get busy!”
+
+“Aw, Ned, have a heart! There’s plenty of time—”
+
+“No, sir, by jiminy! You got me slaving for the dear old school, now you
+do your bit!”
+
+“Yes, but it isn’t fair to start the baseball season in September. You
+know it isn’t.”
+
+“Cut out the alibis! You can get some baseball togs right now. Good
+thing you spoke of it. What’ll you need?”
+
+“All I need is kindness,” wailed Laurie. “Ned, I don’t want to be a
+hero! I don’t want to save the dear old school from defeat in the ninth
+inning! I—I—”
+
+“You’re going to do as you agreed to,” answered Ned, grimly. “Remember
+that the honor of the Turners is at stake!”
+
+Laurie sighed deeply. Then, “You speak of honor! Say no more. I yield,”
+he declaimed dramatically.
+
+“You bet you do,” answered Ned, unhesitatingly. “You for the baseball
+field!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII—HIGH SCHOOL ACCEPTS DEFEAT
+
+
+A week passed, and the twins began to feel like old residents. They had
+ceased being “the Turner twins” to acquaintances, although others still
+referred to them so, and their novelty had so far worn off that they
+could enter a classroom or walk side by side across the yard without
+being conscious of the rapt, almost incredulous stares of the beholders.
+To merely casual acquaintances they were known as Ned and Laurie; to a
+few friends they had become Nid and Nod. Kewpie was responsible for
+that. He had corrupted “Ned” into “Nid,” after which it was impossible
+for Laurie to be anything but “Nod.” Laurie had demurred for a time,
+demanding to be informed who Nod had been. Kewpie couldn’t tell him,
+being of the hazy belief that Nid and Nod were brothers in some fairy
+story he had once read, but he earnestly assured Laurie that both had
+been most upright and wholly estimable persons. Anyhow, Laurie’s
+objections wouldn’t have accomplished much, for others had been prompt
+to adopt the nicknames and all the protests in the world wouldn’t have
+caused them to drop them. These others weren’t many in number, however:
+Kewpie and Thurman Kendrick and Lee Murdock and George Watson about made
+up the list of them at this time.
+
+Kendrick was Kewpie’s room-mate, a smallish, black-haired, very earnest
+youth of sixteen, which age was also Kewpie’s. Thurman was familiarly
+known as “Hop,” although the twins never learned why. He was a candidate
+for quarter-back on the eleven and took his task very seriously. Lee
+Murdock was one of the baseball crowd, and Laurie had scraped
+acquaintance with him on the diamond during a practice game. The word
+“scraped” is used advisedly, for Laurie, in sliding to second base, had
+spiked much of the skin from Lee’s ankle. Of such incidents are
+friendships formed! Lee was two years older than Laurie, a big, rather
+raw-boned fellow with a mop of ash-colored hair and very bright blue
+eyes.
+
+George Watson was sixteen, an upper middler, and, as Laurie frequently
+assured him, no fit associate for a respectable fellow. To the latter
+assertion George cheerfully agreed, adding that he always avoided such.
+He came from Wyoming and had brought with him a breeziness of manner
+that his acquaintances, rightly or wrongly, described as “wild and
+woolly.” Of the four, Kewpie and George were more often found in company
+with the twins.
+
+There had been four lessons in kicking on an open lot behind the grammar
+school, two short blocks away, and while Ned had not yet mastered the
+gentle art of hurtling a football through the air, Kewpie was
+enthusiastic about his pupil’s progress. “Why, geewhillikins, Nid,” he
+broke forth after the fourth session, “you’re a born kicker! Honest you
+are! You’ve got a corking swing and a lot of drive. You—you’ve got real
+_form_, that’s what you’ve got. You understand. And you certainly do
+learn! Of course, you haven’t got it all from me, because you’ve been
+punting in practice two or three times, but I take some of the credit.”
+
+“You’ve got a right to,” responded Ned. “You’ve taught me a lot more
+than I’ve learned on the field. Gee, if it hadn’t been for you I’d been
+afraid even to try a punt over there! You ought to see the puzzled way
+that Pope looks at me sometimes. He can’t seem to make me out, because,
+I suppose, Joe Stevenson told him I was a crackajack. Yesterday he said,
+‘You get good distance, Turner, and your direction isn’t bad, but you
+never punt twice the same way!’”
+
+“Well, you don’t,” laughed Kewpie. “But you’ll get over that just as
+soon as I can get it into your thick head that the right way’s the best
+and there’s only one right!”
+
+“I know,” said Ned, humbly. “I mean to do the way you say, but I sort of
+forget.”
+
+“That’s because you try to think of too many things at once. Stop
+thinking about your leg and just remember the ball and keep your eyes on
+it until it’s in the air. That’s the secret, Nid. I heard Joe telling
+Pinky the other day that you’d ought to shape up well for next year.”
+
+“Next year!” exclaimed Ned, dubiously. “Gee! mean to tell me I’m going
+through all this work for next year?”
+
+“Well, you might get a place this year, for all you know,” replied
+Kewpie, soothingly. “Just keep on coming, Nid. If you could only—well,
+if you had just a bit more _speed_ now, got started quicker, you know,
+Pinky would have you on the second squad in no time, I believe. You’re
+all right after you get started, but—you understand.”
+
+“I do the best I know how,” sighed Ned. “I suppose I am slow on the
+get-away, though. Corson is always calling me down about it. Oh, well,
+what do I care? I don’t own it.”
+
+“I’d like to see you make good, though,” said Kewpie. “Besides, remember
+the honor of the Turners!”
+
+Ned laughed. “Laurie will look after that. He’s doing great things in
+baseball, if you believe him, and it wouldn’t be right for us to capture
+all the athletic honors.”
+
+“You make me weary!” grunted Kewpie. “Say, don’t you California chaps
+ever have any pep?”
+
+“California, old scout, is famous for its pep. We grow it for market out
+there. Why, I’ve seen a hundred acres planted to it!”
+
+“You have, eh? Well, it’s a big shame you didn’t bring a sprig of it
+East with you, you lazy lummox! Some day I’m going to drop a cockle-burr
+down your back and see if you don’t show some action!”
+
+Hillman’s started her season on the following Saturday with Orstead High
+School. As neither team had seen much practice, the contest didn’t show
+a very high grade of football. The teams played four ten-minute
+quarters, consuming a good two hours of elapsed time in doing it, their
+members spending many precious moments prone on the turf. The weather
+was miserably warm for football and the players were still pretty soft.
+
+Kewpie derived great satisfaction from the subsequent discovery that he
+had dropped three quarter pounds and was within a mere seven pounds of
+his desired weight. Had he played the game through instead of yielding
+the center position to Holmes at the beginning of the last half, he
+might have reached his goal that afternoon. Ned and Laurie wounded him
+deeply by declaring that there was no apparent improvement in his
+appearance.
+
+Ned saw the game from the substitutes’ bench, and Laurie from the stand.
+High School turned out a full attendance and, since Hillman’s was
+outnumbered two to one, “O. H. S.” colors and cheers predominated.
+Laurie sat with Lee Murdock, who, as a baseball enthusiast, professed a
+great scorn of football. (There was no practice on the diamond that
+afternoon.) Lee amused himself by making ridiculous comments in a voice
+audible for many yards around.
+
+“That’s piffle!” he declared on one occasion, when the ground was strewn
+with tired, panting players. “The umpire said, ‘Third down,’ but if they
+aren’t three quarters down, I’ll treat the crowd! The trouble with those
+fellows is that they didn’t get enough sleep last night. Any one can see
+that. Why, I can hear that big chap snoring ’way over here!” Again,
+“That brother of yours is playing better than any of them,” he asserted.
+
+“Ned? Why, he isn’t in! He’s on the bench down there.”
+
+“Sure! That’s what I mean. You don’t see him grabbing the ball away from
+Brattle and losing two or three yards at a time. No, sir; he just sits
+right there, half asleep, and makes High School _work_ for the game.
+Every time he doesn’t take the ball, Nod, he saves us three or four
+yards. He’s a hero, that’s what he is. If Mulford would get all the rest
+of them back on the bench, we might win.”
+
+“You’re crazy,” laughed Laurie.
+
+During the intermission, Laurie’s wandering gaze fell on two girls a
+dozen seats away. One, whom he had never seen before, displayed a
+cherry-and-black pennant and belonged unmistakably to the high school
+cohort. She was a rather jolly-looking girl, Laurie decided, with a good
+deal of straw-colored hair and a pink-and-white skin. Her companion was
+evidently divided as to allegiance, for she had a cherry-and-black
+ribbon pinned on the front of her dress and wore a dark-blue silken
+arm-band. For a moment Laurie wondered why she looked familiar to him.
+Then he recognized her as Polly Deane. The two girls appeared to be
+alone, although some boys in the row behind were talking to them.
+
+So far, the twins had not been back to the little shop on Pine Street,
+but Laurie resolved now that he would drop around there very soon and
+pay his bill before his money was gone. After paying the school bill for
+the first half-year, he and Ned had shared slightly more than twenty
+dollars, but since then there had been many expenses. They had each had
+to purchase playing togs and stationery, and, finally, had donated two
+dollars apiece to the football fund at the mass-meeting Friday night of
+the week before.
+
+Viewed from a financial standpoint, that meeting hadn’t been a great
+success, and it was no secret that, unless more money was forthcoming,
+the team would be obliged to cancel at least one of its away-from-home
+games. But it had resulted in bringing out a big field of candidates,
+and there had been a lot of enthusiasm. The next day, viewing his
+reduced exchequer, Laurie had ruefully observed that he guessed a dollar
+would have been enough to give, but Ned had called him a “piker” and a
+“tight-wad” and other scornful things. Yesterday Ned had borrowed half a
+dollar, which was more than a fourth of Laurie’s remaining cash; and the
+first of October was still a week distant. Realizing the latter fact,
+Laurie changed his mind about settling his account at the Widow Deane’s.
+But, he reflected, with another friendly glance in Polly’s direction, it
+wouldn’t be right to withhold his trade from the store. And he wasn’t
+anywhere near the limit of indebtedness yet!
+
+Two listless periods followed the intermission, the only inspiring
+incident coming when, near the end of the third quarter, Pope, Hillman’s
+full-back, foiled in his attempt to get a forward pass away, smashed
+past the enemy and around his left end for a run that placed the pigskin
+six yards short of the last white line. From there the home team managed
+to push its way to a touch-down, the third and last score of the day.
+The final figures were 10 to 7 in Hillman’s favor, and neither side was
+very proud of the outcome.
+
+Ned returned to Number 16 half an hour later in a most critical frame of
+mind, and spent ten minutes explaining to Laurie just when and how the
+school team had failed. At last Laurie interrupted him to ask, “Have you
+told this to Mr. Mulford, Ned?”
+
+“Mr. Mulford? Why—oh, go to the dickens!”
+
+“Seems to me he ought to know,” said Laurie, gravely.
+
+“That’s all right. You can be sarcastic if you like, but I’m talking
+horse-sense. You see a lot of things from the bench that you don’t see
+from the stand. Besides, you’ve got to know football to understand it.
+Now you take—”
+
+“I beg your pardon! Did you say anything about understanding football?”
+
+“Well, I understand a lot more about it than you do,” replied the other,
+warmly. “I’ve been playing it a week, haven’t I?”
+
+“Sure, but I’ll bet you don’t know how much a safety counts!”
+
+“I don’t need to. That’s up to the referee. But I know some football,
+just the same. And I punted forty-seven yards yesterday, too!”
+
+“In how many punts?” inquired Laurie, innocently.
+
+Ned threw a book at him and the subject was closed.
+
+In his own line, baseball, Laurie was not setting the world on fire. He
+was gaining a familiarity with the position of center fielder on the
+scrub nine, and batting practice was at least not doing him any harm.
+But he certainly had displayed no remarkable ability; and if Ned had
+gained a notion to the contrary, it was merely because it pleased Laurie
+to fool him with accounts of imaginary incidents in which he, Laurie,
+had shone most brilliantly. As Ned knew even less about baseball than he
+had known of football, almost any fairy-tale “went” with him, and Laurie
+derived much amusement thereby; decidedly more, in fact, than he derived
+from playing!
+
+On Monday morning Laurie dragged Ned over to the Widow Deane’s for
+ginger-ale, professing a painful thirst. The Widow greeted them
+pleasantly, recalling their names, and provided them with the requested
+beverage. Laurie’s thirst seemed to have passed, for he had difficulty
+in consuming his portion. When, presently, he asked politely about
+Polly, it developed that that young lady was quite well enough to attend
+high school as usual. Laurie said, “Oh!” and silently promised himself
+that the next time he got thirsty it would be in the afternoon. Ned ate
+two doughnuts and was hesitating over raspberry tarts when Laurie
+dragged him away. “Can’t you think of anything but eating?” demanded the
+latter, disgustedly. Ned only blinked.
+
+“Ginger-ale always makes me hungry,” he explained calmly.
+
+Two days later, the twins awoke to cloudy skies, and by mid-forenoon a
+lazy drizzle was falling, which later turned to a downright tempest of
+wind and rain. At four the baseball candidates scooted to the
+field-house for cover, although, peering forth through a drenched
+window, Laurie discerned the football-players still at work. Lee Murdock
+said he guessed the equinoctial storm had come, and that if it had
+there’d be no practice for a couple of days. Laurie tried to look
+broken-hearted and failed dismally. Taking advantage of a lull in the
+downpour, he and Lee, with many of the others, set forth for school.
+They were still far short of the gymnasium, however, when the torrent
+began again, and it was a wet, bedraggled, and breathless crowd that
+presently pushed through the door.
+
+George Watson, who had been playing tennis before the rain started, was
+philosophically regarding a pair of “unshrinkable” flannel trousers
+which, so he declared, had already receded an inch at the bottoms. It
+was George who suggested that, after changing to dry clothing, they go
+over to the Widow’s and have ice-cream at his expense. Not possessing a
+rain-coat of his own, Laurie invaded Number 15 and borrowed Kewpie’s. It
+was many sizes too large, but it answered. The Widow’s was full when he
+and George and Lee got there, and the pastry counter looked as though it
+had been visited by an invading army. There was still ice-cream, though,
+and the three squeezed into a corner and became absorbedly silent for a
+space.
+
+Polly was helping her mother, and Laurie exchanged greetings with her,
+but she was far too busy for conversation. Lee treated to a second round
+of ice-cream, and afterward Laurie bought a bag of old-fashioned
+chocolates. He hoped Polly would wait on him, but it was Polly’s mother
+who did so and asked after his brother as she filled the paper sack.
+
+“I do hope you’re looking after him and that he hasn’t eaten those
+raspberry tarts yet,” she said pleasantly.
+
+“Yes’m,” said Laurie. “I mean, he hasn’t.” He thought it surprising that
+the Widow Deane was able to tell them apart. Even Kewpie and George
+frequently made mistakes.
+
+It was still pouring when they went out again, and they hurried up the
+street and around the corner into School Park, their progress somewhat
+delayed by the fact that Laurie had placed the bag of candy in an
+outside pocket of Kewpie’s capacious rain-coat and that all three had
+difficulty in finding it. Lee had just popped a big chocolate into his
+mouth and George was fumbling into the moist bag when the clouds opened
+suddenly and such a deluge fell as made them gasp. In distance they were
+but a long block from school; but with the rain descending on them as
+though poured from a million buckets, their thought was of immediate
+shelter.
+
+“Wow!” yelped Lee. “Let’s get out of this! Here’s a house. Come on!”
+
+There was an opening in a high hedge, and a short brick walk from which
+the drops were rebounding knee-high, and, seen dimly through the deluge,
+a porch at the end of it. They reached it in what Laurie called three
+leaps and a jump, and, under shelter of the roof, drew breath and looked
+back into the gray welter. The park was invisible, and even the high
+lilac hedge was only a blurred shape. Lee had to shout to make himself
+heard above the rain.
+
+“Wonder who lives here,” he said. “I don’t remember this house.”
+
+“Sure you do!” said George. “This is the Coventry house. We’re on the
+side porch.”
+
+“Oh!” Lee gazed doubtfully into the rain. “Well, anyway, it’ll do. Gee,
+my trousers are soaked to the knees! How long do you suppose this will
+keep up?”
+
+“You said for two days,” answered Laurie, cheerfully, trying to dry his
+neck with a moist handkerchief.
+
+“I mean this shower, you chump!”
+
+“Call this a shower? What’s a cloud-burst like in this part of the
+country, then?”
+
+“We don’t have such things,” answered George, who was peering through a
+side-light into the dim interior. “Say, I thought this place was empty,”
+he continued. “I can see chairs and a table in there.”
+
+“No; some one rented it this fall,” said Lee. “I noticed the other day
+that the front door was open and the grass had been cut. I wouldn’t want
+to live in the place, though.”
+
+“Why?” inquired Laurie.
+
+But, before any answer came, the door was suddenly opened within a few
+inches of George’s nose and a voice said:
+
+“You fellows had better come inside until it’s over.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII—IN THE MISER’S HOUSE
+
+
+The invitation came from a boy of about sixteen, a slim, eminently
+attractive chap, who smiled persuasively through the aperture. Laurie
+knew that he had seen him somewhere, but it was not until they had
+followed, somewhat protestingly, into a hallway and from there into a
+large and shadowy drawing-room that he recognized him as one of the day
+pupils. Lee, it seemed, knew him slightly and called him by name.
+
+“We oughtn’t to come in here,” Lee apologized. “We’re soaking wet,
+Starling.”
+
+“It doesn’t matter,” answered their host. “Wait till I find a match and
+we’ll have a fire here.”
+
+“Don’t bother, please,” George protested. “We’re going right on in a
+minute.”
+
+“Might as well get dry a bit first. The fire’s all laid.” The boy held a
+match at the grate and in a moment the wood was snapping merrily. “Pull
+up some chairs, fellows. Here, try this. Some rain, isn’t it?”
+
+“Rather,” agreed Lee. “By the way, do you know Turner? And Watson?” The
+three boys shook hands. “I didn’t know you lived here,” Lee continued.
+“Saw the house had been taken, but didn’t know who had it. Corking big
+place, isn’t it?”
+
+Starling laughed. “It’s big all right, but it’s not so corking. Let me
+have that rain-coat, Turner. The rooms are so frightfully huge that you
+get lost in them! I have the bedroom above this, and the first morning I
+woke up in it I thought I was in the Sahara Desert! This was the only
+place we could find, though, that was for rent, and we had to take it.
+Dad came here on short notice and we didn’t have much time to look
+around. Pull up closer to the fire, Watson, and get your feet dry. I’ve
+got some slippers upstairs if you want to take your shoes off.”
+
+“No, thanks. I guess the wet didn’t get through. I’ve seen you over at
+school, haven’t I?”
+
+“Yes, I’m a day boy; one of the ‘Hep, heps!’”
+
+Lee grinned. “Sort of a mean trick, that, Starling, but they always do
+it every year.”
+
+“Wish I’d known about it beforehand. I’d have sneaked over a fence and
+through a window. It was fierce! I was the last fellow to get in this
+fall. Dad made application in August, and some fellow who had entered in
+the spring changed his mind; otherwise I’d have had to go to the high
+school.”
+
+“That would have been an awful fate,” said George, gravely.
+
+“Oh, I wouldn’t have minded. I like Hillman’s, though. Do any of you
+chaps play tennis?”
+
+“I try to,” answered George.
+
+“Wish you’d give me a game some day. Tennis is about the only thing I
+know much about, and I saw some dandy courts over at the field.”
+
+“Glad to,” George assured him. “Any day you like, Starling. I’m not much
+of a player, though, so don’t expect a lot.”
+
+“Guess you’re good enough to handle me,” laughed the other. “I like it
+better than I can play it. How about to-morrow afternoon?”
+
+“Suits me,” answered George. “Three-thirty?”
+
+“Fine! I’m going to get Dad to build a court in the yard here, if I can.
+There’s lots of room, but there’s a tumble-down old grape-arbor right in
+the middle.”
+
+“Yes, there’s surely room enough,” agreed Lee. “We used to come over
+here last fall and get pears—there’s a dandy seckel tree back there.
+I’d say there was room for two or three courts if some of the trees were
+cut down.”
+
+“What could he do with three of them?” asked Laurie.
+
+“I suppose we’d have to get the owner’s permission to even take that
+rickety old arbor down,” Starling said.
+
+“I thought the owner was dead,” Lee observed.
+
+George chuckled. “If he was dead he wouldn’t be the owner, you simple!
+Old Coventry died three or four years ago, but somebody owns the place,
+of course. If what they tell of the old chap is true, it must have
+broken his heart to know he couldn’t take the place with him! Maybe he
+took his money with him, though. Anyway, the story goes that he had
+slathers of it, and they could only find a couple of thousands when he
+died.”
+
+“What was he, a miser?” asked Starling.
+
+“Yes, one of the sort you read about in the stories. Lived here all
+alone for years and years with only a negro servant. They say you could
+never see a light in the place at night, and he never went off the front
+porch more than a couple of times a year. Then a carriage came for him
+and he got in and went down to the boat. He didn’t use the train because
+it cost too much. Of course, when he died, folks expected to find that
+he had left a mint of money; but all any one could discover was about
+two thousand dollars in one of the banks here—that, and this property.
+The heirs, whoever they were, pretty near tore the insides out of the
+house, they say, looking for coin, but they didn’t get any thing.”
+
+“And at night the old codger’s ghost walks around,” added Lee; “and if
+you follow him, he’ll take you to the place the money’s hidden.”
+
+“Honest?” exclaimed Starling, joyfully. “Gosh, that’s great! I always
+wanted to live in a house with a ghost.”
+
+“I’m sorry, then,” said George, “for I just made that part up.”
+
+“_You_ did?” Lee looked incredulous. “Where do you come in? I’ve heard
+that ever since I came here.”
+
+“No, sir; you may have heard the rest of the story, but not the part
+about the ghost. I wrote the yarn up in my junior year for an English
+comp., and tacked on the ghost feature as a sort of added climax. Got
+good marks, too, and the Orstead paper published the thing. I’ll show it
+to you, if you like.”
+
+Lee looked unconvinced still, and Starling disappointed. “Well, it’s a
+good story, anyway, and makes the place more interesting. Some day I’ll
+have a look myself for the hidden millions.”
+
+“Guess the old chap never had that much,” said George. “Thirty or forty
+thousand is about what he was supposed to have salted away.”
+
+“Scarcely worth bothering about,” observed Laurie, with a yawn.
+
+“But look here, what became of the servant?” asked Starling. “Maybe he
+got the dough and made off with it.”
+
+“Lots of folks thought that,” replied George; “but the theory didn’t pan
+out for a cent. The negro stuck around here for quite a while and then
+ambled off somewhere. He claimed that old Coventry died owing him a
+month’s wages, and tried to get some one to pay him, but I guess he
+never got any of it, if it was really owing.”
+
+“Where did he go to?” asked Starling.
+
+“I don’t know. New York City, I think.”
+
+“I’ll bet he either had the money or knew where it was,” declared
+Starling, with conviction. “Don’t you see, fellows, he did just what any
+one would do in his case? He stuck around so he wouldn’t be suspected.
+If he’d gone right off, folks would have said he was trying to avoid
+being asked about the money. And then he faked up the yarn about the old
+gentleman owing him wages. A first-class detective would have got trace
+of the coin, I’ll wager!”
+
+“You’ve been reading _Sherlock Holmes_,” laughed Lee. “Why don’t you
+follow up your clue, find the negro, and restore the lost wealth to the
+starving heirs?”
+
+“Huh! If he did get the money, he’s where even _Sherlock Holmes_
+wouldn’t find him by this time. Some one should have followed the fellow
+and kept watch on him right then. How old was he, Watson?”
+
+“About fifty, I guess. They say he had white whiskers, anyway. Oh, he
+didn’t know any more than he said he did. He was all right. He had been
+with old Coventry for years and years, one of those old-time family
+servants, you know, honest and faithful. Why, he went on something
+fierce when the old chap died!”
+
+“Say, how much of this guff is real and how much of it is English
+composition?” asked Lee, suspiciously. “How do you know the negro took
+on when the old codger died? You weren’t here.”
+
+“Maybe I heard it,” replied George, grinning.
+
+“Yes, and maybe you just made it up, like the stuff about the ghost,”
+Lee retorted sarcastically. “I’ve heard the yarn two or three times, but
+I never heard that the negro had white whiskers or that he went into
+mourning!”
+
+“It’s a fact, though,” declared the other, warmly. “I prepared mighty
+well on that comp.; talked with half a dozen persons who knew the story.
+Got most of the stuff from the Widow Deane, though. Old Coventry had
+been dead only about two years then and folks were still talking about
+him. The Widow doesn’t think the old chap had nearly as much money as he
+was supposed to have.”
+
+“She has the little store around on the back street?” asked Starling.
+
+“Yes. She took that as her share.”
+
+“Her share of what?” demanded Lee.
+
+“Why, of the estate. Old Coventry owned the whole half-block right
+through from Walnut Street to Pine. She rented that house from him until
+he died; paid a good stiff price, too; and then, when the estate was
+finally settled, she took it as her share, although she had to pay the
+other heirs something because they claimed that it was worth more than
+she had a right to.”
+
+“Look here,” said Lee, “do you mean that the Widow Deane was one of old
+Coventry’s heirs?”
+
+“Of course! Didn’t you know it? She was a half-sister. She lived over in
+New Jersey, she told me, until her husband died. Then she wrote to old
+Coventry, asking him to help her because she didn’t have much money, and
+he invited her to come here. She thought he meant to give her a home
+with him; but when she got here, the best he would do was rent her that
+little house around on Pine Street and stock it up for her as a store.
+Then he built a fence between the two places. It used to be open right
+through.”
+
+“Gee, you certainly know a lot of ancient history!” marveled Lee.
+
+“I believe in being thorough,” laughed George. “When I tackle a subject
+I get a fall out of it.”
+
+“So when I trail the murderer—I mean the thief,” reflected Starling,
+“I’ll be doing the old lady back there a good turn, won’t I?”
+
+“Surest thing you know!” agreed George.
+
+“And she needs the money, I guess. I don’t believe she makes a fortune
+out of that emporium. And that daughter of hers is a nice kid, too.”
+
+“How many other heirs are there to share in the money when Starling
+finds it?” asked Laurie.
+
+“I don’t know. Quite a bunch, I believe. The old chap wasn’t married,
+and the heirs are nephews and nieces and things like that. The Widow’s
+the only one living around here, though.”
+
+“Well, when I do find it,” laughed Starling, “I’ll keep it quiet and
+hand it all over to the Widow.”
+
+“He wants to make a hit with Polly,” said Lee. “He’s a fox.”
+
+“I’ve never seen her,” Starling denied.
+
+“Well, she’s a mighty pretty girl,” George avowed. “If you don’t believe
+me, ask Nod.”
+
+Laurie looked intensely innocent and very surprised. “Why me?” he asked
+blandly.
+
+George shook his head, grinning. “You can’t get away with it, son! Think
+I didn’t see you making love to the old lady this afternoon?”
+
+“Well,” Laurie laughed, “I thought it was Polly you spoke of.”
+
+“Sure, but she was busy waiting on a bunch of juniors and so you made up
+to the Widow. We saw you smirking and talking sweet to her, didn’t we,
+Lee? Butter wouldn’t have melted in the dear lamb’s mouth. And I thought
+the old lady seemed rather taken with him, too; didn’t you, Lee?”
+
+“Rather! It was positively sickening! Talk about foxes—”
+
+“Oh, dry up and blow away!” muttered Laurie. “Say, the rain’s stopped
+now—pretty nearly.”
+
+“Wants to get away from the embarrassing subject,” George confided to
+Starling. “Well, I never desert a pal, Nod. Come on, we’ll trot along.
+Much obliged for taking us in, Starling. Hope we haven’t ruined your
+rug. Half-past three to-morrow, if the courts are dry. I’ll meet you in
+School Hall.”
+
+“Glad to have you drop around at my room some time,” said Lee. “I’m in
+West; Number 7.”
+
+“Same here,” added Laurie; “16 East Hall. Thanks, Starling.”
+
+“You’re welcome. Come in again, fellows. When I get that tennis-court
+fixed up, we’ll have some fun here. You needn’t wait for that, though.
+I’d like you to meet my father and aunt. No one’s at home just now. I
+say, better take a couple of umbrellas.”
+
+“Not worth it, thanks,” answered Lee. “After that deluge, this is just
+an April shower. So long!”
+
+Lee’s statement wasn’t much of an exaggeration, and the three continued
+their way to the school unhurriedly. George remarked gloomily that it
+didn’t look awfully promising for tennis on the morrow, adding: “I’ll
+bet that chap’s a corking good player, too.”
+
+“Maybe you’ll learn a little about the game from him,” said Laurie,
+sweetly. “How old do you say he is?”
+
+“Starling? Oh, seventeen, maybe. He’s in upper middle.”
+
+“Sixteen, more likely,” said George. “He seems a decent sort, eh? How
+did you come to know him?”
+
+“I didn’t really know him. He’s in some of my classes and we’ve spoken a
+couple of times. Rather a—an interesting kind of chap. Wonder what his
+father does here. Funny place for him to come to. He spoke of an aunt,
+but didn’t say anything about a mother. Guess she’s dead. Auntie
+probably keeps house for them.”
+
+As they entered the gate George chuckled and Laurie asked, “What’s your
+trouble, Old-Timer!”
+
+“I was just thinking what a joke it would be if Starling took that stuff
+seriously about the hidden money and began to hack away the woodwork and
+dig up the cellar floor!”
+
+“Why, wasn’t it true?”
+
+“Sure! At least, as true as anything is that folks tell. You know, Nod,
+after being repeated a couple of hundred times a story sort of grows.”
+
+Lee grunted. “After some smart Aleck has written it up as an English
+comp. its own mother wouldn’t know it! The real joke would be for
+Starling to wreck the woodwork and find the money!”
+
+“No, that wouldn’t be a joke,” said George, “that would be a movie! Come
+on! It’s starting again! Last man in East buys the sodas! Come on, Lee!”
+
+Lee and Laurie ran a dead heat, and all the way to George’s room, on the
+second floor, each sought to shift to the other the responsibility of
+providing the soda-water for the trio. In the end, George appointed
+himself referee and halved the responsibility between them.
+
+When, twenty minutes later, Laurie climbed onward to Number 16, he found
+a very disgruntled Ned curled up in the window-seat, which was now
+plentifully supplied with cushions. “Where’ve you been all the
+afternoon?” he demanded aggrievedly.
+
+“Many places,” replied Laurie, cheerfully. “Why the grouch?”
+
+“You’d have a grouch, I reckon, if you’d messed around with a soggy
+football for almost two hours in a cloud-burst!”
+
+“Did you—er—get wet?”
+
+“Oh, no, I didn’t get wet! I carried an umbrella all the time, you silly
+toad! Or maybe you think they roofed the gridiron over for us?”
+
+“Well, I got sort of water-logged myself, and don’t you let any one tell
+you any different! Wait till I return this rain-coat and I’ll tell you
+about it.”
+
+“I’ve got troubles enough of my own,” grumbled Ned, as Laurie crossed
+the corridor.
+
+Kewpie wasn’t in when the borrowed garment was returned, but Hop
+Kendrick was, and Hop said it was quite all right, that Ned was welcome
+to anything of Kewpie’s at any time, and please just stick it in the
+closet or somewhere. And Laurie thanked him gratefully and placed the
+rain-coat, which wasn’t very wet now, where he had found it. And the
+incident would have ended then and there if it hadn’t started in to rain
+cats and dogs again after supper and if Kewpie hadn’t taken it into his
+head to pay a visit to a fellow in West Hall. Which is introductory to
+the fact that at eight o’clock that evening, while Ned and Laurie were
+conscientiously absorbed in preparing to-morrow’s Latin, a large and
+irate youth appeared at the door of Number 16 with murder in his eyes
+and what appeared to be gore on his hands!
+
+“That’s a swell way to return a fellow’s coat!” he accused.
+
+He brandished one gory hand dramatically, and with the other exhumed
+from a pocket of the garment a moist and shapeless mass of brown paper
+and chocolate creams. “Look at this!” he exhorted. “It—it’s all over
+me! The pocket’s a regular glue-pot! Ugh!”
+
+Laurie looked and his shoulders heaved.
+
+“Oh, Kewpie!” he gurgled, contrition—or something—quite overmastering
+him. “I’m s-s-so s-s-sorry!”
+
+Kewpie regarded him scathingly a moment, while syrupy globules detached
+themselves from the exhibit and ran along his wrist. Finally he
+exploded: “Sorry! Yes, you are!”
+
+Whereupon the door closed behind him with an indignant crash, and
+Laurie, unable longer to contain his sorrow, dropped his head on his
+books and gave way to it unrestrainedly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX—LAURIE HEARS NEWS
+
+
+October arrived with the first touch of cooler weather, and the football
+candidates, who had panted and perspired under summer conditions for a
+fortnight, took heart. Among these was Ned. Laurie, who at first had had
+to alternate sympathy and severity in order to keep his brother’s
+courage to the sticking-point, now found that his encouragement was no
+longer needed. Ned was quite as much in earnest as any fellow who wore
+canvas. Probably he was not destined ever to become a mighty player, for
+he seemed to lack that quality which coaches, unable to describe, call
+football instinct. But he had made progress—surprising progress when it
+is considered that he had known virtually nothing of the game two weeks
+before.
+
+Laurie, whose afternoons were still absorbed by baseball, viewed Ned’s
+efforts as something of a joke, much to the latter’s chagrin, and
+continued to do so until a chance conversation with Thurman Kendrick
+opened his eyes. Hop had come across one forenoon to borrow some notes
+and had tarried a moment to talk. In those days, when Hop talked he
+talked of just one subject, and that subject was football, and he
+introduced it to-day.
+
+“We’ve got to do better to-morrow than we did last week,” he said
+earnestly, “or we’ll get licked hard. Cole’s was fairly easy, but
+Highland is a tough customer. Our trouble so far has been slowness, and
+Highland’s as fast as they make them. Somehow, Mulford doesn’t seem able
+to get any pep into our bunch. The line isn’t so bad, but the back
+field’s like cold glue.”
+
+“That’s up to the quarter, isn’t it?” asked Laurie, anxious to prove
+himself not absolutely ignorant of the subject.
+
+“Yes, partly; but it’s up to the coach first. If the backs aren’t used
+to working fast, the quarter can’t make them. Frank Brattle’s a good
+quarter, Nod. I sort of wish he wasn’t so good!”
+
+“Meaning you’d have a better chance of swiping his job?” smiled Laurie.
+
+“Oh, I’ll never do that; but if he wasn’t so good I’d get in more often.
+The best I can hope for this year is to get in for maybe a full period
+in the Farview game. Anyway, I’ll get my letter, and maybe next year
+I’ll land in the position. Frank’s a senior, you know.”
+
+“Is he? I haven’t seen much practice so far. Baseball keeps me pretty
+busy.”
+
+“How are you getting on?”
+
+“Slow, I’m afraid. Anyway, you could easily tell Babe Ruth and me
+apart!”
+
+“I guess you’re doing better than you let on,” said Hop. “If you’re as
+good at baseball as your brother is at football, you’ll do.”
+
+“I guess I am,” laughed Laurie; “just about!”
+
+“Well, Nid is surely coming fast,” replied Hop, gravely. “He’s been
+doing some nice work the last few days.”
+
+Laurie stared. “Say, what are you doing, Hop? Stringing me?” he
+demanded.
+
+“Stringing you?” Hop looked puzzled. “Why, no. How do you mean?”
+
+“About Ned. Do you mean that he’s really playing football?”
+
+“Why, of course I do. Didn’t you know it?”
+
+Laurie shook his head. “He’s been telling me a lot of stuff, but I
+thought he was just talking, the way I’ve been, to sort of keep his
+courage up.”
+
+“Nonsense! Nid’s doing mighty well. I don’t know how much experience
+he’s had; some ways he acts sort of green; but he’s got Mason worried, I
+guess. If he had another fifteen pounds he’d make the team sure. As it
+is, I wouldn’t be surprised to see him play a whole lot this fall. You
+see, he’s a pretty good punter, Nod, and yesterday he blossomed out as a
+drop-kicker, too. Landed the ball over from about the thirty yards and
+from a hard angle. Mason doesn’t do any kicking, and it’s no bad thing
+to have a fellow in the back field who can help Pope out in a pinch.
+It’s his kicking ability that’ll get him on if anything does.”
+
+“I see,” said Laurie, thoughtfully. “Well, I’m mighty glad. To tell the
+truth, Hop, Ned hasn’t had an awful lot of experience. He’s had to bluff
+a good deal.”
+
+“I suspected something of the sort from seeing him work the first week
+or so. And then Kewpie said something that sort of lined up with the
+idea. Well, he’s working hard and he’s making good. Much obliged for
+these, Nod. I’ll fetch them back in ten minutes.”
+
+When Kendrick had taken his departure Laurie stared thoughtfully for a
+minute into space. Finally he shook his head and smiled. “Good old Ned!”
+he murmured. “I’m sorry I ragged him so. Gee, I’ll have to buckle down
+to my own job or he’ll leave me at the post!”
+
+After practice that afternoon, Laurie and Lee picked up George and Bob
+Starling at the tennis-courts, and, after changing into “cits,” went
+around to the doctor’s porch and joined a dozen other lads who were
+engaged in drinking Miss Tabitha’s weak tea and eating her
+soul-satisfying layer-cake. After a half-hour of batting and fielding
+practice and a five-inning game between the first team and the scrubs,
+Laurie was in a most receptive mood as far as refreshments were
+concerned. Miss Tabitha made an ideal hostess, for she left conversation
+to the guests and occupied herself in seeing that cups and plates were
+kept filled. No one had yet discovered the number of helpings of cake
+that constituted Miss Tabitha’s limit of hospitality, and there was a
+story of a junior so depressed by homesickness that he had
+absent-mindedly consumed six wedges of it and was being urged to a
+seventh when some inner voice uttered a saving warning. In spite of very
+healthy appetites, none of the quartette sought to compete with that
+record, but Laurie and George did allow themselves to be persuaded to
+third helpings, declining most politely until they feared to decline any
+more. Before they had finished, the doctor joined the group and made
+himself very agreeable, telling several funny stories that set every one
+laughing and caused a small junior—it was the cherub-faced youth who
+sat at Laurie’s table in the dining-hall and whose career thus far had
+proved anything but that of a cherub—to swallow a mouthful of mocha
+cake the wrong way, with disastrous results. During the ensuing
+confusion the quartette took their departure. At the gate Bob Starling
+said:
+
+“By the way, fellows, I spoke to Dad about that tennis-court, and he’s
+written to the agent for permission. He says there won’t be any trouble;
+and if there is, he’ll agree to put the garden back the way we found it
+and erect a new arbor.”
+
+“What will it be?” asked George. “Sod or gravel?”
+
+“Oh, gravel. You couldn’t get a sod court in shape under a year, and I
+want to use it this fall. I’m going to look around to-morrow for some
+one to do the job. Know who does that sort of work here—Lee?”
+
+“No, but I suppose you get a contractor; one of those fellows who build
+roads and stone walls and things.”
+
+“I’d ask at the court-house,” said Laurie.
+
+“At the court—oh, that’s a punk one!” jeered Bob. “See you later,
+fellows!”
+
+The game with Highland Academy was played across the river at Lookout,
+and most of the fellows went. In spite of Hop Kendrick’s pessimistic
+prophecy, Hillman’s took command of the situation in the first quarter
+and held it undisturbed to the final whistle. The contest was, if not
+extremely fast, well played by both teams, and the hosts refused to
+acknowledge defeat until the end. Captain Stevenson, at left tackle, was
+the bright, particular star of the day, with the redoubtable Pope a good
+second.
+
+It was Joe Stevenson’s capture of a fumbled ball in the first five
+minutes of play and his amazing run through the enemy ranks that
+produced the initial score. Pope kicked an easy goal after Slavin, right
+half, had plunged through for a touch-down. Later in the game, Pope had
+added three more points by a place-kick from the forty-two yards.
+Highland twice reached the Blue’s ten-yard line, the first time losing
+the ball on downs, and the next attempting a forward pass that went
+astray. Her one opportunity to score by a kick was wrecked by no other
+than Kewpie, who, having substituted Holmes at the beginning of the
+second half, somehow shot his hundred and seventy pounds through the
+defense and met the pigskin with his nose. Kewpie presented a
+disreputable appearance for several days, but was given due honor.
+Hillman’s returned across the Hudson in the twilight of early October
+with exultant cheers and songs.
+
+Ned watched that game from the substitutes’ bench, just as he had
+watched the two preceding contests, but a newly awakened _esprit de
+corps_ forbade complaining. When Laurie sympathetically observed that he
+thought it was time Mulford gave Ned a chance in a real game, Ned
+responded with dignity, almost with severity, that he guessed the coach
+knew his business.
+
+The first of the month—or, to be exact, the fourth—brought the twins
+their monthly allowances, and one of the first things Laurie did was to
+go to the little blue shop on Pine Street and pay his bill, which had
+reached its prescribed limit several days before. Ned went, too,
+although he didn’t display much enthusiasm over the mission. Ned held
+that, having created a bill, it was all wrong deliberately to destroy
+it. To his mind, a bill was something to cherish and preserve. Laurie,
+however, pointed out that, since one was prohibited from further
+transactions at the Widow’s, even on a cash basis, as long as one owed
+money there, it would be wise to cancel the debts. Ned recognized the
+wisdom of the statement and reluctantly parted with ninety-seven cents.
+
+Since it was only a little after two o’clock, the shop was empty when
+the twins entered, and Polly and her mother were just finishing their
+lunch in the back room. It was Polly who answered the tinkle of the bell
+and who, after some frowning and turning of pages in the account-book,
+canceled the indebtedness.
+
+“Now,” said Ned, “I guess I’ll have a cream-cake. Want one, Laurie?”
+
+Laurie did, in spite of the fact that it was less than an hour since
+dinner. Mrs. Deane appeared at the door, observed the proceeding, and
+smiled.
+
+“I’m real glad to see you’re still alive,” she said to Ned. “I guess he
+must take very good care of you.”
+
+“Yes’m, I do,” Laurie assured her gravely.
+
+Ned laughed scornfully, or as scornfully as it was possible to laugh
+with his mouth full. “You shouldn’t believe everything he tells you,
+Mrs. Deane. I have to look after him like a baby. Why, he wouldn’t get
+down in time for breakfast if I didn’t put most of his clothes on.”
+
+“That’s no joke, either,” retorted Laurie, “about you putting my clothes
+on. You’re wearing one of my collars and my best socks right now,
+and—yes, sir, that’s my blue tie!”
+
+“Wait a bit, partner! Where’d you get that shirt you’re wearing?”
+
+“That’s different,” answered Laurie, with dignity. “Mine are all in the
+wash. Besides, it’s an old one and you never wear it.”
+
+“I never get a chance to wear it!”
+
+“It must be very convenient for you,” said Mrs. Deane, smilingly, “to be
+able to wear each other’s things. Polly, I guess there won’t be any one
+else in for a while; maybe they’d like to see your garden.”
+
+Being assured that they would, Polly led the way through the back room,
+a pleasant, sunny apartment evidently combining the duties of kitchen
+and dining-room, and out to a little back porch shaded by
+morning-glories and nasturtiums that fairly ran riot over the green
+lattice. There was a braided rug on the floor and a small rocker and a
+tiny table on which were books and a magazine or two. The books were
+evidently Polly’s school books, for they were held together by a strap.
+
+The twins liked that garden. It wasn’t very large, for when the peculiar
+Mr. Coventry had divided the estate he had placed the high board fence
+very close to the little frame dwelling; but perhaps its very smallness
+made it seem more attractive. Narrow beds encompassed it on three sides,
+and a gravel walk followed the beds. In the tiny square inside, a small
+rustic arbor, covered with climbing rose-vines, held a seat that, as was
+presently proved, accommodated three very comfortably.
+
+But before they were allowed to sit down the boys had to be shown many
+things: the hollyhocks against the back fence, the flowering almond that
+had been brought all the way from the old home in New Jersey,—and had
+never quite made up its mind whether to die of homesickness or go on
+living,—the bed of lilies-of-the-valley that just _wouldn’t_ keep out
+of the path and many other floral treasures. Nasturtiums and
+morning-glories and scarlet sage and crinkly-edged white and lavender
+petunias were still blossoming gaily, and there was even a cluster of
+white roses on the arbor, for, so far, no frost had come. The twins
+admired properly and Polly was all smiles, until suddenly she said,
+“O-oh!” and faced them reproachfully.
+
+“You’ve just let me go on and be perfectly ridiculous!” she charged. “I
+don’t think it’s a bit nice of you!”
+
+“Why, what—how do you mean?” stammered Ned.
+
+“You have the most wonderful flowers in the world in California, and you
+know it!” she replied severely; “and you’ve let me show you these poor
+little things as if—as if they were anything at all in comparison! I
+forgot you came from California.”
+
+“Maybe we didn’t tell you,” offered Laurie. “Anyway, your flowers—”
+
+“In California they have hedges of geraniums and roses climb right over
+the houses, and orange-trees and palms and everything,” interrupted
+Polly, breathlessly. “Why, this garden must seem perfectly—perfectly
+_awful_ to you!”
+
+“Don’t you believe it!” denied Ned. “Flowers and things do grow bigger,
+I suppose, out our way; but they aren’t a bit prettier, are they,
+Laurie?”
+
+“Not so pretty,” answered the other, earnestly. “Besides, _I_ never saw
+a geranium hedge in my life. Maybe they have them in some places, like
+Pasadena, but there isn’t _one_ in Santa Lucia, honest. There isn’t, is
+there, Ned?”
+
+“_I_ never saw one. And palms aren’t awfully pretty. They get sort of
+scraggly-looking sometimes. Honest, Polly, I never saw a garden any
+prettier and cuter than this is. Of course, some are bigger and—and
+more magnificent—”
+
+“Who wants a magnificent garden?” demanded Laurie, scornfully. “What
+have you got in the box, Polly?”
+
+Comforted, Polly smiled again. “That’s Antoinette,” she said. “Come and
+see.”
+
+Antoinette lived in a wooden box in the shelter of the porch, and had
+long ears and very blue eyes and a nose that twitched funnily when they
+approached. In short, Antoinette was a fluffy smoke-gray rabbit. “She
+has a dreadfully long pedigree,” said Polly, as she took Antoinette out
+and snuggled her in her arms.
+
+“Has she?” murmured Laurie. “I thought it looked rather short.”
+
+“A pedigree isn’t a _tail_, you idiot,” said Ned, scathingly. “She’s
+awfully pretty, Polly. Will she bite?”
+
+“Of course not! At least, not unless you look like a cabbage-leaf.”
+
+“I wouldn’t take a chance,” Laurie advised. “Any one who’s as green as
+you are—”
+
+“She _tries_ to eat ’most everything,” said Polly, “but she likes
+cabbage and lettuce and carrots best.”
+
+“I wish I had a cabbage,” muttered Laurie, searching his pockets; “or a
+carrot. You haven’t a carrot with you, have you, Ned?”
+
+“You’re the silliest boys!” laughed Polly, returning Antoinette to her
+box. “Let’s go and sit down a minute.” And when they were on the seat
+under the arbor and she had smoothed her skirt and tucked a pair of
+rather soiled white canvas shoes from sight, she announced, “There! Now
+you can make up a verse about something!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X—POLLY ENTERTAINS
+
+
+“Make up a—what did you say?” asked Ned.
+
+“Make up a verse,” answered Polly, placidly. “As you did the other day
+when you went out. Don’t you remember?”
+
+“Oh!” Laurie looked somewhat embarrassed and a trifle silly. “Why, you
+see—we only do that when—when—”
+
+“When we have inspiration,” aided Ned, glibly.
+
+“Yes, that’s it, inspiration! We—we have to have inspiration.”
+
+“I’m sure Antoinette ought to be enough inspiration to any poet,”
+returned Polly, laughing. “You know you never saw a more beautiful
+rabbit in your life—lives, I mean.”
+
+Ned looked inquiringly at Laurie. Then he said, “Well, maybe if I close
+my eyes a minute—” He suited action to word. Polly viewed him with
+eager interest; Laurie, with misgiving. Finally, after a moment of
+silent suspense, his eyelids flickered and:
+
+“O Antoinette, most lovely of thy kind!” he declaimed.
+
+“Thou eatest cabbages and watermelon rind!” finished Laurie, promptly.
+
+Polly clapped her hands, but her approval was short-lived. “But she
+doesn’t eatest watermelon rind,” she declared indignantly. “I’m sure it
+wouldn’t be at all good for her!”
+
+Laurie grinned. “That’s what we call poetic license,” he explained.
+“When you make a rhyme, sometimes you’ve got to—to sacrifice truth
+for—in the interests of—I mean, you’ve got to think of the _sound_!
+‘Kind’ and ‘carrot’ wouldn’t sound _right_, don’t you see?”
+
+“Well, I’m sure watermelon rind doesn’t sound right, either,” objected
+Polly; “not for a rabbit. Rabbits have very delicate digestions.”
+
+“We might change it,” offered Ned. “How would this do?
+
+    “O Antoinette, more lovely than a parrot,
+    Thou dost subsist on cabbages and carrot.”
+
+“That’s silly,” said Polly, scornfully.
+
+“Poetry usually is silly,” Ned answered.
+
+Laurie, who had been gazing raptly at his shoes, broke forth exultantly.
+“I’ve got it!” he cried. “Listen!
+
+    “O Antoinette, most beauteous of rabbits,
+    Be mine and I will feed thee naught but cabbits!”
+
+A brief silence followed. Then Ned asked, “What are cabbits?”
+
+“Cabbits are vegetables,” replied Laurie.
+
+“I never heard of them,” said Polly, wrinkling her forehead.
+
+“Neither did any one else,” laughed Ned. “He just made them up to rhyme
+with rabbits.”
+
+“A cabbit,” said Laurie, loftily, “is something between a cabbage and a
+carrot.”
+
+“What does it look like?” giggled Polly.
+
+Laurie blinked. “We-ell, you’ve seen a—you’ve seen an artichoke,
+haven’t you?” Polly nodded and Laurie blinked again. “And you’ve seen
+a—a mangel-wurzel?”
+
+“No, I don’t think so.”
+
+“Then I don’t see how I can tell you,” said Laurie, evidently relieved,
+“because a cabbit is more like a mangel-wurzel than anything else. Of
+course, it’s not so deciduous, and the shape is different; it’s more
+obvate than a mangel-wurzel; more—” he swept his hands vaguely in
+air—“more phenomenal.”
+
+“Oh, dry up,” said Ned, grinning. “How’d you like to have to put up with
+an idiot like that all your life, Polly? The worst of it is, folks
+sometimes mistake him for me!”
+
+“Yes, it’s awful, but I manage to bear up under it,” Laurie sighed.
+
+“How did you ever come to think of making those funny rhymes?” Polly
+asked.
+
+“Oh, we had measles once, about four years ago,” said Ned. “We always
+had everything together—measles, whooping-cough, scarlet fever,
+everything. And when we were getting over it they wouldn’t let us read
+and so we made up rhymes. I forget whose idea it was. I’d make up one
+line and Laurie would make up the other, or the other way round. The
+idea was to have the last word of the first line so hard that the other
+fellow couldn’t rhyme to it. But I guess I only stuck Laurie once. Then
+the word was lemon.”
+
+“You didn’t really stick me then,” Laurie denied. “I rhymed it with
+demon. You said they didn’t rhyme, but I showed you a rhyming dictionary
+that said they did.”
+
+“The dictionary said it was an imperfect rhyme, Laurie, and—”
+
+“Just the same, a rhyme’s a rhyme. Say, Ned, remember the one we made up
+about Miss Yetter?” Ned nodded and grinned. “Miss Yetter was our nurse.
+We thought it was pretty clever, but she didn’t like it.
+
+    “When feeling ill send for Miss Yetter.
+    If you don’t die, she’ll make you better.”
+
+“She was quite insulted about it,” laughed Ned, “and told Dad; and he
+tried to lecture us, but we got laughing so he couldn’t. We made rhymes
+all the time for a while and nearly drove folks crazy; and finally Dad
+said if we didn’t stop it he’d whale us. And I said, ‘All right, sir,
+we’ll try not to do it’; and Laurie, the chump, butted in with, ‘’Cause
+if we do, we know we’ll rue it!’ We nearly got the licking right then!”
+
+“You _are_ funny!” laughed Polly. “Is your mother—haven’t you—”
+
+“She died when we were kids,” answered Laurie. “I just remember her, but
+Ned doesn’t.”
+
+“You think you do. You’ve just heard Dad, and nurse talk about her. We
+were only four when Mother died.”
+
+Laurie looked unconvinced, but didn’t argue the matter. Instead he
+asked, “Your father’s dead, isn’t he, Polly?”
+
+“Yes, he died when I was eight. He was a dear, and I missed him just
+terribly. Mother says I look like him. He was very tall and was always
+laughing. Mother says he laughed so much he didn’t have time for
+anything else. She means that he wasn’t—wasn’t very successful. We were
+very poor when he died. But I guess he was lots nicer than he would have
+been if he had just been—successful. I guess the most successful man in
+this town is Mr. Sparks, the banker, and no one has ever seen him laugh
+once. And Uncle Peter was successful, too, I suppose; and he was just as
+sour and ill-tempered as anything. He wasn’t my real uncle, but I called
+him that because Mother said it would please him. It didn’t seem to.”
+
+“Was that Mr. Coventry?” asked Laurie. “The mis—I mean the man who
+lived in the big square house over there?”
+
+“Yes. And I don’t mind your calling him the miser, because that is just
+what he was. He was Mother’s half-brother, but he didn’t act as if he
+was even a quarter-brother! He was always just as horrid as he could be.
+When Father died he wrote Mother to come here and he would provide her
+with a home. And when we came, we found he meant that Mother was to live
+here and pay him rent. She didn’t have enough money to do that, and so
+Uncle Peter made the front of the house into a store and bought some
+things for her and made her sign a mortgage or something. When he died,
+we thought maybe he had left Mother a little; but there wasn’t any will,
+and not much property, either—just the big house on Walnut Street and
+this place and about two thousand dollars. When the property was
+divided, Mother got the other heirs to let her have this as her portion
+of the estate, but she had to pay four hundred and fifty dollars for it.
+That took about all she had saved and more, and so we haven’t been able
+to do much to the house yet.”
+
+“It doesn’t look as if it needed much doing to,” said Ned, critically.
+
+“Oh, but it does! It needs a new coat of paint, for one thing. And some
+of the blinds are broken. And there ought to be a furnace in it. Stoves
+don’t really keep it warm in winter. Some day we’ll fix it up nicely,
+though. As soon as I get through high school, I’m going to work and make
+a lot of money.”
+
+“Attaboy!” approved Ned. “What are you going to do, Polly?”
+
+“I’m learning stenography and typewriting, and Mr. Farmer, the
+lawyer,—he’s the one who got the others to let Mother have the house
+when Uncle Peter’s estate was settled,—says he will find a place for me
+in his office. He’s awfully nice. Some stenographers make lots of money,
+don’t they?”
+
+“I guess so,” Ned agreed. “There’s a woman in Dad’s office who gets
+eighteen dollars a week.”
+
+Polly clasped her hands delightedly. “Maybe I wouldn’t get that much,
+though. I guess Mr. Farmer doesn’t pay his stenographer very high wages.
+Maybe I’d get twelve dollars, though. Don’t you think I might?”
+
+“Sure!” said Laurie. “Don’t you let any one tell you any different.
+Didn’t folks think that your Uncle Peter left more money than was found,
+Polly?”
+
+“Oh, yes; but no one really knew. The lawyers looked everywhere. If he
+did have any more, he must have hidden it away pretty well. They looked
+all through the house and dug holes in the cellar floor. It was very
+exciting. Mother thinks he lost what money he had speculating in stocks
+and things. He used to go to New York about four times a year. No one
+knew what he did there, not even Hilary; but Mother thinks he went to
+see men who deal in stocks and that they got his money away from him.”
+
+“Who is Hilary?” Laurie inquired.
+
+“Hilary was a colored man that Uncle had had a long time. It seemed to
+me that if Uncle had had much money, Hilary would have known about it;
+and he didn’t.”
+
+“Where is he now? Hilary, I mean,” added Laurie, somewhat unnecessarily.
+
+“I don’t know. He went away a little while after Uncle Peter died. He
+said he was going to New York, I think.”
+
+“You don’t suppose he took the money with him, do you? I mean—”
+
+“Oh no!” Polly seemed quite horrified. “Hilary was just as honest as
+honest! Why, Uncle Peter died owing him almost forty dollars and Hilary
+never got a cent of it! The lawyers were too mean for anything!”
+
+“There’s a fellow named Starling living there now,” Laurie said. “His
+father’s rented the house for three years. Bob says that he’s going to
+find the money and give it to your mother.”
+
+Polly laughed. “Oh, I wish that he would! But I guess if the lawyers
+couldn’t find it he never will. Lawyers, they say, can find money when
+nobody else can! Is he nice?”
+
+“Bob? Yes, he’s a dandy chap. You ought to know him, Polly; he’s your
+next-door neighbor.”
+
+“Back-door neighbor, you mean,” interpolated Ned.
+
+“I think I saw him in the garden one day,” said Polly. “His father is an
+engineer, Mae Ferrand says, and he’s building a big bridge for the
+railway. Or maybe it’s a tunnel. I forget.”
+
+“Is Mae Something the girl with the molasses-candy hair you were with at
+the high school game?” Laurie asked.
+
+“Yes, but her hair isn’t like molasses candy. It’s perfectly lovely
+hair. It’s like—like diluted sunshine!”
+
+Laurie whistled. “Gee! Did you get that, Neddie? Well, anyway, I like
+dark hair better.”
+
+“Oh, I don’t! I’d love to have hair like Mae’s. And, what do you think,
+she likes my hair better than her own!”
+
+“Don’t blame her,” said Laurie. “What do you say, Ned?”
+
+“I say I’ve got to beat it back and get into football togs. What time is
+it?”
+
+“Look at your own watch, you lazy loafer. Well, come on. I say, Polly,
+would your mother let you go to the game with me Saturday? That is, if
+you want to, of course.”
+
+“Oh, I’d love to! But—I’ll ask her, anyway. And if she says I may,
+would you mind if Mae went too? We usually go together to the games.”
+
+“Not a bit. I’ll be around again before Saturday and see what she says.”
+
+“I wouldn’t be surprised if she said yes,” remarked Polly. “I think she
+must like you boys. Anyway, you’re the first of the Hillman’s boys she
+has ever let me invite out here.”
+
+“Really? Bully for her! Wait till I say farewell to Antoinette, ‘most
+beauteous of rabbits!’ What does she twitch her nose like that for?”
+
+“I think she’s asking for some cabbits,” replied Polly, gravely.
+
+“She’s making faces at you, you chump,” said Ned, rudely. “Come on.”
+They returned through the little living-room, empty save for a big black
+cat asleep in a rocking-chair, and found Mrs. Deane serving the first of
+the afternoon trade in the shop beyond. They said good afternoon to her
+very politely, and Polly went to the door with them. Outside on the
+walk, Ned nudged Laurie, and they paused side by side and gravely
+removed their caps.
+
+“We give you thanks and say farewell, Miss Polly.”
+
+“The visit’s been, indeed, most jolly!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI—NED SPEAKS OUT
+
+
+There was a cut in the football squad that afternoon and more than a
+dozen candidates were retired, leaving twenty-eight players for the
+first and scrub teams. Ned survived, as, indeed, he expected to; for,
+while he knew his limitations, neither the coach nor the captain
+appeared to. Perhaps they were sometimes puzzled over flashes of
+ineptitude, or perhaps they put them down to temporary reversals of
+form; at least, Ned’s talent was never seriously questioned by them. He
+had settled down as a regular half-back on the scrub eleven, although
+twice he had been called on in practice scrimmages to take Mason’s place
+at left half on the first squad. He was too light to make much headway
+in bucking plays, and his inability to start quickly handicapped him
+frequently in running; but as a kicker he was dependable and had
+developed a quite remarkable accuracy at forward passing. Against a
+light opponent or a slow one he could be counted on to play a fairly
+good game, although so far he had not been allowed the opportunity. With
+him on the scrub team was Hop Kendrick at quarter, and, for a time,
+Kewpie at center. But Kewpie had trained down at last to a hundred and
+sixty-five pounds and was handling his weight and bulk with a new
+snappiness, and a few days after Ned became a part of the scrub outfit
+Kewpie was elevated to the first team, and a much disgruntled Holmes
+took his place on the second.
+
+With the defeat of Wagner School, Hillman’s ended her preliminary
+season. In that contest, played at home, the Blue showed a new
+aggressiveness and much more speed; and, while she was able to score
+only one touch-down, and Pope failed miserably at goal, every one was
+well satisfied. Wagner had a strong team, and a victory over it was no
+small triumph. Hillman’s line held splendidly under the battering-ram
+tactics of the adversary, and her backs were fast and shifty. On attack,
+the Blue failed to gain consistently; but in the third period, with a
+captured fumble on Wagner’s thirty-three yards for encouragement, Pope
+got free for half the distance, and Slavin and Mason, alternating,
+worked the enemy’s left side until the ball lay on the five-yard line.
+Then a fake attack on Wagner’s right, with Pope carrying the ball
+through on the left of center, brought the only score of the day. Kewpie
+proved himself that afternoon, for he was a veritable Rock of Gibraltar
+on defense and a hundred and sixty-five pounds of steel springs on
+attack. The Blue team was far from a perfect machine yet, but it seemed
+that Mulford had found his parts and that only a generous oiling was
+needed.
+
+Laurie and George Watson escorted Polly and Mae Ferrand to the game,
+and, although aware of the covert grins and whispered witticisms of
+acquaintances, enjoyed themselves hugely. Mae proved to be a very jolly,
+wholesome sort of girl, and her knowledge of what may be termed “inside
+football” was stupendous and made both Laurie and George rather ashamed
+of their ignorance. Between the halves, Ned, arrayed in a trailing gray
+blanket, joined them and promptly became involved with Mae in a very
+technical argument that no one else could follow. From the fact that Ned
+retired with a rather dispirited expression when the teams came on
+again, Laurie surmised that the honors had gone to Mae.
+
+The following Monday evening, while the enthusiasm produced by the
+victory over Wagner School was still undiminished, a second mass-meeting
+was held in the auditorium to devise means of replenishing the football
+treasury: Three of the remaining five games were to be played away from
+Orstead, and in two cases the distance to be traveled was considerable
+and the expenses consequently large. As Joe Stevenson said, introducing
+the subject for discussion, if Hillman’s charged admission to her home
+games, it would be possible to get through a season without asking for
+assistance from the student body. “But you fellows know that that isn’t
+the school policy. We are allowed to sell tickets for the Farview game
+only, and, while we make about four hundred and fifty dollars as our
+share, that doesn’t go very far against the season’s outlay. We have to
+pay from seventy-five to a hundred and twenty-five dollars to every team
+that comes here to play us. When we go away we seldom make enough to pay
+our expenses. In the Highland game, because it cost us almost nothing
+for fares, we did. At the present moment we have a cash balance on hand
+of forty-three dollars, and our liabilities, including Mr. Mulford’s
+salary for the remainder of the season, are about eight hundred dollars.
+
+“The manager estimates that we’ll have to incur added expenses for about
+a hundred and twenty dollars for Farview game tickets and new supplies.
+In short, we shall have to pay out, before the season ends, about nine
+hundred dollars. Against that we have on hand forty-three dollars, and
+in prospect something like five hundred, leaving us about three hundred
+and fifty in the hole.
+
+“There has been talk of cutting out the Lansing and Whittier games, but
+that wouldn’t make enough difference. Besides, it would give us a black
+eye to cancel games as late as this. We might save perhaps seventy
+dollars if we did, but it would cost us ten times that in public
+estimation. As far as I can see, fellows, if we’re going to have a
+football team, we’ve got to pay for it. We’ve asked permission to charge
+admission, even a nominal one, to all games, but the faculty is against
+it. And we have asked to have a regular assessment made against each
+student. To many of us that would seem the fairer and most satisfactory
+way of meeting the emergency. But the faculty doesn’t like that any
+better than the other proposition. So I guess it’s up to us, each and
+every one of us, to dig down and produce the coin.
+
+“We need three hundred and fifty dollars at least. That means that every
+fellow in school must pony up four dollars, or, rather, that the average
+must be four dollars each. Some of you can’t give so much, probably, and
+a few can give more. I’d like to hear from you, please. Don’t be afraid
+to say what you think. We want to get together on this matter and thrash
+it out, if it takes until ten o’clock. Any one who has any suggestion to
+offer or anything to say will be heard. Come on, somebody!”
+
+There were plenty of speakers: Dave Brewster, the baseball captain, Dan
+Whipple, senior class president, Lew Cooper, upper middle class
+president, Dave Murray, the manager of the team, Craig Jones, for the
+lower middlers, and many others, Some subscribed to the donation scheme,
+others opposed it. Cooper suggested an appeal to the school alumni.
+Brewster pointed out that the effort would cost money and that the
+result would be uncertain and, in any case, slow. An increase in the
+price of tickets to the Farview game was discussed and the idea
+abandoned. An hour passed and the meeting was getting nowhere. Some of
+the younger boys had already withdrawn. A tall, lantern-jawed youth had
+charged the football committee with extravagance, and Dave Murray had
+bitterly resented the allegation. Ned, who, with Laurie and Lee Murdock,
+was seated near the back of the hall, had shown signs of restiveness for
+some time and had been muttering to himself. Now, to the surprise of his
+companions, he jumped to his feet and demanded recognition:
+
+“Mr. Chairman!”
+
+“Mister—” Dan Whipple pointed a finger at Ned and nodded.
+
+“Turner,” prompted Kewpie from a front seat.
+
+“Mr. Turner,” encouraged the chairman.
+
+“I’d like to say that I never heard so much talking and saw so little
+action,” began Ned, impatiently. “What’s the matter with some one saying
+something useful instead of just chewing the rag?”
+
+“You tell ’em,” piped a small junior, above the applause and laughter.
+
+“All right! I’ll tell you fellows that you’re a lot of pikers to
+hesitate to pledge three or four hundred dollars to keep your team
+going. Where I come from we had to have a new grand stand two years ago,
+and we called a meeting like this and we raised seven hundred dollars in
+thirty-five minutes in cash and pledges. There were a lot more of us,
+but half of us would have felt like Rockefellers if we’d ever found a
+whole half-dollar in our pockets! Some of us gave as high as five
+dollars, but not many. Most of us pledged two dollars; and those who
+didn’t have two dollars went out and worked until they’d made it, by
+jingo! And we got our grand stand up inside of two weeks, in time for
+the big baseball game.”
+
+There was real applause this time, and those in the front of the hall
+had swung around to have a look at the earnest youth who was calling
+them names.
+
+“That’s one way of getting the money,” continued Ned, warming up finely,
+“but there’s another. Out my way—”
+
+“Say, where do you come from?” called some one.
+
+“I come from California,” answered Ned, proudly. “Maybe you’ve heard of
+it!”
+
+“Attaboy!” shouted Kewpie. “Swing your leg, Nid!”
+
+“When we want to raise some money out there and folks are too stingy to
+give it outright, we take it away from them another way. We get up a
+fête. We give them a good time and they pay for it. Why not try it here?
+I don’t know how many folks there are in this burg, but I reckon there
+are enough to part with three or four hundred dollars. Give them an
+excuse to spend their money and they’ll spend it!”
+
+Ned sat down amid loud applause, and Dave Brewster was recognized,
+although half a dozen others were clamoring for speech.
+
+“Turner’s said something, fellows,” declared Brewster. “The idea’s worth
+considering. We’ve never tackled the town folks for money, and there’s
+no reason why they shouldn’t come across. They’ve come to our games for
+years without paying a cent, except for the Farview game, and it
+wouldn’t hurt them to give a little to a good cause. I don’t know what
+sort of a fête Turner has in mind, but I should think we might get up
+something that would do the business.”
+
+“Mr. Chairman,” said Kewpie, “I move that a committee of three be
+appointed by the chair, to include Nid,—I mean Mr. Turner,—to consider
+the—the matter of giving a fête to raise the money.”
+
+“Seconded!”
+
+“You have heard the motion,” droned Whipple. “All those in favor will so
+signify by saying ‘Aye.’ Contrary, ‘No.’ Moved and carried. I will
+appoint the presidents of the senior and upper middle classes and Mr.
+Turner to the committee, three in all. Is it the sense of this meeting
+that your committee is to report to it at a subsequent meeting, or is it
+to have authority to proceed with the matter if it decides that the
+scheme is a good one?”
+
+“Full authority, Mr. Chairman!” “Let ’em go ahead with it!” “Sure!
+That’s what we want. Let’s have action!”
+
+“Is there any other business? Then I declare the meeting adjourned!”
+
+Whipple captured Ned on the way out. “We’d better get together right
+away on this, Turner,” he said. “Can you meet Cooper and me at my room
+to-morrow at twelve?”
+
+Ned agreed, and he and Laurie and Lee went on. “What I’d like to know,”
+remarked Laurie, after a moment’s silence, “is how you’re going to have
+a fête in a place like this. The weather’s too cold for it.”
+
+“Maybe it will be warmer,” answered Ned, cheerfully. “Besides, we don’t
+have to have it outdoors.”
+
+“It wouldn’t be a fête if you didn’t,” sniffed the other.
+
+“Well, what’s the difference? Call it anything you like. The big thing
+is to get the money.”
+
+“You had your cheek with you to talk the way you did,” chuckled Laurie.
+
+“He talked sense, though,” asserted Lee, warmly.
+
+“Of course. The Turners always do.” Laurie steered Ned toward the
+entrance of East Hall. “Well, good night, Lee. See you at the fête!”
+
+Upstairs, Ned tossed his cap to the bed, plumped himself into a chair at
+the table, and drew paper and pencil to him. “Now,” he said, “let’s
+figure this out. I’ve got to talk turkey to those fellows to-morrow.
+What’s your idea, partner?”
+
+“Hey, where do you get that stuff?” demanded Laurie. “Why drag me into
+it? It’s not my fête. I don’t own it.”
+
+“Shut up and sit down there before I punch your head. You’ve got to help
+with this. The honor of the Turners is at stake!”
+
+So Laurie subsided and for more than an hour he and Ned racked their
+brains and gradually the plan took shape.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII—THE COMMITTEE ON ARRANGEMENTS
+
+
+“It’s like this,” explained Ned. He and Laurie and Polly and Mae Ferrand
+were in the little garden behind the shop. The girls were on the bench
+and the boys were seated on the turf before the arbor, their knees
+encircled with their arms. A few yards away Antoinette eyed them gravely
+and twitched her nose. On the porch step, Towser, the big black cat,
+blinked benignly, sometimes shifting his gaze to the branches of the
+maple in the next yard, where an impudent black-and-white woodpecker was
+seeking a late luncheon.
+
+“There are two sub-committees,” continued Ned, earnestly. “Whipple and
+Cooper are the Committee on Finance and Publicity, and Laurie and I are
+the Committee on Arrangements. I told them I had to have help and so
+they took Laurie in.”
+
+“No thanks to you,” grumbled Laurie, who was, however, secretly much
+pleased.
+
+“It’s going to be next Saturday afternoon and evening, and this is
+Tuesday, and so there isn’t much time. We were afraid to make it any
+later because the weather might get too cold. Besides, the team needs
+the money right off. I looked in an almanac and it said that next
+Saturday would be fair and warm, so that’s all right.”
+
+“But don’t you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?” asked Polly. “I
+know ours does. When we had our high-school picnic, the almanac said
+‘showers’ and it was a perfectly gorgeous day. I carried my mackintosh
+around all day and it was a perfect nuisance. Don’t you remember, Mae?”
+
+“Well, you’ve got to believe in something,” declared Ned. “Anyway, we’re
+going to have it at Bob Starling’s, and if it’s too cold outdoors, we’ll
+move inside.”
+
+“You mean at Uncle Peter’s?” exclaimed Polly.
+
+“Yes. We thought of having it at school first, but Mr. Hillman didn’t
+like it much; and besides, the fellows would be inside without having to
+pay to get there! You see, it’s going to cost every one a quarter just
+to get in.”
+
+“And how much to get out?” asked Mae, innocently.
+
+Ned grinned. “As much as we can get away from them. There’ll be twelve
+booths to sell things in—”
+
+“What sort of things?” Polly inquired.
+
+“All sorts. Eats and drinks and everything. We’re getting the
+storekeepers to donate things. So far they’ve just given us things that
+they haven’t been able to sell, a pile of junk; but we’re going to stop
+that. Biddle, the hardware man, gave us a dozen cheap pocket-knives, but
+he’s got to come across again. We’ve been to only eight of them so far,
+but we haven’t done so worse. Guess we’ve got enough truck for one booth
+already. And then there’ll be one of them for a rummage sale. We’re
+going to get each of the fellows to give us something for that, and I’ll
+bet we’ll have a fine lot of truck. Each booth will represent a college
+and be decorated in the proper colors: Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and so
+on. And—and now it’s your turn, Laurie.”
+
+“Yes, I notice that I always have to do the dirty work,” said the other.
+He hugged his knees tighter, rolled over on his back for inspiration,
+and, when he again faced his audience on the bench, smiled his nicest.
+“Here’s where you girls come in,” he announced. “We want you two to take
+two of the booths and get a girl for each of the others. Want to?”
+
+“Oh, it would be darling!” cried Polly.
+
+“I’d love to!” said Mae.
+
+“Only—”
+
+“Only—”
+
+“Only what!” asked Ned, as the girls viewed each other doubtfully.
+
+“I’m not sure Mother would let me,” sighed Polly. “Do you think she
+would, Mae?”
+
+“I don’t believe so. And I don’t believe Mama would let me. She—she’s
+awfully particular that way.”
+
+“Gee!” said Ned, in disappointed tones, “I don’t see why not! It isn’t
+as if—”
+
+“Of course it isn’t,” agreed Laurie. “Besides, your mothers would be
+there too!”
+
+“Would they?” asked Mae, uncertainly.
+
+“Of course! Every one’s coming! What harm would there be in it? You can
+do things for—for charity that you can’t do any other time! All you’d
+have to do would be to just stand behind the booth and sell things. It
+won’t be hard. Everything will have the price marked on it and—”
+
+“You won’t need to go by the prices always, though,” interpolated Ned.
+“I mean, if you can get more than the thing is marked, you’d better do
+it! And then there’s the—the costumes, Laurie.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I forgot. We’d like each girl to sort of wear something that
+would sort of match the college she represented—sort of,” he explained
+apologetically. “If you had the Yale booth, you could wear a dark-blue
+waist, and so on. Do you think that would be possible?”
+
+Polly giggled. “We might ask Stella Hatch to take the Harvard booth,
+Mae. With her hair, she wouldn’t have to dress much!”
+
+“And you and Polly could take your first pick,” observed Laurie,
+craftily. “You’d look swell as—as Dartmouth, Mae!”
+
+“In _green_! My gracious, Ned! No, thank you! But Polly ought to be
+Yale. She looks lovely in blue. I think I’d like to be Cornell. My
+brother Harry’s in Cornell.”
+
+“All right,” agreed Ned. “I wish you’d ask your mothers soon, will you?
+Do try, because we’ve just got to get girls for the booths. You’d have
+lots of fun, too. The Banjo and Mandolin Club is going to play for
+dancing for an hour at five and nine, and there’ll be an entertainment,
+too.”
+
+“What sort?” asked Polly.
+
+“We don’t know yet. Some of the gymnastic team will do stunts, I think,
+for one thing, and there’ll be singing and maybe Laurie will do some
+rope-swinging—”
+
+“I told you a dozen times I wouldn’t! Besides, I haven’t any rope.”
+
+“We can find one, probably,” replied his brother, untroubled. “We
+haven’t settled about the entertainment yet. And there are two or three
+other things we haven’t got to. Starling’s going to have his garden all
+fixed up, and he’s going to cover the old arbor with branches and hang
+Chinese lanterns in it and have little tables and chairs there for folks
+to sit down and eat ice-cream and cake.
+
+“And that reminds me, Polly. Do you suppose that Miss Comfort would make
+some cakes for us?”
+
+“Why, yes, Nid, but—but you’d have to _buy_ them. I don’t think you
+ought to expect her to _donate_ them.”
+
+“We meant to buy them, of course, Polly. And we wondered if your mother
+would make some of those dandy cream-puffs.”
+
+“I’m sure she will. How many would you want?”
+
+“I don’t know. You see, there’s no way of telling how many will come.
+There are three thousand people in Orstead, but that doesn’t mean much,
+does it? The ‘Messenger’ editor’s agreed to put in an advertisement for
+us for nothing, and there’ll be notices all around town in the windows:
+we got the man who prints the school monthly to do them for just the
+cost of the paper. So folks ought to come, shouldn’t you think?”
+
+“Oh, I’m sure they will!” agreed Polly, and Mae echoed her. “But it’ll
+be dreadfully hard to know how much cake and ice-cream and refreshments
+to order, won’t it?”
+
+“Fierce,” agreed Ned. “I suppose the best way will be to reckon on, say,
+three hundred and order that much stuff. Only, how do you tell how much
+three hundred will eat?”
+
+“Why, you can’t! Besides, Nid, three hundred people would only bring in
+seventy-five dollars!”
+
+“In admissions, yes; but we’ve got to make them buy things when we get
+them in there. If every one spent a dollar inside—”
+
+“But lots of them won’t. Do you think they will, Mae?”
+
+Mae shook her head. “No, I don’t. Lots and lots will just come out of
+curiosity and won’t spend a cent. I know, boys, because that’s the way
+they act at the fairs here.”
+
+Ned kicked at the turf gloomily. “Gee, that’s fierce!” he muttered.
+
+“Well, we’d ought to get more than three hundred folks,” said Laurie.
+“Remember, it’s to be afternoon and evening too. I’ll bet there’ll be
+nearer six hundred than three.”
+
+Ned brightened. “That’s so. And six hundred, even if they only averaged
+fifty cents apiece, would be three hundred dollars. And I guess if we
+can make three hundred, we can dig up the other fifty! Well, we’ve got
+to get busy, Laurie. I got them to give me a cut from practice this
+afternoon and I’ll have to make the most of my time,” he explained to
+the girls.
+
+“Oh! And did they let you off, too, Nod?” asked Polly.
+
+“No, we’re through with baseball,” Laurie answered. “No more till
+spring. I’m just fairly broken-hearted!”
+
+“When will you know about helping us, Polly?” Ned asked.
+
+[Illustration: “But don’t you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?”
+asked Polly]
+
+“I’ll ask Mother right away; and you’ll ask, too, won’t you, Mae? Can
+you stop in this evening? I do hope it’ll be all right!”
+
+“So do we!” said Ned and Laurie, in a breath. “Rather!”
+
+And the Committee on Arrangements hurried away.
+
+That night the committee met again in Dan Whipple’s room in West Hall
+and satisfactory progress was reported all along the line. Ned read a
+list of donations from the town merchants, and announced that twelve
+young ladies from the high school would be on hand, appropriately
+attired, to take charge of the booths. Lew Cooper showed proofs of the
+poster that was to be displayed in windows and tacked on posts and
+fences, and of the four-inch, double-column advertisement to appear in
+the “Messenger.” Dan reported that Mr. Wells, the physical director, had
+promised to see that the best six members of the gymnastic team should
+exhibit afternoon and evening.
+
+“That means, though,” he said, “that we’ll have to have some kind of a
+platform. Better make a note of that, Lew.”
+
+“Platforms cost money,” answered Lew, dubiously. “Maybe we can
+borrow—I’ll tell you what! There’s one stored over in the field-house,
+one they use to set the dressing-tent on. It’s in two
+pieces,—sections,—but I guess it’s big enough. We’ll see if we can’t
+get the use of it.”
+
+“Good! Better ask Mr. Wells, Say, Hal, did you see Norris?”
+
+Hal Pringle was Dan’s room-mate, and, while he was usually present at
+the meetings, he was careful to keep himself in the background unless
+called on for advice. Now he looked up from his book and nodded. “Yes,
+it ’a all right. They’ll play for an hour in the afternoon and an hour
+at night. I had to promise them eats, though.”
+
+“Of course. Much obliged. Speaking of eats, fellows, what’s been done
+about the refreshments?”
+
+“Nothing yet,” answered Ned. “I wanted to talk that over. How many
+sandwiches and how much salad will we want? And how many gallons of
+ice-cream and—”
+
+“Whoa!” begged Dan. “Blessed if I know! How the dickens are we going to
+know how much food will be needed? What’s the rule about it? Or isn’t
+there any?”
+
+“Depends on how many will attend the show,” said Lew. “Find that out—”
+
+“How’re we going to find it out, you chump? How many do you suppose we
+can count on, Ned?”
+
+“Maybe six hundred,” was the answer. “But if it should rain—”
+
+“There you are! If it rained, we mightn’t get two hundred! I’ll say
+that’s a problem. We’d be in a fine fix if we found ourselves with two
+or three freezers of ice-cream on our hands and a lot of other truck.
+Look here, Tabby might know. Suppose you ask her, Ned. We’ve got to have
+enough and not too much.”
+
+“It’ll be all right about the ice-cream,” said Laurie. “The man said we
+could return what we didn’t open if we got it back that night so he
+could pack it over. But the other things—”
+
+“You talk to Tabby in the morning,” repeated Dan. “She’ll know if any
+one does. Now what else? What about the entertainment part of it, Mr.
+Chairman of the Committee on Arrangements? What have you got in mind
+besides the gymnastics?”
+
+“We thought we might find some one who could sing or dance. But we don’t
+know many of the fellows.”
+
+“Bully! There’s Cheesman, Lew. He’s a corker. And Kewpie isn’t so bad.
+He sings a funny song mighty well.”
+
+“He couldn’t sing it in the afternoon, though, Dan: he’d be at the
+field.”
+
+“That’s so! still, the game ought to be finished by four. We wouldn’t
+have the entertainment part until late, would we?”
+
+“About four, I thought,” said Ned, “but Kewpie could come last. I’ll put
+him down, anyway.”
+
+“Anything else besides songs?” asked Dan.
+
+“Yes, only-” Ned dropped his voice and glanced at Pringle—“only it’s
+got to be kept a secret to make good.”
+
+“Oh, Hal’s all right. He’s a sort of ex-officio member of the committee.
+Shoot, Ned!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII—NED GETS INTO THE GAME
+
+
+Four hectic days followed. To Laurie, since Ned was held for two hours
+each afternoon at the football field, fell most of the duties of the
+Committee on Arrangements, and he was a very busy youth. He badgered
+shopkeepers into parting with goods to be sold at the booths, helped Bob
+Starling trim up the old arbor in the garden of the Coventry place, made
+frequent trips to the Or stead caterer’s, engaged eight cakes from Miss
+Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from the Widow Deane, spent two
+hours Wednesday helping Lew and Hal Pringle distribute posters
+throughout the village, and attended to a hundred other matters
+between-times. Of course, Ned aided when he could, and was helpful with
+advice and unfailing in suggestions; but recitations and football
+practice didn’t leave him much time, even though he conscientiously
+arose a full hour earlier every morning that week, and skimped studying
+so much that he got in trouble with three instructors in one day!
+
+Miss Tabitha had proved as helpful as Dan Whipple had predicted. She had
+shaken her head at the idea of entertaining six hundred at the fête.
+“You mustn’t count on more than half that many,” she said. “I dare say
+all the boys will go, and they’ll make ninety. Then, if you get two
+hundred of the townsfolk, you’ll be doing very nicely. Don’t decide how
+much salad or how many sandwiches you want until Saturday morning. So
+much will depend on the weather. Even if you hold the affair indoors,
+lots of folks won’t come if it rains. You say you’ve ordered eight cakes
+from Martha Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from Mrs. Deane?”
+
+“Yes’m,” said Ned. “We wanted Mrs. Deane to make more, but she didn’t
+think she could.”
+
+“Well, that’s a hundred and fourty-four cream-puffs, and—let me
+see—one of Miss Comfort’s cakes will cut into sixteen pieces, and eight
+times sixteen—”
+
+“A hundred and twenty-eight, ma’am.”
+
+“Well, and a hundred and twenty-eight and a hundred and forty-four—”
+
+“Two hundred and seventy-two.”
+
+“You’re real quick at figures, aren’t you? Seems as if, though, counting
+on three hundred, you’d be a little short. I’ll have Aunt Persis make
+one of her marble-cakes. That’ll help out, I guess.”
+
+“Yes’m; thanks awfully,” answered Ned.
+
+“Who is going to serve the refreshments?”
+
+“Why—why—” Ned’s face fell. “I guess we hadn’t thought of that!”
+
+“Well, it makes a heap of difference, because you can make a quart of
+ice-cream serve ten people or twenty, just as you’ve a mind to. I
+usually count on sixteen. Same way with a loaf of cake, and same way
+with salad. It’s awfully easy to waste salad when you’re serving it.
+Now, if you’d like me to, Ned, I’ll attend to serving everything for
+you. You just have the things set down there and I’ll look after them.”
+
+“Oh, Miss Hillman, if you would! Gee, that would be great! It—it’ll be
+a lot of trouble, though, ma’am.”
+
+“Well, I guess it won’t be the first trouble I’ve seen,” replied Miss
+Tabitha, dryly; “nor it won’t be the last!”
+
+Thursday afternoon Laurie hurried over to the Coventry place as soon as
+a two-o’clock recitation was done. Bob was awaiting him at the gate, and
+conducted him around to the back of the big square house. Ned stared in
+surprise. The tangle of trees and vines and shrubbery had been trimmed
+to orderly neatness, the long, unkempt grass had been shorn to a yellow,
+but respectable, turf, and the old arbor showed new strips where Thomas,
+the Starlings’ man, had been at work on the decrepit frame. Near at hand
+lay piles of cedar and hemlock branches.
+
+“Dad got a couple of the men to cut those down near the tunnel and haul
+them up here.” Bob explained. “Thomas is going to help us put them up.
+He made a peachy job of the garden, didn’t he?”
+
+“You bet!” responded Laurie, heartily. “I wouldn’t have known the place!
+I say, Bob, this arbor’s longer than I thought it was.”
+
+“Forty feet, about. Why?”
+
+“I only ordered six tables and a dozen chairs from the caterer,”
+answered Laurie, dubiously. “Guess they aren’t enough; but he’s charging
+twenty-five cents apiece for them—”
+
+“Twenty-five cents for a table? Isn’t that dirt-cheap?”
+
+“We’re only renting them, you idiot!”
+
+“Oh, I see. Well, six is enough, I guess; you don’t want to crowd them.
+Now let’s get busy with the green stuff. I’ll yell down cellar for
+Thomas. There’s a ball of twine, and I’ve got two hammers and a lot of
+tacks on the side porch. You take your coat off and I’ll—”
+
+“We’ll have to have a step-ladder, Bob!”
+
+“There’s a short ladder right beside you. Be right back.”
+
+Laurie sat down on a wheelbarrow, after removing his coat and folding
+back the sleeves of his shirt, and looked around him. The garden was
+fairly large—larger in appearance since the clutter of shrubbery along
+the sides had been cleared away. Along the School Park edge ran a tall
+hedge of lilac bushes. At the back was the high board fence, painted
+dark brown, that separated the garden from the Widow Deane’s humble
+property. On the other side was a rusty ornamental iron fence, mostly
+hidden by vines. Broad walks, in spite of Thomas’s efforts rather
+overrun with weeds, surrounded the central plot of ancient turf, and
+another ran straight down the middle of the garden, connecting with the
+arbor. Wires were to be strung from the trees and across to the arbor,
+and Chinese lanterns hung thereon. Laurie, half closing his eyes, sought
+to visualize the place as it would appear on Saturday. He did want the
+affair to be a success, both financial and artistic, both on account of
+the school and—well, for the honor of the Turners! While he was musing,
+two things happened simultaneously: Bob and Thomas appeared from the
+house, and a familiar voice came to him from the opposite direction.
+
+“Nod!” called the voice. “Nod, will you please come here a moment?”
+
+Laurie’s eyes sought the board fence. Over the top of it appeared the
+head and shoulders of Polly. He left the wheelbarrow and hurried through
+the arbor and down the walk beyond. Polly’s face indicated distress,
+whether mental or physical Laurie couldn’t determine. But Polly’s first
+words explained.
+
+“I can’t stay here l-long,” she said. “I—I’m just hanging by my elbows.
+I cl-climbed up on a board, and it’s fallen down!”
+
+“I’ll get you a ladder!” cried Laurie, gallantly.
+
+“N-no, never mind. I’m going to drop in a s-second. I just want to ask
+you what Brown’s color is. Nettie Blanchard is going to be Brown and—”
+
+“Why, brown, of course!”
+
+“Oh!” There was the sound of desperate scraping against the farther side
+of the fence, and Polly’s countenance became fairly convulsed with the
+effort of holding herself in sight. “Oh! She said it was pur-pur—”
+
+Polly disappeared. There was a thud from the next yard.
+
+“Purple!” The word floated across to him, muffled but triumphant.
+
+“Are you hurt, Polly?” he called anxiously.
+
+“Not a bit,” was the rueful response, “but I’m afraid the day-lilies
+are!” Then she laughed merrily. “Thanks, Nod! I didn’t think Nettie was
+right. She loves purple, you see!”
+
+“Does she? Well, say, maybe she can be Williams. We weren’t going to
+have Williams, but its color is purple, I think, and if she is going to
+be disappointed—”
+
+“She will look very well indeed in brown,” came from the other side in
+judicial tones; “and if we begin making changes, half the girls will
+want to be something they aren’t. Why, Pearl Fayles begged to be some
+girls’ college neither Mae nor I had ever heard of, just so she could
+wear lavender and pale lemon!”
+
+“Well, all right,” laughed Laurie. “She’d better stick to Brown—and
+brown! Good-by, Polly. I’ll drop in after a while and find out how
+things are getting on.”
+
+He turned to find Bob viewing him quizzically from the end of the arbor,
+swinging a hammer in each hand. “Of course it’s all right, I dare say,”
+he announced, “but I _thought_ you came here to fix up the arbor.
+Instead of that I find you talking to girls over the fence!”
+
+“There’s only one girl,” replied Laurie, with dignity, “and we were
+talking business.”
+
+“Oh, of course! Sorry I interrupted.”
+
+“You needn’t be, and you didn’t. Quit grinning like a simpleton and give
+me a hammer!”
+
+“Right-o! Come on, Thomas! It’s quite all right now!”
+
+An hour later their task was done, and well done, and they viewed it
+with approval. To be honest, the major part of the work had been
+performed by the faithful Thomas, although it is not to be denied that
+both Laurie and Bob toiled conscientiously. Before they were through
+approving the result from various angles, Bob’s father joined them. Mr.
+Starling was an older edition of Bob—a tall, straight, lean-visaged man
+of forty-two or -three, with the complexion of one who had lived an
+outdoor life. He had a deep, pleasant voice and a quiet manner not fully
+in accord with a pair of keen eyes and a firm mouth.
+
+“I’d call that a good piece of work, boys,” he said, as he joined them.
+“And right up to specifications, too. Those paper lanterns come yet,
+Bob?”
+
+“No, sir; I haven’t seen them.”
+
+“Lanterns, Mr. Starling?” asked Laurie. “Do you mean Chinese lanterns?
+We’ve ordered a lot from the caterer, sir.”
+
+“Tell him you won’t need them, then. I’ve got a hundred coming up from
+the city, Turner. They ought to be here, too. Thomas, call up the
+express company and ask about them.”
+
+“That’s very kind, sir,” said Laurie, “but you needn’t have done it.
+You—you’re doing _everything_!”
+
+“Nonsense! Bob and I want to do our part, of course. Well, this
+wilderness certainly looks different, doesn’t it? That reminds me, Bob;
+the agent writes me that we may ‘make such improvements to the property
+as we desire.’ So, as I consider the absence of that arbor an
+improvement, I guess you can pull it down any time you like. I’m going
+to have a cup of tea, Turner. Will you join me? I believe there will be
+cakes, too.”
+
+Laurie found Ned in rather a low frame of mind when he got back to
+Number 16 a half-hour before supper-time. Ned was hunched over a Latin
+book and each hand held a firm grip on his hair. At Laurie’s arrival he
+merely grunted.
+
+“Where does it pain you most?” asked Laurie, solicitously, subsiding
+into a chair with a weary sigh. Ned’s mood was far from flippant. He
+rewarded the other with a scowl, and bent his gaze on the book again.
+“Want to hear the latest news from the front?” persisted Laurie.
+
+“No, I don’t!” his brother growled. “I’ve had all the news I can stand.
+Smug says that if I don’t get this rotten stuff by nine to-night, and
+make a perfect showing to-morrow, he will can me!”
+
+“Mr. Cornish said that?” gasped Laurie. “What do you know about that?
+Why, I thought he was a gentleman!”
+
+“He’s a—a brute! I can’t learn the old stuff! And I have a hunch that
+Mulford means to give me a try in the Loring game Saturday. And if I
+don’t get this, Cornish will fix it so I can’t play. He as good as said
+so.”
+
+“Didn’t you tell him you’d been busy with the fête and everything?”
+
+“Of course I did. Much he cared! Just made a rotten pun. Said I’d better
+keep my own fate in mind. Puns are fearfully low and vulgar!”
+
+“Aren’t they? How much of that have you got?”
+
+“Six pages. I—I’ve sort of neglected it the last two days. Some fellows
+can fake through, but I don’t have any luck. He’s always picking on me.”
+
+Laurie whistled expressively. “Six pages! Well, never say die, partner.
+We’ll get down to supper early, and that’ll give us two hours before
+nine.”
+
+“Us?” questioned Ned, hopefully.
+
+“Sure. I’ll give you a hand. As the well-known proverb so wisely
+remarks, two heads are the shortest way home.”
+
+Ned grinned, and stopped tormenting his hair. “Honest? That’s mighty
+decent, Laurie. I’ll do as much for you some day.”
+
+“Hope you won’t have to. Wash your dirty face and let’s beat it!”
+
+At half-past nine a more cheerful and much relieved Ned returned from
+the hall master’s study. “All right,” he announced to an anxious Laurie.
+“He was rather decent, too. Said he guessed that, in view of the
+manifold affairs engaging my attention just now,—you know the crazy way
+he talks,—he wouldn’t demand too much from me. Reckon he means to let
+me down easy to-morrow, eh?”
+
+“Maybe, partner, and maybe not. Take my advice and, in the words of the
+Scouts, be prepared!”
+
+Friday was a hectic day for Laurie and all others concerned with the
+fête. Difficulties that had remained in ambush all the week sprang out
+and confronted them at the last moment. Half a dozen things had been
+forgotten, and every member of the committee sought to exonerate
+himself. Tempers were short and the meeting in Dan Whipple’s room at
+nine o’clock was far from harmonious. All went to bed that night firmly
+convinced that the affair was doomed to be a flat failure. And, to add
+to that conviction, the night sky was overcast and an unsympathetic
+easterly wind was blowing. Ned, conscious of having imposed too many
+duties on Laurie, was grouchy and silent; and Laurie, convinced that he
+had been made a “goat” of, and that Ned was secretly blaming him for
+mistakes and omissions that were no fault of his, retired in high
+dudgeon.
+
+And yet, the morning dawned fair and warm, with an almost cloudless blue
+sky over the world, and life looked very different indeed. Ned arose
+whistling, and Laurie somehow knew that everything would be all right.
+Fortunately, they had but two recitations on Saturday, and in
+consequence there remained to them three whole hours before dinner to
+devote to the affairs of the entertainment. They were busy hours, you
+may be sure. If Ned hurried downtown once, he hurried there half a dozen
+times; while Laurie, seated beside the driver of a rickety
+express-wagon, rounded up all kinds of things, from the platform at the
+field-house to the cakes at Miss Comfort’s. Dinner brought a respite;
+but as soon as it was over, Laurie was back on the job, while Ned joined
+the football-players.
+
+Of course, what the Hillman’s School football team should have done that
+afternoon was to score a decisive victory over the visiting eleven. What
+it did do was to get thoroughly worsted. Loring was something of a
+surprise, with a heavier line and a faster bunch of backs than Hillman’s
+had expected. And Loring knew a lot of football, and proved the fact
+early in the game. At half-past two, by which time the second period was
+half over, the result was a foregone conclusion. Loring had scored two
+touch-downs and as many goals therefrom, and the Blue had never once
+threatened the adversary’s last white line. Gains through the opponent
+were infrequent and short, even Pope, who could generally be depended on
+to tear off a few yards when the worst came to the worst, failing
+dismally.
+
+In mid-field, Mason and Slavin made some stirring advances around the
+Loring wings, and there were several successful forward passes to the
+home team’s credit; but, once past Loring’s thirty-yard line, Hillman’s
+seemed powerless. The third quarter went scoreless, and in the fourth,
+realizing doubtless that defeat was certain, Coach Mulford used his
+substitutes lavishly. Ned made his first appearance on the big team in
+that period, taking Mason’s place for some eight of the fifteen minutes.
+He did neither better nor worse than the other second- and third-string
+fellows, perhaps—although, when Pope was taken out and Deering
+substituted at full-back, he did his share of the punting and performed
+very creditably. But that fourth period gave Loring an opportunity to
+add to her score, and she seized it. Even with several substitutes in
+her own line-up, she was still far better than Hillman’s, and a goal
+from the field and, in the last few moments of the game, a third
+touch-down, resulted.
+
+The Blue fought desperately and gamely with her back to the wall, in an
+effort to stave off that last score; but eventually Holmes, who had
+taken Kewpie’s place at center, weakened, and the Loring back piled
+through. The final score was 23 to 0, and what two hours before had been
+looked on as a victory or, at the worst, a tie, had become a cataclysm!
+Humiliated, if not disgraced, the home-team players trailed to the
+field-house with hanging heads, averting their eyes from the sight of
+Loring’s triumphal march around the gridiron.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV—THE FETE
+
+
+Behold Fairyland!
+
+Well, at least an excellent imitation of what Fairyland must look like.
+Overhead, a clear, star-sprinkled sky; below, scores of gaily-hued
+lanterns shedding their soft glow over a charming scene. Through the
+side gate, please, on School Park. Twenty-five cents to the boy on duty
+there, and you are inside, with the manifold attractions awaiting you.
+On three sides of the transformed garden are the college booths, each
+decked with bunting and flags of appropriate colors, and each presided
+over by a patriotically attired young lady who will gladly, nay,
+eagerly, sell you almost anything from a cake of soap (“Donated by the
+Town Square Pharmacy, H. J. Congreve, Prop’r.”) to a knitted sweater or
+a gingham house-dress (“Compliments of The New York Store, High Class
+Dry Goods”). Near at hand, Yale is represented by Miss Polly Deane,
+capped and aproned in blue, her eyes sparkling and her voice sweetly
+insistent: “Won’t you buy something, please, sir? Post-cards, two for
+five! These pictures are only fifty cents, all beautifully framed and
+ready for hanging! Can I sell you something, ma’am?”
+
+Beyond, gay with orange and black, is the Princeton booth; and still
+beyond, Dartmouth and Columbia and California; and then, a blur of
+brilliant crimson through the leafage, Harvard. And so on all around the
+garden, with merry voices sounding above the chatter of the throng that
+moves here and there. Down the center of Fairyland runs a leafy tunnel
+from within which blue and red and yellow and green rays twinkle. There,
+under the hanging lanterns, little tables and chairs are dotted on the
+gravel, and half a dozen aproned youths are busy bearing, not always
+without mishap, plates of salad and rolls and dishes of ice-cream and
+cake. Close to the back of the house is a platform illumined by a row of
+electric lights, the one glaring spot in the area of soft radiance.
+
+“How’s it going?” asked a heavily-built youth of a slimmer one who had
+paused at the entrance to the arbor.
+
+“Hello, Kewpie! Oh, bully, so far. We took in eighty-four dollars this
+afternoon, and we’ll do at least twice as well to-night. They’re still
+coming. Have you seen Whipple anywhere?”
+
+“Yes, a minute ago, down at the Pennsylvania booth. She’s a mighty
+pretty girl, too, Nod. I bought a pocket-knife of her for a quarter, and
+got stung; but I don’t mind. I’m going back to get another pretty soon.
+When do I have to sing again?”
+
+“You follow Wilson’s clog-dance. We’re switching you and Cheesman,
+Kewpie. His stuff is corking, but it’s pretty high-brow, and we thought
+you’d better bring up the end and make the audience feel cheerful.”
+
+“All right; but it won’t feel very cheerful if those orchestra guys
+don’t do better than they did this afternoon. They were four or five
+notes behind me once! Nid said you had a new stunt this
+evening—something you left out this afternoon.”
+
+“Yes; we couldn’t work it in daylight very well. It ought to go fine
+to-night, though.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“You wait and see. I’ve got to find Whipple. Say, if you see Ned, tell
+him I’ll be at the platform in five minutes and want him to meet me
+there. Everybody keeps getting lost here!”
+
+On the way past the arbor, Laurie ran into George Watson, returning
+across lots balancing a couple of plates in one hand and holding a large
+slab of cake in the other, from which he nibbled as he went. “Hello!” he
+said, none too distinctly. “I’ve been looking for you.”
+
+“Wanted to bring me refreshments, I suppose.”
+
+George looked at the empty plates, laughed, and shook his head. “Not
+exactly. I’ve been feeding Cornell. Somebody ought to take eats to those
+girls, Nod; they’re starving!”
+
+“All right; you do it.”
+
+“What do you think I am? A millionaire? I bought Mae a salad and an
+ice-cream, and I’m about broke. Lend me a half, will you? Thanks. Want
+an ice-cream? I’ll treat.”
+
+“No, thanks. Have you seen Dan Whipple?”
+
+“Sure! He’s over at the Pennsylvania booth, buying it out! Say,
+everything’s going great, isn’t it? Couldn’t have had a finer evening,
+either, what? Well, see you later. I’m hungry!” And George continued his
+way to the house, where Miss Tabitha, surrounded by willing and hungry
+helpers, presided sternly, but most capably, over the refreshments.
+
+At eight o’clock the boy on duty at the entrance estimated the
+attendance as close to two hundred, which, added to the eighty-six paid
+admissions before supper, brought the total close to the first estimate
+of three hundred. It is safe to say that every Hillman’s boy attended
+the fête either in the afternoon or evening, and that most of the
+faculty came and brought Mrs. Faculty—when there was a Mrs. Faculty.
+Doctor Hillman was spied by Laurie purchasing a particularly useless and
+unlovely article in burnt wood from the auburn-haired Miss Hatch. Every
+one seemed to be having a good time, and the only fly in the ointment of
+the committee was the likelihood that the refreshments would be
+exhausted far too soon.
+
+The Weather Man had kindly provided an evening of exceptional warmth,
+with scarcely enough breeze to sway the paper lanterns that glowed from
+end to end of the old garden, an evening so warm that ice-cream was more
+in demand than sandwiches or salad; and fortunately so, since ice-cream
+was the one article of refreshment that could be and was replenished.
+If, said Ned, folks would stick to ice-cream and go light on the other
+refreshments, they might get through. To which Laurie agreed, and Ned
+hied him to the telephone and ordered another freezer sent up.
+
+At a few minutes after eight the Banjo and Mandolin Club took possession
+of the chairs behind the platform and dashed into a military march.
+Following that, six picked members of the Gymnastic Club did some very
+clever work, and Cheesman, a tall and rather soulful-looking upper
+middler, sang two ballads very well indeed, and then, as an encore,
+quite took the joy out of life with “Suwanee River”! Little Miss
+Comfort, present through the courtesy of the Committee on Arrangements,
+sniffled quite audibly, but was heard to declare that “it was just too
+sweet for anything!” A rather embarrassed junior attempted some card
+tricks that didn’t go very well, and then Wilson, garbed more or less in
+the character of an Irish gentleman returning from Donnybrook Fair, and
+swinging a shillaly, did some jig-dancing that was really clever and won
+much applause.
+
+There was a brief unofficial intermission while three anxious committee
+members made search for Kewpie Proudtree. He was presently discovered
+consuming his fourth plate of ice-cream in the seclusion of the side
+porch, and was haled away, protesting, to the platform. In spite of what
+may seem an over-indulgence in refreshment, Kewpie was in excellent
+voice and a jovial mood, and sang four rollicking songs in a manner that
+captured his audience. In fact, long after Kewpie had vanished from the
+public gaze and returned to his ice-cream, the audience still demanded
+more.
+
+Its attention was eventually captured, however, by Dan Whipple, who
+announced importantly that it gave him much pleasure to say that, at a
+great expense, the committee had secured as an added attraction the
+world-famed Signor Duodelli, who, with their kind permission, would
+exhibit for their pleasure and astoundment his miraculous act known as
+the Vanishing Man, as performed before the crowned heads of Europe, to
+the bewilderment and applause of all beholders. “Ladies and gentlemen,
+Signor Duodelli!”
+
+The Signor had a noticeable likeness to Lew Cooper, in spite of his
+gorgeous mustache and flowing robe of red and purple cheese-cloth. Yet
+it might not have been Lew, for his manner was extremely foreign and his
+gestures and the few words he used in directing the arranging of his
+“properties” were unmistakably Latin. The properties consisted of a
+kitchen chair, a threefold screen covered with black baize, and a coil
+of rope. There was also in evidence a short wand, but the Signor held
+that in his hand, waving it around most eloquently. The audience laughed
+and applauded and waited patiently until the chair had been placed
+exactly to the Signor’s liking, close to the back of the platform, and
+the screen beside it. Previously several of the lights had been put out,
+and those that remained threw their glare on the front of the stage,
+leaving the back, while discernible, less in evidence.
+
+“Now,” announced the Signor, narrowly escaping from falling off the
+platform as he tripped over his robe, “I aska da some one coma up and
+giva da help. Any one I aska. You, Signor, maybe, eh?” The magician
+pointed his wand at Mr. Cornish, in the front of the clustered audience;
+but the gentleman laughingly declined. The Signor seemed disappointed.
+“No-o-o? You no geta da hurt. Some one else, eh?” He looked invitingly
+around, and a small junior, urged by his companions, struggled to the
+front. Unfortunately for his ambitions to pose in the lime-light, the
+Signor’s glance had moved to another quarter, and, ere the junior could
+get his attention, a volunteer appeared from the semi-obscurity of the
+kitchen porch. He was peculiarly attired, wearing a simple white garment
+having a strong resemblance to the old-fashioned night-shirt, that
+covered him completely from neck to ankles. He was bareheaded, revealing
+the fact that his locks were red-brown in hue.
+
+“Ah!” exclaimed the Signor, delightedly. “You will helpa me, _si_? Right
+thisa way, Signor. I thanka you!”
+
+“That’s one of the Turner fellows,” muttered a boy, while the small
+junior and his companions called “Fake!” loudly. However, the
+good-natured laughter of the audience drowned the accusation, and some
+two hundred pairs of eyes watched amusedly and expectantly while, with
+the assistance of two other volunteers, the youth in the white robe was
+tied securely to the chair.
+
+“Maka him tight,” directed the Signor, enthusiastically, waving his
+wand. “Pulla da knot. Ha, thata da way! Good! Signors, I thanka you!”
+
+The two who had tied the victim to the chair retired from the platform.
+The Signor seized the screen and opened it wide and turned it around and
+closed it and turned it again.
+
+“You seea?” he demanded. “There is nothing that deceive! Now, then, I
+placea da screen so!” He folded it around the boy and the chair, leaving
+only the side away from the audience uncovered. He drew away the width
+of the platform, and, “Music, ifa you please,” he requested. The
+orchestra, whose members had moved their chairs to one side, struck up a
+merry tune, and the Signor, folding his arms, bent a rapt gaze on the
+blank, impenetrable blackness of the screen. A brief moment passed. Then
+the Signor bade the music cease, took a step forward, and pointed to the
+screen.
+
+“Away!” he cried, and swung his arm in a half-circle, his body following
+with a weird flaring of his brilliant robes until, with outstretched
+finger, he faced the audience. “Ha! He come! Thisa way, Signor! Comea
+quick!”
+
+As one man the audience turned and followed the pointing finger. Through
+the deserted arbor came a boy in a white garment. He pushed his way
+through the throng and jumped to the stage. As he did so, the Signor
+whisked aside the screen. There was the chair empty, and there was the
+rope dangling from it, twisted and knotted.
+
+A moment of surprised silence gave place to hearty applause.
+Theoretically it might have been possible for the boy in the chair to
+vanish from behind the screen, reach the farther end of the garden, and
+run back into sight; but actually, as the audience realized on second
+thought, it couldn’t possibly have been done in the few seconds, surely
+not more than ten, that had elapsed between the placing of the screen
+and the appearance of the boy behind them. And then, how had he got
+himself free from the rope? An audience likes to be puzzled, and this
+one surely was. The garden hummed with conjecture and discussion. There
+were some there who could have explained the seeming phenomenon, but
+they held their counsel.
+
+Meanwhile, on the platform the Signor was modestly bowing alternately to
+the audience and to his subject, the latter apparently no worse for his
+magic transposition. And the orchestra again broke into its interrupted
+melody. The applause became insistent, but Signor Duodelli, perhaps
+because his contract with the committee called for no further evidence
+of his powers, only bowed and bowed and at last disappeared into the
+obscurity of the shadows. Whereupon the Banjo and Mandolin Club moved
+into the house, and presently the strains of a one-step summoned the
+dancers to the big drawing-room.
+
+Laurie, unconsciously rubbing a wrist, smiled as he listened to the
+comments of the dissolving audience. “Well, but there’s no getting
+around the fact that it was the same boy,” declared a pompous little
+gentleman to his companion. “Same hair and eyes and everything! Couldn’t
+be two boys as much alike, eh? Not possibly! Very clever!”
+
+Laurie chuckled as he made his way to Polly’s booth. That young lady
+looked a little tired, and, by the same token, so did the Yale booth!
+Only a bare dozen framed pictures and a small number of post-cards
+remained of her stock. “Don’t you think I’ve done awfully well?” asked
+Polly, a trifle pathetically. She seemed to need praise, and Laurie
+supplied it.
+
+“Corking, Polly,” he assured her. “I guess you’ve sold more than any of
+the others, haven’t you?”
+
+“N-no, I guess some of the others have done better, Nod; but I think
+they had more attractive articles, don’t you? Anyhow, I’ve taken in
+twelve dollars and thirty cents since supper, and I made four dollars
+and eighty-five cents this afternoon; only I must have dropped a dime
+somewhere, for I’m ten cents short. Or perhaps someone didn’t give me
+the right amount.”
+
+“Why, that’s seventeen dollars!” exclaimed Laurie. “I didn’t think you
+had anywhere near seventeen dollars’ worth of things here, Polly!”
+
+“Oh, I didn’t! Not nearly! Why, if I’d sold things at the prices marked
+on them, Nod, I wouldn’t have had more than half as much! But lots of
+folks _wanted_ to pay more, and I let them. Mr. Conklin, the jeweler,
+bought a picture, one of the funny landscapes with the frames that
+didn’t fit at the corners, and he said it was ridiculous to sell it for
+a quarter, and he gave me a dollar for it. Then he held the picture up
+and just laughed and laughed at it! I guess he just wanted to spend his
+money, don’t you? You know, Ned said we were to get as much as we could
+for things, so I usually added ten cents to the price that was marked on
+them—sometimes more, if a person looked extravagant. One lady came back
+and said she’d paid twenty-five cents for a picture and it was marked
+fifteen on the back. I said I was sorry she was dissatisfied and I’d be
+very glad to buy it back from her for twenty.”
+
+Laurie laughed. “What did she say to that?” he asked.
+
+“She said if I wanted it bad enough to pay twenty cents for it she
+guessed it was worth twenty-five, and went off and didn’t come back.”
+Polly laughed and then sighed. “I’m awfully tired. Doesn’t that music
+sound lovely? Do you dance?”
+
+Laurie shook his head. “No; but, say, if you want to go in there, I’ll
+watch the booth for you.”
+
+Polly hesitated. “It’s funny you don’t,” she said. “Don’t you like it?”
+
+It was Laurie’s turn to hesitate. “No, not much. I never have danced.
+It—it seems sort of silly.” He looked at Polly doubtfully. Although he
+wouldn’t have acknowledged it, he was more than half sorry that dancing
+was not included among his accomplishments.
+
+“It isn’t silly at all,” asserted Polly, almost indignantly. “You ought
+to learn. Mae could teach you to one-step in no time at all!”
+
+“I guess that’s about the way I’d do it,” answered Laurie, sadly—“in no
+time at all! Don’t you—couldn’t _you_ teach a fellow?”
+
+“I don’t believe so. I never tried to teach any one. Besides, Mae dances
+lots better than I do. She put the things she had left on Grace
+Boswell’s booth and went inside the minute the music started. She wanted
+me to come, but I thought I shouldn’t,” added Polly, virtuously.
+
+“You go ahead now,” urged Laurie. “I’ll stay here till you come back. It
+isn’t fair for you girls to miss the dancing. Besides, I guess there
+won’t be much more sold now. Folks have begun to go, some of them, and
+most of the others are inside.”
+
+Polly looked toward the house. Through the big wide-open windows the
+lilting music of a waltz floated out. The Banjo and Mandolin Club was
+really doing very well to-night. Polly sighed once and looked wistful.
+Then she shook her head. “Thanks, Nod,” she said, “but I guess I’ll stay
+here. Some one _might_ come.”
+
+“What do you care? You don’t own ’em! Anyway, I guess I could sell a
+post-card if I had to!”
+
+“You’d have trouble selling any of those pictures,” laughed Polly.
+“Aren’t they dreadful? Where did they come from?”
+
+“Pretty fierce,” Laurie agreed. “They came from the Metropolitan
+Furniture Store. The man dug them out of a corner in the cellar. I guess
+he’d had them for years! Anyway, there was enough dust on them to choke
+you. He seemed awfully tickled when we agreed to take them and let him
+alone!”
+
+“I should think he might have! We girls agreed to buy things from each
+other, just to help, but the only things they bought from me were
+post-cards!” Polly laughed as though at some thought; and Laurie, who
+had elevated himself to an empty corner of the booth and was swinging
+his feet against the blue draping in front, looked inquiringly. “I was
+just thinking about the boys,” explained Polly.
+
+“What about them? What boys do you mean?” Laurie asked coldly.
+
+“The high school boys. They’re awfully peeved because we girls took part
+in this, and not one of them has been here, I guess.”
+
+“Cheeky beggars,” grumbled Laurie. “Guess we can do without them,
+though. Here comes Bob’s father.”
+
+Mr. Starling was bent on a most peculiar mission. Laurie and Polly
+watched him stop at the next booth and engage in conversation. Then a
+fat pocket-book was produced, a bill was tendered, and Mr. Starling
+strolled on. At the Yale booth he stopped again.
+
+“Well, Turner,” he greeted, “this affair looks like a huge success,
+doesn’t it? Why aren’t you young folks inside there, dancing?”
+
+“I don’t dance, sir,” answered Laurie, somewhat to his chagrin in a most
+apologetic tone. “And Polly thinks she ought to stand by the ship. This
+is Polly Deane, Mr. Starling.”
+
+Bob’s father shook hands cordially across the depleted counter and
+assured its proprietor that he was very glad indeed to make her
+acquaintance. Then he added: “But you don’t seem to have much left, Miss
+Polly. Now, I’m a great hand at a bargain. I dare say that if you made
+me a fair price for what there is here I’d jump at it. What do you say?”
+
+Polly apparently didn’t know just what to say for a minute, and her gaze
+sought counsel of Laurie.
+
+“If you ask me,” laughed the latter, “I’d say fifty cents was a big
+price for the lot!”
+
+“You’re not in charge,” said Mr. Starling, almost severely. “I’m sure
+the young lady has better business ability. Suppose you name a price,
+Miss Polly.”
+
+“We-ell—” Polly did some mental arithmetic, and then, doubtfully: “A
+dollar and a half, sir,” she said.
+
+“Done!” replied Mr. Starling. He drew forth a two-dollar bill. “There
+you are! Just leave the things where they are. I’ll look after them
+later. Now you youngsters go in and dance. What’s this? Change? My dear
+young lady, don’t you know that change is never given at an affair of
+this kind? I really couldn’t think of taking it. It—it’s a criminal
+offense!” And Mr. Starling nodded and walked away.
+
+“By Jove, he’s a brick!” exclaimed Laurie, warmly. “Look, he’s doing the
+same thing everywhere!”
+
+“I know,” answered Polly, watching. “It’s just dear of him, isn’t it?
+But, Nod, _what_ do you suppose he will do with these awful pictures?”
+
+“The same thing he will do with that truck he’s buying now,” was the
+laughing reply. “He will probably put them in the furnace!”
+
+“Well,” said Polly, after a moment, “I suppose we might as well go
+inside, don’t you? We can look on, anyway, and”—with a stifled
+sigh—“I’d ’most as lief look on as dance.”
+
+Laurie followed, for the second time in his life wishing that the
+Terpsichorean art had been included in his education!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV—NED HAS AN IDEA
+
+
+“Three hundred and thirty-three dollars and eighty-five cents,” said
+Ned, in very satisfied tones. “We took in three hundred and sixty-three
+five, but we had twenty-nine twenty to come out for expenses. Not so
+bad, what?”
+
+“But something tells me,” answered Laurie, mournfully, “that if all our
+expenses were deducted we’d have less than that. You see,” he explained
+to Polly, “I lost the piece of paper that I set down the money I paid
+out on, and I just had to guess what it all came to, because I’d never
+had time to add it up.”
+
+“I dare say you guessed enough,” replied Ned, untroubled.
+
+“I dare say I didn’t, then!” was the indignant response. “If I did,
+where’s all the money I had when I started? I’ve got a dollar and ninety
+cents left, and I had over four dollars when you roped me in on the
+thing! I’m more than two dollars shy, I tell you!”
+
+“Oh, well, it’s gone for a worthy cause,” laughed Ned.
+
+“Maybe,” Laurie grumbled, “but I notice that none of yours has gone that
+way. You always made me pay for everything!”
+
+“Well, I think you did it beautifully,” said Polly. “I never suspected
+you’d make so much!”
+
+They were in the little garden behind the shop. It was the second day
+after the fête, and the bell in the Congregational church tower had just
+struck two. There was a perceptible nip in the air to-day, and the
+flowers in the border showed blackened leaves, while the nasturtiums
+were frankly limp and lifeless. But here in the sunshine it was warm
+enough, and Laurie, spurning the bench, was seated tailor fashion on the
+yellowing turf. Polly had stated her absolute certitude that he would
+catch cold, but Laurie derided the idea.
+
+“We’re awfully much obliged to you girls,” said Ned. “We wouldn’t have
+done nearly so well if you hadn’t helped. I think the committee ought to
+give you a—a vote of thanks or something.”
+
+“Oh, we all loved it!” Polly assured him earnestly. “We had heaps of
+fun. Why, I wouldn’t have missed that disappearing trick for anything. I
+was positively thrilled when Laurie came running up the garden!”
+
+The boys’ laughter interrupted, and Polly looked puzzled.
+
+“That wasn’t Laurie,” explained Ned. “That was me.”
+
+“But I was sure you were the one in the chair! And if you were in the
+chair, how could you—”
+
+“I wasn’t, though. That was Laurie.”
+
+Polly sighed despairingly. “I’ll never get so I can tell you apart,” she
+said; “unless I hear you talk, that is! I don’t see yet how it was done.
+Won’t you please tell me?”
+
+“It was as easy as easy,” replied Ned. “You see, the way I planned it
+first—”
+
+“The way _who_ planned it?” inquired Laurie.
+
+“Well, the way _we_ planned it, then.”
+
+“Hold on! Whose idea was it in the first place, partner?”
+
+“Oh, don’t be so fussy! Anyway, you couldn’t have done it without me!”
+
+“I never said I could. But you’ve got a lot of cheek to talk about the
+way _you—_”
+
+Polly clapped her hands to her ears. “I’m not being told how it was
+done, and I do want to know. Go on, Ned.”
+
+“Well, it was done like this. You see, Laurie was tied to the chair, and
+I was hiding out at the other end of the garden. Then Lew Cooper put the
+screen around the chair.” Polly nodded. “Then I started toward the
+platform, and every one turned to look at me.” Polly nodded again.
+“Well, right behind the platform was the bulkhead door into the cellar.
+When Cooper shouted to me to come on, two fellows who were on the stairs
+waiting pushed the door open, grabbed Laurie, chair and all, and whisked
+him down cellar. Then they put another chair, just like the first one,
+behind the screen, and when Cooper pulled the screen away, there it was,
+just as if Laurie had somehow untied himself and—and vanished! Of
+course, if any one had been looking at the screen instead of at me just
+then, he might have seen what was going on, although it was pretty dark
+behind there and he mightn’t have. Anyway, no one was, I guess. The
+trick depended on the—the faint similarity between us. Lots of fellows
+who knew us were on to it, but the folks from the village were puzzled
+for fair!”
+
+“Indeed they were,” agreed Polly. “They just couldn’t understand it at
+all!”
+
+“It would have been better,” mused Laurie, “if we could have taken the
+screen away and showed the empty chair before Ned came into sight; but
+there didn’t seem to be any way of doing that. We had to have the people
+looking the other way, and we had to work quick. As it was, I was half
+killed, for Wainwright and Plummer were in such a hurry to get the other
+chair up there that they just dumped me on my back! And then they ran
+upstairs through the kitchen to see the end of it, and I was kicking
+around down there for five minutes!”
+
+“Well,” said Ned, a few minutes later, “I’m not finding out what to do
+with this.” He opened one hand and exposed some bills and two ten-cent
+pieces folded into a wad. “Your mother says she won’t take it,
+Polly—that she didn’t understand we were going to pay her for the
+cream-puffs. Gee, we wouldn’t have thought of asking her to make them
+for nothing!”
+
+Polly nodded sympathetically. “Mother says, though, that the boys bring
+so much trade to her that it’s only fair for her to help them.”
+
+“That’s poppy-cock!” said Laurie. “Seven dollars and twenty cents is a
+lot of money. Look here; don’t you think she ought to take it, Polly?”
+
+Polly was silent a moment. Then she nodded affirmatively. “Yes, I do,”
+she said frankly. “She really needs the money, Ned. I wouldn’t tell any
+one else, but we’re just frightfully hard up, and I wouldn’t be a bit
+surprised if Mother had to give up here before very long.”
+
+“Give up!” exclaimed Ned. “You mean—go away?”
+
+“Yes. You see, she doesn’t make very much money in the store; nothing
+like she used to before the war sent prices so high. And then, what with
+taxes and water and light, and the interest on the mortgage, why, it
+hardly pays. Just the same, if she says she won’t take the money, Ned,
+why, I guess she won’t, and that’s all there is to it. But she ought
+to!”
+
+“Can’t she charge more for things?” asked Laurie. “Everyone else does
+nowadays. That bake-shop down on Hudson Street gets eight cents for
+cream-puffs and éclairs, and you sell them for six.”
+
+“I know; but Mama says six cents is enough and that the boys oughtn’t to
+have to pay any more. And lots of things she sells for hardly any more
+than she used to before prices advanced. Why, I have to watch all the
+time; and when bills come in for things, I have to compare them with
+what we’re getting for them, and lots of times I find that Mama’s been
+selling for less than what she’s paid! She just won’t be a profiteer,
+she says!”
+
+“Gee! I hope you don’t have to shut up,” said Laurie. He looked around
+the little garden. “It—it’s such a jolly place! And the house and
+everything. Gee, that would be a shame!”
+
+Polly sighed while she nodded. “It is nice,” she agreed; “but there are
+so many things that ought to be done! Uncle Peter never would do much
+for us. He did promise to have the house painted, but he died about a
+month after that, and so it was never done.”
+
+“Suppose he up and died so’s he wouldn’t have to do it?” inquired
+Laurie, suspiciously.
+
+Polly shook her head and looked a trifle shocked, until she caught the
+smile in Ned’s eyes.
+
+“It doesn’t look as if it would cost much money to paint it,” remarked
+Ned, looking up at the rear of the little two-and-a-half-story building.
+“It’s not much more than a doll’s house, anyway. How many rooms are
+there, Polly?”
+
+“Three upstairs, and then a sort of attic room under the roof; and two
+downstairs.”
+
+“Uh-huh. I just wondered. It wouldn’t be much of a trick to paint the
+outside. Bet you I could do it in a couple of days.”
+
+Laurie gasped. “A couple of days! You? How do you get like that? It
+would take a real painter a week to do it!”
+
+“Maybe; but I’m not a real painter,” answered Ned, grinning. He glanced
+at the crumpled wad in his hand and held it tentatively toward Polly.
+“Maybe you’d better take charge of this, Polly, until we decide what to
+do with it.”
+
+But Polly put her hands resolutely behind her, and shook her head with
+decision. “No, Ned, I’d rather not. If Mama says she won’t have it, she
+won’t, and you might just as well give it back to the—the fund.”
+
+Somewhat to Laurie’s surprise, Ned pocketed the money without further
+protest. “All right,” he said. “It’s very kind of your mother. We
+mustn’t forget to see that her name’s included in the list of those who
+donated things, Laurie. This week’s ‘Messenger’ is going to tell all
+about it. Well, I’ve got to pull my freight. You coming, partner?”
+
+“Yes, I guess so,” replied Laurie, without much enthusiasm. “I promised
+Bob and George to get another fellow and play some tennis this
+afternoon.”
+
+“Gee! it must be great to have nothing to do but play,” sighed his
+brother.
+
+“Huh, any one would think, to hear you talk, that you were working,”
+replied Laurie, crushingly. “All you do is stand around and watch the
+others.”
+
+“Think so?” Ned smiled in a superior way. “You come down this afternoon
+and see how much standing around I do. Joe Stevenson says I’ve got to
+practise goals now. Isn’t that the limit?”
+
+“I suppose it pains him to see you loafing,” said Laurie. “Anyway, I
+dare say it’ll keep you out of mischief.”
+
+Laurie led the way to the back fence, against which leaned a plank with
+two pieces of wood nailed across it. This afforded a short cut to and
+from school, and was an idea of Bob’s. From the top of the fence they
+dropped into the shrubbery and then made their way to the side gate.
+
+The arbor had not yet been denuded of its evergreen clothing, and there
+were other evidences of the recent festival in the shape of crumpled
+paper napkins lying on the ground. Thomas had taken down the lanterns
+and was packing them away in their case by the kitchen porch, and the
+boys called a greeting to him as they passed.
+
+“Bob still mean to make a tennis-court here?” asked Ned, as they went
+through the gate.
+
+“Yes. He’s going to tear down that arbor right away, he says. So far,
+though, he hasn’t found any one to do the work on the court. Every one
+is busy. I don’t believe he will get it done in time to use it this
+fall.”
+
+“Of course he won’t. It’s nearly November now. Say, you’d better take
+this money and hand it over to Whipple. You’ll see him before I do. And
+tell him to put Mrs. Deane’s name down with the other folks who
+contributed, will you?”
+
+“All right; but I think it’s a shame to let her stand for all those
+cakes.”
+
+“So do I; only—”
+
+“Only what?”
+
+“Maybe we can make it up to her another way. I’ve got an idea, Laurie.”
+
+“I hope it’s better than most of ’em. What is it?”
+
+And when Ned had explained it, Laurie considered a long moment and then
+indorsed it enthusiastically. “That’s corking!” he cried. “For once,
+Ned, the old bean has worked! Only, when could we—”
+
+“Christmas vacation,” said Ned. “We won’t have much to do then. What do
+you say?”
+
+“I say that, for the first time in my life, Neddie, I’m proud to
+acknowledge you as my twin!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI—POLLY TELLS A SPOOK STORY
+
+
+Assured of sufficient funds to complete its season without financial
+embarrassment, the Hillman’s football team seemed to take a new and
+firmer grip on things. Practice went well that week, and the players
+showed vim and snap. Perhaps the colder weather helped, too. The line-up
+that faced the scrubs on Friday for a short scrimmage was, barring
+accidents, that which would, four weeks later, start the game against
+Hillman’s old rival, Farview Academy. Farley and White were at the ends,
+Captain Stevenson and Pringle were the tackles, Emerson and Corson were
+the guards, and Kewpie Proudtree was at center. Frank Brattle at
+quarter, Mason and Slavin for halves, and Pope at full-back composed the
+rest of the team. There were some weak places, to be sure; but, on the
+whole, Coach Mulford was fairly satisfied that he had the parts for a
+capable machine.
+
+Ned was still playing on the scrub eleven, and doing rather well. As a
+punter, at least, he deserved his position at left half, and it might be
+that he would develop into a fair goal-kicker; for in the last four
+days, under the tuition of the coach and full-back Pope, he had shown
+excellent promise. Those morning lessons, now abandoned, had grounded
+Ned well in the art of toeing the pigskin, and, whatever fame the future
+might hold for him as punter or drop-kicker or place-kicker, much of the
+credit would be Kewpie’s.
+
+To-day, in the second ten minutes of the scrimmaging,—there was but
+twenty minutes in all,—Thursby, playing quarter, and probably acting
+under instructions, gave Ned his first chance to show what he could do
+in the way of field goals. Unable to reach a point nearer than twenty
+yards to the school team’s goal, Thursby called for “kick formation,
+Turner back,” and Ned went up-field with his heart in his mouth.
+Although the cross-bar was less than thirty yards from where he took his
+stand and almost directly in front of him, it looked to Ned to be a
+woeful distance away and the angle much more severe than it was. But he
+didn’t have much time for reflection, for Thursby called his signal
+quickly, and the leather came back to him at a good pass, and the school
+team was crashing through.
+
+Ned always thought that he closed his eyes when he swung his toe against
+the rebounding ball and trusted to luck, but I doubt it, for the pigskin
+described a perfect arc and went well and true over the bar, and if Ned
+had had his eyes closed I don’t believe the pigskin would have acted
+that way at all. Most of the scrub team players thumped him on the back
+and showed their delight in other ways, for they had not scored on the
+school team for nearly a week; while, at a little distance, Coach
+Mulford nodded his head almost imperceptibly. It was too bad Ned didn’t
+see that nod, for it would have pleased him far more than the buffets of
+his team-mates.
+
+The next day Hillman’s made a trip to Warring and played the Lansing
+team to a standstill, returning with a 22-0 victory tucked under its
+belt. Ned got into the game for a bare five minutes at the last, as did
+half a dozen other substitutes; but he was not called on to kick any
+goals, for which he was at once sorry and glad. To have had the eyes of
+nearly a thousand persons on him would, he thought, have precluded any
+possibility of success; but, on the other hand, had he succeeded—He
+sighed for lost opportunities!
+
+The attendance that afternoon was a matter of great joy to Manager Dave
+Murray, for Hillman’s went home with a neat sum as its share of the
+day’s profits, a sum far larger than he had counted on—large enough, in
+fact, to make up the difference between the net receipts from the fête
+and the three hundred and fifty dollars aimed at.
+
+Hillman’s good fortune held for another week. There were no accidents
+during practice; every fellow in the line-up played for all that was in
+him; and the scrubs took a licking every afternoon. Ned twice more
+gained glory as a drop-kicker, although on a third occasion he failed
+lamentably. Unfortunately, neither of his successes brought victory to
+his team, since the opponents had on each occasion a safe lead in the
+scoring. Every afternoon, following the scrimmage, Ned was presented by
+the coach with a nice battle-scarred football, and instructed to go down
+to the east goal and “put some over.” Sometimes Hop Kendrick or Ben
+Thursby went with him to hold the ball while he tried placement-kicks,
+and always an unhappy substitute was delegated to retrieve the pigskin
+for him; but the coach let him pretty much alone, and Pope looked on
+only occasionally and was surprisingly sparing of comment or advice. And
+yet, Ned improved, rather to his surprise, since he felt himself
+neglected and, as he said to Laurie, didn’t see how they expected a
+fellow to learn goal-kicking if they didn’t show him a little! But,
+although he didn’t realize it, Ned had reached a point in his
+development where he was best left to his own devices, and Coach Mulford
+knew it and forbore to risk confusing him with unnecessary instruction.
+So Ned pegged away doggedly, and got results, as he considered, in spite
+of the coach!
+
+Against the Queens Preparatory Institute, which journeyed up from the
+city on Saturday, the Blue was able to emerge from four grueling
+fifteen-minute periods with the score 6-6, from the Blue’s standpoint a
+very satisfactory showing, for Q. P. I. was a much-heralded team and had
+downed stronger elevens than Hillman’s. So November began its second
+week, and cloudy days and not infrequently rainy ones took the place of
+the sunny weather of October.
+
+Laurie would have been somewhat at a loss for a way in which to spend
+his afternoons at that time, had it not been for Bob Starling’s
+overmastering desire to build a tennis-court in the garden of the
+Coventry place. The weather was far too cold for tennis, although now
+and then he and Bob played George and Lee Murdock, and the wrecking of
+the old grape-arbor, preparatory to digging up the sod, proved a welcome
+diversion. Sometimes Thomas took a hand; but Thomas had plenty to do
+indoors, and the work was accomplished almost wholly by Bob and Laurie,
+with the occasional moral support of George or Lee.
+
+Usually an hour’s labor with hammer or crowbar ended with an adjournment
+to the Widow Deane’s, by way of the back fence, for refreshments.
+Sometimes it was warm enough to foregather in the little garden behind
+the shop and, armed with cream-puffs or tarts, spend a jolly half-hour
+in the society of Polly and Mae. At such times Mrs. Deane, hearing the
+shouts and laughter, came to the back door and smiled in sympathy.
+
+One glorious afternoon of mingled sunlight and frost there was an
+excursion afoot out into the country in search of nuts. Polly and Mae
+and Laurie and George and Bob and Lee formed the party. They carried two
+baskets, one of which George wore on his head most of the way, to the
+wonderment of the infrequent passers. Mae knew, or thought she knew,
+where there were chestnut trees, and led the way for three miles to what
+is called Two Jug Ridge. The chestnut trees, however, were, according to
+Laurie, away for the afternoon. They found some hickory nuts, not quite
+ready to leave their husks, and a few beech-nuts, and after gathering
+those they sat on a broad, flat boulder and looked down on Orstead and
+Little Windsor and some twelve miles of the Hudson River, and talked a
+good deal of nonsense—all except Lee, who went to sleep with his cap
+pulled over his eyes, and had a cold in his head for days after. George
+decided that when he was through college and was married, he would come
+back there and build a bungalow just where they were seated.
+
+“This will do for the front door-step,” he expounded, “and over there
+will be a closed-in porch with an open fireplace and a Gloucester
+hammock.”
+
+“That all you’re going to have?” asked Bob. “No kitchen?”
+
+“Oh, there’ll be a kitchen, all right, and a dining-room—no, I guess
+we’ll eat on the porch. Wouldn’t it be a dandy place, though? Look at
+the view!”
+
+“Fine,” said Laurie, without much enthusiasm, remembering the last
+uphill mile. “Don’t mind if I don’t come to see you often, though, do
+you?”
+
+“Not a bit! Nobody asked you, anyway.”
+
+“You could live on nuts,” murmured Polly, “and could have shaggy-barks
+for breakfast and beech-nuts for dinner and—”
+
+“Grape-nuts for supper,” said Laurie, coming to the rescue.
+
+“And you could call the place the Squirrel-Cage,” suggested Bob.
+
+And that reminded Mae of a story her father had told of a man who had
+lived in the woods farther down the river some years before, and who ate
+nothing but nuts and things he found in the forest. “He lived all alone
+in a little cabin he’d built, and folks said he was a deserter from the
+army, and—”
+
+“What army?” George asked.
+
+“The Northern Army, of course.”
+
+“I thought you might mean the Salvation Army. Then this was quite awhile
+ago, wasn’t it?”
+
+“Of course, stupid! Years and years ago. And finally, when he died,
+folks found that he wasn’t a deserter at all, but a general or a major
+or something, and they found a prize that the government had given him,
+some sort of a medal for bravery in battle. Wasn’t that sad?”
+
+“Well,” replied Laurie, doubtfully, “I suppose it was. I suppose the
+government would have shown better judgment if they’d given him a bag of
+nuts. Of course, he couldn’t eat that medal!”
+
+“You’re horrid! Anyway, it just shows that you mustn’t judge folks
+by—by outward appearances, doesn’t it?”
+
+“Rather! I’ve always said that, too. Take George, for example. Just to
+look at him, you’d never think he had any sense at all; but at times—”
+
+“Lay off of George,” interrupted that young gentleman, threateningly.
+“If folks judged you by the way you talk, you’d be inside a nice high
+wall!”
+
+Why the talk should have drifted from there to the subject of ghosts and
+uncanny happenings isn’t apparent, but it did. In the midst of it, Lee
+gave a tremendous snore that scared both the girls horribly, and sat up
+suddenly, blinking. “Hello!” he muttered. Then he yawned and grinned
+foolishly. “Guess I must have dropped off,” he said apologetically.
+
+“You didn’t,” said George. “If you had you’d have waked up quicker! Cut
+out the chatter; Polly’s telling a spook yarn.”
+
+Lee gathered up a handful of beech-nuts and was silent except for the
+sound he made in cracking the shells.
+
+“It isn’t much of a story,” disclaimed Polly, “but it—it _was_ funny.
+It began just after Mama and I came here. I mean, that was the first
+time. One night, after we had gone to bed, Mama called me. ‘I think
+there’s some one downstairs, Polly,’ she whispered. We both listened,
+and, sure enough, we could hear a sort of tapping sound. It wasn’t like
+footsteps, exactly; more—more hollow, as if it came from a long way
+off. But it sounded right underneath. We listened a minute or two, and
+then it stopped and didn’t begin again; and presently we lighted a
+candle and went downstairs, and nobody was there and everything was
+quite all right. So we thought that perhaps what we’d heard was some one
+walking along the street.
+
+“We didn’t hear it again for nearly two weeks, and then it lasted
+longer—maybe two minutes. It got louder; and stopped, and began again,
+and died away; and we sat there and listened, and I thought of ghosts
+and everything except robbers, because it didn’t sound like any one in
+the store. It was more as if it was some one in the cellar.”
+
+“Well, maybe it was,” suggested Laurie, when Polly paused.
+
+“That’s what we thought, Nod, until we went to see. Then we remembered
+that there wasn’t any cellar!”
+
+“Oh!” said Laurie.
+
+“What happened then?” asked Lee, flicking a shell at George.
+
+“It kept on happening every little while for two years. We got so we
+didn’t think any more about it. Mr. Farmer, the lawyer, said what we
+heard was probably a rat. But I know very well it wasn’t that. It was
+too regular. It was always just the same each time. At first we could
+just hear it a little, and then it grew louder and louder, and stopped.
+And then it began again, loud, and just sort of—of trailed off till you
+couldn’t hear it at all. I suppose we never would have heard it if it
+hadn’t been for Mama not sleeping very well, because it always came
+after midnight, usually about half-past twelve. After a while I didn’t
+hear it at all, because Mama stopped waking me up.”
+
+“Spooks,” declared George, with unction. “The house is haunted, Polly.”
+
+“Wish I lived there,” said Bob eagerly. “I’m crazy about ghosts. They
+told me that old Coven—I mean your uncle, Polly—haunted the house
+we’re in; but, gee! I’ve been around at all times of night and never
+seen a thing! There are lots of jolly, shivery noises—stairs creaking,
+and woodwork popping, and all that, you know; but nary a ghost. Look
+here, Polly! Let me sit down in the store some night, will you? I’d love
+to!”
+
+“You’ve got funny ideas of fun,” murmured George.
+
+“Oh, but it’s gone now,” said Mae. “Hasn’t it, Polly? You haven’t heard
+the noise for a long time, have you?”
+
+“No, not for—oh, two years, I think. At least, that’s what Mama says.
+Maybe, though, she sleeps better and doesn’t hear things.”
+
+“I guess Mr. What’s-his-name was right,” said Lee. “It was probably a
+rat, or a family of rats.”
+
+“Rats wouldn’t make the same sound every time,” scoffed Laurie.
+
+“They might. Trained rats might. Maybe they escaped from a circus.”
+
+“And maybe you escaped from an asylum,” responded Laurie, getting up.
+“Let’s take him home before he gets violent.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII—LAURIE MAKES A PROTEST
+
+
+The football team continued to add victories, and as the fateful 20th of
+November approached enthusiasm grew until, after the Whittier game,
+which Hillman’s won by a field goal in the final hectic two minutes, it
+became more a furore than enthusiasm. Ned, by that time, had settled
+down to a realization that, no matter what progress he made this fall,
+no matter how adept he became at kicking a football down the field or
+over the cross-bar, he would not make the first team; that, in short, he
+was being educated as next year material. There was no injustice in
+this, and he realized it; for, aside from his proficiency as a kicker,
+he was not in the class with the school team backs. He couldn’t worm his
+way through a hole in the opposing line the way Slavin could, nor smash
+through the defense the way Mason did, nor dodge and side-step in a
+broken field like Pope. Once going, Ned was rather hard to stop, for he
+displayed some of the slippery qualities of an eel; but it took him ten
+yards to get his speed up, and the opponents had a discouraging way of
+getting through and flooring him before the tenth yard was won! But he
+had grown to love the game, and no one toiled more conscientiously.
+There were times when Laurie devoutly wished that Ned hadn’t taken up
+the game, for after a half-hour of Ned’s chatter Laurie found the
+subject of football a trifle dull.
+
+On the Wednesday before the Farview contest the Orstead High School team
+came over for a practice game. At least, Hillman’s called it a practice
+game and considered it such; but High School had blood in her eye and
+was secretly determined to wreak all the vengeance possible. Once a
+year, for the space of some three hours, Orstead High School swore
+allegiance to Hillman’s and turned out at the field and rooted valiantly
+for the Blue while she battled with Farview. But all the rest of the
+time she was frankly hostile and derisive. This Wednesday afternoon the
+hostility was apparent from the first. More than a hundred boys and a
+scattering of girls followed their team to the Hillman’s field and
+demanded revenge for the early-season defeat, while the High School
+team, which had passed through a rather successful season and was not at
+all the aggregation that the Blue had beaten 10 to 7, started right out
+after it.
+
+Coach Mulford began with his first-string players, and against them High
+School was not dangerous, although there were anxious moments. The
+second period ended with the score 7—0 in Hillman’s favor, only a
+fumble by Slavin on High School’s eight yards saving the visitor from a
+second touch-down. When the third quarter began, Coach Mulford put in
+nearly a new eleven, only Kewpie Proudtree, Farley, Mason, and Pope
+remaining over. Perhaps the High School coach had talked new strength
+and determination into his charges during the intermission, for the
+visitors started in on the second half in whirlwind fashion. The Blue
+kicked off, and High School’s quarter got the ball on his
+twenty-five-yard line and scampered back to the thirty-five before he
+was laid low by Farley, the Blue’s left end. From there, with fierce
+slams at Hillman’s right and two short forward passes over the center of
+the line, High School reached the opponent’s thirty-two. There an
+off-side penalty set her back, and, after two attempts at rushing that
+produced but three yards, she kicked to the five-yard line. Kendrick
+fumbled the catch, but recovered and was downed on his ten. Pope punted
+on second down to mid-field, and from there High School started another
+slashing advance that took her to the thirty-four yards before she was
+halted.
+
+On the side-lines, the High School supporters were shouting and
+beseeching and banners were waving deliriously. A tow-haired full-back,
+who had all along proved the visitor’s best ground-gainer, smashed
+through the Hillman’s left for two yards; and then, on fourth down,
+faking a kick, he set off on a romp around the adversary’s right.
+Lightner, the second-string end, was effectually boxed, and the runner,
+turning wide, was off down the field at top speed. Only Hop Kendrick
+stood between him and the goal-line, and Hop waited on the fifteen
+yards, wary and alert. The tow-haired boy’s feint to the right didn’t
+fool him, and when the side-stepping to the left began, Hop was on him
+with a clean dive and a hard tackle, and the two rolled to earth
+together. But the ball was on the thirteen yards now, and it was first
+down for High School, and the latter was not to be denied. A plunge off
+tackle took the pigskin in front of the goal, though there was no gain.
+Hillman’s piled up an attack at right guard. On third down, High School
+called for kick formation, and the tow-haired terror dropped back.
+
+From the side of the gridiron, Hillman’s rooters chanted: “Block that
+kick! Block that kick!” But there was no kick to block, for the
+full-back only backed away a pace or two when the pigskin reached him,
+and then tossed to the corner of the field and to the eager hands of an
+uncovered right end who had but to make three strides before he was over
+the line. Hop got him then; but the damage was done, and the visitors
+lining the gridiron were cheering and cavorting wildly. The kick was
+from a difficult angle, but the tow-haired player made it, and the score
+was tied.
+
+The teams changed fields a minute later. Undismayed, Coach Mulford sent
+in three new substitutes, one of them in place of Pope. Hillman’s got
+the ball in mid-field on a fumble, and set off for the adversary’s goal;
+but the new players were not able to make much headway, and Deering, who
+had taken Pope’s place, punted. The effort landed the ball on High
+School’s thirty-seven, and her quarter ran it back eight more before he
+was stopped. Three tries at the line netted seven yards, and the visitor
+punted to Hop Kendrick on his eighteen. This time Hop hugged the ball
+hard and set off along the far side of the gridiron at a smart pace.
+Fortunately for him, one High School end overran. The other challenged,
+but missed his tackle. By that time a hasty interference had formed,
+and, guarded by Mason and Lightner, Hop reached his forty before
+misfortune overtook him. There a High School tackle crashed through the
+interference and nailed him hard.
+
+But that twenty-yard sprint had brought new vim to the Blue’s novices,
+and new confidence, and from their forty yards they began a fast, hard
+attack that placed High School with her back to the wall almost before
+she realized it. If the substitutes lacked the experience and brawn of
+the first-choice players, they at least had sand and speed. And they had
+a quarter-back who was earnest and grim and determined, and who, sensing
+that the opponent was weary, realized that speed, and a lot of it, was
+the one thing that could save the day. And so Hop proved his right to
+his nickname that afternoon. Hop he did, and so did his team. Signals
+were fairly shot into the air, and there was no longer any time between
+plays for High School to recover her breath. Twice, with plunges at the
+right of the visitor’s line and runs outside her tackles, Hillman’s made
+her distance and the pigskin rested on the thirty-six yards.
+
+So far the Blue had attempted but three forward passes, of which only
+one had succeeded. Now, from position, Hop threw straight over the
+center, and somehow Lightner was there and pulled it down, although the
+enemy was clustered around him thick. That seven-yard gain was made ten
+when Deering was poked through the center, ten a little more, for the
+ball was down on High School’s twenty-four-yard line. The game that had
+been proclaimed a practice event for the purpose of seasoning the
+substitutes against Saturday’s contest had developed within the last
+half-hour into a battle to the death. Outside the gridiron the opposing
+factions hurled defiant cheers at each other and rooted as they had not
+rooted all the season. On the field the rivalry was even more intense,
+and black looks and hard knocks were the order.
+
+High School, sparring for time, administered to a breathless right
+guard, and then drew into a bunch for a whispered conference, while
+Hillman’s supporters hooted derisively. Deering gained three and Boessel
+two more. High School ran two substitutes on, and, after the next play,
+two more. An old-fashioned criss-cross sent Mason around his own right
+end for eight yards and planted the ball just short of the ten-yard
+line. Mason gave place to Beedle. A slide off tackle centered the
+pigskin and gained a scant yard. Deering struck center for a yard loss,
+and Lightner was caught off-side. The ball went back to the seventeen
+yards.
+
+High School was playing desperately and her line had stiffened. Beedle
+gave way to Ned after that second down, and Ned had his instructions.
+The ball was in front of High School’s goal, and from the seventeen
+yards a field goal was an easy proposition if the opponents could be
+held away from the kicker. Perhaps Hop Kendrick didn’t realize why Ned
+had been sent in, or perhaps he thought better of his own judgment.
+Since by the rules Ned could not communicate the instructions from the
+coach until after the following play, he could only look his surprise
+when Hop failed to call him back to kicking position. Farley, captain in
+Stevenson’s absence, seemed to be on the point of protesting, and even
+took a step toward the quarter-back; but he evidently reconsidered, for
+he returned to his position at the end of the line, and the starting
+signal followed.
+
+The play was a fake attack on the right, with Boessel carrying the ball
+to the left inside of tackle, and it worked to perfection. High School,
+over-anxious, stormed to the defense of her threatened right side, and
+Boessel, with Ned hanging at his flank as far as the five-yard line,
+where the earth suddenly rose up and smote him, romped over the line for
+the last and deciding touch-down, while the Blue cohorts went fairly
+wild with delight.
+
+On the side-line, Coach Mulford turned to Joe Stevenson. “What do you
+think of Kendrick?” he asked, smiling.
+
+“I’d kiss him if I had him here,” answered Joe, grinning joyously. “I
+call him one sweet little quarter, Coach!”
+
+“Well, this was his day, all right,” mused the other; “I hope he will
+show up as well Saturday. Now we’ll see whether Turner can kick a goal.
+He’s been doing some good work in practice, but he looks scared to death
+and will probably miss it by a mile.”
+
+And Ned _was_ scared, too. He tried to steady his nerves by assuring
+himself that, whether he made it or missed it, the Blue had won the
+game, and that consequently a failure made little difference. But the
+silence of his schoolmates and the “booing” of the visiting rooters
+affected him badly. To Hop, holding the ball from the turf, it seemed
+that Ned would never have done pointing it. And so it seemed to the
+onlookers. Never was a kicker more deliberate. But at last Hop heard a
+faint “Down!” and drew his fingers from beneath the oval and waited an
+anxious moment. Then there was a clean, hard _thud_, and the
+quarter-back, watching its flight, saw the pigskin rise lazily, end over
+end, and go straight and high over the bar.
+
+And he might have heard Ned’s loud sigh of relief, had not the pounding
+of the charging enemy and the cries of the Hillman’s horde drowned it.
+
+Another kick-off and four plays ended the contest, and High School,
+after cheering half-heartedly, went off disgruntled and silent.
+
+On his way to the field-house, Ned, trotting along with Hop, encountered
+Polly and Mae in the throng, and paused to speak. “Bully game, wasn’t
+it?” he said. Then, seeing Mae’s High School banner, he added: “High
+School put up a dandy fight, Mae.”
+
+“Indeed she did,” agreed Mae. “I thought once she was going to win,
+too.”
+
+Polly was laughing. “Poor Mae didn’t know which team she wanted to win,”
+she explained. “When High School gained she waved her flag, and when
+Hillman’s gained she waved it just the same. She was waving it all the
+time! That was a lovely goal you made, Nid.”
+
+“Thanks. I—well, I was so scared I didn’t know whether to kick the ball
+or bite it! I’m mighty glad it went over, though.” He nodded and hurried
+on in the wake of Hop, who, being a very earnest young gentleman and
+completely absorbed in the business of football, considered girls far
+outside his scheme of things.
+
+Three quarters of an hour later, Laurie arose from his recumbent
+position on the window-seat of Number 16 East Hall, and delivered an
+ultimatum in quiet but forceful tones. “Ned,” he said, “I saw that game
+from about the middle of the first quarter to the bitter end. Nothing
+escaped my eagle gaze. I can even tell you exactly how many times that
+High School umpire consulted his rules book when he thought no one was
+looking. I know how much dirt there was in Frank Brattle’s left ear when
+they dragged him out. I know—”
+
+“Well, what of it? What’s your chief trouble?” growled Ned.
+
+“Knowing all this and more, much more, Neddie, I refuse to listen any
+longer to your reminiscences. You’ve been through the game three times
+since you landed up here, and there’s a limit to my endurance. And
+you’ve reached that limit, Neddie—you really have. I’m going down to
+George’s, where I may hear something besides touch-downs and passes and
+goals. When you recover, Neddie, come on down.”
+
+“Oh, go to the dickens!” muttered Ned, as the door closed softly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII—BEFORE THE BATTLE
+
+
+“The fellow who put these posts in,” grunted Bob, as he heaved and
+tugged, “must have had more time than brains!”
+
+It was Thursday afternoon. A hard frost, which had frozen the ground a
+half-inch deep, had counseled him to finish the work of wrecking the
+arbor. But three posts remained, and at one of these Bob, after having
+dug around it, and pried at it with a bar until patience was exhausted,
+was tugging lustily. Laurie, wiping the sweat of honest toil from his
+brow, cast aside the bar and gave a hand.
+
+“Come on,” he said hopefully. “One, two—three! Heave!”
+
+“Heave!” muttered Bob.
+
+But although the post, which had formed a corner of the arbor, gave from
+side to side, it refused to leave its nest. Panting, the boys drew off
+and observed it glumly.
+
+“Guess we’ll have to dig some more,” said Bob.
+
+“Wait a minute. Let me get a purchase on it with the bar.”
+
+Laurie seized that implement again and drove it into the softened earth
+beside the post. As the first drive didn’t send it far enough, he pulled
+it out, and put all his strength into the next effort. This time he
+succeeded beyond all expectations. The bar slipped through his fingers
+and disappeared from sight!
+
+“Well!” he gasped. “What do you know—”
+
+“Where-where did it go to?” cried Bob, dumfounded.
+
+“It went—it went to China, I guess! It just slipped right through my
+hands, and kept on slipping!” Laurie knelt and dug at the hole with his
+fingers.
+
+“Find it?” asked Bob. “Try the shovel.”
+
+“No, I can’t feel it. Hand it here.” Laurie took the shovel and dug
+frantically. Then Bob dug. The result was that they enlarged and
+deepened the hole around the post, but the crowbar failed to
+materialize.
+
+“I suppose,” said Laurie, finally, dropping the shovel and tilting back
+his cap, “what happened was that I struck a sort of hole, and the bar
+went right down in. Maybe it was a rat-hole, Bob.”
+
+“I guess so. Anyway, it’s gone, and we’ll have to get a new one.”
+
+“Oh, I guess we’ll find it when we get the post out. Let’s try the old
+thing.”
+
+They did, and, after a moment of indecision, it came out most
+obligingly. But there was still no crowbar to be seen. Laurie shook his
+head, mystified. “That’s the funniest thing I ever saw,” he declared.
+
+“It surely is! Look here; maybe there’s an old well there.”
+
+“Then why didn’t the post go down into it?”
+
+“Because it’s covered over with stones. The bar happened to slip into
+a—a crevice.”
+
+Laurie nodded dubiously. “That might be it,” he agreed. “Or perhaps
+we’ve discovered a subterranean cavern!”
+
+“Caverns always are subterranean, aren’t they?”
+
+“No; sometimes they’re in the side of a hill.”
+
+“Then they’re caves.”
+
+“A cave and a cavern are the same thing, you smart Aleck.”
+
+“All right; but even if a cavern is in a hill, it’s underground, and
+subterranean means under—”
+
+“Help! You win, Bob! Come on and get hold of this log and let’s get it
+out of here.” And, as they staggered with it across the garden to add it
+to the pile of posts and lumber already there, he continued: “There’s
+one thing certain, Bob, and that’s that you won’t get me to play tennis
+on your court. I’d be afraid of sinking into the ground some fine day!”
+
+“Maybe you’d find the crowbar then,” said Bob. “Heave!”
+
+Laurie “heaved,” patted the brown loam from his hands, and surveyed the
+pile. “There’s a lot of good stuff there,” he pondered. “Some of it’s
+sort of rotten, but there’s enough to build something.”
+
+“What do you want to build?”
+
+“I don’t know. We could build a sort of covered seat, like the one in
+Polly’s yard, where folks could rest and look on. Take about six of
+these posts and some of the strips, and some boards for the seat—”
+
+“Who’d dig the post-holes?” inquired Bob, coldly.
+
+“Oh, we could get a couple of the others to help. Honest, Bob, it would
+be a lot of fun. Maybe we couldn’t do it before spring, though.”
+
+“I might leave the stuff here,” said Bob. “Thomas could sort of pile it
+a little neater, you know. I love to carpenter. Sometime we’ll draw a
+plan of it, Nod.”
+
+“Right-o! How about those other posts? No use trying to do anything with
+’em to-day, is there?”
+
+“No; we’ll have to have another crowbar.”
+
+Laurie looked relieved. “Well, let’s go over and see whether the Widow’s
+got any of those little cakes with the chocolate on top,” he suggested.
+“Hard work always makes a fellow hungry.”
+
+There was a rousing football meeting in the auditorium that evening,
+with speeches and music, songs and cheers; and the enthusiasm spilled
+over to the yard afterward, and threatened to become unruly until Dan
+Whipple mounted the steps of School Hall and spoke with all the
+authority of eighteen years and the senior class presidency. Whereupon
+someone suggested a cheer for the Doctor, and the joyous crowd thronged
+to the west end of the building and gave nine long “Hillman’s,” with a
+“Doctor Hillman” on the end. And then suddenly the lights flashed on on
+the porch, and there were the Doctor and Miss Tabitha, the former
+looking very much as if he had awakened very recently from a nap—which
+was, in fact, the case. But he was smiling as he stepped to the doorway
+and near-sightedly surveyed the throng.
+
+“This—er—testimonial would appear to demand some sort of a response,”
+he announced, as the applause that had greeted his appearance died away.
+“But I find myself singularly devoid of words, boys. Perhaps some of you
+recall the story of the visitor in Sunday-school who was unexpectedly
+called on by the superintendent to address the children. He hemmed and
+hawed and said, finally, that it gave him much pleasure to see so many
+smiling, happy faces. And he hoped they were all good little boys and
+girls and knew their lessons. And then his eloquence failed him, and
+after an unhappy interim he asked: ‘And now, children, what shall I
+say?’ And a little girl in the front row lisped: ‘Pleathe, Mithter, thay
+“Amen” and thit down!’
+
+“Perhaps I’d better say ‘Amen’ and sit down, too,” he went on, when the
+laughter had ceased; “but before I do I’d like to assure you that I am
+‘rooting’ just as hard as any of you for a victory the day after
+to-morrow. My duties will not allow me to see the team in action, as
+much as I’d like to, but I am kept well informed of its progress. I have
+my scouts at work constantly. Mr. Pennington reports to me on the work
+of the linemen; Mr. Barrett advises me each day as to the backs; Mr.
+Wells is my authority on—er—stratagem.”
+
+This amused his hearers intensely, since none of the three instructors
+mentioned had ever been known to attend a game or watch a practice.
+
+“And,” continued the principal, when he could, “I follow the newspaper
+reports of our enemy’s progress. Of course, I don’t believe all I read.
+If I did I’d be certain that only overwhelming disaster awaited us on
+Saturday. But there is one thing that troubles me. I read recently that
+the Farview center is a very large youth, weighing, if I am not
+mistaken, some one hundred and seventy pounds. While mere weight and
+brawn are not everything, I yet tremble to consider what may happen to
+the slight, atomic youth who will oppose him. Young gentlemen, I shudder
+when I dwell on that unequal meeting, that impending battle of David and
+Goliath!”
+
+When the new burst of laughter had subsided, the doctor continued more
+soberly: “I wish the team all success, a notable victory. Or, if the
+gods of battle will it otherwise, I wish it the manly grace to accept
+defeat smilingly and undismayed. I am certain of one thing, boys, which
+is that, whether fortune favors the Dark Blue or the Maroon and White,
+the contest will be hard fought and clean, and bring honor alike to the
+victor and vanquished. You have my heartiest good wishes. And”—the
+doctor took the hand of Miss Tabitha, who had been standing a few steps
+behind him—“and the heartiest good wishes of another, who, while not a
+close follower of your sports, has a warm spot in her heart for each and
+every one of you, and who is as firmly convinced as I am of the
+invincibility of the Dark Blue!”
+
+“Three cheers for Tab—for Miss Hillman!” cried a voice; and, at first a
+trifle ragged with laughter, the cheers rang forth heartily. Then came
+another cheer for the doctor and a rousing one for “Hillman’s!
+_Hillman’s!!_ HILLMAN’S!!!” And the little throng, laughing and
+chattering, dispersed to the dormitories.
+
+Friday saw but a light practice for the first team and a final
+appearance of the scrubs, who, cheered by the students, went through a
+few minutes of snappy signal work, and the waving sweaters and blankets
+dashed off to the field-house, their period of servitude at an end. For
+the first team there was a long blackboard drill in the gymnasium after
+supper, and Ned, who, somewhat to his surprise and very much to his
+gratification, had been retained on the squad, returned to Number 16 at
+nine o’clock in a rather bemused condition of mind. Kewpie, who
+accompanied him, tried to cheer him up.
+
+“It’ll be all right to-morrow, Nid,” he declared. “I know how you feel.
+Fact is, I wouldn’t know one signal from another if I got it this
+minute, and as for those sequences—” Words failed him. “But when you
+get on the field to-morrow it’ll all come back to you. It—it’s sort of
+psychological. A trick of memory and all that. You understand!”
+
+“I don’t see why he needs to worry, anyhow,” observed Laurie, cruelly.
+“He won’t get a show in to-morrow’s game.”
+
+Ned looked hopeful for a moment, then relapsed into dejection as Kewpie
+answered: “I’d like to bet you he will, Nod. I’d like to bet you that
+he’ll play a full period. You just watch Farview lay for Pope! Boy,
+they’re going to make hard weather for that lad! They were after him
+last year, but they couldn’t get him and he played right through. But
+I’d like to bet you that to-morrow they’ll have him out of it before the
+last quarter.”
+
+“What do you mean?” asked Laurie, in surprise. “They don’t play that
+sort of a game, do they?”
+
+“What sort of a game?” responded Kewpie. “They play hard, that’s the way
+they play! And every time they tackle Pope, they’ll tackle him so he’ll
+know it. And every time he hits the line, there’ll be one of those
+red-legs waiting for him. Oh, they don’t play dirty, if you mean that;
+but they don’t let any chances slip, believe me!”
+
+“It sounds sort of off color to me, though,” Laurie objected. “How are
+you going to put a fellow out of the game if you don’t slug or do
+something like that?”
+
+Kewpie smiled knowingly. “My son,” he said, “if I start after you and
+run you around the dormitory about twenty times—”
+
+Ned, in spite of his down-heartedness, snickered at the picture evolved,
+and Kewpie grinned.
+
+“Well, suppose some one else did, then. Anyhow, after he’d done it about
+a couple of dozen times, you’d be all in, wouldn’t you? He wouldn’t have
+to kick you or knock you down or anything, would he? Well, that’s what I
+mean. That’s the way they’ll go after Pope. They’ll tire him out. You
+understand. And every time they tackle him, they’ll tackle him good and
+hard. Well, suppose Pope does go out, and there’s a chance for a field
+goal, as there’s likely to be. Who will Pinky put in? Why, Nid, of
+course! Who else is there? Brattle can’t kick one goal in six. No more
+can Deering. What do you think Mulford’s been nursing Nid all the season
+for?”
+
+“Next year?” said Laurie, questioningly.
+
+“Sure—and this year, too. You watch and see. I’d like to bet you that
+Nid’ll have a goal to kick to-morrow—yes, and that he’ll kick it, too!”
+
+“Don’t!” groaned Ned. “I never could do it!”
+
+“Well,” laughed Laurie, “I don’t bet for money, Kewpie, but I tell you
+what I’ll do. If Ned kicks a goal to-morrow, I’ll take you over to the
+Widow’s, and I’ll buy you all the cream-puffs you can eat at one
+sitting!”
+
+“It’s a go!” cried Kewpie. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll do it to you!”
+
+“Of course,” explained Laurie, in recognition of his brother’s look of
+pained inquiry, “I’m not making the offer because I think Ned can’t do
+it, or because I don’t want him to play. You bet I do! It’s because I do
+want him to, Kewpie. You see, I usually lose bets!”
+
+“All right, you crazy galoot. I’ve got to beat it. Pinky made us swear
+by the Great Horn Spoon to be in bed by ten. Good night. Don’t let the
+signal stuff worry you, Nid. It’ll come out all right to-morrow. You
+understand. Night!”
+
+When the door had closed, Laurie laughed and turned to Ned. “He’s a good
+old scout, isn’t he? I say, what’s the matter with you, Ned? You look
+like the end of a hard winter! Cheer up! It may not be true!”
+
+But Ned shook his head, although he tried to smile unconcernedly. “It’ll
+happen just the way he told, Laurie,” he said, sadly. “I just know it
+will! They’ll get Pope out of the way, and there’ll be a field goal
+wanted, just as there was Wednesday, and Mulford will send me in!”
+
+“Well, what of it? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
+
+“I—I’m scared!”
+
+“Oh, piffle, Neddie! You’ve got nerves, that’s all. The night before the
+battle, you know, and all that! In the morning you’ll be as right as
+rain. Get your clothes off and tumble in. Want me to read a story to
+you? There’s a corker in the ‘Post’ this week.”
+
+“No, thanks; I guess not. I’d better go to sleep.”
+
+But, although Ned, stifling a desire to sit up and read the corking
+story himself, put the light out at ten minutes before ten, he lay awake
+until after midnight and suffered as blue a case of funk as any boy ever
+did. And when, at length, sleep came, it was filled with visions in
+which he stood in the center of a vast arena, the object of countless
+eyes, and tried over and over, and never with success, to kick a
+perfectly gigantic leather ball over a cross-bar that was higher than
+the Masonic Temple at home!
+
+The truth is that Ned was over-trained and stale. And the further truth
+is that when he awoke to as sweet a November morning as ever peered down
+from a cloudless sky through golden sunlight, he felt, as he phrased it
+to himself, like a sock that had just come through the wringer!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX—NED IS MISSING
+
+
+Ned ate almost no breakfast, and Laurie noted the fact, but, after a
+glance at his brother’s face, said nothing. After all, he reflected,
+there were probably others of the squad who were displaying no more
+appetite this morning. Afterward, on the way to School Hall for their
+only recitation of the day, he asked off-handedly: “How are you feeling,
+Neddie?”
+
+Ned didn’t answer at once. When he did, he only replied laconically:
+“Rotten!”
+
+“How do you mean, rotten?” Laurie disguised anxiety under flippancy.
+“Tummy out of whack? Or is it a case of ingrowing signals?”
+
+“I don’t know what the trouble is,” answered Ned seriously. “I feel
+perfectly punk. And I—I’m scared, Laurie. I’d give a million dollars if
+I didn’t have to go to the field this afternoon. I wish to goodness I
+could duck somehow. Say, feel my forehead. Isn’t it hot?”
+
+Laurie felt, and shook his head. “Cool as a cucumber, you old fakir.
+Buck up, Neddie! You’ll feel better after a while. Did you sleep all
+right?”
+
+“I guess so,” replied the other dispiritedly. “I dreamed a lot. Dreamed
+I was kicking goals over a bar as high as a mountain. And the ball was
+as big as a hogshead. And there were about a million folks watching me,
+and Mr. Cornish was beating a bass-drum.”
+
+Laurie laughed. “Some dream, Neddie! Tell you what. After we get out of
+here, we’ll take a nice, long hike. Mulford wants the players to stay
+outdoors, doesn’t he? Didn’t you tell me he said you were to walk or
+something?”
+
+Ned nodded. “I’m too tired to walk, though, Laurie. Guess I’ll get a
+book and go over to the park. Or go down and jump in the river!”
+
+“Fine idea!” scoffed Laurie. “What have you got against the river? It
+never did anything to you, did it?”
+
+Ned, however, refused to smile. “You don’t need to come along,” he said.
+“I—I guess I’d rather be alone, Laurie.”
+
+“You will be, if you’re going to jump in the river, partner! The water’s
+a heap too cold to appeal to me. Well, cheer up. See you when we come
+out.”
+
+There was a holiday feeling in the air this morning that didn’t promise
+well for recitations, and Mr. Brock’s chemistry class was a sore trial
+to that gentleman. Yet, although he frowned often and sighed many
+despairing sighs, he made allowance for the prevailing mood of
+restlessness and exhibited unusual patience. And finally it was over and
+the class trooped out.
+
+“You stay here,” said Laurie, “and I’ll run over and get a couple of
+books from the room. What do you want?”
+
+“I don’t care—anything,” answered Ned, listlessly.
+
+When Laurie went off, Ned seated himself on a step and gazed forlornly
+around him. Groups of boys stood on the walks in animated conversation.
+Near at hand, a half-dozen juniors were discussing the game avidly,
+drawing comforting conclusions from a comparison of the season’s
+performances of Hillman’s and Farview. Suddenly the prospect of sitting
+on a park bench with Laurie became utterly distasteful to Ned, and, with
+a hurried glance in the direction of East Hall, he arose and made his
+way along the drive and into Summit Street. There he turned to the left
+and walked quickly to the corner. At Washington Street another look
+behind showed that he had made his escape, and he heaved a sigh of
+relief and went on past the library and into Cumber Street, heading
+unconsciously toward the open country eastward of town.
+
+When Laurie returned to School Hall with a book for Ned and a magazine
+for himself, he sat down and waited a few minutes, supposing that Ned
+would be back. When he didn’t come, Laurie went over to School Park,
+thinking that he had perhaps grown tired of waiting in the yard. But no
+Ned was to be seen, and, puzzled but untroubled, Laurie dawdled into
+Pine Street. The white-and-red sign above the Widow Deane’s little store
+shone bravely in the sunlight. For an hour Laurie enjoyed the society of
+Polly and Antoinette in the sunny garden, where, against the board
+fence, a clump of hardy chrysanthemums made a cheery showing of yellow
+and lavender. Antoinette had retired to winter quarters, which means
+that a gunny-sack and a length of old red carpet had been draped over
+her box. But just now the drapery was lifted, and Antoinette was doing
+great things to a very large cabbage-leaf. Towser had established
+himself in the sunshine atop the porch roof and gazed down benignly at
+the pair below.
+
+Laurie and Polly talked, of course, about the game. He and George were
+again to act as escorts to the two girls, a fact that had eaten a large
+hole in Laurie’s remaining allowance. About ten o’clock he took himself
+away, reminding Polly to be ready at half-past one, since it took a good
+ten minutes to walk to the field, and because, wisely, he realized that
+to Polly “half-past one” would mean a quarter or two. Climbing the fence
+into Bob’s yard, he discovered that young man with a new crowbar about
+to begin an attack on the remaining posts of the arbor. So he removed
+his sweater, moistened his hands in the time-honored and only
+efficacious manner, and joined the assault. After the posts were added
+to the pile beside the fence, the two boys went indoors and refreshed
+the inner man with piping-hot ginger cookies. Thus it was that it was
+nearly noon when Laurie got back to Number 16, to find, to his
+uneasiness, that Ned was not there. Nor, as far as any evidences showed,
+had he been there since before breakfast.
+
+Laurie threw himself on the window-seat and tried to apply himself to
+the magazine that he had carried all morning. But he began to be really
+worried about Ned. He didn’t understand where he could be. Even if he
+had gone off by himself, mooning along the roads, which was what Laurie
+suspected he had done, he should have been home before this, for, as
+Laurie knew, the players were to go to lunch at twelve. Presently he
+dropped the magazine and strode across the corridor to Number 15. Kewpie
+was not in, but Hop was there—a more than ordinarily serious-faced Hop,
+who replied to Laurie’s inquiry in an absent-minded manner suggesting
+that some one had placed him in a trance and gone away without awakening
+him. Hop hadn’t seen Nid all morning. Kewpie had just gone over to West
+Hall. He hoped there wouldn’t be any wind this afternoon. Farview had a
+punter that could do fifty yards easily, and a wind would lengthen his
+kicks frightfully. Did Nod think those clouds meant wind?
+
+Laurie withdrew without venturing an opinion in the matter. Football, he
+reflected, was a far more dangerous pastime than folks generally
+realized, when it could affect a fellow’s brains like that! Downstairs,
+he searched the little group about the dining-hall door, and finally
+made inquiry of Dave Murray. Dave was worried and excited and a bit
+short-tempered.
+
+“Nid Turner? No, I haven’t seen him. He’ll be here pretty quick, though.
+We eat at twelve.”
+
+He left Laurie, to push his way toward the entrance to accost Mr.
+Mulford, who was coming in; and Laurie went out and sat down on the step
+and watched. Kewpie came striding across from West Hall, smiling and
+evidently very fit. But when Laurie questioned him the smile faded.
+
+“Nid? No, I haven’t set eyes on him. Isn’t he here? Are you sure? Say,
+you don’t suppose the silly guy has bolted? He was in mean shape last
+night, Nod. But he wouldn’t do that! He’s no quitter. He’ll be here in a
+minute or two.”
+
+“Suppose—suppose he isn’t?” asked Laurie, anxiously. “Would it matter
+much?”
+
+“Matter?” Kewpie shrugged, one eye on the dining-hall door, through
+which his team-mates were beginning to pass. “It wouldn’t matter to the
+game, I guess. I was only trying to cheer him up last night. You
+understand. It isn’t likely Pinky will use him. But it would be a bad
+thing for him, Nod. It would be an awful black eye, in fact, if he cut
+the game. Guess Pinky would just about can him for all time! I say, I’ve
+got to hustle in there. Why don’t you have a look around for him? Maybe
+he’s in the library, or over in West, or—or somewhere. See you later,
+Nod!”
+
+Kewpie disappeared into the dining-hall, and a moment later the door was
+closed. Laurie acted on Kewpie’s suggestion, and made a thorough search
+of School Hall and the other dormitory, and even poked his head into the
+gymnasium, where only an empty floor met his gaze. After that there
+seemed nothing to do but wait. Ned had already missed his lunch, for the
+fellows were coming out into the corridor when Laurie returned to East
+Hall. Murray nailed him as he tried to pass unnoticed to the stairs.
+
+“Say, Nod, where’s that brother of yours?” he demanded indignantly.
+“Didn’t he know that lunch was at twelve? Where is he, anyway?”
+
+“I don’t know, Dave,” Laurie answered, miserably. “He went for a walk
+this morning, and I haven’t seen him since. I guess he went too far and
+couldn’t get back in time. I’ve been looking all over for him.”
+
+“That’s fine!” said the manager, bitterly. “Mulford asked for him, and I
+said I’d look him up. You’d better find him mighty quick, Nod. Tell him
+to get something to eat somewhere and be at the gym not later than one.
+There’s a floor drill then. I’ll make it all right with Mulford,
+somehow. But there’ll be the dickens and all to pay if he doesn’t show
+up!”
+
+Hoping against hope, Laurie hurried up to the room. But there was no
+Ned. One o’clock came and passed. Time and again Laurie went to the gate
+and looked up and down the street, but without result. Ned had
+disappeared utterly, it seemed, and the unwelcome conclusion grew in
+Laurie’s mind that Ned had shown the white feather and had deliberately
+absented himself. Laurie didn’t like to think that, and there were
+moments when he couldn’t. But here it was nearly half-past one, and Ned
+hadn’t come, and facts are facts! It looked, he thought sadly, like a
+bad day for the honor of the Turners!
+
+At half-past one he found George Watson in his room, and handed over one
+of his tickets. “I can’t go to the field with you,” he said, “but I’ll
+find you over there. Try to keep a seat for me, will you?”
+
+“What’s the big idea?” asked George, blankly. “Why can’t you go with us?
+That’s a fine game to play!”
+
+“I’ll tell you later. I—I’ve got something to do. Be a good fellow,
+George, won’t you? And tell Polly how it is, will you?”
+
+“How the dickens can I tell Polly how it is when I don’t know how it is
+myself?” asked George, indignantly. “Oh, all right! But you want to get
+there pretty quick, Nod. It’s hard to hold seats when there aren’t
+enough of them in the first place. There’s a regular mob going out there
+already!”
+
+Disconsolately Laurie hurried out and stationed himself at the dormitory
+entrance. Presently the players emerged from the gymnasium in their togs
+and passed through the little gate to Washington Street. Laurie watched
+them file past, hoping hard that Ned would be among them. But, although
+all the rest were there, twenty-one in all, there was no Ned.
+
+From Washington Street and Summit Street came a steady tramping of feet,
+accompanied by a swishing sound as the pedestrians brushed through the
+fallen leaves. Occasionally an automobile went by with a warning honk of
+its horn at the corner. Looking over the withered hedge, Laurie could
+see the colors of Hillman’s and Farview marching past, banners of dark
+blue bearing the white Old English H, maroon-and-white flags adorned
+with the letters “F. A.” Laughter and the merry, excited chatter of many
+voices came to him. The yard was empty, except for a boy hurrying down
+the steps of West Hall, and he too quickly disappeared through the gate.
+
+Presently Laurie looked at his watch. The time was eighteen minutes to
+two. He left East Hall and turned toward the gymnasium. Out of the
+shelter of the dormitory a little breeze fanned his face, and he
+remembered Hop Kendrick’s dread of a wind that would put more power into
+the toe of the Farview punter. It might be, he reflected, that Hop was
+due for disappointment; but the matter didn’t seem very important to
+him. The locker-room in the gymnasium was empty. Over the benches lay
+the discarded underclothing of the players, and sometimes the outer
+clothing as well, suggesting that excitement on this occasion had
+prevailed over orderliness. Laurie made his way to Ned’s locker. It was
+closed, and behind the unfastened door hung his togs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX—FOR THE HONOR OF THE TURNERS
+
+
+Walking felt good to Ned that morning. The air, brisk in spite of the
+sunshine and the day’s stillness, cleared his head of the queer
+cloudiness that had been there since awakening, and, turning into the
+country road that led eastward toward the higher hills, he strode along
+briskly. He had, he reflected, played rather a low-down trick on Laurie;
+but that could be explained later, and Laurie wouldn’t mind when he
+understood. When he had gone the better part of a mile into the country,
+and the road had begun to steepen perceptibly, the sound of a motor
+behind warned him to one side. But, instead of passing in a cloud of
+dust, the automobile slowed down as it reached the pedestrian, and the
+driver, a genial-looking man of middle age, hailed.
+
+“Going my way?” he asked. “Get in if you like.”
+
+Ned hesitated, and then climbed in beside the solitary occupant of the
+car. The prospect of speeding through the sunlit morning world appealed
+to him, and he thanked the driver and snuggled into the other corner of
+the front seat.
+
+“That’s all right, my boy,” answered the man, genially. “Glad to have
+company. How far are you going?”
+
+“Just—just up the road a ways,” replied Ned, vaguely. “I was out for a
+walk, only this seemed better.”
+
+“Well, it’s quicker, though it doesn’t give you quite so much exercise,”
+was the response. “You sing out when you’ve had enough. Maybe you can
+get a lift going back, if you’re not in too much of a hurry. Still,
+there isn’t much travel on this road. Most folks go around by Little
+Windsor. It’s longer, but the road’s a sight better. I go this way
+because I can do it quicker. There are some fierce bumps, though. Yell
+if you drop out!”
+
+The car was a heavy one with good springs, and as long as Ned remained
+in it the bad bumps didn’t materialize. His companion evidently liked to
+talk, and Ned learned a good deal about him and his business, without,
+however, finding it very interesting. The man asked few questions, and
+so Ned merely supplied the information that he was from Hillman’s School
+and that he liked to walk and that he had all the morning to get back
+in. The car kept up an even, effortless speed of twenty-seven or -eight
+miles an hour, and it was finding himself booming up the straight grade
+over Candle Mountain that brought Ned to a sudden realization that if he
+meant to get back to school by twelve o’clock without undue effort he
+had best part company with his chatty acquaintance. So, at the summit of
+the hill, he said good-by, repeated his thanks, and got out.
+
+“Guess you’re about six miles from Orstead,” said the man. “It won’t
+take you long to get back there, though, if you find a lift. Don’t
+hesitate to stop any one you see; they’ll be glad to take you in.
+Good-by!”
+
+The gray automobile went on and was speedily dropping from sight beyond
+the nearly leafless forest. Ned watched it disappear, and then set his
+face toward home. The ride had certainly done him good, he told himself.
+The prospect of being called on to kick a dozen goals wouldn’t have
+dismayed him a mite at that moment. In fact, he suddenly realized that
+he was going to be horribly disappointed if the chance to attempt at
+least one goal from the field did not come to him, and he wondered why
+he had felt so craven last night.
+
+After a mile or so a small, dust-covered car overhauled him and went by
+without a challenge from him. It was still only ten o’clock, and he had
+two hours yet, and he had no intention of begging a ride. Taken
+leisurely, the remaining miles would be covered without weariness and in
+plenty of time. When he had accomplished, as he reckoned, about half the
+distance to Orstead, his watch said seventeen minutes to eleven. The
+forenoon had grown appreciably warmer, and so had Ned. Beside the road
+was a little knoll carpeted with ashy-brown beech-leaves. Only a stone
+wall, bordered with blackberry briars, intervened.
+
+Ned climbed across the wall and seated himself on the slope of the
+knoll. The land descended gently before him toward the river and the
+town, but neither was in sight. Presently, removing his cap, he
+stretched himself on his back and linked his fingers under his head. And
+presently, because the blue, sunlit, almost cloudless sky was too
+dazzling to gaze at long, he closed his eyes. And as he did so a
+strange, delicious languor descended upon him. He sighed luxuriously and
+stretched his legs into a more comfortable position. It was odd that he
+should feel sleepy at this time of day, he thought, and it wouldn’t do
+to stay here too long. He wished, though, that he didn’t have to get
+anywhere at any especial time. It would be great to just lie here like
+this and feel the sun on his face and—
+
+At about that moment he stopped thinking at all and went sound asleep.
+
+When he awoke he was in shadow, for the sun had traveled around and past
+the elbow of a near-by old and knotted oak whose brown-pink leaves still
+clung to the twisted branches. Ned looked around him in puzzlement, and
+it was a long moment before he could account for his surroundings. When
+he had, he sat up very quickly and gave a startled look at his watch.
+The thing was crazy! It said twenty-one minutes past two! Of course it
+couldn’t be that late, he told himself indignantly. But even as he said
+it he was oppressed by a conviction that it was. And a look at the sun
+removed any lingering doubt!
+
+He sprang to his feet, seized his cap, and stumbled across the wall,
+and, again on the road, set out at a run toward home. But after a moment
+he slowed up. “Was there any use in hurrying now? The game was already
+in progress—had been going on for twenty minutes. The first quarter was
+probably nearly over. What would they say to him, the fellows and Coach
+Mulford and—Laurie? Somehow, what Laurie would think appeared far more
+important than what any of the others might. He would have such a poor
+excuse, he reflected ruefully! Went for a walk, and fell asleep by the
+road! Gee, he couldn’t tell them that! He might tell Laurie; but the
+others—”
+
+He was jogging on as he thought things over. Even if he ran all the way,
+and he couldn’t do that, of course, he wouldn’t get to school before
+three. And then he would have to change into his togs and reach the
+field. And by that time the second half would have started. Wouldn’t it
+be far better to remain away altogether? He might easily reach his room
+unseen, and then, when Laurie returned, he could pretend illness. He
+might not fool Laurie; but the others, Coach Mulford and Dave Murray and
+the fellows, would have to believe him.
+
+If a fellow was ill, he couldn’t be expected to play football. He even
+got as far as wondering what particular and peculiar malady he could
+assume, when he put the idea aside.
+
+“No use lying about it,” he muttered. “Got to face the music, Ned! It
+was your own fault. Maybe Mulford will let me down easy. I wouldn’t like
+to queer myself for next year. Gee, though, what’ll the school think?”
+And Ned groaned aloud.
+
+While he had slept, five vehicles had passed him, and as many persons
+had seen him lying there asleep in the sun and idly conjectured about
+him. But now, when he needed help to conquer the interminable three
+miles that stretched between him and the town, and although he
+constantly turned his head to gaze hopefully back along the dusty road,
+not a conveyance appeared. Before long, since he had unwisely started at
+too great a speed, he was forced to sit down on a rock and rest. He was
+very nearly out of breath and the perspiration was trickling down
+beneath his cloth cap. A light breeze had sprung up since he had dropped
+asleep, and it felt very grateful as it caressed his damp hair and
+flushed face.
+
+Perhaps those three miles were nearer four, because when, tired, dusty,
+and heart-sick, he descried the tower of the Congregational church above
+the leafless elms and maples of the village, the gilded hands pointed to
+twelve minutes past three. Even had he arrived in time, he reflected
+miserably, he would never have been able to serve his team-mates and his
+school, for he was scarcely able to drag one foot behind the other as he
+finally turned into the yard.
+
+The place appeared deserted, grounds and buildings alike, as Ned
+unhesitatingly made his way across to the gymnasium. He had long since
+decided on his course of action. No matter whether he had failed his
+coach and his schoolmates, his duty was still plain. As late as it was,
+he would get into his togs and report at the field. But when, in the
+empty locker-room, he paused before where his football togs should have
+been, he found only empty hooks. The locker, save for towels, was empty!
+
+At first he accepted the fact as conclusive evidence of his
+disgrace—thought that coach or manager or an infuriated student body
+had removed his clothes as a signal of degradation! Then the
+unlikelihood of the conclusion came, and he wondered whether they had
+really been there. But of course they had! He remembered perfectly
+hanging them up, as usual, yesterday afternoon. Perhaps some one had
+borrowed them, then. The locker had been unfastened, probably, for half
+the time he forgot to turn the key in it. Wondering, he made his way out
+of the building, undecided now what to do. But as he reached the corner
+a burst of cheers floated to him from the play-field. His head came up.
+It was still his duty to report, togs or no togs! Resolutely he set out
+on Summit Street, the sounds of battle momentarily growing nearer as he
+limped along.
+
+By the entrances many automobiles and some carriages lined the road.
+Above the stand the backs of the spectators in the top row of seats
+looked strangely agitated, and blue flags waved and snapped. A fainter
+cheer came to him, the slogan of Farview, from the farther side of the
+field. He heard the piping of signals, and a dull thud of leather
+against leather, then cries and a whistle shrilling; and then a great
+and triumphant burst of cheering from the Blue side.
+
+He hurried his steps, leaped the low fence beside the road, and came to
+a group of spectators standing at the nearer end of the long, low grand
+stand. He could see the gridiron now, and the battling teams in
+mid-field. And the scoreboard at the farther end! And, seeing that, his
+heart sank. “Hillman’s 7—Visitors 9” was the story! He tugged the
+sleeve of a man beside him, a youngish man in a chauffeur’s livery.
+
+“What period is it?” he asked.
+
+“Fourth,” was the answer. The man turned a good-natured look on the
+boy’s anxious face.
+
+“Been going about four minutes. You just get here?”
+
+Ned nodded. “How did they get their nine?” he asked.
+
+“Farview? Worked a forward pass in the second quarter for about thirty
+yards, and smashed over for a touch-down. They failed at goal, though.
+That made ’em six, and they got three more in the last quarter.
+Hillman’s fumbled about on their thirty, and that bandy-legged full-back
+of Farview’s kicked a corking goal from field. Gee—say, it was some
+kick!”
+
+“Placement or drop?”
+
+“Drop. Almost forty yards, I guess. There they go again!” The chauffeur
+tiptoed to see over a neighbor’s head. Ned, past his shoulder, had an
+uncertain glimpse of the Maroon and White breaking through the Blue’s
+left side. When the down was signaled, he spoke again.
+
+“How did Hillman’s score?” he asked.
+
+“Huh? Oh, she got started right off at the beginning of the game and
+just ate those red-legs up. Rushed the ball from the middle of the
+field, five and six yards at a whack, and landed it on the other
+fellow’s door-sill. Farview sort of pulled together then and made a
+fight; but that big chap, Pope, the full-back, smashed through finally,
+right square between the posts. After that he kicked the goal. Guess the
+red-legs had stage-fright then, but they got over it, and our fellows
+haven’t had a chance to score since. Pope had to lay off last quarter.
+They played him to a standstill. Mason’s mighty good, but he can’t make
+the gains Pope did. First down again! Say, they aren’t doing a thing but
+eating us up!”
+
+Ned wormed himself to the front of the group, and came to anchor at the
+side of a tall policeman, close to the rope that stretched from the end
+of the stand well past the zone line. By craning his neck he could look
+down the length of the field. White-sweatered, armed with big blue
+megaphones, Brewster and Whipple and two others, cheer leaders, were
+working mightily, although the resulting cheers sounded weak where Ned
+stood. The teams were coming down the field slowly but surely, the Blue
+contesting every yard, but yielding after every play. The lines faced
+each other close to the thirty now. Across the gridiron, Farview’s pæans
+were joyful and confident, and the maroon-and-white flags gyrated in
+air. Well back toward his threatened goal, Hop Kendrick, white-faced and
+anxious, called hoarse encouragement. Ned clenched his hands and hoped
+and feared.
+
+A line attack turned into an unexpected forward pass, and a tall Farview
+end came streaking down just inside the boundary. Hop was after him like
+a shot; but Deering, who had taken Pope’s place, ran him out at the
+fifteen-yard line. The Maroon and White went wild with joy. The teams
+trooped in on the heels of the diminutive referee, and the ball was down
+just inside Hillman’s fifteen. Ned looked the Blue team over. Save for
+Corson and White, the line was made up of first-string men, but the back
+field was, with the single exception of Mason, all substitutes:
+Kendrick, Boessel, and Deering.
+
+A plunge straight at the center gave Farview two more precious yards,
+Kewpie, apparently pretty well played out, yielding before the desperate
+attack. Three more yards were gained between Emerson and Stevenson on
+the left. Third down now, and five to go! Evidently Farview was
+determined on a touch-down, for on the nine yards, with an excellent
+chance for a field goal, she elected to rush again. But this time the
+Blue’s center held, and the Farview left half, when friend and foe was
+pulled from above him, held the pigskin scarcely a foot in advance of
+its former position. It was Hillman’s turn to cheer, and cheer she did.
+Ned added a wild shout of triumph to the din about him.
+
+Fourth down, and still five yards to gain! Now Farview must either kick
+or try a forward, and realizing this the Blue’s secondary defense
+dropped back and out. A Farview substitute came speeding on, a new left
+tackle. Then, amid a sudden hush, the quarter sang his signals: “Kick
+formation! 73—61—29—” The big full-back stretched his arms out.
+“12—17—9!” Back sped the ball, straight and breast-high. The Blue line
+plunged gallantly. The stand became a pandemonium. The full-back swung a
+long right leg, but the ball didn’t drop from his hands. Two steps to
+the left, and he was poising it for a forward pass! Then he threw, well
+over the up-stretched hands of a Hillman’s player who had broken
+through, and to the left. A Maroon and White end awaited the ball, for
+the instant all alone on the Blue’s goal-line. Ned, seeing, groaned
+dismally. Then from somewhere a pair of blue-clad arms flashed into
+sight, a slim body leaped high, and from the Hillman’s side of the field
+came a veritable thunder of relief and exultation. For the blue arms had
+the ball, and the blue player was dodging and worming toward the farther
+side-line! Captain Stevenson it was who cleared the path for him at the
+last moment, bowling over a Farview player whose arms were already
+stretched to grapple, and, in a shorter time than the telling takes, Hop
+Kendrick was racing toward the distant goal!
+
+Afterward Ned realized that during the ensuing ten or twelve seconds he
+had tried desperately to shin up the tall policeman; but at the time he
+had not known it, nor, or so it appeared, had the policeman, for the
+latter was shouting his lungs out! Past the middle of the field sped
+Hop, running as fleetly as a hare, and behind him pounded a solitary
+Farview end. These two left the rest of the field farther and farther
+back at every stride. For a moment it seemed that Hop would win that
+desperate race; but at last, near the thirty-five yards, he faltered,
+and the gap between him and his pursuer closed to a matter of three or
+four strides, and after that it was only a question of how close to the
+goal the Blue runner would get before he was overtaken and dragged down.
+The end came between the fifteen- and twenty-yard streaks. Then, no more
+than a stride behind, the Farview player sprang. His arms wrapped
+themselves around Hop’s knees, and the runner crashed to earth.
+
+For a long minute the babel of shouting continued, for that eighty-yard
+sprint had changed the complexion of the game in a handful of seconds.
+Hillman’s was no longer the besieged, fighting in her last trench to
+stave off defeat, but stood now on the threshold of victory, herself the
+besieger!
+
+Farview called for time. Two substitutes came in to strengthen her line.
+Hop, evidently no worse for his effort, was on his feet again, thumping
+his players on the backs, imploring, entreating, and confident. On the
+seventeen yards lay the brown oval, almost in front of the right-hand
+goal-post. A field goal would put the home team one point to the good,
+and, with only a few minutes left to play, win the game almost beyond a
+doubt, and none on the Blue’s side of the field doubted that a try at
+goal would follow. Even when the first play came from ordinary formation
+and Deering smashed into the left of Farview’s line for a scant yard,
+the audience was not fooled. Of course, it was wise to gain what ground
+they might with three downs to waste, for there was always the chance
+that a runner might get free and that luck would bring a touch-down
+instead.
+
+Yet again Hop signaled a line attack. This time it was Mason who carried
+the ball, and he squirmed through for two yards outside left tackle,
+edging the pigskin nearer the center of the goal. Then came a shout that
+started near the Blue team’s bench and traveled right along the stand. A
+slight youngster was pulling off his sweater in front of the bench, a
+boy with red-brown hair and a pale, set face. Then he had covered the
+red-brown hair with a leather helmet and was trotting into the field
+with upraised hand.
+
+Ned stared and stared. Then he closed his eyes for an instant, opened
+them, and stared again. After that he pinched himself hard to make
+certain that he was awake and not still dreaming on the knoll beside the
+road. The substitute was speaking to the referee now, and Deering was
+walking away from the group in the direction of the bench. The cheering
+began, the leaders waving their arms in unison along the length of the
+Hillman’s stand:
+
+“’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! Deering!”
+
+And then again, a second later: “’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah!
+’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! Turner!”
+
+Ned turned imploringly to the tall policeman. “What—who was that last
+fellow they cheered?” he faltered.
+
+The policeman looked down impatiently.
+
+“Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI—THE UNDERSTUDY
+
+
+“_Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!_” chanted Farview
+imploringly, from across the trampled field.
+
+Yet above the hoarse entreaty came Hop Kendrick’s confident voice: “All
+right, Hillman’s! Make it go! Here’s where we win it! Kick formation!
+Turner back!” And then: “25—78—26—194! 12—31—9—”
+
+But it was Hop himself who dashed straight forward and squirmed ahead
+over one white line before the whistle blew.
+
+“Fourth down!” called the referee. “About four and a half!”
+
+“Come on!” cried Hop. “Make it go this time! Hard, fellows, hard! We’ve
+got ’em going!” He threw an arm over the shoulder of the new substitute.
+Those near by saw the latter shake his head, saw Hop draw back and stare
+as if aghast at the insubordination. Farview protested to the referee
+against the delay, and the latter called warningly. Hop nodded, and
+raised his voice again:
+
+“Kick formation! Turner back!”
+
+Then he walked back to where the substitute stood and dropped to his
+knees.
+
+“Place-kick!” grunted a man at Ned’s elbow. “Can’t miss it from there if
+the line holds!”
+
+Ned, in a perfect agony of suspense, waited. Hop was calling his
+signals. There was a pause. Then: “16—32—7—”
+
+Back came the ball on a long pass from Kewpie. It was high, but Hop got
+it, pulled it down, and pointed it. Ned saw the kicker step forward.
+Then he closed his eyes.
+
+There was a wild outburst from all around him, and he opened them again.
+The ball was not in sight, but a frantic little man in a gray sweater
+was waving his arms like a semaphore behind the farther goal. Along the
+space between stand and side-line a quartette of youths leaped crazily,
+flourishing great blue megaphones or throwing them in air. Above the
+stand blue banners waved and caps tossed about. On the scoreboard at the
+far end of the field the legend read: “Hillman’s 10—Visitors 9.”
+
+A moment later, a boy with a wide grin on his tired face and nerves that
+were still jangling made his way along Summit Street in the direction of
+school. Behind him the cheers and shouts still broke forth at intervals,
+for there yet remained some three minutes of playing time. Once, in the
+sudden stillness between cheers, he heard plainly the hollow thump of a
+punted ball. More shouts then, indeterminate, dying away suddenly. The
+boy walked quickly, for he had a reason for wanting to gain the security
+of his room before the crowd flowed back from the field. At last, at the
+school gate, he paused and looked back and listened. From the distant
+scene of battle came a faint surge of sound that rose and fell and rose
+again and went on unceasingly as long as he could hear.
+
+Back in Number 16, Ned threw his cap aside and dropped into the nearest
+chair. There was much that he understood, yet much more that was still a
+mystery to him. One thing, however, he dared hope, and that was that the
+disgrace of having failed his fellows had passed him miraculously by! As
+to the rest, he pondered and speculated vainly. He felt horribly limp
+and weary while he waited for Laurie to come. And after a while he heard
+cheering, and arose and went to a window. There could no longer be any
+doubt as to the final outcome of the game. Between the sidewalk throngs,
+dancing from side to side of the street with linked arms, came
+Hillman’s, triumphant!
+
+[Illustration: “Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.”]
+
+And here and there, borne on the shoulders of joyous comrades, bobbed a
+captured player. There were more than a dozen of them, some taking the
+proceeding philosophically, others squirming and fighting for freedom.
+Now and then one succeeded in getting free, but recapture was invariably
+his fate. At least, this was true with a single exception while Ned
+watched. The exception was a boy with red-brown hair, who, having
+managed to slip from his enthusiastic friends, dashed through the throng
+on the sidewalk, leaped a fence, cut across a corner, and presently sped
+through the gate on Washington Street, pursuit defeated. A minute later,
+flushed and breathless, he flung open the door of Number 16.
+
+At sight of Ned, Laurie’s expression of joyous satisfaction faded. He
+halted inside the door and closed it slowly behind him. At last,
+“Hello,” he said, listlessly.
+
+“Hello,” answered Ned. Then there was a long silence. Outside, in front
+of the gymnasium, they were cheering the victorious team, player by
+player. At last, “We won, didn’t we?” asked Ned.
+
+Laurie nodded as if the thing were a matter of total indifference. He
+still wore football togs, and he frowningly viewed a great hole in one
+blue stocking as he seated himself on his bed.
+
+“Well,” he said, finally, “what happened to you?”
+
+Ned told him, at first haltingly, and then with more assurance as he saw
+the look of relief creep into Laurie’s face. As he ended his story,
+Laurie’s countenance expressed only a great and joyous amusement.
+
+“Neddie,” he chuckled, “you’ll be the death of me yet! You came pretty
+near to it to-day, too, partner!” He sobered as his thoughts went back
+to a moment some fifteen minutes before, and he shook his head.
+“Partner, this thing of understudying a football hero is mighty wearing.
+I’m through for all time. After this, Ned, you’ll have to provide your
+own substitute! I’m done!”
+
+“How—why—how did you happen to think of it?” asked Ned, rather humbly.
+“Weren’t you—scared?”
+
+“Scared? Have a heart! I was frightened to death every minute I sat on
+the bench. And then, when Mulford yelped at me, I—well, I simply passed
+away altogether! I’m at least ten years older than I was this morning,
+Neddie, and I’ll bet I’ve got gray hairs all over my poor old head. You
+see, Murray as much as said that it was all day with you if you didn’t
+show up. Kewpie was a bit down-hearted about it, too. I waited around
+until half-past one or after, thinking every moment that you’d turn
+up—hoping you would, anyhow; although, to be right honest, Neddie, I
+had a sort of hunch, after the way you acted and talked, that maybe
+you’d gone off on purpose. Anyhow, about one o’clock I got to thinking,
+and the more I thought the more I got into the notion that something had
+to be done if the honor of the Turners was to be—be upheld. And the
+only thing I could think of was putting on your togs and bluffing it
+through. Kewpie owned up that he’d been talking rot last night—that he
+didn’t really think you’d be called on to-day. And I decided to take a
+chance. Of course, if I’d known what was going to happen I guess I
+wouldn’t have had the courage; but I didn’t know. I thought all I’d have
+to do was sit on the bench and watch.
+
+“So I went over to the gym and got your togs on, and streaked out to the
+field, I guess I looked as much like you as you do, for none of the
+fellows knew that I wasn’t you. I was careful not to talk much. Mr.
+Mulford gave me thunder, and so did Murray, and Joe Stevenson looked
+pretty black. I just said I was sorry, and there wasn’t much time to
+explain, anyway, because the game was starting about the time I got
+there. Once, in the third period, when Slavin was hurt, Mulford looked
+along the bench and stopped when he got to me, and I thought my time had
+come. But I guess he wanted to punish me for being late. Anyway, Boessel
+got the job. When the blow did fall, Neddie, I was sick clean through.
+My tummy sort of folded up and my spine was about as stiff as—as a
+drink of water! I wanted to run, or crawl under the bench or something.
+‘You’ve pleased yourself so far to-day, Turner,’ said Mulford. ‘Now
+suppose you do something for the school. Kendrick will call for a kick.
+You see that it gets over, or I’ll have something to say to you later.
+Remember this, though: not a word to any one but the referee until after
+the next play. Now get out there and _win this game!_’
+
+“Nice thing to say to a chap who’d never kicked a football in his life
+except around the street! But, gee, Neddie, what could I do? I’d started
+the thing, and I had to see it through. Of course I thought that maybe
+I’d ought to fess up that I wasn’t me—or, rather, you—and let some one
+else kick. But I knew there wasn’t any one else they could depend on,
+and I decided that if some one had to miss the goal, it might as well be
+me—or you. Besides, there was the honor of the Turners! So I sneaked
+out, with my heart in my boots,—your boots, I mean,—and Hop called for
+a line play, and then another one, and I thought maybe I was going to
+get off without making a fool of myself. But no such luck. ‘Take all the
+time you want, Nid,’ said Hop. ‘We’ll hold ’em for you. Drop it over,
+for the love of mud! We’ve got to have this game!’ ‘Drop it?’ said I.
+‘Not on your life, Hop! Make it a place-kick or I’ll never have a
+chance!’ ‘What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘I mean I can’t drop-kick
+to-day.’ I guess something in my voice or the way I said it put him on,
+for he looked at me pretty sharp. Still, maybe he didn’t guess the
+truth, either, for he let me have my way and let me kick.
+
+“After that”—Laurie half closed his eyes and shook his head
+slowly—“after that I don’t really know what did happen. I have a sort
+of a hazy recollection of Hop shouting some signals that didn’t mean a
+thing in my young life, and kneeling on the ground a couple of yards
+ahead of me. I didn’t dare look at the goal, though I knew it was ahead
+of me and about twenty yards away. Then there was a brown streak, and
+things began to move, and I moved with them. I suppose I swung my
+foot,-probably my right one, though it may have been my left,—and then
+I closed my eyes tight and waited for some one to kill me. Next thing I
+knew, I was being killed—or I thought I thought I was, for a second. It
+turned out, though, that the fellows weren’t really killing me; they
+were just beating me black and blue to show they were pleased.
+
+“Of course, it was all the biggest piece of luck that ever happened,
+Ned. Hop aimed the ball just right, and somehow or other I managed to
+kick it. Maybe any one would have done just as well, because I guess it
+was an easy goal. Anyway, the honor of the Turners was safe!”
+
+“You’re a regular brick,” said Ned, a bit huskily. “What—what happened
+afterward? I didn’t stay.”
+
+“Afterward Hop looked at me kind of queer and said, ‘I guess that’ll do
+for you, Turner,’ and I beat it away from there as fast as I knew how,
+and Mulford sent in some other poor unfortunate. There were only half a
+dozen plays after that, and we kicked whenever we got the ball.”
+
+“Do you think any one but Hop found out?” asked Ned, anxiously.
+
+“Not a one. And I’m not sure, mind you, that Hop did. You see, he didn’t
+_say_ anything. Only, he did call me ‘Nid’ at first, and then ‘Turner’
+the next time. I haven’t seen him since. I guess I never will know,
+unless I ask him. One thing’s sure, though, Ned, and that is that Hop
+won’t talk.”
+
+“You don’t think I’d ought to fess up?” asked Ned.
+
+“I do not,” replied Laurie stoutly. “What’s the good? It wasn’t your
+fault if you went to sleep out in the country. If any one’s to blame,
+it’s me. I oughtn’t to have hoaxed them. No, sir; if Mulford or any one
+says anything, just you tell them you fell asleep and couldn’t help
+getting there late. But I don’t believe any one will ask questions now.
+They’re all too pleased and excited. But, gee, Neddie! I certainly am
+glad I made that goal instead of missing it. I’d be a pretty mean
+feeling pup to-night if I hadn’t!”
+
+“It was wonderful,” mused Ned. “You putting it over, I mean. With all
+that crowd looking on, and Farview shouting—”
+
+“Shouting? I didn’t hear them. I didn’t know whether there was any one
+around just then! I had troubles of my own, partner! Know something?
+Well, I think there’s the chap who kicked that goal.” Laurie raised his
+right foot and displayed one of Ned’s scuffed football shoes. “I guess I
+just sort of left things to him and he did the business. Good old Mister
+Shoe!”
+
+Ned jumped to his feet and pulled Laurie from the bed. “For the love of
+lemons,” he cried, “get those togs off before any one comes in!”
+
+“Gee, that’s so!” Laurie worked feverishly, while Ned stumbled over a
+chair and turned the key in the lock.
+
+“A fine pair of idiots we are!” exclaimed Ned, as he ripped Laurie’s
+shirt off for him. “Suppose Hop or Kewpie had come in while we were
+sitting here!”
+
+Hillman’s spent the rest of the evening in celebration. In the
+dining-hall the appearance of any member of the squad was the signal for
+hand-clapping and cheers, and when Ned entered, followed by Laurie, the
+applause was deafening. Ned showed himself to be a very modest and
+retiring hero, for he fairly scuttled to his seat, and kept his head
+bent over his plate long after the applause had died away. Then,
+stealing an unhappy glance at Laurie, he found that youth grinning
+broadly, and was the recipient of a most meaningful wink. After supper,
+in the corridor, the twins ran squarely into Hop Kendrick. Ned tried to
+pull aside, but Laurie stood his ground. Hop was plainly a very happy
+youth to-night, although even when happiest he never entirely lost his
+look of earnest gravity.
+
+“Well, we did it, Nid!” he said joyfully, clapping that youth on the
+shoulder. “That was a corking kick of yours, son!”
+
+Ned stammered something utterly unintelligible, but Laurie came to the
+rescue: “Ned says it was the way you pointed the ball that won that
+goal, Hop,” he said casually. “He’s mighty modest about it.”
+
+Hop shot a quick glance at the speaker, and Ned declared afterward that
+there was a smile behind it. But all he said was: “Oh, well, pointing
+isn’t everything, Nod. _Some one’s_ got to kick it!”
+
+When he had gone on, Ned and Laurie viewed each other questioningly.
+“Think he knows?” asked Ned. Laurie shook his head frowningly. “You’ve
+got me, partner!” he answered.
+
+And, because neither asked Hop Kendrick outright, neither ever did know!
+
+There were songs and speeches and a general jollification after supper,
+ending in a parade of cheering, singing youths who marched through the
+town from end to end, and at last drew up outside Doctor Hillman’s porch
+and shouted until that gentleman appeared and responded. The Doctor’s
+words were few, but they hit the spot, and when there had been another
+long cheer for him, and another long cheer for the team, and a final
+mighty cheer for the school, the happy boys called it a day and sought
+the dormitories.
+
+Ned was just dropping off to sleep that night when Laurie’s voice
+reached him through the darkness.
+
+“Ned!” called Laurie.
+
+“Huh?”
+
+“Are you awake?”
+
+“Uh-huh.”
+
+“Listen. It’s a fortunate thing to be a twin.”
+
+There was a long moment of silence. Then Ned’s voice came sleepily:
+
+“’Cause if one twin can’t the other twin kin!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII—THE BOYS MAKE A PRESENT
+
+
+The week or so succeeding the Farview game seemed like an anticlimax.
+The bottom had sort of dropped out of things and there was no immediate
+excitement to look forward to. The weather became as miserable as
+weather possibly could, the slight snowfall that followed the rain of
+Thanksgiving Day lasting only long enough to be seen by the early
+risers. Perhaps it was well that lack of events and inclement weather
+ruled, for Ned and a good many other boys in school were no worse for an
+opportunity to apply themselves undisturbedly to their studies.
+Basketball candidates were called the first Monday in December, and the
+twins held a serious conference on the question of reporting. Ned, who
+felt rather flat since there was no more football, was half inclined to
+go in for the game, and would have had Laurie insisted. But Laurie voted
+that for the present the Turners had done sufficient in the athletic
+line, that the honor of the family demanded no further sacrifices on the
+altar of duty. So Ned abandoned the idea and talked of trying for the
+crew in the spring.
+
+When December was a week old, the fellows set their gaze on the
+Christmas recess, which this year began on Wednesday, three days before
+Christmas, and lasted until the 2d of January. Eleven days are not
+sufficient to make a trip across the continent and back advisable,
+although the twins figured that, with the best of fortune, they would be
+able to reach Santa Lucia in time for dinner Christmas night. On the
+other hand, the missing of one connection would delay their arrival
+until the following afternoon, and, as Laurie pointed out, they were
+fairly certain to be held up somewhere on the way, and a sleeping-car
+wasn’t exactly an ideal place in which to spend the holiday! Besides,
+there was a noticeable lack of encouragement from home. It had been
+accepted beforehand that the boys were to remain at the school during
+the recess, and nothing in Mr. Turner’s fortnightly letters hinted that
+he had changed his mind.
+
+“I’d just as lief stay here, anyway,” declared Ned. “We can have a lot
+more fun. Maybe there’ll be a bunch of snow, and I’m dying to try
+skiing.”
+
+“You bet! And skating, too! And then there’s that other scheme. Mustn’t
+forget that, Neddie.”
+
+“You mean—”
+
+“Yes. Didn’t you say we’d do it during vacation?”
+
+“Sure! It—it’ll take quite a lot of money, though, Laurie. And we’ll
+have presents to buy for Dad and Aunt Emmie and the cousins—”
+
+“The cousins get Christmas cards, and that’s all they do get,”
+interrupted Laurie, decisively. “That’s all they ever give us, and I’d
+rather spend my money on something that’ll really—really benefit some
+one. I guess Dad’ll send us some more money, too, for Christmas. We can
+do it, all right. I’ve got nearly seven dollars right now. I haven’t
+spent hardly any money this month.”
+
+“All right. Some day soon we’ll go downtown and find out how much it’s
+going to cost and what we’ll need and everything. I say, we can get Bob
+to help us, too!”
+
+“Rather! And three or four other fellows, I guess. Every one likes the
+Widow, and George says there will be five or six fellows here during
+recess. He was here last year, and he says he had a dandy time.”
+
+“Let’s get George this afternoon and get the thing started. We can find
+out the—the area and ask the man how much we’ll need.”
+
+“Sure! And we can buy it and store it at Bob’s. Then all we’ll have to
+do will be carry it over the fence. I’ll go down and see if I can find
+him. Look here, Neddie. Why don’t we do it before Christmas and make it
+a sort of Christmas present? Say we worked hard all day Thursday and
+Friday—”
+
+“Great! Only if it snowed—”
+
+Laurie’s face fell. “Gee, that’s so! I suppose we couldn’t do it if it
+snowed. Or rained. Or if it was frightfully cold.”
+
+“They say it doesn’t get real cold here until after New Year’s,” said
+Ned, reassuringly. “But of course it might snow or rain. Well, we’ll do
+it in time for Christmas if we can. If we can’t, we’ll do it for New
+Year’s. I’ll bet she’ll be tickled to death. I say, though! We never
+found out about the color!”
+
+“I did,” answered Laurie modestly. “I asked Polly. She said white.”
+
+“White! Geewhillikins, Laurie, that makes it harder, doesn’t it? We’d
+have to put on two coats!”
+
+“Think so?” Laurie frowned. “I guess we would. That would take twice as
+long, eh? Look here; maybe—maybe I can get Polly to change her mind!”
+
+“That’s likely, you chump!” Ned scowled thoughtfully. Finally, “I tell
+you what,” he said. “Suppose we went around there sometime, and talked
+with Mrs. Deane, and told her how nice we think blue looks and how sort
+of—of distinctive! Gee, it wouldn’t be any trick at all to make it
+blue; but white—” He shook his head despondently.
+
+“Cheer up!” said Laurie. “I’ve got the dope, partner! Listen. We’ll tell
+them that it ought to be blue because blue’s the school color and all
+that. Mrs. Deane thinks a heap of Hillman’s, and she’ll fall for it as
+sure as shooting. So’ll Polly! Come on! Let’s find George and get the
+thing started!”
+
+“Better get Bob to go with us, too. He said something about wanting to
+pay his share of it, so we’d better let him in right from the start.
+After all, we don’t want to hog it, Laurie!”
+
+A fortnight later the exodus came. Of the four-score lads who lived at
+Hillman’s, all but eight took their departure that Wednesday morning,
+and Ned and Laurie and George watched the last group drive off for the
+station with feelings of genuine satisfaction. Life at school during the
+eleven days of recess promised to be busy and enjoyable, and they were
+eager to see the decks cleared, so to speak, and to start the new way of
+living. Ned and Laurie had had plenty of invitations for Christmas week.
+Both Kewpie and Lee Murdock had earnestly desired their society at their
+respective homes, and there had been others less insistent but possibly
+quite as cordial invitations. But neither one had weakened. George half
+promised one of the boys to visit him for a few days after Christmas,
+but later he canceled his acceptance.
+
+Besides George and the twins, there remained at school five other
+fellows who, because they lived at a distance and railway fares were
+high, or for other reasons, found it expedient to accept Doctor
+Hillman’s hospitality. None of the five, two juniors, one lower middler,
+and two upper middlers, were known to the twins more than casually when
+recess began; but eating together three times a day and being thrown in
+one another’s society at other times soon made the acquaintance much
+closer, and all proved to be decent, likable chaps.
+
+Meals were served at a corner table in West Hall, and during recess
+there were seldom fewer than three of the faculty present. That may
+sound depressing, but in vacation-time an instructor becomes quite a
+human, jovial person, and the scant dozen around the table enjoyed
+themselves hugely. In the evening Doctor Hillman held open house, and
+Miss Tabitha showed a genius for providing methods of entertainment.
+Sometimes they popped corn in the fireplace in the cozy living-room,
+sometimes they roasted apples. Once it was chestnuts that jumped on the
+hearth. Then, too, Miss Tabitha was a past mistress in the art of making
+fudge, and on two occasions Mr. Barrett, the mathematics instructor,
+displayed such a sweet tooth that the boys lost the last of their awe
+and “ragged” him without mercy. Several times the Doctor read aloud,
+choosing, to the boys’ surprise, a corking detective novel that had them
+squirming on the edges of their chairs. Toward the last of the vacation,
+Laurie confided to Ned and George that he wished recess was just
+beginning.
+
+To Ned’s and Laurie’s great disappointment, neither snow nor ice
+appeared and the weather remained merely briskly cold, with sometimes a
+day like Indian summer. But I am getting ahead of my story, which really
+comes to an end on Christmas Day.
+
+More than a week before the closing of school, the four conspirators had
+finished their preparations for the task that was to provide the Widow
+Deane with a novel Christmas present. In Bob’s cellar were many cans
+containing blue paint, white paint, linseed oil, and turpentine. There
+were brushes there, too, and a scraper, and a roll of cotton rags
+provided by Polly. For, in the end, it had become necessary to acquaint
+Polly with the project. Against Bob’s back fence reposed all the
+ladders, of varying lengths, that the neighborhood afforded. Wednesday
+evening Ned and Laurie and George herded the other boys into George’s
+room, and explained the scheme and asked for volunteers. They got five
+most enthusiastic ones.
+
+Nine o’clock the next morning was set as the time for the beginning of
+the work, and at that hour nine rather disreputably-attired youths
+appeared in Mrs. Deane’s yard, arriving by way of the back fence, and
+began their assault. The first the Widow knew of what was happening was
+when, being then occupied with the task of tidying up the sleeping-room
+on the second floor, she was startled to see the head and shoulders of a
+boy appear outside her window. Her exclamation of alarm gave place to
+murmurs of bewilderment as the supposed burglar contented himself with
+lifting the two shutters from their hinges and passing them down the
+ladder to some unseen accomplice. Mrs. Deane looked forth. In the garden
+was what at first glimpse looked like a convention of tramps. They were
+armed with ladders and brushes and pots of paint, and they were already
+very busy. Across two trestles set on the grass plot, the stolen
+shutters were laid as fast as they were taken down. One boy, flourishing
+a broad-bladed implement, scraped the rough surfaces. A second plied a
+big round brush, dusting diligently. Numbers three and four, as soon as
+the first two operatives retired, attacked with brushes dripping with
+white paint. In almost no time at all the first shutter was off the
+trestles and leaning, fresh and spotless, against the fence. Every
+instant another shutter appeared. Mrs. Deane gazed in fascinated
+amazement. One after another, she recognized the miscreants: the two
+Turner boys, George Watson, Mr. Starling’s son, Hal Goring, the Stanton
+boy, and the rest; but, although recognition brought reassurance,
+bewilderment remained, and she hurried downstairs as fast as ever she
+could go.
+
+Polly was on the back porch, a very disturbed and somewhat indignant
+Towser in her arms, evidently a party to the undertaking, and to her
+Mrs. Deane breathlessly appealed.
+
+“Polly! What are they doing?” she gasped.
+
+“You’ll have to ask the boys, Mama.” Polly’s eyes were dancing. “Nid,
+here’s Mama, and she wants to know what you’re doing!”
+
+Nid hurried up, a dripping brush in one hand and a smear of white paint
+across one cheek, followed by Laurie. The others paused at their various
+tasks to watch smilingly.
+
+“Painting the house, Mrs. Deane!”
+
+“Painting the house! My house? Why—why—what—who—”
+
+“Yes’m. There’s the blue paint. It’s as near like the old as we could
+find. You don’t think it’s too dark, do you?”
+
+“But I don’t understand, Nid Turner!” said Mrs. Deane helplessly. “Who
+told you to? Who’s going to pay for it?”
+
+“It’s all paid for, ma’am. It—it’s a sort of Christmas present from
+us—from the school. You—you don’t mind, do you?”
+
+“Well, I never did!” Mrs. Deane looked from Ned to Laurie, her mouth
+quivering. “I—I don’t know what to say. I guess I’ll—I’ll go see if
+any one’s—in the shop, Polly. Did you think you—heard the bell?” Mrs.
+Deane’s eyes were frankly wet as she turned hurriedly away and
+disappeared inside. Ned viewed Polly anxiously.
+
+“Do you think she—doesn’t like it?” he half whispered.
+
+Polly shook her head and laughed softly, although her own eyes were not
+quite dry. “Of course she likes it, you stupid boy! She just didn’t know
+what to say. She’ll be back pretty soon, after she’s had a little cry.”
+
+“Oh!” said Ned and Laurie in chorus, their faces brightening; and Laurie
+added apologetically: “Gee, we didn’t want to make her cry, Polly!”
+
+“That sort of a cry doesn’t hurt,” said Polly.
+
+Afterward Mrs. Deane said a great deal, and said it very sweetly, and
+the boys got more or less embarrassed, and were heartily glad when she
+drew Ned to her and kissed him, much to that youth’s distress, and the
+incident ended in laughter. By noon the shutters were done, and nine
+industrious amateur painters were swarming over the back of the little
+house. I’m not going to tell you that the job was done as perfectly as
+Sprague and Currie, Painters and Paper-hangers, would have done it, but
+you’re to believe that it was done much quicker and at a far greater
+saving of money! And when it was finished no one except a professional
+would ever have known the difference. Perhaps there was more blue and
+white paint scattered around the landscape than was absolutely
+necessary, and it always remained a mystery how Antoinette managed to
+get her right ear looking like a bit of Italian sky, for every one
+professed ignorance and Antoinette was apparently well protected from
+spatters. (It took Polly more than a week to restore the rabbit to her
+original appearance.)
+
+When the early winter twilight fell and it became necessary to knock off
+work for the day, the blue painting was more than half done and, unless
+weather prevented, it was certain that the entire task would be finished
+by to-morrow evening. Mrs. Deane served five-o’clock tea,—only it
+happened to be four-o’clock tea instead,—and nine very, very hungry
+lads did full justice to the repast, and the little room behind the
+store held a merry party. Perhaps the prevailing odor of paint detracted
+somewhat from Mrs. Deane’s and Polly’s enjoyment of the refreshments,
+but you may be certain they made no mention of the fact.
+
+That night the boys viewed the cloudy sky apprehensively. Laurie, who
+knew little about it, declared dubiously that it smelt like snow. But
+when morning came, although the cloudiness persisted most of the day,
+the weather remained kindly, with just enough frost in the air to chill
+feet and nip idle fingers and to give an added zest to labor. Very
+little time was wasted on luncheon, and at two o’clock the last slap of
+blue paint had been applied and the more difficult work of doing the
+white trim began. Fortunately, there were only eleven windows and two
+doors, and although “drawing” the sashes was slow and finicking work,
+with nine willing hands hard at it the end came shortly after dusk,
+when, watched by eight impatient companions, young Haskell, one of the
+junior class boys, with trembling fingers drew his brush along the last
+few inches of a front window, and then, because he was quite keyed up
+and because it was much too dark to see well, celebrated the culmination
+of his efforts by putting a foot squarely into a can of white paint!
+
+When first-aid methods had been applied, he was allowed, on promise to
+put only one foot to the floor, to accompany the rest inside and
+announce to a delighted and slightly tremulous Mrs. Deane that the work
+was completed. There was a real celebration then, with more piping-hot
+tea and lots of perfectly scrumptious cream-puffs,—besides less
+enticing bread-and-butter sandwiches,—and Mrs. Deane tried hard to
+thank the boys and couldn’t quite do it, and Polly failed almost as
+dismally, and Laurie made a wonderful speech that no one understood very
+well, except for the general meaning, and nine flushed and very happy
+youths cheered long and loudly for Mrs. Deane, and finally departed
+merrily into the winter twilight, calling back many a “Merry Christmas”
+as they went.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII—THE SECRET PASSAGE
+
+
+Christmas Day dawned clear and mild, a green Christmas if ever there was
+one. And yet, in spite of the absence of such traditional accompaniments
+as snow and ice, the spirit of the season was there in abundance. Ned
+and Laurie, wakening early to the sound of church bells, felt Christmasy
+right from the first conscious moment. When they hastened down the hall
+for their baths, they could hear George and Hal Goring on the floor
+below uniting in what they fondly believed was song. Later, at
+breakfast, beside a perfectly wonderful repast in which chicken and
+little crisp sausages and hot, crisp waffles played leading rôles, the
+Doctor and Miss Tabitha had placed at each plate a Christmas card tied
+by a tiny blue ribbon to a diminutive painter’s brush! Later on there
+was to be a tree in the Doctor’s living-room. In fact, the tree was
+already there, and the boys had spent much of the preceding evening
+trimming it and placing around its base inexpensive gifts of a joking
+nature for one another and the Doctor and Miss Tabitha and the two
+instructors who were there.
+
+Laurie and Ned had exchanged presents with each other and had received
+several from home, not the least welcome of which was a check from their
+father. And they had bought small gifts for George and Bob. Also, though
+you needn’t tell it around school, Laurie had purchased a most
+odoriferous and ornate bottle of perfume for Polly! So when, shortly
+after breakfast, Ned suggested that Laurie take Bob’s present over to
+him, Laurie evinced entire willingness to perform the errand. That he
+carried not one gift but two in his pockets was, however, beyond Ned’s
+knowledge. A cheerful whistling from the back of the house drew Laurie
+past the front entrance, and he found Bob, attired in any but festal
+garments, swinging open the bulkhead doors. A pair of old gray trousers
+and a disreputable brown sweater formed most of his costume. At sight of
+Laurie he gave a joyful whoop.
+
+“Merry Christmas!” he called. “I was going over to see you in a minute.
+Thomas is in bed with a cold or something, and I’m furnace-man and
+general factotle—”
+
+“Factotum, you mean,” laughed Laurie.
+
+“All right! As you fellows say, what do I care? I don’t own it. Now
+you’re here, you can just give me a hand with this load of junk. Dad
+says it doesn’t look shipshape for Christmas.” Bob indicated more than a
+dozen paint-cans, empty, partly empty, or unopened, and a mess of
+brushes, paddles, and rags that they had set there last evening. “I
+suppose a lot of these might as well be thrown away, but we’ll dump the
+whole caboodle down in the cellar for now.”
+
+“All right,” agreed Laurie. “First, though, here’s something that Ned
+and I thought you might like. It isn’t anything much, you know, Bob;
+just a—a trinket.”
+
+“For me?” Bob took the little packet, and removed the paper and then the
+lid, disclosing a pair of silver cuff-links lying in a nest of
+cotton-wool. As Laurie said, they weren’t much, but they were neat and
+the jeweler had made a very good job of the three plain block letters,
+R. D. S., that he had engraved on them. “Gee, they’re corking!”
+exclaimed Bob, with unmistakable sincerity. “I needed them, too, Nod. I
+lost one of a pair just the other day, and—”
+
+“I know you did. That’s why we got those.”
+
+“Well, I’m awfully much obliged. They’re great. I’ve got a couple of
+little things upstairs for you chaps. They aren’t nearly so nice as
+these, but I’ll get ’em—”
+
+“Wait till we finish this job,” said Laurie. “Grab a handful and come
+on. Is Thomas very sick?”
+
+“I guess not,” replied Bob, as he followed the other down the steps. “He
+ate some breakfast, but aunt thought he’d better stay in bed. I had a
+great time with the furnace this morning. Got up at half-past six and
+shoveled coal to beat the band!”
+
+“Where do you want to put these?” asked Laurie.
+
+“Anywhere, I guess. Hold on; let’s dump ’em on the shelves in the closet
+there. Then they’ll be out of the way. Some day we’ll clean the cans all
+out, and maybe we’ll get enough to paint that arbor we’re going to
+build. Here you are.”
+
+Bob led the way to a small room built against the rear wall of the big
+cellar. Designed for a preserve closet, its shelves had probably long
+been empty of aught save dust, and the door, wide open, hung from one
+hinge. It was some six feet broad and perhaps five feet deep, built of
+matched boards. Before Bob entered the cobwebby doorway with his load of
+cans, its only contents were an accumulation of empty preserve-jars in a
+wooden box set on the cement floor beneath a lower shelf at the back.
+There were eight shelves across the rear wall, divided in the center by
+a vertical board into two tiers. Bob placed his load on a lower shelf
+and Laurie put his on the shelf above. As he drew away he noticed that
+the shelf appeared to have worked out from the boards at the back, and
+he gave it a blow on the edge with the flat of one hand. It slipped back
+into place, but, to his surprise, it came forward again an inch or two,
+and all the other shelves in that tier came with it!
+
+“Hey!” said Laurie, startled.
+
+Bob, at the doorway, turned. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
+
+“Nothing, only—” Laurie took hold of the shelf above the loosened one
+and pulled. It yielded a little, and so did the other shelves and the
+rear wall of the cubicle, but it was only a matter of less than an inch.
+Bob, at his side, looked on interestedly.
+
+“That’s funny,” he said. “Push on it.”
+
+Laurie pushed, and the tier went back a couple of inches. “Looks like
+this side was separate from the rest,” said Laurie. “What’s the idea of
+having it come out like that?”
+
+“Search me!” answered Bob. “Pull it toward you again and let me have a
+look.” A second later he exclaimed: “The whole side is loose, Nod, but
+it can’t come out because the ends of the shelves strike this partition
+board! Try it again!” Laurie obeyed, moving the tier back and forth
+three or four times as far as it would go. Bob shook his head in
+puzzlement, his gaze roving around the dim interior. Then, “Look here,”
+he said. “The shelves on the side aren’t on a level with the back ones,
+Nod.”
+
+“What of it?”
+
+“Nothing, maybe; only, if the back swung out the side shelves wouldn’t
+stop it! See what I mean?”
+
+“Not exactly. Anyhow, it doesn’t swing out, so what’s the—”
+
+“Hold on!” Bob sprang forward and seized the edge of a shelf in the
+right-hand tier close to the partition board, and pulled. It readily
+yielded an inch, but no more.
+
+“Wait!” Laurie bent and pulled aside the box of jars. “Now!”
+
+Then, as Bob tugged, to their amazement the right-hand tier swung toward
+them, its lower edge scraping on the cement floor, and the left-hand
+tier swung with it, the whole back wall of the closet, shelves and all,
+opening toward them like a pair of double doors!
+
+“Gee!” whispered Laurie. “What do you suppose—”
+
+“Pull them wide open and let’s find out,” said Bob recklessly.
+
+When the two sides were open as far as they would go, there was an
+aperture between them some three feet wide. Beyond it was darkness,
+though, as they gazed, the stones of the cellar wall took shape dimly.
+Then Laurie seized Bob’s arm.
+
+“Look!” he whispered excitedly. Behind, where the left-hand tier of
+shelves had stood, was a blacker patch about three feet high by two feet
+wide, which, as they stared in fascination, evolved itself into an
+opening in the wall.
+
+“Know what I think?” asked Bob, in low tones. “I think we’ve found the
+miser’s hiding-place, Nod!”
+
+“Honest? Maybe it’s just a—a drain or something. Got a match?”
+
+“There are some over by the furnace. Hold your horses!” Bob hurried out,
+and was back in a moment and was standing at the opening between the
+doors with a lighted match held toward the opening in the wall. As the
+little light grew they saw that the stones of the wall had been removed
+from a space of a foot above the floor and three feet high and some two
+feet wide. Around the opening so made cement had been applied in the
+form of a smooth casing.
+
+The match flickered and went out, and in the succeeding gloom the two
+boys stared at each other with wide eyes.
+
+“Would you dare go in there?” asked Laurie.
+
+“Sure! Why not? It can’t be anything but a sort of cave underground.
+Wait till I get a candle.”
+
+“A lantern would be better,” suggested Laurie, viewing the hole
+dubiously.
+
+“That’s so, and there’s one here somewhere. I noticed it the other day.”
+Bob’s voice came from the cellar beyond, and Laurie heard him walking
+around out there. Then, “I’ve got it!” Bob called. “There’s oil in it,
+too! Now we’ll have a look!”
+
+Laurie heard the chimney of the lantern squeak as it was forced up and
+then drop into place again. Then a wan light came toward the closet, and
+Bob appeared, triumphant and excited. “Wait till I turn it up a bit.
+There we are! Come on!”
+
+They passed through between the doors, Bob leading, and stooped before
+the hole in the wall. Bob held the lantern inside, and Laurie peered
+over his shoulder. “Gee, it’s high,” whispered the latter.
+
+“Yes, and it isn’t a cave at all; it’s a tunnel!” said Bob, in awed
+tones. “What do you say?”
+
+“I’ll go, if you will,” replied Laurie, stoutly; and without much
+enthusiasm Bob ducked his head and crawled through. Past the two-foot
+wall was a passage, more than head-high and about a yard in width, stone
+walled and arched, that led straight ahead farther than the light of the
+lantern penetrated. The walls were dry, but the earthen floor was damp
+to the touch. There was a musty odor, though the air in there seemed
+fresh.
+
+“Where do you suppose it goes to?” asked Bob, in a hushed voice.
+
+“I can’t imagine. But it runs straight back from the cellar, and so it
+must pass under the garden. Let’s—let’s go on, Bob.”
+
+“Sure! Only I thought we were going to find old Coventry’s treasure!”
+
+“How do you know we aren’t?” asked Laurie.
+
+“That’s so! Maybe he buried it under the garden.” Their footfalls
+sounded clearly on the hard-packed earth floor as they went ahead.
+Suddenly Bob, in the lead, uttered an exclamation, and Laurie jumped a
+foot and then hurried forward to where the other was standing. Beside
+him, its point buried in the floor of the tunnel, was the lost crowbar!
+
+“What do you know?” gasped Bob. “We’re under the farther end of the
+arbor. That bar came through between those stones up here.” He touch the
+crevice in the arched roof with a finger. “See the dirt it brought down
+with it? Well, that explains that mystery!”
+
+“Yes, but—where does this thing go to, Bob?”
+
+“Let’s find out. It can’t go much farther, because the arbor was only
+about forty feet from the back fence.”
+
+But they went that forty feet and perhaps forty more before the wavering
+light of the lantern showed them a stout wooden door across their path.
+Formed of two-inch planking and strengthened with three broad cleats, it
+was hinged to a frame of concrete. It wasn’t a big door, but it looked
+very formidable to the two boys who stood there and viewed it dubiously
+in the yellow glare of the lantern; for a big square iron lock held it
+firmly in place.
+
+“Guess we don’t go any farther,” said Bob, dryly.
+
+“Maybe the key’s here somewhere,” Laurie suggested; and, although Bob
+scoffed at the suggestion, they searched thoroughly but without success.
+
+“We could bust it,” Bob said; “only maybe we haven’t any right to.”
+
+“I don’t see why not, Bob. We discovered it. Let’s!”
+
+“We-ell, but one of us’ll have to go for a hammer or something.”
+
+“Sure; I’ll go.”
+
+“And leave me here in the dark? I guess not!”
+
+“We’ll both go, then. Hold on! What’s the matter with the crowbar?”
+
+“Of course! I never thought of that! I’ll fetch it!” The light receded
+down the tunnel until it was small and dim, and Laurie, left alone in
+front of the mysterious portal, felt none too happy. Of course there was
+nothing to be afraid of, but he was awfully glad when the light drew
+nearer again and Bob returned. “You hold this,” directed Bob, “and I’ll
+give it a couple of whacks.”
+
+Laurie took the lantern, and Bob brought the bar down smartly on the
+lock. Probably it was old and rusty, for it broke into pieces under the
+blow, and in another instant they had thrust the heavy bolt back. Then
+Bob took a long breath and pulled the door toward them. The hinges
+squeaked loudly, startlingly, in the silence. Before them lay darkness,
+and Laurie, leaning past the doorway, raised the lantern high.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV—A MERRY CHRISTMAS
+
+
+“Guess Laurie got lost,” grumbled Ned, kicking one foot against the step
+and looking across the yard.
+
+George laughed. “Guess you could find him if you went as far as the
+Widow’s, Nid.”
+
+“Well, he ought to be back. It’s nearly time for the tree, isn’t it?”
+Characteristically, Ned saved himself the trouble of determining the
+matter for himself, and it was George who looked at his watch.
+
+“There’s ’most an hour yet. Let’s go and have a look for him. He and Bob
+are probably at Polly’s.”
+
+But they didn’t get as far as Polly’s just then, for when they reached
+the corner they descried Laurie tearing along the side yard of the
+Coventry place. At sight of them he moderated his speed slightly and
+began to shout, waving both hands in a quite demented manner.
+
+“What’s he saying?” asked George. “What’s wrong?”
+
+“Wants us to hurry,” grumbled Ned. “We are hurrying, you idiot!” he
+continued, raising his voice. But he hurried faster, George at his
+heels, and met Laurie at the front gate.
+
+“What’s your trouble?” he demanded. “House on fire? Bob got the croup?
+What is it? Can’t you talk?”
+
+“Can’t tell you,” panted Laurie. “You’ve got to see—for yourself! Come
+on!”
+
+He seized Ned by one arm, and pulled him away and around the house and
+down the bulkhead steps, George loping after them. In the cellar stood
+Bob, disreputable in his old clothes and adorned with dust and cobwebs,
+a lighted lantern in one hand.
+
+“Has he told you?” he cried, as the others piled down the stairs.
+
+“Told me? He hasn’t told anything,” gasped Ned, shaking himself free at
+last. “What is it?”
+
+Bob laughed loudly and gleefully. “Then come on!” he shouted. He dashed
+into the preserve closet, Ned, George, and Laurie at his heels, passed
+from sight for an instant, and was seen again crawling through a hole in
+the wall. Ned and George showered questions as they pattered along the
+tunnel, but all they received in reply was insane laughter and a
+meaningless, breathless jumble of words. And then they were at the
+farther portal, and Bob led the way through, and they followed.
+
+They found themselves in a small cellar-like compartment scarcely four
+paces square. It was windowless, although, close to the raftered ceiling
+in the rear wall, two oblongs of brick set in the stone showed where at
+some time small windows had been. The floor was paved with flat stones.
+In one corner, the only objects there, were a small iron chest, its lid
+swung open and back, and a crowbar. The newcomers stared in amazement,
+the truth slowly dawning on them. It was Laurie who spoke first.
+
+“Go and look!” he said excitedly.
+
+Ned and George obeyed. Within the chest lay four fat, heavy brownish
+envelopes, bound and tied with pink tape.
+
+“Take one out and open it,” said Bob over Ned’s shoulder.
+
+Ned picked up one. Across one end was written in scrawly characters the
+inscription “Gov’t.”
+
+“‘Government,’” explained Laurie, softly. “It’s full of United States
+bonds. Nearly a dozen of them. Have a look.”
+
+“Geewhillikins!” breathed Ned, in awe, as he drew the folded contents
+into the light. “Old Coventry’s, do you mean?”
+
+“Of course! Whose else? And there are three more lots. We haven’t
+figured them up yet, but there must be fifty thousand dollars’ worth!”
+
+“Maybe they’re no good,” offered George.
+
+“How do you mean, no good?” asked Ned indignantly. “United States bonds
+are always good!”
+
+“Well, the others—”
+
+“They’re railroad bonds, all of them, three different lots,” said Bob.
+“I guess they’re all right, too, don’t you, Ned?”
+
+“Right as rain! Why, the old codger—What’s that?” he asked suddenly,
+looking ceiling-ward. Laurie laughed.
+
+“That’s what we wondered,” he answered. “We jumped when we heard it
+first. Don’t you know where you are?”
+
+Ned looked around him and shook his head.
+
+“Under the Widow Deane’s house!”
+
+“Wha-at! But Polly said there wasn’t any cellar!”
+
+“She doesn’t know any better. Look above you. See where the stairway
+went? The old chap must have torn it away and boarded the hole up; and
+bricked up the windows, too. It must have cost him a pretty penny to do
+all this!”
+
+“What—what are you going to do with it?” asked George, pointing to the
+chest.
+
+“Why, hand it over to the lawyers, whoever they are, I suppose,”
+answered Bob. “But first of all we’re going to take those bonds and dump
+them into the Widow’s lap. I always said I’d hand it all over to her,
+when I found it. I never thought I would find it, but I have—or Laurie
+has, because if he hadn’t noticed that the shelves were loose we never
+would—”
+
+“Besides,” interrupted George, “she comes in for a share of the money.
+Come on, fellows! Let’s do it now! Gee, it will be some Christmas
+present!”
+
+“Won’t it? Let’s each one take a package,” said Laurie. “We’ll leave
+everything just as it is for the lawyer folks. Come on!”
+
+“Say, fellows, there’s an awfully funny smell down here,” observed
+George. “Sort of—sort of sweet, like—like violets or something. Notice
+it?”
+
+“Yes, I noticed it before I got in here, though,” said Ned. “Wonder what
+it is.”
+
+“Oh, places like this get to smelling funny after they’ve been shut up
+for a while,” said Bob. “And I guess this place hasn’t been opened for
+two years, eh?”
+
+“Of course not; not since old Coventry died. Just the same, it’s a
+mighty funny odor.” And George sniffed again perplexedly. Laurie, who
+had withdrawn to the door, unconsciously placed a hand in one jacket
+pocket, where, within a crushed cardboard box, some fragments of glass
+were all that remained of Polly’s present! In prying open the lid of the
+chest he had brought the end of the crowbar against that pocket, and now
+the purchase was only a memory, albeit a fragrant one.
+
+Some three minutes later four flushed-faced and very joyous youths burst
+into the Widow Deane’s shop. To the jangling of the little bell in the
+back room Polly appeared, a very pretty, bright-eyed Polly this morning
+in a new Christmas dress.
+
+“Merry Christmas!” she cried. “Merry Christmas, Nid! Merry Christmas,
+Bob! Merry Christmas, George! Merry Christmas, Nod!”
+
+Perhaps Laurie should have felt hurt that his own greeting had come
+last; but he wasn’t, for a glance went with it that hadn’t accompanied
+the others. But, although the boys answered the greetings in chorus, it
+was apparent to Polly that they were there for another purpose than to
+wish her a Merry Christmas.
+
+“Where’s your mother!” demanded Bob.
+
+“In there.” Polly pointed to the back room, and without ceremony the
+four filed past and into the little living-room. Mrs. Deane was seated
+in a rocker, her spectacles pushed down on her nose, a paper across her
+knees, and her eyes fixed in smiling inquiry on the doorway.
+
+Bob led the way. On the outspread paper he laid a brown envelop. “Wish
+you a Merry Christmas, ma’am,” he said.
+
+Laurie followed, deposited his envelop beside Bob’s, repeated the
+greeting, and drew aside to make way for Nod and George. The Widow
+looked inquiringly from the stout envelops to the boys, smiling
+tolerantly the while. Boys were always up to pranks, and she liked them,
+boys and pranks both!
+
+“What are these?” she asked, finally, when the fourth envelop lay in her
+lap.
+
+Polly, looking over her shoulder, gasped as she read the writing on one
+of the packets, and her eyes, as round as round, looked across at
+Laurie.
+
+“_Nod! They aren’t—You haven’t—_”
+
+“Yes, they are!” cried Laurie. “Look and see for yourself! Open them,
+Mrs. Deane!”
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ten minutes later, when the first excitement had somewhat subsided,
+Polly clapped her hands.
+
+“Why,” she cried, “now we know what those sounds were we used to hear,
+Mama! They were Uncle Peter down there in the cellar! They were his
+footsteps! And only a little while ago I thought I heard sounds sort of
+like them! And that must have been you boys!”
+
+“Of course,” agreed Bob. “And we could hear you folks up here quite
+plainly. There goes my last hope of catching a ghost!”
+
+“How many are there to share in the money, Mrs. Deane?” asked George.
+
+“Dear me, I’m not quite sure.” She looked inquiringly over her
+spectacles at Polly. “Weren’t there seven, dear?”
+
+“Eight, Mama.”
+
+“Well, even then it isn’t so bad” said George. “One eighth of
+sixty-two-thousand—”
+
+“Seven thousand seven hundred and fifty,” announced Laurie, promptly.
+“And the bonds may be worth more than we figured, ma’am!”
+
+“Well, I’m sure,” answered Mrs. Deane, “seven thousand dollars is seven
+times more money than I ever expected to see! I shan’t know what to do
+with it.” She looked quite alarmed and helpless for a moment, but Polly
+patted her shoulder reassuringly.
+
+“You must invest it, dearest, and then you won’t have to keep this place
+any longer, because when I go to work—”
+
+But, instead of vanishing, the Widow Deane’s alarm increased. “Oh, I
+couldn’t give up the store, Polly!” she gasped. “Why—why, what would I
+do with myself all day?”
+
+“Yes’m that’s so!” declared Ned, heartily. “Gee, you couldn’t do that!
+Why, we wouldn’t have any place to buy cream-puffs!”
+
+“I guess I would keep on with the store,” Mrs. Deane concluded, when the
+laughter had subsided. “I’m afraid I’d never be very happy if I didn’t
+have you boys around. Well, it’s certainly very wonderful, isn’t it,
+Polly?”
+
+“It’s—it’s heavenly!” declared Polly. “This is just the most beautiful
+Christmas there ever was or ever will be! And I don’t see how we can
+ever thank you all for finding—”
+
+“Gosh!” exclaimed Laurie. “The Doctor’s tree, fellows! We’ll have to
+beat it! We’ll leave the bonds here until to-morrow—eh?”
+
+“But I want to see the tunnel and—and everything!” cried Polly.
+
+“That’s so! We’ll come over after dinner. Come on, fellows! Neddie, come
+away from those tarts!”
+
+“I was only looking,” sighed Ned.
+
+Mrs. Deane and Polly went with them to the door. Down the street the
+deep-toned bell in the Congregational church was ringing, and, farther
+away, other bells were joining in a chorus of glad triumph. Mrs. Deane,
+listening, held a very happy look in her face. On the sidewalk, Ned and
+Laurie dropped behind their companions, paused, and faced the doorway.
+There was a quick exchange of glances between them, and then, bowing,
+Ned began and Laurie finished:
+
+    “A Merry Christmas and well-filled bins,”
+    “Is the hearty wish of the Turner Twins!”
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  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: The Turner Twins
+
+Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+Illustrator: C. M. Relyea
+
+Release Date: August 26, 2011 [EBook #37209]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Through the secret door]
+
+
+
+
+                                  THE
+                              TURNER TWINS
+
+                                   BY
+                          RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
+
+           Author of "The Crimson Sweater," "Harry's Island,"
+                           "Team-Mates," etc.
+
+                             ILLUSTRATED BY
+                              C. M. RELYEA
+
+                                NEW YORK
+                            THE CENTURY CO.
+                                  1922
+
+
+
+
+                       Copyright, 1921, 1922, by
+                            The Century Co.
+
+                        PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+            CHAPTER                                      PAGE
+                  I Introduces a Pair of Shoes              3
+                 II The Girl in the White Middy            13
+                III Cakes and Ale                          28
+                 IV Kewpie Starts Something                37
+                  V In the Performance of Duty             52
+                 VI Ned is Firm                            61
+                VII High School Accepts Defeat             70
+               VIII In the Miser's House                   84
+                 IX Laurie Hears News                      98
+                  X Polly Entertains                      110
+                 XI Ned Speaks Out                        120
+                XII The Committee on Arrangements         130
+               XIII Ned Gets into the Game                141
+                XIV The Fete                              154
+                 XV Ned Has an Idea                       170
+                XVI Polly Tells a Spook Story             179
+               XVII Laurie Makes a Protest                190
+              XVIII Before the Battle                     201
+                XIX Ned is Missing                        213
+                 XX For the Honor of the Turners          223
+                XXI The Understudy                        238
+               XXII The Boys Make a Present               250
+              XXIII The Secret Passage                    262
+               XXIV A Merry Christmas                     272
+
+
+
+
+                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+Through the secret door                                     Frontispiece
+
+"Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!"                         36
+
+"But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" asked Polly  136
+
+"Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em."                   240
+
+
+
+
+THE TURNER TWINS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I--INTRODUCES A PAIR OF HEROES
+
+
+"Jail," said the boy in the gray flannels.
+
+"School," pronounced the boy in the blue serge.
+
+"Bet you!"
+
+"No, sir, you owe me ten cents now. You didn't pay up the last time."
+
+"It's wrong to bet for money, Ned."
+
+The other set down the suitcase he was carrying and scoffed. "Yes, when
+you lose," he observed, with deep sarcasm. "That's thirty-five cents you
+owe me. You bet in Chicago that--"
+
+"That debt's outlawed. Chicago's in Michigan--"
+
+"Bet you!"
+
+"And this is New York, and so--"
+
+"Mighty good thing Dad sent you to school, Laurie. Chicago's in
+Illinois, you ignoramus."
+
+"Is it? Well, who cares?" Laurence Stenman Turner had also deposited the
+bag he was carrying on the brick sidewalk and was applying a
+lavender-bordered handkerchief to a moist brow. "Just the same, that's a
+jail."
+
+"If that's a jail, I'll eat my hat," declared the other,
+
+"It's not a school, though, and that's flat," was the prompt retort.
+
+"Huh, that was an easy one!" Edward Anderson Turner retreated to a
+flat-topped stone wall bordering a well-shaded lawn and seated himself
+with a sigh of relief. His companion followed suit. Behind them, grass
+and trees and flower beds made a pleasant setting for a square gray
+house, half hidden from the street. Overhead a horse-chestnut tree
+spread low branches across the sidewalk. The quiet village street
+ascended gently, curving as it went, empty in both directions. Somewhere
+on a neighboring thoroughfare a scissors-grinder was punctuating the
+silence with the musical _ding--dang--dong_ of bells. In a near-by tree
+a locust was making his shrill clatter. Across the way, the subject of
+contention, stood a large red-brick edifice, stone trimmed, many
+windowed, costly and unlovely. The boys viewed it silently. Then their
+glances fell to the two black suitcases on the curbing.
+
+"How far did that hombre say it was to the school?" asked Ned Turner,
+after a minute of silence.
+
+"Three quarters of a mile."
+
+"How far have we walked already?"
+
+"Mile and a half."
+
+"Consequently?"
+
+"Said hombre was a li--was unvoracious."
+
+"Un-_ver_-acious is the word, old son."
+
+"What do we care? We don't own it," replied Laurie, cheerfully. "Want to
+go on?"
+
+Ned shook his head slowly. "What time have you got?" he asked.
+
+"What time do you want?" was the flippant response.
+
+With a sigh, Ned pulled back his left sleeve and looked at his watch.
+"It's only about a quarter to twelve. We don't have to get there until
+six if we don't want to."
+
+"I know, but I couldn't sit on this wall all that time! Besides, what
+about lunch?"
+
+"I'm not very hungry," was the sad reply.
+
+"That's the trouble with having your breakfast late."
+
+"That's the trouble with eating two plates of griddle-cakes, you mean,"
+retorted Laurie. "Anyway, I'm hungry if you're not. Let's go."
+
+But he made no move, and they continued to dangle their shoes from the
+wall and gaze lazily across the shady street. The scissors-grinder's
+chime died in the distance. Farther down the street the whirring of a
+lawn-mower competed with the locust.
+
+"Upon a wall they sat them down," murmured Ned, turning a challenging
+look on his companion.
+
+"Lost in the wilds of Orstead Town," added Laurie.
+
+Ned nodded mild approval and once more silence held.
+
+Save that one was dressed in gray and the other in blue, the two boys
+were strikingly alike. Each was slim of body and round of face, with
+red-brown hair and a short, slightly impertinent nose. Ned's eyes were a
+trifle bluer than Laurie's and he had the advantage--if advantage it
+was--of some five pounds of weight. But neither of these facts was
+apparent at first glance. Faces and hands were well browned and the pair
+looked extremely healthy. They were dressed neatly, with perhaps more
+attention to detail than is usual in lads of their age, their attire
+terminating at one end in well-polished brown shoes and at the other in
+immaculate black derbies. Their age was fifteen years, three months, and
+eleven days. Which, of course, leads you to the correct conclusion that
+they were twins.
+
+"Maybe," hazarded Laurie, presently, "we've lost our way."
+
+"Don't just see how we could," Ned objected. "The old chap at the
+station said we were to keep right along up Walnut Street. This is still
+Walnut Street, isn't it?"
+
+"I suppose so." Laurie's glance strayed right and left. "Must be; I
+don't see any walnuts."
+
+"Guess the only 'nuts' are right here. Come on, let 's hit the trail
+again." Ned slid to his feet and took up his burden. "Why the dickens we
+didn't take that carriage the fellow wanted to sell us is more than I
+see."
+
+"'Cause we needed the exercise. Also, 'cause we're down to a dollar and
+fourteen cents between us--unless you 're holding out."
+
+"Well, I'm not!" replied Ned, indignantly. "I paid for the breakfasts in
+New York--"
+
+"And I paid for dinner on the diner last night--"
+
+"Who said you didn't?" They went on leisurely, and presently Ned
+continued: "Say, suppose we don't like this ranch after we get
+there--then what, old son?"
+
+Laurie considered thoughtfully. Then, "Two things we can do," he
+pronounced. "No, three. We can put up with it, change it to suit us, or
+leave it."
+
+"Leave it! Yes, we can! On a dollar and fourteen cents?"
+
+"We'll have nearly twenty more when we cash Dad's check and pay the term
+bill. Twenty dollars would take us back to New York and buy a lot of
+griddle-cakes, anyway."
+
+Laurie's voice was partly drowned by a small delivery automobile that
+dashed into sight at a corner ahead and sped by with a clamor worthy of
+a four-ton truck. The brothers looked after it interestedly. "That's the
+first sign of life we've seen," said Ned. "Say, I do wish this street
+would stop twisting this way. First thing we know, we'll be back at the
+station!"
+
+"Bet you I'd hop the first freight then. I've got a hunch that we're not
+going to care for Hillman's School."
+
+"Speak for yourself. I am. I like this town, too. It's pretty."
+
+"Oh, it's pretty enough," grumbled Laurie, "but it went to sleep about a
+century ago and hasn't waked up since. Here's somebody coming; let's ask
+where the school is."
+
+"It's just a girl."
+
+"What of it? She probably knows."
+
+The girl appeared to be of about their own age and wore a white middy
+dress with black trimming and a scarlet tie knotted below a V of
+sun-browned throat. She wore no hat and her dark hair was gathered into
+a single braid. As she drew near she gave the boys a quick glance of
+appraisal from a pair of gravely friendly brown eyes. It was Ned who
+shifted his suitcase to his left hand and raised his derby. It was
+always Ned who spoke first; after that, they alternated scrupulously.
+
+"Would you please tell us where Hillman's School is?" he asked.
+
+The girl stopped and her somewhat serious face lighted with a smile.
+"It's right there," she replied, and nodded.
+
+The boys turned to the blankness of a high privet hedge behind an iron
+fence. The girl laughed softly. "Behind the hedge, I mean," she
+explained. "The gate is a little way around the corner there, on Summit
+Street."
+
+"Oh," said Laurie. That laugh was contagious, and he grinned in
+response. "A man at the station told us it was only three quarters of a
+mile, but we've been walking for hours!"
+
+"I guess it's nearer a mile than three quarters," answered the girl,
+slowly. She appeared to be giving the matter very serious consideration
+and two little thoughtful creases appeared above her nose, a small,
+straight nose that was bridged by a sprinkling of freckles. Then the
+smile came again. "Maybe it did seem longer, though," she acknowledged,
+"for it's uphill all the way; and then, you had your bags. You're new
+boys, aren't you?"
+
+Ned acknowledged it, adding, "Think we'll like it?"
+
+The girl seemed genuinely surprised. "Why, of course! Every one likes
+it. What a perfectly funny idea!"
+
+"Well," said Laurie, defensively, "we've never tried boarding-school
+before, you see. Dad didn't know anything about Hillman's, either. He
+chose it on account of the way the advertisement read in a magazine.
+Something about 'a moderate discipline rigidly enforced.'"
+
+The girl laughed again. (She had a jolly sort of laugh, they decided.)
+"You're--you're twins, aren't you?" she asked.
+
+"He is," replied Ned, gravely.
+
+"Why--why, aren't you both?" Her brown eyes grew very round and the
+little lines creased her nose again.
+
+"It's this way," explained Laurie. "Ned was born first, and so, as there
+was only one of him, he wasn't a twin. Then I came, and that made two of
+us, and I was a twin. You see, don't you? It's really quite plain."
+
+The girl shook her head slowly in puzzlement. "I--I'm afraid I don't,"
+she answered apologetically. "You _must_ be twins--both of you, I
+mean--because you both look just like both--I mean, each other!" Then
+she caught the sparkle of mischief in Ned's blue eyes and laughed. Then
+they all laughed. After which they seemed suddenly to be very good
+friends, such good friends that Laurie abandoned custom and spoke out of
+turn.
+
+"I suppose you know a lot of the fellows," he said.
+
+The girl shook her head. "N--no, not any, really. Of course, I see most
+of them when they come to Mother's, but she doesn't like me to--to
+_know_ them."
+
+"Of course not," approved Ned. "She's dead right, too. They're a pretty
+poor lot, I guess."
+
+"Oh, no, they're not, really! Only, you see--" She stopped, and then
+went on a trifle breathlessly: "I guess she wouldn't be awfully pleased
+if she saw me now! I--I hope you'll like the school."
+
+She nodded and went on.
+
+"Thanks," called Laurie. "If we don't like it, we'll change it.
+Good-by."
+
+"Nice kid," observed Ned, tolerantly, as they turned the corner of the
+hedge. "Wonder who she is. She said most of the fellows went to her
+mother's. Maybe her mother gives dancing lessons or something, eh?"
+
+"If she does, she won't see me," responded his brother, firmly. "No
+dancing for mine."
+
+"Maybe it's compulsory."
+
+"Maybe it's esthetic," retorted Laurie, derisively. "It makes no never
+mind. I'm agin it. This must be the place. Yes, there's a sign."
+
+It was a very modest sign a-swing from a rustic post beside a broad
+entrance giving on to a well-kept drive. "Hillman's School--Entrance
+Only," it read. Laurie stopped in pretended alarm and laid a detaining
+clutch on Ned's shoulder.
+
+"'Entrance Only'! Sounds as if we couldn't ever get out again, Ned! Do
+you dare?"
+
+Ned looked doubtfully through at the curving drive and the red-brick
+building that showed beyond the border of trees and shrubbery. Then he
+threw back his shoulders and set foot bravely within.
+
+"Come, comrade, let us know the worst!"
+
+Laurie, with a gesture of resignation, followed.
+
+"What you durst I will likewise durst!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II--THE GIRL IN THE WHITE MIDDY
+
+
+When Doctor John Hyde Hillman started a modest school for boys, on the
+bank of the Hudson River, at Orstead, the town barely crept to the one
+brick building that contained dormitory and recitation-rooms. But that
+was nearly twenty years ago, and to-day the place is no longer isolated,
+but stands well inside the residence section of the village. There are
+four buildings, occupying most of an unusually large block. School Hall,
+four stories in height, is a red-brick, slate-roofed edifice, whose
+unloveliness has been mercifully hidden by ivy. It faces Summit Street
+and contains the class-rooms, the offices, and, at one end, the
+principal's quarters. Flanking it are the two dormitories, East Hall and
+West Hall. These, while of brick too, are modern and far more
+attractive. Each contains sleeping-rooms to accommodate forty students,
+two masters' studies, a recreation-hall, dining-room, kitchen, and
+service-rooms. Behind East Hall is the gymnasium, a picturesque
+structure of random-set stone, gray stucco, and much glass. Here,
+besides the gymnasium proper, is an auditorium of good size, a modest
+swimming-tank, locker-room and baths, and a commodious office presided
+over by Mr. Wells, the physical director. From the gymnasium steps one
+looks across an attractive, well-kept quadrangle of shaded turf,
+vegetable and flower gardens, and tennis-courts.
+
+Doctor Hillman occupies an apartment at the west end of the School Hall,
+gained from the building by way of the school offices, and from without
+by way of a wide porch, vine screened in summer and glassed in winter,
+an outdoor living-room where, on seasonable Friday afternoons, the
+doctor's maiden sister, Miss Tabitha, who keeps house for him, serves
+weak tea and layer-cake to all comers. Miss Tabitha, I regret to say, is
+known among the boys as "Tabby," with, however, no more intention of
+disrespect than in alluding to the doctor as "Johnny." Miss Tabitha's
+thin body holds a warm heart, and her somewhat stern countenance belies
+her kindly ways.
+
+On this fifteenth day of September, shortly after twelve o'clock, Miss
+Tabitha was seated on the vine-shaded porch in an erect and
+uncompromising attitude, her knitting-needles clicking busily. Near by,
+but a few moments before released from the office, the doctor was
+stretched in a long wicker chair, a morning paper before him. At the
+other end of the porch, a gate-legged table was spread for the mid-day
+meal, and a middle-aged colored woman--who, when it pleased her,
+answered to the name of Aunt Persis--shuffled in and out of sight at
+intervals. It was Miss Tabitha who, hearing the sound of steps on the
+walk, peered over her glasses and broke the silence.
+
+"Two more of the boys are coming, John," she announced.
+
+The doctor grunted.
+
+"I think they are new boys. Yes, I am sure they are. And bless my soul,
+John, they're alike as two peas!"
+
+"Alike?" The doctor rustled the paper to indicate interest. "Well, why
+shouldn't they be? Probably they're brothers. Let me see, weren't those
+two boys from California brothers? Of course. Turner's the name."
+
+"Well, I never saw two boys so much alike in all my born days," Miss
+Tabitha marveled. "Do you suppose they can be twins, John?"
+
+"It's quite within the realm of probability," was the reply. "I believe
+that twins do occur occasionally, even in the--er--best-regulated
+families."
+
+"Well, they certainly _are_ twins!" Miss Tabitha laid down her work,
+brushed the front of her immaculate dress, and prepared to rise. "I
+suppose I had better go and meet them," she added.
+
+"I don't see the necessity for it, my dear," the doctor protested.
+"Cummins may, I think, be relied on to deal even with--er--twins."
+
+"Of course; but--still--California's such a long way--and they may feel
+strange--or lonesome--"
+
+The doctor laughed gently. "Then by all means go, my dear. If you like,
+have them out here for a few minutes. If the resemblance between them is
+as striking as you seem to think, they must be worth seeing."
+
+When Miss Tabitha had tripped into the house, the doctor dropped his
+paper, stretched luxuriously, and, with a sigh of protest, sat up. He
+was several years younger than his sister--which is to say, in the
+neighborhood of forty-seven. He was a smallish man, compactly built,
+with a pleasant countenance on which a carefully-trimmed Vandyke beard
+made up to an extent for the lack of hair above. He wore shell-rimmed
+glasses and was very near-sighted, a fact emphasized by his manner of
+thrusting his head forward to eke out the deficiencies of his lenses.
+This trick was apparent a minute later when, following in the tripping
+footsteps of Miss Tabitha, the two boys emerged on the porch. They were
+amazingly alike, the doctor decided: same height, same breadth at hip
+and shoulder, same coloring, same leisurely, yet confident, ease of
+movement, same expression of lively curiosity twinkling through an
+almost depressingly respectful solemnity.
+
+"These are the Turner boys," announced Miss Tabitha. "This is Edward and
+this is--" She halted to look doubtfully from one to the other. "Or--or
+perhaps _this_ is Edward and--Dear me!"
+
+"I'm Edward, ma'am," said the boy in blue.
+
+"Well, I don't see how you can ever be _certain_ of it!" sighed Miss
+Tabitha, doubtfully. "This is Doctor Hillman."
+
+They shook hands, and in a moment the boys found themselves seated side
+by side and replying to the doctor's questions.
+
+"You are entering with certificates from your high school principal, I
+believe, young gentlemen. What year were you?"
+
+"Second, sir," answered Ned.
+
+"And your home is in--"
+
+"Santa Lucia, sir," replied Laurie.
+
+"California," added Ned.
+
+"Well, you're quite a ways from home. Did you make the trip alone?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Dad was coming with us as far as Chicago, but something
+happened so he couldn't. We didn't have any trouble, though."
+
+"Really? Well, I believe you have the distinction of residing farther
+away than any of your fellows here. I don't recall any one who lives as
+far away as California; do you, sister?"
+
+Miss Tabitha looked doubtful and hesitated an instant before she
+replied, "George Watson comes from Wyoming, I think, John."
+
+"So he does," assented the doctor, gravely; "but measured in a straight
+line, my dear, California is slightly farther than Wyoming."
+
+"Is it?" asked Miss Tabitha, untroubled. "I never could remember where
+those western States are."
+
+"You remember many more important things, however. My sister, boys,
+fancied that she detected a certain resemblance between you, and even
+surmised that you might be--er--twins. Doubtless she's mistaken."
+
+"No, sir," answered Ned, more than a trace of surprise in his voice. "I
+mean, we are twins, sir."
+
+"Why, now that's interesting! Looking closer--" the doctor leaned
+forward and craned his head--"I believe I detect a certain slight
+similarity myself!"
+
+There was a perceptible twinkle behind the glasses and Laurie dared a
+laugh, in which the doctor and Ned joined, while Miss Tabitha murmured:
+"Well! I should think you _might_!"
+
+"I hope you are both going to like the school," continued the doctor.
+"Of course, you'll find our ways a little different, but we'll try to
+make you feel at home. You are the first representatives of your State
+who have attended our school, and I trust that both in conduct and
+industry you will bring honor to it. Mr. Cornish, your hall master, will
+advise you in all matters pertaining to your studies, Other questions
+may be taken to Mr. Cummins, the school secretary, whom you have
+doubtless already met. But I want you always to feel at perfect liberty
+to come to me at any time on any matter at all. And," added the doctor,
+with a twinkle, "if we fail you, there is still my sister, who, I assure
+you, possesses more wisdom than all of us."
+
+Miss Tabitha acknowledged the compliment with a little wry smile, and
+Ned and Laurie arose.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the former.
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Laurie.
+
+"Luncheon is served at one in West Hall," continued the doctor. "That's
+the dormitory behind you there. Beginning with supper to-night, you will
+take your meals in your own hall, but only a few of the students have
+arrived as yet, and so only one dining-room is open. I'm very glad to
+have met you, young gentlemen. Mr. Cummins will direct you to your room.
+Good morning."
+
+Five minutes later, the Turner twins set their suitcases down on the
+floor of Number 16 East Hall and looked about them. Number 16 was not
+palatial as to size, but it was big enough to hold comfortably the two
+single beds, the study-table, the two narrow chiffoniers, and the four
+chairs that made up its furnishing. There was a generous-sized closet at
+each side of the door, and two windows set close together between the
+beds. Under the windows was a wide seat, lacking only pillows to make it
+inviting. From the casements the boys looked over or through the topmost
+branches of the maples that lined Washington Street and followed Summit
+Street as it continued its ascent of the hill and presently leveled out
+between a thick wood on one side and an open field on the other.
+
+"That must be the athletic field," said Laurie. "See the stand there?
+And the goal-posts? How do you like it?"
+
+"The field? Looks all right from here."
+
+"I mean the whole outfit, you simp; the school and Doctor Hillman and
+Miss Frosty-Face and everything."
+
+"Cut out calling names, Laurie. Miss Hillman's all right. So's the
+doctor. So's the school. I like it. Wonder when our trunks will get
+here."
+
+"Half an hour ago you had a hunch you weren't going to like it," jeered
+Laurie. "Changed your mind, haven't you?"
+
+"Yes, and I'm going to change more than my mind." Whereupon Ned opened
+his bag and selected a clean shirt. "What time is it?"
+
+"What do you wear a watch for if you never look at it?" grumbled his
+brother. "It's ten to one, Lazy. I'm going to find a place to wash up. I
+choose this side of the room, Ned."
+
+Ned studied the room a moment. "No, you don't," he challenged. "I'll
+take this side. I'm the oldest." "There isn't any difference, you chump.
+One side's as good as the other."
+
+"Then you won't mind taking the other," answered Ned, sweetly. "Run
+along and find the lavatory. I think it's at the head of the stairs.
+Wonder why they put us up two flights."
+
+"Guess they knew you were naturally lazy and needed the exercise."
+
+Laurie dodged a pair of traveling slippers in a red-leather case and
+disappeared into the corridor.
+
+Some ten minutes later they descended the stairway together and set out
+for West Hall. Laurie drew attention to the gymnasium building, but Ned,
+who had recovered his appetite, only deigned it a glance. Two boys,
+luggage laden, evidently just arrived, came down the steps of School
+Hall as the twins passed, and stared curiously.
+
+"Guess they've never seen twins before in this part of the world,"
+grumbled Laurie. "Those chaps nearly popped their eyes out!"
+
+West Hall proved an exact duplicate of their own dormitory, and the
+dining-room occupied all the right end of it. There were about fifteen
+boys there, in age varying from fourteen to eighteen, and there was a
+perceptible pause in the business of eating when the newcomers entered.
+A waitress conducted them to seats at a table already occupied by three
+other lads, and asked if they'd have milk or iced tea. Ned, as usual,
+answered for both.
+
+"Iced tea, please, and lots of lemon."
+
+A very stout boy, sitting across the table, sniggered, and then,
+encountering Ned's inquiring regard, said, "Guess you think you're in
+the Waldorf!"
+
+
+"What's the Waldorf?" asked Ned. "Don't you get lemon with iced tea
+here?"
+
+"Sure! but you don't get much. Say, are you fellows--twins, or what?"
+
+"Twins?" repeated Laurie. "Where do you get that stuff? This fellow's
+name is Anderson and mine's Stenman. What's yours?"
+
+"Crow. Honest, is that a fact?" Crow looked appealingly at the other
+occupants of the table. These, however, two rather embarrassed-looking
+youngsters of fourteen or thereabouts, fixed their eyes on their plates,
+and Crow turned his regard incredulously back to the twins. "Gee, you
+fellows look enough alike to be--be--" He swallowed the word. "Aren't
+you even related?"
+
+Ned gazed speculatively at Laurie and Laurie gazed speculatively at Ned.
+"We might be," hazarded the latter.
+
+Laurie nodded. "If we went back far enough, we might find a common
+ancestor."
+
+The arrival of luncheon caused a diversion, although Crow, who was a
+round-faced, credulous-looking youth of perhaps seventeen, continued to
+regard them surreptitiously and in puzzlement. At last, making the
+passing of the salt an excuse, for further conversation, he asked,
+"Where do you fellows come from?"
+
+"California," said Ned.
+
+"Santa Lucia," said Laurie.
+
+"Well, but," sputtered Crow, "isn't California in Santa--I mean, isn't
+Santa--Say, you guys are joking, I'll bet!"
+
+"Methinks," observed Ned, helping himself gravely to mustard, "his words
+sound coarse and vulgar."
+
+Laurie abstractedly added a fourth teaspoon of sugar to his iced tea.
+"Like Turk or Kurd or even Bulgar," he murmured.
+
+Crow stared, grunted, and pushed his chair back. "You fellows think
+you're smart, don't you?" he sputtered. "Bet you you are twins--both of
+you!"
+
+Ned and Laurie looked after him in mild and patient surprise until his
+broad back had disappeared from view. Then a choking sound came from one
+of the younger lads, and Ned asked gently, "Now what's your trouble,
+son?"
+
+The boy grew very red of face and gave way to giggles. "I knew all the
+time you were twins," he gasped.
+
+"Did you really?" exclaimed Laurie. "Well, listen. Just as a favor to
+us, don't say anything about it, eh? You see, we're sort of--sort of--"
+
+"Sort of sensitive," aided Ned. "We'd rather it wasn't generally known.
+You understand, don't you?"
+
+The boy looked as if he was very far indeed from understanding, but he
+nodded, choked again, and muttered something that seemed to indicate
+that the secret was safe with him. Laurie thanked him gratefully.
+
+After luncheon they went sight-seeing about the school, snooped through
+the dim corridors and empty class-rooms of School Hall, viewed the
+gymnasium and experimented with numerous apparatus, and finally, after
+browsing through a flower and vegetable garden behind the recitation
+building and watching two boys make a pretense of playing tennis,
+returned to Number 16 in the hope of finding their trunks. But the
+baggage had not arrived, and presently, since the room was none too
+cool, they descended again and followed the curving drive to the right
+and past a sign that said "Exit Only" and wandered west on Summit
+Street.
+
+For the middle of September in the latitude of southern New York the
+weather was decidedly warm, and neither grass nor trees hinted that
+autumn had arrived. In the well-kept gardens across the way, scarlet
+sage and cosmos, asters and dahlias made riots of color.
+
+"Hot!" grunted Ned, running a finger around the inside of his collar.
+
+"Beastly," agreed Laurie, removing his cap and fanning his heated face.
+"Wonder where the river is. If we had our bathing-suits, maybe we could
+go for a swim."
+
+"Yes, and if we had a cake of ice we could sit on it!" responded Ned,
+sarcastically. "This place is hotter than Santa Lucia."
+
+At the next corner they turned again to the right. Morton Street, like
+so many of the streets in Orstead, refused to go straight, and after a
+few minutes, to their mild bewilderment, they found themselves on Walnut
+Street once more, a block below the school.
+
+"I'm not going back yet," said Laurie, firmly. "Let's find a place where
+we can get something cool to drink."
+
+As Walnut Street was unpromising, they crossed it and meandered along
+Garden Street. The houses here appeared to be less prosperous, and the
+front yards were less likely to hold lawn and flowers than dilapidated
+baby-carriages. At the first crossing they peered right and left, and
+were rewarded by the sight of a swinging sign at a little distance.
+
+What the sign said was as yet a mystery, for the trees intervened, but
+Laurie declared that he believed in signs and they made their way toward
+it. It finally proved to be a very cheerful little sign hung above a
+little white door in a little pale-blue two-story house, the lower floor
+of which was plainly devoted to commercial purposes.
+
+                              L. S. DEANE
+                            BOOKS, TOYS, AND
+                             CONFECTIONERY
+                          CIRCULATING LIBRARY
+                             LAUNDRY AGENCY
+                                 TONICS
+
+That is what the sign said in red letters on a white background. The
+windows, many paned, allowed uncertain glimpses of various articles:
+tops of red and blue and green, boxes of pencils, pads of paper, jars of
+candy, many bottles of ink, a catcher's glove, a dozen tennis-balls,
+some paper kites--
+
+Laurie dragged Ned inside, through a screen door that, on opening,
+caused a bell to tinkle somewhere in the farther recesses of the little
+building. It was dark inside, after the glare of the street, and
+refreshingly cool. Laurie, leading the way, collided with a bench,
+caromed off the end of a counter, and became aware of a figure, dimly
+seen, beyond the width of a show-case.
+
+"Have you anything cold to drink?" asked Ned, leaning across the
+show-case.
+
+"Ginger-ale or tonic or something?" Laurie elaborated.
+
+"Yes, indeed," replied the apparition, in a strangely familiar voice.
+"If you will step over to the other side, please--"
+
+Ned and Laurie leaned farther across the show-case.
+
+It was the girl in the white middy dress.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III--CAKES AND ALE
+
+
+"Hello!" exclaimed the twins, in one voice.
+
+"Hello," replied the girl, and they suspected that she was smiling,
+although their eyes were still too unused to the dimness of the little
+store for them to be certain. She was still only a vague figure in
+white, with a deeper blur where her face should have been. Treading on
+each other's heels, Ned and Laurie followed her to the other side. The
+twilight brightened and objects became more distinct. They were in front
+of a sort of trough-like box in which, half afloat in a pool of
+ice-water, were bottles of tonic and soda and ginger-ale. Behind it was
+a counter on which reposed a modest array of pastry.
+
+"What do you want?" asked the girl in the middy.
+
+"Ginger-ale," answered Ned. "Say, do you live here?"
+
+"No, this is the shop," was the reply. "I live upstairs."
+
+"Oh, well, you know what I mean," muttered Ned. "Is this your store?"
+
+"It's my mother's. I help in it afternoons. My mother is Mrs. Deane. The
+boys call her the Widow. I'm Polly Deane."
+
+"Pleased to know you," said Laurie. "Our name's Turner. I'm Laurie and
+he's Ned. Let me open that for you."
+
+"Oh, no, thanks. I've opened hundreds of them. Oh dear! You said
+ginger-ale, didn't you! And I've opened a root-beer. It's so dark in
+here in the afternoon."
+
+"That's all right," Ned assured her. "We like root-beer. We'd just as
+soon have it as ginger-ale. Wouldn't we, Laurie?"
+
+"You bet! We're crazy about it."
+
+"Are you sure? It's no trouble to--Well, _this_ is ginger-ale, anyway.
+I'm awfully sorry!"
+
+"What do we care?" asked Ned. "We don't own it."
+
+"Don't own it?" repeated Polly, in a puzzled tone.
+
+"That's just an expression of his," explained Laurie. "He's awfully
+slangy. I try to break him of it, but it's no use. It's fierce."
+
+"Of course _you_ don't use slang?" asked Polly, demurely. "Who wants the
+root-beer?"
+
+"You take it," said Laurie, hurriedly.
+
+"No, you," said Ned. "You're fonder of it than I am, Laurie. I don't
+mind, really!"
+
+Laurie managed a surreptitious kick on his brother's shin. "Tell you
+what," he exclaimed, "we'll mix 'em!"
+
+Ned agreed, though not enthusiastically, and with the aid of a third
+glass the deed was done. The boys tasted experimentally, each asking a
+question over the rim of his glass. Then looks of relief came over both
+faces and they sighed ecstatically.
+
+"Corking!" they breathed in unison.
+
+Polly laughed, "I never knew any one to do that before," she said. "I'm
+glad you like it. I'll tell the other boys about it."
+
+"No, you mustn't," protested Ned. "It's our invention. We'll call
+it--call it--"
+
+"Call it an Accident," suggested Laurie.
+
+"We'll call it a Polly," continued the other. "It really is bully.
+It's--it's different; isn't it, Laurie? Have another?"
+
+"Who were those on?" was the suspicious reply.
+
+"You. The next is on me. Only maybe another wouldn't taste so good, eh?"
+
+"Don't you fool yourself! I'll risk that."
+
+However, the third and fourth bottles, properly combined though they
+were, lacked novelty, and it was some time before the last glass was
+emptied. Meanwhile, of course, they talked. The boys acknowledged that,
+so far, they liked what they had seen of the school. Mention of the
+doctor and Miss Hillman brought forth warm praise from Polly. "Every one
+likes the doctor ever so much," she declared. "And Miss Tabitha is--"
+
+"Miss what?" interrupted Laurie.
+
+"Miss Tabitha. That's her name." Polly laughed softly. "They call her
+Tabby,--the boys, I mean,--but they like her. She's a dear, even if she
+does look sort of--of cranky. She isn't, though, a bit. She makes
+believe she's awfully stern, but she's just as soft as--as--"
+
+"As Laurie's head?" offered Ned, helpfully. "Say, you sell 'most
+everything here, don't you? Are those cream-puffs?"
+
+Ned slipped a hand into his pocket and Laurie coughed furiously. Ned's
+hand came forth empty. He turned away from temptation. "They look mighty
+good," he said. "If we'd seen those before we'd had all that
+ginger-ale--"
+
+Polly spoke detachedly. "You can have credit if you like," she said,
+placing the empty bottles aside. "The doctor lets the boys run bills
+here up to a dollar. They can't go over a dollar, though."
+
+"Personally," observed Laurie, jingling some coins in a trousers pocket,
+"I prefer to pay cash. Still, there are times--"
+
+"Yes, a fellow gets short now and then," said Ned, turning for another
+look at the pastry counter. "Maybe, just for--for convenience, it would
+be a good plan to have an account here, Laurie. Sometimes a fellow
+forgets to put any money in his pocket, you know. Does your mother make
+these?"
+
+"Yes, the cream-cakes, and some of the others. The rest Miss Comfort
+makes."
+
+"That's another funny name," said Laurie. "Who is Miss Comfort?"
+
+"She's--she's just Miss Comfort, I guess," replied Polly. "She lives on
+the next corner, in the house with the white shutters. She's quite old,
+almost seventy, I suppose, and she makes the nicest cake in Orstead.
+Everybody goes to her for cakes. That's the way she lives, I guess."
+
+"Maybe we'd ought to help her," suggested Ned, mentally choosing the
+largest and fattest cakes on the tray. "I guess we'll take a couple. How
+much are they?"
+
+"Six cents apiece," said Polly. "Do you want them in a bag?"
+
+"No, thanks." Ned handed one of the cakes to Laurie; "we'll eat them
+now." Then, between mouthfuls; "Maybe you'd better charge this to us. If
+we're going to open an account, we might as well do it now, don't you
+think?"
+
+Polly retired behind a counter and produced a long and narrow book, from
+which dangled a lead pencil at the end of a string. She put the tip of
+the pencil between her lips and looked across. "You'd better tell me
+your full names, I think."
+
+"Edward Anderson Turner and--"
+
+"I meant just your first names."
+
+"Oh! Edward and Laurence. You can charge us each with two bottles and
+one cake."
+
+"I like that!" scoffed Laurie. "Thought you were treating to cakes?"
+
+"Huh! Don't you want to help Miss Comfort? I should think you'd like
+to--to do a charitable act once in a while."
+
+"Don't see what difference it makes to her," grumbled Laurie, "whether
+you pay for both or I pay for one. She gets her money just the same."
+
+Ned brushed a crumb from his jacket. "You don't get the idea," he
+replied gently. "Of course, I might pay for both, but you wouldn't feel
+right about it, Laurie."
+
+"Wouldn't I? Where do you get that stuff? You try it and see." Laurie
+spoke grimly, but not hopefully. Across the counter, Polly was giggling
+over the account-book.
+
+"You're the funniest boys I ever did see," she explained, in answer to
+their inquiring looks. "You--you say such funny things!"
+
+Before she could elucidate, footsteps sounded in the room behind the
+store and a tiny white-haired woman appeared. In spite of her hair, she
+couldn't have been very old, for her face was plump and unwrinkled and
+her cheeks quite rosy. Seeing the customers, she bowed prettily and said
+"Good afternoon" in a very sweet voice.
+
+"Good afternoon," returned the twins.
+
+"Mama, these are the Turner boys," said Polly. "One of them is Ned and
+the other is Laurie, but I don't know which, because they look just
+exactly alike. They--they're twins!"
+
+"I want to know!" said Mrs. Deane. "Isn't that nice? I'm very pleased to
+meet you, young gentlemen. I hope Polly has served you with what you
+wanted. My stock is kind of low just now. You see, we don't have many
+customers in summer, and it's very hard to get things, nowadays, even if
+you do pay three times what they're worth. Polly, those ice-cream cones
+never did come, did they?"
+
+"Gee, do you have ice-cream?" asked Ned; eagerly.
+
+"Never you mind!" said Laurie, grabbing his arm. "You come on out of
+here before you die on my hands. I'm sorry to tell you, ma'am, that he
+doesn't know when to stop eating. I have to go around everywhere with
+him and look after him. If I didn't, he'd be dead in no time."
+
+"I want to know!" exclaimed the Widow Deane interestedly. "Why, it's
+very fortunate for him he has you, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes'm," answered Laurie, but he spoke doubtfully, for the little
+white-haired lady seemed to hide a laugh behind her words. Ned was
+grinning. Laurie propelled him to the door. Then, without relinquishing
+his grasp, he doffed his cap.
+
+"Good afternoon," he said, "We'll come again,"
+
+"We know not how," added Ned, "we know not when."
+
+"Bless my soul!" murmured the Widow, as the screen door swung behind
+them.
+
+Back at school, the twins found a different scene from what they had
+left. The grounds were populous with boys, and open windows in the two
+dormitory buildings showed many others. The entrances were piled with
+trunks and more were arriving. A rattling taxi turned in at the gate,
+with much blowing of a frenzied but bronchial horn, and added five merry
+youths to the population. Ned and Laurie made their way to East Hall,
+conscious, as they approached, of many eyes focussed on them from
+wide-flung windows. Remarks reached them, too.
+
+"See who's with us!" came from a second-floor casement above the
+entrance; "the two Dromios!"
+
+"Tweedledum and Tweedledee!"
+
+"The Siamese Twins, I'll bet a cooky!"
+
+"Hi, East Hall! Heads out!"
+
+The two were glad when they reached the shelter of the doorway. "Some
+one's going to get his head punched before long," growled Ned, as they
+started upstairs.
+
+"What do we care? We don't own 'em. Let them have their fun, Neddie."
+
+"I'll let some of them have a wallop," was the answer. "You'd think we
+were the first pair of twins they'd ever seen!"
+
+"Well, maybe we are. How do you know? Suppose those trunks have come?"
+
+They had, and for the next hour the twins were busy unpacking and
+getting settled. From beyond their door came sounds of much turmoil; the
+noise of arriving baggage, the banging of doors, shouts, whistling,
+singing; but they were otherwise undisturbed until, just when Laurie had
+slammed down the lid of his empty trunk, there came a knock at their
+portal, followed, before either one could open his mouth in response, by
+the appearance in the doorway of a bulky apparition in a gorgeous
+crimson bath-robe.
+
+"Hello, fellows!" greeted the apparition. "Salutations and everything!"
+
+[Illustration: "Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!"]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV--KEWPIE STARTS SOMETHING
+
+
+The twins stared silently and suspiciously for an instant. Then Ned made
+cautious response.
+
+"Hello," he said, with what must have seemed to the visitor a lamentable
+lack of cordiality.
+
+The latter pushed the door shut behind him by the kick of one stockinged
+foot, and grinned jovially. "My name's Proudtree," he announced.
+
+"You can't blame us," replied Laurie, coldly.
+
+Proudtree laughed amiably. "It is a rotten name, isn't it? I live across
+the corridor, you know. Thought I'd drop in and get acquainted, seeing
+you're new fellows; extend the hand of friendship and all that. You
+understand. By Jove, Pringle was right, too!"
+
+"That's fine," said Ned, with more than a trace of sarcasm. "What
+about?"
+
+"Why," answered Proudtree, easing his generous bulk into a chair, "he
+said you fellows were twins."
+
+"Not only were," said Laurie, gently, "but are. Don't mind, do you?"
+
+"Oh, come off your horse," begged the visitor. "Don't be so cocky. Who's
+said anything? I just wanted to have a look. Never saw any twins
+before--grown-up twins, I mean. You understand."
+
+"Thought you said you came to extend the hand of friendship," retorted
+Ned, sarcastically. "Well, have a good look, partner. There's no
+charge!"
+
+Proudtree grinned and accepted the invitation. Ned fumed silently under
+the inspection, but Laurie's sense of humor came to his aid. Proudtree
+appeared to be getting a lot of entertainment from his silent comparison
+of his hosts, and presently, when Ned's exasperation had just about
+reached the explosive point, he chuckled.
+
+"I've got it," he said.
+
+"Got what?" Laurie asked.
+
+"The--the clue! I know how to tell you apart! His eyes are different
+from yours; more blue. Yours are sort of gray. But, geewhillikins, it
+must be a heap of fun! Being twins, I mean. And fooling people. You
+understand."
+
+"Well, if you're quite through," snapped Ned, "maybe you'll call it a
+day. We've got things to do."
+
+"Meaning you'd like me to beat it?" asked the visitor, good-temperedly.
+
+"Just that!"
+
+"Oh, come, Ned," Laurie protested, soothingly, "he's all right. I dare
+say we are sort of freakish and--"
+
+"Sure," agreed Proudtree, eagerly, "that's what I meant. But say, I
+didn't mean to hurt any one's feelings. Geewhillikins, if I got waxy
+every time the fellows josh me about being fat--" Words failed him and
+he sighed deeply.
+
+Laurie laughed. "We might start a side-show, the three of us, and make a
+bit of money. 'Only ten cents! One dime! This way to the Siamese Twins
+and the Fat Boy! Walk up! Walk up!'"
+
+Proudtree smiled wanly. "I only weigh a hundred and seventy-eight and
+three quarters, too," he said dolorously. "If I was a couple of inches
+taller it wouldn't be so bad."
+
+"I don't think it's bad as it is," said Laurie, kindly. "You don't look
+really _fat_; you just look sort of--of--"
+
+"Amplitudinous," supplied Ned, with evident satisfaction.
+
+Proudtree viewed him doubtfully. Then he smiled. "Well, I've got to get
+rid of nearly fifteen pounds in the next two weeks," he said, with a
+shake of his head, "and that's going to take some doing."
+
+"What for?" Laurie asked. "Why destroy your symmetry?"
+
+"Football. I'm trying for center. I nearly made it last year, but
+Wiggins beat me out. He's gone now, though, and Mulford as good as said
+last spring that I could make it this fall if I could get down to a
+hundred and sixty-five."
+
+"Who's Mulford?" inquired Ned. "A fortune-teller?"
+
+Proudtree ignored the sarcasm. "Mulford's our coach. He's all right,
+too. The trouble with me is, I'm awfully fond of sweet things, and
+I--I've been eating a lot of 'em lately. But I guess I can drop fourteen
+pounds if I cut out pies and candy and things. Don't you think so?"
+Proudtree appealed to Laurie almost pathetically.
+
+"Don't let any one tell you anything different," replied Laurie,
+reassuringly. Ned, evidently recovered from his peevishness, asked:
+
+"What sort of football do they play here?"
+
+"Corking!" answered Proudtree.
+
+"I mean, Rugby or the other?"
+
+"Rugby!" exclaimed Proudtree, scornfully. "I guess not! We play regular
+football. Nobody plays Rugby around these parts. Are you fellows going
+out?"
+
+"Not just yet," replied Ned.
+
+"He means are we going to try for the football team," explained Laurie.
+"Yes, we are, Proudtree; at least, one of us is."
+
+"You?"
+
+"We haven't decided yet. You see, we've never played your kind of
+football. Back home, at high school, we played American Rugby, and it's
+quite different. But we decided that one of us had better go in for
+football and the other for baseball, if only to do our duty by the
+school."
+
+Proudtree looked puzzled. "How are you going to decide?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, we'll toss up or draw lots or something, I suppose. Maybe, though,
+Ned had better play football, because I know more baseball than he does.
+Still, I'm not particular."
+
+"That's the limit!" chuckled the visitor. "Say, what are your names? I
+didn't see any cards on the door."
+
+"Turner. His is Laurie and mine's Ned," answered the latter. "Do we put
+our names on the door?"
+
+"It's the best way," answered Proudtree. "Well, I've got to be moving. I
+started to take a shower and got side-tracked. You chaps come on over
+and see me and I'll get some of the other fellows in. You want to meet
+the right sort, you know. What's your class?"
+
+"Lower middle, I reckon," said Ned. "That's what we expect."
+
+"Too bad you can't make upper. That's mine. We've got a corking bunch of
+fellows this year. Well, see you later. Try for Mr. Barrett's table when
+you go down. That's the best. Maybe they'll put you there if you bluff
+it out. You understand. So long, fellows."
+
+Proudtree withdrew with considerable dignity in view of his bulk, waving
+a benedictory hand ere the door closed behind him. Ned shook his head.
+"Sort of a fresh hombre," he said.
+
+"Oh, he only meant to be friendly, I reckon," said Laurie. "You
+understand."
+
+Ned laughed. "I'll bet they've got a wonderful football team here if he
+plays on it! By the way, maybe we'd better settle which of us is to be
+the football star. I suppose they begin to practise pretty soon. I'll be
+the goat, if you like; though you had better luck with that book you
+bought in Chicago. I couldn't make head or tail of it. I never saw so
+many rules for playing one game in my life!"
+
+"It _was_ sort of difficult," agreed Laurie. "I dare say, though, that
+you pick up the rules quick enough when you start to play. If you don't
+really mind, I think you'd better go in for football, and I'll do the
+baseball stunt. I've played it more than you have, you know, even if I'm
+no wonder."
+
+"All right!" Ned sighed. "We'll get a bottle of arnica to-morrow.
+Nothing like being prepared. How about going to see Mr. What's-his-name
+before supper about courses?"
+
+"Might as well, and have it over with. I'd like to know whether we're
+going to make the lower middle."
+
+"Don't see what else we can make. They can't stick us in the junior
+class. Where's my coat? For the love of lemons, Laurie, can't you find
+anything else to sit on? Gosh, look at the wrinkles!"
+
+"Those aren't wrinkles; they're just creases. Come on!"
+
+Half an hour later they closed the door of Mr. Cornish's study on the
+floor below, in a chastened mood. Each carried a little buff card
+whereon the instructor had tabulated an amazing number and variety of
+study periods. Back in Number 16, Ned cast himself into a chair, thrust
+his legs forth, and gazed disconsolately at the card.
+
+"I don't see where a fellow finds time for anything but work here," he
+complained. "Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one hours a week! What do you
+know about that?"
+
+"Well, don't be so proud of it. I've got the same, haven't I? I wonder
+how many hours he thinks there are in a day?"
+
+"I tell you what I think," said Ned, after a moment's thought. "I think
+he got it into his head that we're very ambitious and want to graduate
+next spring!"
+
+"Maybe that's it," agreed Laurie, gravely. "Shall we go back and tell
+him he's wrong?"
+
+"N-no, let's not. He seemed a well-meaning old codger, and I wouldn't
+want to hurt his feelings--if he has any. Let's go down and see what
+they've got for supper."
+
+Ned's blandishments failed with the waitress, and they were established
+at a table presided over by a tall and very thin gentleman, whose name,
+as they learned presently, was Mr. Brock. There were four tables in the
+room, each accommodating ten boys and a member of the faculty.
+Diagonally across the dining-hall, the twins descried the ample Mr.
+Proudtree. Another table was in charge of a pleasant-faced woman who
+proved to be the school matron, Mrs. Wyman. Mr. Cornish, the hall
+master, and Mr. Barrett sat at the heads of the remaining boards.
+
+The room was very attractive, with a fine big stone fireplace at the
+farther end, and broad windows on two sides. The food proved plain, but
+it was served in generous quantities; and notwithstanding that the twins
+were a bit self-conscious, they managed a very satisfactory meal.
+
+Their fellow-students seemed to be a very decent lot. Their ages
+appeared to average about sixteen, and they had the clean, healthy look
+of boys who spent much of their time outdoors. At the table at which the
+twins sat, four of the boys were evidently seniors, and one was as
+evidently a junior. The latter looked hardly more than thirteen, though
+he was in reality a year older than that, and had the features and
+expression of a cherub. The twins concluded that he was a new boy and
+felt a little sorry for him. He looked much too young and innocent to
+face the world alone.
+
+No one made any special effort to engage either Ned or Laurie in
+conversation, perhaps because the returning youths had so much to talk
+about among themselves. Mr. Brock ate his supper in silence, save when
+one of the older boys addressed him, and had a far-away and abstracted
+air. Laurie saw him sweeten his tea three times, and then frown in
+annoyance when he finally tasted it.
+
+The boy who had guessed their awful secret at luncheon sat at the next
+table, and more than once Ned caught him looking across with a
+half-bewildered, half-frightened expression that somehow managed to
+convey the intelligence that, in spite of temptation, he had kept the
+faith. Ned finally rewarded him with a significant wink, and the youth
+retired in confusion behind the milk-pitcher.
+
+When the meal was over the twins went outside and, following the example
+set by others, made themselves comfortable on the grass beyond the walk.
+Near by, two older boys were conversing earnestly, and Ned and Laurie,
+having exhausted their own subjects of conversation, found themselves
+listening.
+
+"We've got to do it," the larger of the two was saying. "Dave's going to
+call a meeting of the school for Friday evening, and Mr. Wells is going
+to talk to them. I'll talk too. Maybe you'd better, Frank. You can tell
+them a funny story and get them feeling generous."
+
+"Nothing doing, Joe. Leave me out of it. I never could talk from a
+platform. Anyway, it's the fellows' duty to provide money. If they
+don't, they won't have a team. They understand that--or they will when
+you tell them. There's another thing, though, Joe, that we've got to
+have besides money, and that's material. We've _got_ to get more fellows
+out."
+
+"I know. I'll tell them that, too. I'm going to put a notice up in
+School Hall in the morning. Mr. Cummins says there are eight new fellows
+entering the middle classes this year. Maybe some of them are
+football-players."
+
+"Bound to be. Did you see the twins?"
+
+"No, but Billy Emerson was telling me about them. What do they look
+like?"
+
+"Not bad. Rather light-weight, though, and sort of slow. They're from
+Arizona or somewhere out that way, I think. You can't tell them apart,
+Joe."
+
+"Think they're football stuff?"
+
+"Search me. Might be. They're light, though. Here comes Kewpie. Gosh,
+he's fatter than ever! Hi, Kewpie! Come over here!"
+
+It was Proudtree who answered the hail, descended the steps, and
+approached. "Hello, Joe! Hello, Frank! Well, here we are again, eh?
+Great to be back, isn't it? Have a good summer, Joe?"
+
+"Fine! You?"
+
+"Corking! I was on Dad's yacht all through August. Saw the races and
+everything. Bully eats, too. You understand."
+
+"Yes," Joe Stevenson replied, "and I understand why you're about twenty
+pounds overweight, Kewpie! You ought to be kicked around the yard, you
+fat loafer. Thought you wanted to play center this fall."
+
+"I'm going to! Listen, Joe, I'm only fourteen pounds over and I'll drop
+that in no time. Honest, I will. You see! Besides, it isn't all fat,
+either. A lot of it's good, hard muscle."
+
+"Yes, it is! I can see you getting muscle lying around on your father's
+yacht! I'm off you, Kewpie. You haven't acted square. You knew mighty
+well that you were supposed to keep yourself fit this summer, and now
+look at you! You're a big fat lump!"
+
+"Aw, say, Joe! Listen, will you?" Proudtree's gaze wandered in search of
+inspiration and fell on the twins. His face lighted. "Hello, you chaps!"
+he said. Then he leaned over and spoke to Joe. "Say, have you met the
+Turner brothers, Joe? One of 'em's a swell player. Played out in North
+Dakota or somewhere."
+
+"Which one?" asked Joe, surreptitiously eying the twins. "Why, the--I
+forget: they look so much alike, you know. I think it's the one this
+way. Or maybe it's the other. Anyway, I'll fetch them over, eh?"
+
+"All right, Kewpie."
+
+Kewpie started away, paused, and spoke again. "They're--they're awfully
+modest chaps, Joe. You'd think from hearing them talk that they didn't
+know much about the game, but don't you be fooled. That's just their
+way. You understand."
+
+"Oh, sure, Kewpie!" And when the latter had gone on his errand Joe
+smiled and, lowering his voice, said to Frank Brattle: "Kewpie's trying
+to put something over. I wonder what."
+
+"Proudtree tells me one of you fellows plays football," said Joe, a
+minute later, when introductions had been performed and Ned and Laurie
+had seated themselves. "We need good players this fall. Of course, I
+hope you'll both come out."
+
+"Ned's the football chap," said Laurie. "Baseball's my line."
+
+"I don't know--" began Ned, but Laurie pinched him warningly, and he
+gulped and, to Kewpie's evident relief, made a fresh start. "I'm not
+much of a player," he said modestly, "but I'm willing to have a try at
+it."
+
+Kewpie darted an "I-told-you-so" glance at Joe and Frank.
+
+"Where do you come from, Turner?" Joe asked politely.
+
+"Santa Lucia, California. I was in the high school there two years.
+Everything's quite--quite different here." Ned spoke hurriedly, as
+though anxious to switch the conversation from football, and Laurie
+smiled in wicked enjoyment. "The climate's different, you know," Ned
+went on desperately, "and the country and--and everything."
+
+"I suppose so," said Frank Brattle. "What's your position, Turner?"
+
+"Position?"
+
+"Yes; I mean, where did you play? Behind the line, I suppose, or maybe
+end."
+
+"Oh, yes, yes, behind the line. You see, I--I--"
+
+"There aren't many fellows can play half-back the way Ned can," said
+Laurie, gravely. "He won't tell you so, but if you ever meet any one who
+saw him play against Weedon School last year--"
+
+"Shut up!" begged Ned, almost tearfully.
+
+Kewpie was grinning delightedly. Joe Stevenson viewed Ned with absolute
+affection. "Half-back, eh? Well, we can use another good half, Turner,
+and I hope you're the fellow. I don't know whether Kewpie told you that
+I'm captain this year, but I am, and I'm going to try mighty hard to
+captain a winning team. You look a bit light, but I dare say you're
+fast, and, for my part, I like them that way. Besides, we've got Mason
+and Boessel if we want the heavy sort. Practice starts to-morrow at
+four, by the way. How about your brother? Glad to have him come out,
+too. Even if he hasn't played, he might learn the trick. And there's
+next year to think of, you know."
+
+"I think not, thanks," answered Laurie. "One football star is enough in
+the family."
+
+"Well, if you change your mind, come on and have a try. Glad to have met
+you. See you to-morrow--er--Turner. I want to find Dave, Frank. Coming
+along?"
+
+The two older boys made off toward West Hall, and as soon as they were
+out of hearing Ned turned indignantly on Laurie.
+
+"You're a nice one!" he hissed. "Look at the hole you've got me in!
+'Half-back'! 'Played against Weedon School'! What did you want to talk
+that way for? Why, those fellows think I know football!"
+
+"Cheer up," answered his brother, grinning. "All you've got to do is
+bluff it through. Besides, Proudtree asked us not to let on we didn't
+know a football from a doughnut, and I had to say something! You acted
+as if you were tongue-tied!"
+
+"Yes; that's so--you started it!" Ned turned belligerently around. "Said
+it would be a favor to you--" He stopped, discovering that Proudtree had
+silently disappeared and that he was wasting his protests on the empty
+air. "Huh!" he resumed after a moment of surprise, "it's a good thing he
+did beat it! Look here, Laurie, I'm in a beast of a mess. Yow know I
+can't face that captain chap to-morrow. Suppose he handed me a football
+and told me to kick it!"
+
+"He won't. I've watched football practice back home. You'll stand around
+in a circle--"
+
+"How the dickens can I stand in a circle?" objected Ned.
+
+"And pass a football for a while. Then you'll try starting, and maybe
+fall on the ball a few times, until you're nice and lame, and after that
+you'll run around the track half a dozen times--"
+
+"Oh, shut up! You make me sick! I won't do it. I'm through. I'd look
+fine, wouldn't I? I guess not, partner!"
+
+"You've got to, Ned," replied Laurie calmly. "You can't back down now.
+The honor of the Turners is at stake! Come on up and I'll read that
+rules book to you. Maybe some of it'll seep in!"
+
+After a moment of indecision Ned arose and followed silently.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V--IN THE PERFORMANCE OF DUTY
+
+
+School began in earnest the next morning. Ned and Laurie were awakened
+from a deep slumber by the imperative clanging of a gong. There were
+hurried trips to the bath-room, and finally a descent to the
+recreation-room and morning prayers. Breakfast followed in the pleasant,
+sunlit dining-hall, and at half-past eight the twins went to their first
+class. There wasn't much real work performed that morning, however.
+Books were bought and, being again in possession of funds, Ned purchased
+lavishly of stationery and supplies. He had a veritable passion for
+patent binders, scratch-pads, blank-books, and pencils, and Laurie
+viewed the result of a half-hour's mad career with unconcealed concern.
+
+"You're all wrong, Ned," he said earnestly. "We aren't opening a
+stationery emporium. Besides, we can't begin to compete with the office.
+They buy at wholesale, and--"
+
+"Never mind the comedy. You'll be helping yourself to these things soon
+enough, and then you won't be so funny."
+
+"That's the only way they'll ever get used up! Why, you've got enough
+truck there to last three years!"
+
+There was one interesting annual observance that morning that the twins
+witnessed inadvertently. At a little after eight the fellows began to
+assemble in front of School Hall. Ned and Laurie, joining the throng,
+supposed that it was merely awaiting the half-hour, until presently
+there appeared at the gate a solitary youth of some fourteen years, who
+came up the circling drive about as joyfully as a French Royalist
+approaching the guillotine. Deep silence prevailed until the embarrassed
+and unhappy youth had conquered half of the interminable distance. Then
+a loud "_Hep!_" was heard, and the throng broke into a measured refrain:
+
+"_Hep!--Hep!--Hep!--Hep!_"
+
+This was in time to the boy's dogged steps. A look of consternation came
+into his face and he faltered. Then, however, he set his jaw, looked
+straight ahead, and came on determinedly.
+
+"_Hep!--Hep!_"
+
+Up the steps he passed, a disk of color in each cheek, looking neither
+to right nor left, and passed from sight. As he did so, the chorus
+changed to a good-humored laugh of approval. Ned made inquiry of a youth
+beside him.
+
+"Day boy," was the explanation. "There are ten of them, you know:
+fellows who live in town. We always give them a welcome. That chap had
+spunk, but you wait and see some of them!"
+
+Two more followed together, and, each upheld in that moment of trial by
+the presence of the other, passed through the ordeal with flying colors.
+But the twins noted that the laughing applause was lacking. After that,
+the remaining seven arrived almost on each other's heels and the air was
+filled with "_Heps!_" Some looked only surprised, others angry; but most
+of then grinned in a sickly, embarrassed way and went by with hanging
+heads.
+
+"Sort of tough," was Ned's verdict, and Laurie agreed as they followed
+the last victim inside.
+
+"It looks as if day students weren't popular," he added.
+
+Later, though, he found that he was wrong. The boys who lived in the
+village were accepted without reservation, but, naturally enough, seldom
+attained to a full degree of intimacy with those who lived in the
+dormitories.
+
+By afternoon the twins had become well shaken down into the new life,
+had made several superficial acquaintances, and had begun to feel at
+home. Of Kewpie Proudtree they had caught but fleeting glimpses, for
+that youth displayed a tendency to keep at a distance. As the hour of
+four o'clock approached, Ned became more and more worried, and his
+normally sunny countenance took on an expression of deep gloom. Laurie
+kept close at his side, fearing that courage would fail and Ned would
+bring disgrace to the tribe of Turner. But Laurie ought to have known
+better, for Ned was never what his fellows would have called a
+"quitter." Ned meant to see it through. His mind had retained very
+little of the football lore that his brother had poured into it the
+night before, but he had, at least, a somewhat clearer idea of the
+general principles of the game. He knew, for instance, that a team
+comprised eleven players instead of the twelve he had supposed, and that
+certain restrictions governed the methods by which you might wrest the
+ball from an opponent. Thus, you could not legally snatch it out of his
+arms, nor trip him up in the hope that he would drop it. Ned thought the
+restrictions rather silly, but accepted them.
+
+The athletic field, known in school parlance as the play-field, was even
+larger than it had looked from their windows. It held two gridirons and
+three baseball diamonds, as well as a quarter-mile track and ten
+tennis-courts. There was also a picturesque and well-appointed
+field-house and a fairly large grand stand. To Ned's relief, most of the
+ninety students were in attendance, though only about forty of the
+number were in playing togs. Ned's idea was that among so many he might
+escape close observation.
+
+He had, of course, handled a football more or less, and he was possessed
+of his full share of common sense. Besides, he had perhaps rather more
+than his share of assurance. To his own surprise, if not to Laurie's, he
+got through the hour and a half of practice very creditably. Seasoned
+candidates and novices were on the same plane to-day. There was, first
+of all, a talk by the coach. Mr. Mulford was a short, broad,
+good-humored man of about thirty, with a round and florid countenance,
+which possibly accounted for the nickname of "Pinky" that the school had
+affectionately awarded him. His real name was Stephen, and he had played
+guard, and played it well, for several years with Trinity College. This
+was his fourth season as football coach at Hillman's and his third as
+baseball coach. So far he had been fairly successful in both sports.
+
+His talk was brief and earnest, although he smiled through it all. He
+wanted lots of material, but he didn't want any fellow to report for
+practice who didn't mean to do his level best and stick it out. Those
+who were afraid of either hard work or hard knocks had better save their
+time and his. Those who did report would get a fair trial and no favor.
+He meant to see the best team this fall that Hillman's School had ever
+turned out, one that would start with a rush and finish with a bang,
+like a rocket!
+
+"And," he went on, "I want this team made up the way a rocket is. A
+rocket is filled with stars, fellows, but you don't realize it until the
+final burst. So we're going to put the soft pedal on individual
+brilliancy this year. It almost had us licked last fall, as you'll
+remember. This year we're going to try hard for a well-rounded team of
+hard workers, fellows who will interlock and gear together. It's the
+machine that wins, the machine of eleven parts that work all together in
+oil. We're going to find the eleven parts first, and after that we're
+going to do the oiling. All right now! Ten men to a squad. Get balls and
+pass in circles. Learn to hold the ball when you catch it. Glue right to
+it. And when you pass, put it where you want it to go. Don't think that
+the work is silly and unnecessary, because it isn't. A fellow who can't
+hold a ball when it comes to him is of no use on this team. So keep your
+minds right on the job and your eyes right on the ball. All right,
+Captain Stevenson."
+
+At least, Ned could, to quote Laurie, "stand in a circle" and pass a
+football, and he did, and did it better than several others in his
+squad. In the same way, he could go after a trickling pigskin and catch
+it up without falling over himself, though it is possible that his
+"form" was less graceful than that of one or two of his fellows. When,
+later, they were formed in a line and started off by the snapping of the
+ball in the hands of a world-wearied youth in a faded blue sweater
+bearing a white H on its breast, Ned didn't show up so well, for he was
+almost invariably one of the last to plunge forward. The blue-sweatered
+youth called his attention to the fact finally in a few well-chosen
+words.
+
+"You guy in the brown bloomers!" he bellowed. (Of course they weren't
+bloomers, but a pair of somewhat expansive golf breeches that Ned,
+lacking proper attire, had donned, not without misgivings, on Laurie's
+advice.) "Are you asleep? Put some life into it! Watch this ball, and
+when you see it roll, jump! You don't look like a cripple, but you
+surely act like one!"
+
+Toward the end a half-dozen last-year fellows took to punting, but, to
+Ned's relief, no one suggested that he take a hand at it, and at
+half-past five or thereabouts his trials came to an end. He went out of
+his way, dodging behind a group on the side-line, to escape Joe
+Stevenson, but ran plump into Frank Brattle instead.
+
+"Hello, Turner," Frank greeted. "How did it go?"
+
+"All right," replied Ned, with elaborate carelessness. "Fine."
+
+"Rather a nuisance having to go through the kindergarten stunts, isn't
+it?" continued the other, sympathetically. "Mulford's a great hand at
+what he calls the fundamentals, though. I dare say he's right, too. It's
+funny how easy it is to get out of the hang of things during the summer.
+I'm as stiff as a broom!"
+
+"So am I," answered Ned, earnestly and truthfully. Frank smiled, nodded,
+and wandered on, and Ned, sighting Laurie hunched up in the grand stand,
+joined him. "It's a bully game, football," he sighed, as he lowered
+himself cautiously to a seat and listened to hear his muscles creak.
+"Full of beneficial effects and all that." Laurie grinned in silence.
+Ned felt experimentally of his back, frowned, rocked himself backward
+and forward twice, and looked relieved. "I guess there's nothing
+actually broken," he murmured, "I dare say it'll be all right soon."
+
+"They say the first two months are the hardest," responded Laurie,
+comfortingly. "After that there's no sensation."
+
+Ned nodded. "I believe it," he said feelingly. He fixed his gaze on the
+farther goal-post and after a minute of silence remarked:
+
+"I'd like to catch the man who invented football!"
+
+He turned a challenging look on his brother. Laurie blinked and for
+several seconds his lips moved noiselessly and there was a haunted look
+in his gray eyes. Then, triumphantly, he completed the couplet: "It may
+suit some, but it doesn't suit all!"
+
+"Rotten!" said Ned.
+
+"I'd like to see you do any better," answered Laurie, aggrievedly.
+"There isn't any proper rhyme for 'football,' anyway."
+
+"Nor any reason for it, either. Of all--"
+
+"Hi, you fellow!" interrupted a scandalized voice. "What are you doing
+up there? Have you done your two laps?"
+
+The speaker was a lanky, red-haired man who bristled with authority and
+outrage.
+
+"Two laps?" stammered Ned. "No, sir."
+
+"Get at it, then. And beat it in when you have. Want to catch cold, do
+you? Sitting around without a blanket or anything like that!" The
+trainer shot a final disgusted look at the offender and went on.
+
+"Gee," murmured Ned, "I thought I was done! Two laps, he said! I'll
+never be able to, Laurie!"
+
+"Oh, yes, you will," was the cheerful response. "And while you're doing
+them you can think up a better rhyme for 'football' than I did!"
+
+Ned looked back reproachfully as he limped to the ground and, having
+gained the running-track, set off at a stiff-kneed jog. Laurie's
+expression relented as he watched.
+
+"Sort of tough on the kid," he muttered sympathetically. Then his face
+hardened again and he shook his head. "I've got to be stern with him,
+though!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI--NED IS FIRM
+
+
+Kewpie Proudtree obeyed the shouted invitation to enter Number 16 and
+appeared with a countenance as innocent as that of an infant. "Hello,
+fellows," he said cordially, dropping into a chair with indications of
+exhaustion. "How do you like it as far as you've gone?"
+
+Ned shifted in his seat at the study-table, choking back a groan, and
+fixed Kewpie with a baleful look. "Listen, Proudtree," he said sternly.
+"I've got a bone to pick with you!"
+
+"With me?" Kewpie stared in amazement. "What have I done?"
+
+"You've got me into a fix, that's what you've done! Didn't you ask
+me--us--last night not to let on to Stevenson that we--I--couldn't play
+football? Didn't you say it would be a favor to you? Didn't you say it
+would be all right and--and everything?"
+
+"Sure! What of it?"
+
+"Why, you crazy galoot, you must have told him that I knew all about the
+game! And you knew mighty well I didn't! Stevenson thinks I'm a wonder,
+and I don't know a touch-down from a--a forward kick!"
+
+"Pass, not kick," corrected Kewpie, patiently. "Look here, Turner-- Say,
+are you Ned or Laurie? Blessed if I can tell!"
+
+"Ned," replied that youth, with much dignity.
+
+"Guess I'll have to call you Ned, then. Can't call you both Turner. You
+understand. It was like this, Ned. You see, I want to stand in with Joe
+Stevenson. It--it's for the good of the school. If they don't play me at
+center this fall, who are they going to play? Well, Joe thought I--well,
+he seemed to think I hadn't acted just right about keeping my weight
+down. He--he was sort of peeved with me. So I wanted to smooth him down
+a bit. You understand. That's why I told him what I did."
+
+"Well, what _did_ you tell him?"
+
+"Why, I sort of--well, it wasn't what I _said_ exactly; it was what he
+thought I meant!"
+
+"Proudtree, you're telling a whopper," said Ned, sternly. "And you told
+one to Stevenson, too, or I miss my guess."
+
+"I only said that you were a swell football-player."
+
+"For the love of lemons! What do you call that but a whopper?"
+
+Kewpie looked both ashamed and distressed. He swallowed hard and glanced
+furtively at Laurie as though hoping for aid. But Laurie looked as
+unsympathetic as Ned. Kewpie sighed dolefully. "I--I suppose it was," he
+acknowledged. "I didn't think about that. I'm sorry, Ned, honest! I
+didn't mean to tell what wasn't so. I just wanted to get Joe's mind off
+his troubles. You understand."
+
+"Well, you got me in a mess," grumbled Ned. "I got by all right to-day,
+I suppose, but what's going to happen to-morrow?"
+
+Kewpie evidently didn't know, for he stared morosely at the floor for a
+long minute. Finally, "I'll go to Joe and fess up if--if you say so," he
+gulped.
+
+"I think you ought to," responded Ned.
+
+"Where's the sense in that?" demanded Laurie. "What good would it do?
+Proudtree did fib, but he didn't mean to. I mean he didn't do it for
+harm. If he goes and tells Stevenson that he fibbed, Stevenson will have
+it in for him harder than ever; and he will have it in for you, too,
+Ned. Maybe he will think it was a scheme that you and Proudtree hatched
+together. That's a punk idea, I say. Best thing to do is prove that
+Proudtree didn't fib."
+
+"How?" asked Ned.
+
+"Why, Proudtree--"
+
+"There's an awful lot of that 'Proudtree' stuff," complained the
+visitor. "Would you mind calling me Kewpie?"
+
+"All right. Well, Kewpie told Captain Stevenson that you are a swell
+player. Go ahead and be one."
+
+"Huh, sounds easy the way you say it," scoffed Ned; "but how can I, when
+I don't know anything about the silly game? I wish to goodness you'd
+taken up football instead of me!"
+
+"You got through to-day all right, didn't you?" asked Laurie. "Well,
+keep it up. Keep your eyes open and learn. You can do it. You're no
+fool, even if you haven't my intellect. Besides, you're the best little
+fakir that ever came over the range."
+
+"You can't fake kicking a football," said Ned, scathingly.
+
+"Look here!" exclaimed Kewpie, his round face illumined by a great idea.
+"Tell you what, Ned! I'll show you how to kick!"
+
+The silence that greeted the offer might have offended a more sensitive
+youth, but Kewpie went on with enthusiasm. "Of course, I'm no wonder at
+it. I'm a little too short in the leg and, right now, I--I'm a bit
+heavy; but I used to kick and I know how it ought to be done. Say we
+have a half-hour or so at it every morning for a while?"
+
+"Wouldn't Stevenson know what was up?" asked Ned, dubiously.
+
+"He needn't know. We'll go over to the lot behind the grammar school.
+Even if he saw us, he'd think we were having some fun."
+
+"He must have a strange idea of fun," sighed Ned. "Still, if you want to
+take the trouble--"
+
+"Glad to! Besides, I owe you something for--for getting you in wrong.
+And I can put you wise to a lot of little things about handling a ball.
+We could do some passing, for instance. Wonder who's got a ball we could
+borrow. I'll find one somewhere. You understand. Now, what hour have you
+got free in the morning?"
+
+A comparison of schedules showed that on two mornings a week the boys
+could meet at ten, and on two other mornings at ten-thirty. The
+remaining days were not accommodating, however.
+
+"Well, even four times a week will show results," said Kewpie,
+cheerfully. "This is Thursday. We'll have the first lesson Saturday at
+ten."
+
+"I hope they don't ask me to do any kicking before then," said Ned.
+
+"Not likely. You'll get about the same stuff to-morrow as you had
+to-day. You'll get by, take my word for it. That's settled, then."
+Kewpie referred to an ornate gold wrist-watch. "It's after eight. You're
+going over to Johnny's, aren't you!"
+
+"Johnny's?" repeated Laurie. "Oh, Doctor Hillman's! I suppose so. What's
+it like?"
+
+"Oh, it isn't bad. The eats are pretty fair. Anyway, he sort of likes
+the fellows to go, and he's a good sort. You'll be introduced to the
+faculty and their wives, if they have any, and meet a lot of fellows
+whose names you'll forget the next minute. Take my advice and sort of
+work in toward the dining-room. Last year, the harlequin ice-cream gave
+out before I could get to the table." Kewpie sighed. "Tabby has bully
+cake, too, and I'm off of cake. Isn't that rotten luck?"
+
+"Awful!" laughed Ned. "You going over now?"
+
+"Yes. Come on and I'll introduce you to some of the fellows you ought to
+know. I'll wash my dirty paws and meet you in two minutes."
+
+The principal's reception proved rather enjoyable. The "eats" were
+excellent and, under Kewpie's guidance, the twins reached the long table
+in the dining-room well in advance of the crowd. As Laurie remarked
+afterward, it was worth the amount of trouble involved just to watch
+Kewpie's mouth water as he gazed soulfully at the chocolate layer-cake.
+To his credit be it narrated that he manfully resisted it. Besides
+consuming much delectable food, the twins were impressively introduced
+by their guide to a number of their fellow-students, the introduction
+being prefaced in each case by a sort of biographical note, as: "There's
+Dan Whipple. The tall fellow with the trick collar, talking to Mrs.
+Wells. Rows stroke on the crew. Senior class president. Honor man last
+year. President of Attic, too. Good chap to know. Come on." In such
+manner they met at least a half-dozen school notables, most of whom were
+extremely affable to the new boys. Sometimes, to be sure, the twins had
+a suspicion that Kewpie was pretending a closer intimacy with a notable
+than in fact existed, but he always "got away with it."
+
+The only fly in the ointment of the evening's enjoyment occurred when
+Kewpie mischievously introduced them to Mrs. Pennington, the wife of the
+Greek and Latin instructor, and sneaked away. Mrs. Pennington was tall
+and extremely thin, and viewed the world through a pair of
+tortoise-shell spectacles. She had a high voice and what Ned termed a
+"very Lake Superior" manner, and, since she confined her conversation to
+the benefits to be derived from an earnest study of the Latin poets,
+philosophers, and historians, the twins were not happy. Fortunately,
+very little was demanded from them conversationally, Mrs. Pennington
+being quite competent to do all the talking. But, unfortunately, she
+gave them no chance to get away. Ned descried Kewpie grinning
+heartlessly from the doorway and rewarded him with a terrific and
+threatening scowl. Kewpie, however, waved blandly and faded into the
+night. Release came to them at last and they scurried away, neglecting,
+in their hurried departure, to say good night either to the doctor or
+Miss Tabitha, a breach of etiquette which probably passed unnoted by the
+hosts. Back in East Hall, the twins hammered loudly at Number 15, but
+Kewpie was either absent or discreet. At any rate, there was no
+response, and revenge had to be postponed.
+
+To Laurie's surprise, a notice on the bulletin-board in the corridor of
+School Hall the following morning announced that autumn baseball
+practice would begin that afternoon. He had supposed that his hour to
+offer himself on the altar of school patriotism would not arrive until
+the next spring; and later, when he strode down Walnut Street with Ned,
+in search of football togs for the latter, he broached the subject
+diplomatically.
+
+"Funny idea to have baseball practice this time of year, I think," he
+remarked carelessly. "Not much good in it. A fellow would forget
+anything he learned by next April."
+
+"Didn't know they did," replied Ned, uninterestedly. "Who told you
+that?"
+
+"Oh, there was a notice on the board in School Hall. Don't believe many
+fellows go out in the fall."
+
+"Thought baseball was a spring and summer game. Still, I dare say you
+can play it just as well now. Seems to me I've heard of having spring
+football practice, haven't you?"
+
+"I dare say. Crazy scheme, though, playing games out of season."
+
+"Ye-es." Ned went on thoughtfully a moment Then he shot a suspicious
+glance at his brother. "You going out?" he demanded.
+
+"N-no, I don't think so," answered Laurie, lightly. "There's that
+building we had the bet on the other day. We never did find out--"
+
+"Never you mind about that building," interrupted Ned, severely. "I'm on
+to you, partner. You're trying to renege on baseball. Well, it doesn't
+go! You're a baseball hero and you've got to get busy!"
+
+"Aw, Ned, have a heart! There's plenty of time--"
+
+"No, sir, by jiminy! You got me slaving for the dear old school, now you
+do your bit!"
+
+"Yes, but it isn't fair to start the baseball season in September. You
+know it isn't."
+
+"Cut out the alibis! You can get some baseball togs right now. Good
+thing you spoke of it. What'll you need?"
+
+"All I need is kindness," wailed Laurie. "Ned, I don't want to be a
+hero! I don't want to save the dear old school from defeat in the ninth
+inning! I--I--"
+
+"You're going to do as you agreed to," answered Ned, grimly. "Remember
+that the honor of the Turners is at stake!"
+
+Laurie sighed deeply. Then, "You speak of honor! Say no more. I yield,"
+he declaimed dramatically.
+
+"You bet you do," answered Ned, unhesitatingly. "You for the baseball
+field!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII--HIGH SCHOOL ACCEPTS DEFEAT
+
+
+A week passed, and the twins began to feel like old residents. They had
+ceased being "the Turner twins" to acquaintances, although others still
+referred to them so, and their novelty had so far worn off that they
+could enter a classroom or walk side by side across the yard without
+being conscious of the rapt, almost incredulous stares of the beholders.
+To merely casual acquaintances they were known as Ned and Laurie; to a
+few friends they had become Nid and Nod. Kewpie was responsible for
+that. He had corrupted "Ned" into "Nid," after which it was impossible
+for Laurie to be anything but "Nod." Laurie had demurred for a time,
+demanding to be informed who Nod had been. Kewpie couldn't tell him,
+being of the hazy belief that Nid and Nod were brothers in some fairy
+story he had once read, but he earnestly assured Laurie that both had
+been most upright and wholly estimable persons. Anyhow, Laurie's
+objections wouldn't have accomplished much, for others had been prompt
+to adopt the nicknames and all the protests in the world wouldn't have
+caused them to drop them. These others weren't many in number, however:
+Kewpie and Thurman Kendrick and Lee Murdock and George Watson about made
+up the list of them at this time.
+
+Kendrick was Kewpie's room-mate, a smallish, black-haired, very earnest
+youth of sixteen, which age was also Kewpie's. Thurman was familiarly
+known as "Hop," although the twins never learned why. He was a candidate
+for quarter-back on the eleven and took his task very seriously. Lee
+Murdock was one of the baseball crowd, and Laurie had scraped
+acquaintance with him on the diamond during a practice game. The word
+"scraped" is used advisedly, for Laurie, in sliding to second base, had
+spiked much of the skin from Lee's ankle. Of such incidents are
+friendships formed! Lee was two years older than Laurie, a big, rather
+raw-boned fellow with a mop of ash-colored hair and very bright blue
+eyes.
+
+George Watson was sixteen, an upper middler, and, as Laurie frequently
+assured him, no fit associate for a respectable fellow. To the latter
+assertion George cheerfully agreed, adding that he always avoided such.
+He came from Wyoming and had brought with him a breeziness of manner
+that his acquaintances, rightly or wrongly, described as "wild and
+woolly." Of the four, Kewpie and George were more often found in company
+with the twins.
+
+There had been four lessons in kicking on an open lot behind the grammar
+school, two short blocks away, and while Ned had not yet mastered the
+gentle art of hurtling a football through the air, Kewpie was
+enthusiastic about his pupil's progress. "Why, geewhillikins, Nid," he
+broke forth after the fourth session, "you're a born kicker! Honest you
+are! You've got a corking swing and a lot of drive. You--you've got real
+_form_, that's what you've got. You understand. And you certainly do
+learn! Of course, you haven't got it all from me, because you've been
+punting in practice two or three times, but I take some of the credit."
+
+"You've got a right to," responded Ned. "You've taught me a lot more
+than I've learned on the field. Gee, if it hadn't been for you I'd been
+afraid even to try a punt over there! You ought to see the puzzled way
+that Pope looks at me sometimes. He can't seem to make me out, because,
+I suppose, Joe Stevenson told him I was a crackajack. Yesterday he said,
+'You get good distance, Turner, and your direction isn't bad, but you
+never punt twice the same way!'"
+
+"Well, you don't," laughed Kewpie. "But you'll get over that just as
+soon as I can get it into your thick head that the right way's the best
+and there's only one right!"
+
+"I know," said Ned, humbly. "I mean to do the way you say, but I sort of
+forget."
+
+"That's because you try to think of too many things at once. Stop
+thinking about your leg and just remember the ball and keep your eyes on
+it until it's in the air. That's the secret, Nid. I heard Joe telling
+Pinky the other day that you'd ought to shape up well for next year."
+
+"Next year!" exclaimed Ned, dubiously. "Gee! mean to tell me I'm going
+through all this work for next year?"
+
+"Well, you might get a place this year, for all you know," replied
+Kewpie, soothingly. "Just keep on coming, Nid. If you could only--well,
+if you had just a bit more _speed_ now, got started quicker, you know,
+Pinky would have you on the second squad in no time, I believe. You're
+all right after you get started, but--you understand."
+
+"I do the best I know how," sighed Ned. "I suppose I am slow on the
+get-away, though. Corson is always calling me down about it. Oh, well,
+what do I care? I don't own it."
+
+"I'd like to see you make good, though," said Kewpie. "Besides, remember
+the honor of the Turners!"
+
+Ned laughed. "Laurie will look after that. He's doing great things in
+baseball, if you believe him, and it wouldn't be right for us to capture
+all the athletic honors."
+
+"You make me weary!" grunted Kewpie. "Say, don't you California chaps
+ever have any pep?"
+
+"California, old scout, is famous for its pep. We grow it for market out
+there. Why, I've seen a hundred acres planted to it!"
+
+"You have, eh? Well, it's a big shame you didn't bring a sprig of it
+East with you, you lazy lummox! Some day I'm going to drop a cockle-burr
+down your back and see if you don't show some action!"
+
+Hillman's started her season on the following Saturday with Orstead High
+School. As neither team had seen much practice, the contest didn't show
+a very high grade of football. The teams played four ten-minute
+quarters, consuming a good two hours of elapsed time in doing it, their
+members spending many precious moments prone on the turf. The weather
+was miserably warm for football and the players were still pretty soft.
+
+Kewpie derived great satisfaction from the subsequent discovery that he
+had dropped three quarter pounds and was within a mere seven pounds of
+his desired weight. Had he played the game through instead of yielding
+the center position to Holmes at the beginning of the last half, he
+might have reached his goal that afternoon. Ned and Laurie wounded him
+deeply by declaring that there was no apparent improvement in his
+appearance.
+
+Ned saw the game from the substitutes' bench, and Laurie from the stand.
+High School turned out a full attendance and, since Hillman's was
+outnumbered two to one, "O. H. S." colors and cheers predominated.
+Laurie sat with Lee Murdock, who, as a baseball enthusiast, professed a
+great scorn of football. (There was no practice on the diamond that
+afternoon.) Lee amused himself by making ridiculous comments in a voice
+audible for many yards around.
+
+"That's piffle!" he declared on one occasion, when the ground was strewn
+with tired, panting players. "The umpire said, 'Third down,' but if they
+aren't three quarters down, I'll treat the crowd! The trouble with those
+fellows is that they didn't get enough sleep last night. Any one can see
+that. Why, I can hear that big chap snoring 'way over here!" Again,
+"That brother of yours is playing better than any of them," he asserted.
+
+"Ned? Why, he isn't in! He's on the bench down there."
+
+"Sure! That's what I mean. You don't see him grabbing the ball away from
+Brattle and losing two or three yards at a time. No, sir; he just sits
+right there, half asleep, and makes High School _work_ for the game.
+Every time he doesn't take the ball, Nod, he saves us three or four
+yards. He's a hero, that's what he is. If Mulford would get all the rest
+of them back on the bench, we might win."
+
+"You're crazy," laughed Laurie.
+
+During the intermission, Laurie's wandering gaze fell on two girls a
+dozen seats away. One, whom he had never seen before, displayed a
+cherry-and-black pennant and belonged unmistakably to the high school
+cohort. She was a rather jolly-looking girl, Laurie decided, with a good
+deal of straw-colored hair and a pink-and-white skin. Her companion was
+evidently divided as to allegiance, for she had a cherry-and-black
+ribbon pinned on the front of her dress and wore a dark-blue silken
+arm-band. For a moment Laurie wondered why she looked familiar to him.
+Then he recognized her as Polly Deane. The two girls appeared to be
+alone, although some boys in the row behind were talking to them.
+
+So far, the twins had not been back to the little shop on Pine Street,
+but Laurie resolved now that he would drop around there very soon and
+pay his bill before his money was gone. After paying the school bill for
+the first half-year, he and Ned had shared slightly more than twenty
+dollars, but since then there had been many expenses. They had each had
+to purchase playing togs and stationery, and, finally, had donated two
+dollars apiece to the football fund at the mass-meeting Friday night of
+the week before.
+
+Viewed from a financial standpoint, that meeting hadn't been a great
+success, and it was no secret that, unless more money was forthcoming,
+the team would be obliged to cancel at least one of its away-from-home
+games. But it had resulted in bringing out a big field of candidates,
+and there had been a lot of enthusiasm. The next day, viewing his
+reduced exchequer, Laurie had ruefully observed that he guessed a dollar
+would have been enough to give, but Ned had called him a "piker" and a
+"tight-wad" and other scornful things. Yesterday Ned had borrowed half a
+dollar, which was more than a fourth of Laurie's remaining cash; and the
+first of October was still a week distant. Realizing the latter fact,
+Laurie changed his mind about settling his account at the Widow Deane's.
+But, he reflected, with another friendly glance in Polly's direction, it
+wouldn't be right to withhold his trade from the store. And he wasn't
+anywhere near the limit of indebtedness yet!
+
+Two listless periods followed the intermission, the only inspiring
+incident coming when, near the end of the third quarter, Pope, Hillman's
+full-back, foiled in his attempt to get a forward pass away, smashed
+past the enemy and around his left end for a run that placed the pigskin
+six yards short of the last white line. From there the home team managed
+to push its way to a touch-down, the third and last score of the day.
+The final figures were 10 to 7 in Hillman's favor, and neither side was
+very proud of the outcome.
+
+Ned returned to Number 16 half an hour later in a most critical frame of
+mind, and spent ten minutes explaining to Laurie just when and how the
+school team had failed. At last Laurie interrupted him to ask, "Have you
+told this to Mr. Mulford, Ned?"
+
+"Mr. Mulford? Why--oh, go to the dickens!"
+
+"Seems to me he ought to know," said Laurie, gravely.
+
+"That's all right. You can be sarcastic if you like, but I'm talking
+horse-sense. You see a lot of things from the bench that you don't see
+from the stand. Besides, you've got to know football to understand it.
+Now you take--"
+
+"I beg your pardon! Did you say anything about understanding football?"
+
+"Well, I understand a lot more about it than you do," replied the other,
+warmly. "I've been playing it a week, haven't I?"
+
+"Sure, but I'll bet you don't know how much a safety counts!"
+
+"I don't need to. That's up to the referee. But I know some football,
+just the same. And I punted forty-seven yards yesterday, too!"
+
+"In how many punts?" inquired Laurie, innocently.
+
+Ned threw a book at him and the subject was closed.
+
+In his own line, baseball, Laurie was not setting the world on fire. He
+was gaining a familiarity with the position of center fielder on the
+scrub nine, and batting practice was at least not doing him any harm.
+But he certainly had displayed no remarkable ability; and if Ned had
+gained a notion to the contrary, it was merely because it pleased Laurie
+to fool him with accounts of imaginary incidents in which he, Laurie,
+had shone most brilliantly. As Ned knew even less about baseball than he
+had known of football, almost any fairy-tale "went" with him, and Laurie
+derived much amusement thereby; decidedly more, in fact, than he derived
+from playing!
+
+On Monday morning Laurie dragged Ned over to the Widow Deane's for
+ginger-ale, professing a painful thirst. The Widow greeted them
+pleasantly, recalling their names, and provided them with the requested
+beverage. Laurie's thirst seemed to have passed, for he had difficulty
+in consuming his portion. When, presently, he asked politely about
+Polly, it developed that that young lady was quite well enough to attend
+high school as usual. Laurie said, "Oh!" and silently promised himself
+that the next time he got thirsty it would be in the afternoon. Ned ate
+two doughnuts and was hesitating over raspberry tarts when Laurie
+dragged him away. "Can't you think of anything but eating?" demanded the
+latter, disgustedly. Ned only blinked.
+
+"Ginger-ale always makes me hungry," he explained calmly.
+
+Two days later, the twins awoke to cloudy skies, and by mid-forenoon a
+lazy drizzle was falling, which later turned to a downright tempest of
+wind and rain. At four the baseball candidates scooted to the
+field-house for cover, although, peering forth through a drenched
+window, Laurie discerned the football-players still at work. Lee Murdock
+said he guessed the equinoctial storm had come, and that if it had
+there'd be no practice for a couple of days. Laurie tried to look
+broken-hearted and failed dismally. Taking advantage of a lull in the
+downpour, he and Lee, with many of the others, set forth for school.
+They were still far short of the gymnasium, however, when the torrent
+began again, and it was a wet, bedraggled, and breathless crowd that
+presently pushed through the door.
+
+George Watson, who had been playing tennis before the rain started, was
+philosophically regarding a pair of "unshrinkable" flannel trousers
+which, so he declared, had already receded an inch at the bottoms. It
+was George who suggested that, after changing to dry clothing, they go
+over to the Widow's and have ice-cream at his expense. Not possessing a
+rain-coat of his own, Laurie invaded Number 15 and borrowed Kewpie's. It
+was many sizes too large, but it answered. The Widow's was full when he
+and George and Lee got there, and the pastry counter looked as though it
+had been visited by an invading army. There was still ice-cream, though,
+and the three squeezed into a corner and became absorbedly silent for a
+space.
+
+Polly was helping her mother, and Laurie exchanged greetings with her,
+but she was far too busy for conversation. Lee treated to a second round
+of ice-cream, and afterward Laurie bought a bag of old-fashioned
+chocolates. He hoped Polly would wait on him, but it was Polly's mother
+who did so and asked after his brother as she filled the paper sack.
+
+"I do hope you're looking after him and that he hasn't eaten those
+raspberry tarts yet," she said pleasantly.
+
+"Yes'm," said Laurie. "I mean, he hasn't." He thought it surprising that
+the Widow Deane was able to tell them apart. Even Kewpie and George
+frequently made mistakes.
+
+It was still pouring when they went out again, and they hurried up the
+street and around the corner into School Park, their progress somewhat
+delayed by the fact that Laurie had placed the bag of candy in an
+outside pocket of Kewpie's capacious rain-coat and that all three had
+difficulty in finding it. Lee had just popped a big chocolate into his
+mouth and George was fumbling into the moist bag when the clouds opened
+suddenly and such a deluge fell as made them gasp. In distance they were
+but a long block from school; but with the rain descending on them as
+though poured from a million buckets, their thought was of immediate
+shelter.
+
+"Wow!" yelped Lee. "Let's get out of this! Here's a house. Come on!"
+
+There was an opening in a high hedge, and a short brick walk from which
+the drops were rebounding knee-high, and, seen dimly through the deluge,
+a porch at the end of it. They reached it in what Laurie called three
+leaps and a jump, and, under shelter of the roof, drew breath and looked
+back into the gray welter. The park was invisible, and even the high
+lilac hedge was only a blurred shape. Lee had to shout to make himself
+heard above the rain.
+
+"Wonder who lives here," he said. "I don't remember this house."
+
+"Sure you do!" said George. "This is the Coventry house. We're on the
+side porch."
+
+"Oh!" Lee gazed doubtfully into the rain. "Well, anyway, it'll do. Gee,
+my trousers are soaked to the knees! How long do you suppose this will
+keep up?"
+
+"You said for two days," answered Laurie, cheerfully, trying to dry his
+neck with a moist handkerchief.
+
+"I mean this shower, you chump!"
+
+"Call this a shower? What's a cloud-burst like in this part of the
+country, then?"
+
+"We don't have such things," answered George, who was peering through a
+side-light into the dim interior. "Say, I thought this place was empty,"
+he continued. "I can see chairs and a table in there."
+
+"No; some one rented it this fall," said Lee. "I noticed the other day
+that the front door was open and the grass had been cut. I wouldn't want
+to live in the place, though."
+
+"Why?" inquired Laurie.
+
+But, before any answer came, the door was suddenly opened within a few
+inches of George's nose and a voice said:
+
+"You fellows had better come inside until it's over."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII--IN THE MISER'S HOUSE
+
+
+The invitation came from a boy of about sixteen, a slim, eminently
+attractive chap, who smiled persuasively through the aperture. Laurie
+knew that he had seen him somewhere, but it was not until they had
+followed, somewhat protestingly, into a hallway and from there into a
+large and shadowy drawing-room that he recognized him as one of the day
+pupils. Lee, it seemed, knew him slightly and called him by name.
+
+"We oughtn't to come in here," Lee apologized. "We're soaking wet,
+Starling."
+
+"It doesn't matter," answered their host. "Wait till I find a match and
+we'll have a fire here."
+
+"Don't bother, please," George protested. "We're going right on in a
+minute."
+
+"Might as well get dry a bit first. The fire's all laid." The boy held a
+match at the grate and in a moment the wood was snapping merrily. "Pull
+up some chairs, fellows. Here, try this. Some rain, isn't it?"
+
+"Rather," agreed Lee. "By the way, do you know Turner? And Watson?" The
+three boys shook hands. "I didn't know you lived here," Lee continued.
+"Saw the house had been taken, but didn't know who had it. Corking big
+place, isn't it?"
+
+Starling laughed. "It's big all right, but it's not so corking. Let me
+have that rain-coat, Turner. The rooms are so frightfully huge that you
+get lost in them! I have the bedroom above this, and the first morning I
+woke up in it I thought I was in the Sahara Desert! This was the only
+place we could find, though, that was for rent, and we had to take it.
+Dad came here on short notice and we didn't have much time to look
+around. Pull up closer to the fire, Watson, and get your feet dry. I've
+got some slippers upstairs if you want to take your shoes off."
+
+"No, thanks. I guess the wet didn't get through. I've seen you over at
+school, haven't I?"
+
+"Yes, I'm a day boy; one of the 'Hep, heps!'"
+
+Lee grinned. "Sort of a mean trick, that, Starling, but they always do
+it every year."
+
+"Wish I'd known about it beforehand. I'd have sneaked over a fence and
+through a window. It was fierce! I was the last fellow to get in this
+fall. Dad made application in August, and some fellow who had entered in
+the spring changed his mind; otherwise I'd have had to go to the high
+school."
+
+"That would have been an awful fate," said George, gravely.
+
+"Oh, I wouldn't have minded. I like Hillman's, though. Do any of you
+chaps play tennis?"
+
+"I try to," answered George.
+
+"Wish you'd give me a game some day. Tennis is about the only thing I
+know much about, and I saw some dandy courts over at the field."
+
+"Glad to," George assured him. "Any day you like, Starling. I'm not much
+of a player, though, so don't expect a lot."
+
+"Guess you're good enough to handle me," laughed the other. "I like it
+better than I can play it. How about to-morrow afternoon?"
+
+"Suits me," answered George. "Three-thirty?"
+
+"Fine! I'm going to get Dad to build a court in the yard here, if I can.
+There's lots of room, but there's a tumble-down old grape-arbor right in
+the middle."
+
+"Yes, there's surely room enough," agreed Lee. "We used to come over
+here last fall and get pears--there's a dandy seckel tree back there.
+I'd say there was room for two or three courts if some of the trees were
+cut down."
+
+"What could he do with three of them?" asked Laurie.
+
+"I suppose we'd have to get the owner's permission to even take that
+rickety old arbor down," Starling said.
+
+"I thought the owner was dead," Lee observed.
+
+George chuckled. "If he was dead he wouldn't be the owner, you simple!
+Old Coventry died three or four years ago, but somebody owns the place,
+of course. If what they tell of the old chap is true, it must have
+broken his heart to know he couldn't take the place with him! Maybe he
+took his money with him, though. Anyway, the story goes that he had
+slathers of it, and they could only find a couple of thousands when he
+died."
+
+"What was he, a miser?" asked Starling.
+
+"Yes, one of the sort you read about in the stories. Lived here all
+alone for years and years with only a negro servant. They say you could
+never see a light in the place at night, and he never went off the front
+porch more than a couple of times a year. Then a carriage came for him
+and he got in and went down to the boat. He didn't use the train because
+it cost too much. Of course, when he died, folks expected to find that
+he had left a mint of money; but all any one could discover was about
+two thousand dollars in one of the banks here--that, and this property.
+The heirs, whoever they were, pretty near tore the insides out of the
+house, they say, looking for coin, but they didn't get any thing."
+
+"And at night the old codger's ghost walks around," added Lee; "and if
+you follow him, he'll take you to the place the money's hidden."
+
+"Honest?" exclaimed Starling, joyfully. "Gosh, that's great! I always
+wanted to live in a house with a ghost."
+
+"I'm sorry, then," said George, "for I just made that part up."
+
+"_You_ did?" Lee looked incredulous. "Where do you come in? I've heard
+that ever since I came here."
+
+"No, sir; you may have heard the rest of the story, but not the part
+about the ghost. I wrote the yarn up in my junior year for an English
+comp., and tacked on the ghost feature as a sort of added climax. Got
+good marks, too, and the Orstead paper published the thing. I'll show it
+to you, if you like."
+
+Lee looked unconvinced still, and Starling disappointed. "Well, it's a
+good story, anyway, and makes the place more interesting. Some day I'll
+have a look myself for the hidden millions."
+
+"Guess the old chap never had that much," said George. "Thirty or forty
+thousand is about what he was supposed to have salted away."
+
+"Scarcely worth bothering about," observed Laurie, with a yawn.
+
+"But look here, what became of the servant?" asked Starling. "Maybe he
+got the dough and made off with it."
+
+"Lots of folks thought that," replied George; "but the theory didn't pan
+out for a cent. The negro stuck around here for quite a while and then
+ambled off somewhere. He claimed that old Coventry died owing him a
+month's wages, and tried to get some one to pay him, but I guess he
+never got any of it, if it was really owing."
+
+"Where did he go to?" asked Starling.
+
+"I don't know. New York City, I think."
+
+"I'll bet he either had the money or knew where it was," declared
+Starling, with conviction. "Don't you see, fellows, he did just what any
+one would do in his case? He stuck around so he wouldn't be suspected.
+If he'd gone right off, folks would have said he was trying to avoid
+being asked about the money. And then he faked up the yarn about the old
+gentleman owing him wages. A first-class detective would have got trace
+of the coin, I'll wager!"
+
+"You've been reading _Sherlock Holmes_," laughed Lee. "Why don't you
+follow up your clue, find the negro, and restore the lost wealth to the
+starving heirs?"
+
+"Huh! If he did get the money, he's where even _Sherlock Holmes_
+wouldn't find him by this time. Some one should have followed the fellow
+and kept watch on him right then. How old was he, Watson?"
+
+"About fifty, I guess. They say he had white whiskers, anyway. Oh, he
+didn't know any more than he said he did. He was all right. He had been
+with old Coventry for years and years, one of those old-time family
+servants, you know, honest and faithful. Why, he went on something
+fierce when the old chap died!"
+
+"Say, how much of this guff is real and how much of it is English
+composition?" asked Lee, suspiciously. "How do you know the negro took
+on when the old codger died? You weren't here."
+
+"Maybe I heard it," replied George, grinning.
+
+"Yes, and maybe you just made it up, like the stuff about the ghost,"
+Lee retorted sarcastically. "I've heard the yarn two or three times, but
+I never heard that the negro had white whiskers or that he went into
+mourning!"
+
+"It's a fact, though," declared the other, warmly. "I prepared mighty
+well on that comp.; talked with half a dozen persons who knew the story.
+Got most of the stuff from the Widow Deane, though. Old Coventry had
+been dead only about two years then and folks were still talking about
+him. The Widow doesn't think the old chap had nearly as much money as he
+was supposed to have."
+
+"She has the little store around on the back street?" asked Starling.
+
+"Yes. She took that as her share."
+
+"Her share of what?" demanded Lee.
+
+"Why, of the estate. Old Coventry owned the whole half-block right
+through from Walnut Street to Pine. She rented that house from him until
+he died; paid a good stiff price, too; and then, when the estate was
+finally settled, she took it as her share, although she had to pay the
+other heirs something because they claimed that it was worth more than
+she had a right to."
+
+"Look here," said Lee, "do you mean that the Widow Deane was one of old
+Coventry's heirs?"
+
+"Of course! Didn't you know it? She was a half-sister. She lived over in
+New Jersey, she told me, until her husband died. Then she wrote to old
+Coventry, asking him to help her because she didn't have much money, and
+he invited her to come here. She thought he meant to give her a home
+with him; but when she got here, the best he would do was rent her that
+little house around on Pine Street and stock it up for her as a store.
+Then he built a fence between the two places. It used to be open right
+through."
+
+"Gee, you certainly know a lot of ancient history!" marveled Lee.
+
+"I believe in being thorough," laughed George. "When I tackle a subject
+I get a fall out of it."
+
+"So when I trail the murderer--I mean the thief," reflected Starling,
+"I'll be doing the old lady back there a good turn, won't I?"
+
+"Surest thing you know!" agreed George.
+
+"And she needs the money, I guess. I don't believe she makes a fortune
+out of that emporium. And that daughter of hers is a nice kid, too."
+
+"How many other heirs are there to share in the money when Starling
+finds it?" asked Laurie.
+
+"I don't know. Quite a bunch, I believe. The old chap wasn't married,
+and the heirs are nephews and nieces and things like that. The Widow's
+the only one living around here, though."
+
+"Well, when I do find it," laughed Starling, "I'll keep it quiet and
+hand it all over to the Widow."
+
+"He wants to make a hit with Polly," said Lee. "He's a fox."
+
+"I've never seen her," Starling denied.
+
+"Well, she's a mighty pretty girl," George avowed. "If you don't believe
+me, ask Nod."
+
+Laurie looked intensely innocent and very surprised. "Why me?" he asked
+blandly.
+
+George shook his head, grinning. "You can't get away with it, son! Think
+I didn't see you making love to the old lady this afternoon?"
+
+"Well," Laurie laughed, "I thought it was Polly you spoke of."
+
+"Sure, but she was busy waiting on a bunch of juniors and so you made up
+to the Widow. We saw you smirking and talking sweet to her, didn't we,
+Lee? Butter wouldn't have melted in the dear lamb's mouth. And I thought
+the old lady seemed rather taken with him, too; didn't you, Lee?"
+
+"Rather! It was positively sickening! Talk about foxes--"
+
+"Oh, dry up and blow away!" muttered Laurie. "Say, the rain's stopped
+now--pretty nearly."
+
+"Wants to get away from the embarrassing subject," George confided to
+Starling. "Well, I never desert a pal, Nod. Come on, we'll trot along.
+Much obliged for taking us in, Starling. Hope we haven't ruined your
+rug. Half-past three to-morrow, if the courts are dry. I'll meet you in
+School Hall."
+
+"Glad to have you drop around at my room some time," said Lee. "I'm in
+West; Number 7."
+
+"Same here," added Laurie; "16 East Hall. Thanks, Starling."
+
+"You're welcome. Come in again, fellows. When I get that tennis-court
+fixed up, we'll have some fun here. You needn't wait for that, though.
+I'd like you to meet my father and aunt. No one's at home just now. I
+say, better take a couple of umbrellas."
+
+"Not worth it, thanks," answered Lee. "After that deluge, this is just
+an April shower. So long!"
+
+Lee's statement wasn't much of an exaggeration, and the three continued
+their way to the school unhurriedly. George remarked gloomily that it
+didn't look awfully promising for tennis on the morrow, adding: "I'll
+bet that chap's a corking good player, too."
+
+"Maybe you'll learn a little about the game from him," said Laurie,
+sweetly. "How old do you say he is?"
+
+"Starling? Oh, seventeen, maybe. He's in upper middle."
+
+"Sixteen, more likely," said George. "He seems a decent sort, eh? How
+did you come to know him?"
+
+"I didn't really know him. He's in some of my classes and we've spoken a
+couple of times. Rather a--an interesting kind of chap. Wonder what his
+father does here. Funny place for him to come to. He spoke of an aunt,
+but didn't say anything about a mother. Guess she's dead. Auntie
+probably keeps house for them."
+
+As they entered the gate George chuckled and Laurie asked, "What's your
+trouble, Old-Timer!"
+
+"I was just thinking what a joke it would be if Starling took that stuff
+seriously about the hidden money and began to hack away the woodwork and
+dig up the cellar floor!"
+
+"Why, wasn't it true?"
+
+"Sure! At least, as true as anything is that folks tell. You know, Nod,
+after being repeated a couple of hundred times a story sort of grows."
+
+Lee grunted. "After some smart Aleck has written it up as an English
+comp. its own mother wouldn't know it! The real joke would be for
+Starling to wreck the woodwork and find the money!"
+
+"No, that wouldn't be a joke," said George, "that would be a movie! Come
+on! It's starting again! Last man in East buys the sodas! Come on, Lee!"
+
+Lee and Laurie ran a dead heat, and all the way to George's room, on the
+second floor, each sought to shift to the other the responsibility of
+providing the soda-water for the trio. In the end, George appointed
+himself referee and halved the responsibility between them.
+
+When, twenty minutes later, Laurie climbed onward to Number 16, he found
+a very disgruntled Ned curled up in the window-seat, which was now
+plentifully supplied with cushions. "Where've you been all the
+afternoon?" he demanded aggrievedly.
+
+"Many places," replied Laurie, cheerfully. "Why the grouch?"
+
+"You'd have a grouch, I reckon, if you'd messed around with a soggy
+football for almost two hours in a cloud-burst!"
+
+"Did you--er--get wet?"
+
+"Oh, no, I didn't get wet! I carried an umbrella all the time, you silly
+toad! Or maybe you think they roofed the gridiron over for us?"
+
+"Well, I got sort of water-logged myself, and don't you let any one tell
+you any different! Wait till I return this rain-coat and I'll tell you
+about it."
+
+"I've got troubles enough of my own," grumbled Ned, as Laurie crossed
+the corridor.
+
+Kewpie wasn't in when the borrowed garment was returned, but Hop
+Kendrick was, and Hop said it was quite all right, that Ned was welcome
+to anything of Kewpie's at any time, and please just stick it in the
+closet or somewhere. And Laurie thanked him gratefully and placed the
+rain-coat, which wasn't very wet now, where he had found it. And the
+incident would have ended then and there if it hadn't started in to rain
+cats and dogs again after supper and if Kewpie hadn't taken it into his
+head to pay a visit to a fellow in West Hall. Which is introductory to
+the fact that at eight o'clock that evening, while Ned and Laurie were
+conscientiously absorbed in preparing to-morrow's Latin, a large and
+irate youth appeared at the door of Number 16 with murder in his eyes
+and what appeared to be gore on his hands!
+
+"That's a swell way to return a fellow's coat!" he accused.
+
+He brandished one gory hand dramatically, and with the other exhumed
+from a pocket of the garment a moist and shapeless mass of brown paper
+and chocolate creams. "Look at this!" he exhorted. "It--it's all over
+me! The pocket's a regular glue-pot! Ugh!"
+
+Laurie looked and his shoulders heaved.
+
+"Oh, Kewpie!" he gurgled, contrition--or something--quite overmastering
+him. "I'm s-s-so s-s-sorry!"
+
+Kewpie regarded him scathingly a moment, while syrupy globules detached
+themselves from the exhibit and ran along his wrist. Finally he
+exploded: "Sorry! Yes, you are!"
+
+Whereupon the door closed behind him with an indignant crash, and
+Laurie, unable longer to contain his sorrow, dropped his head on his
+books and gave way to it unrestrainedly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX--LAURIE HEARS NEWS
+
+
+October arrived with the first touch of cooler weather, and the football
+candidates, who had panted and perspired under summer conditions for a
+fortnight, took heart. Among these was Ned. Laurie, who at first had had
+to alternate sympathy and severity in order to keep his brother's
+courage to the sticking-point, now found that his encouragement was no
+longer needed. Ned was quite as much in earnest as any fellow who wore
+canvas. Probably he was not destined ever to become a mighty player, for
+he seemed to lack that quality which coaches, unable to describe, call
+football instinct. But he had made progress--surprising progress when it
+is considered that he had known virtually nothing of the game two weeks
+before.
+
+Laurie, whose afternoons were still absorbed by baseball, viewed Ned's
+efforts as something of a joke, much to the latter's chagrin, and
+continued to do so until a chance conversation with Thurman Kendrick
+opened his eyes. Hop had come across one forenoon to borrow some notes
+and had tarried a moment to talk. In those days, when Hop talked he
+talked of just one subject, and that subject was football, and he
+introduced it to-day.
+
+"We've got to do better to-morrow than we did last week," he said
+earnestly, "or we'll get licked hard. Cole's was fairly easy, but
+Highland is a tough customer. Our trouble so far has been slowness, and
+Highland's as fast as they make them. Somehow, Mulford doesn't seem able
+to get any pep into our bunch. The line isn't so bad, but the back
+field's like cold glue."
+
+"That's up to the quarter, isn't it?" asked Laurie, anxious to prove
+himself not absolutely ignorant of the subject.
+
+"Yes, partly; but it's up to the coach first. If the backs aren't used
+to working fast, the quarter can't make them. Frank Brattle's a good
+quarter, Nod. I sort of wish he wasn't so good!"
+
+"Meaning you'd have a better chance of swiping his job?" smiled Laurie.
+
+"Oh, I'll never do that; but if he wasn't so good I'd get in more often.
+The best I can hope for this year is to get in for maybe a full period
+in the Farview game. Anyway, I'll get my letter, and maybe next year
+I'll land in the position. Frank's a senior, you know."
+
+"Is he? I haven't seen much practice so far. Baseball keeps me pretty
+busy."
+
+"How are you getting on?"
+
+"Slow, I'm afraid. Anyway, you could easily tell Babe Ruth and me
+apart!"
+
+"I guess you're doing better than you let on," said Hop. "If you're as
+good at baseball as your brother is at football, you'll do."
+
+"I guess I am," laughed Laurie; "just about!"
+
+"Well, Nid is surely coming fast," replied Hop, gravely. "He's been
+doing some nice work the last few days."
+
+Laurie stared. "Say, what are you doing, Hop? Stringing me?" he
+demanded.
+
+"Stringing you?" Hop looked puzzled. "Why, no. How do you mean?"
+
+"About Ned. Do you mean that he's really playing football?"
+
+"Why, of course I do. Didn't you know it?"
+
+Laurie shook his head. "He's been telling me a lot of stuff, but I
+thought he was just talking, the way I've been, to sort of keep his
+courage up."
+
+"Nonsense! Nid's doing mighty well. I don't know how much experience
+he's had; some ways he acts sort of green; but he's got Mason worried, I
+guess. If he had another fifteen pounds he'd make the team sure. As it
+is, I wouldn't be surprised to see him play a whole lot this fall. You
+see, he's a pretty good punter, Nod, and yesterday he blossomed out as a
+drop-kicker, too. Landed the ball over from about the thirty yards and
+from a hard angle. Mason doesn't do any kicking, and it's no bad thing
+to have a fellow in the back field who can help Pope out in a pinch.
+It's his kicking ability that'll get him on if anything does."
+
+"I see," said Laurie, thoughtfully. "Well, I'm mighty glad. To tell the
+truth, Hop, Ned hasn't had an awful lot of experience. He's had to bluff
+a good deal."
+
+"I suspected something of the sort from seeing him work the first week
+or so. And then Kewpie said something that sort of lined up with the
+idea. Well, he's working hard and he's making good. Much obliged for
+these, Nod. I'll fetch them back in ten minutes."
+
+When Kendrick had taken his departure Laurie stared thoughtfully for a
+minute into space. Finally he shook his head and smiled. "Good old Ned!"
+he murmured. "I'm sorry I ragged him so. Gee, I'll have to buckle down
+to my own job or he'll leave me at the post!"
+
+After practice that afternoon, Laurie and Lee picked up George and Bob
+Starling at the tennis-courts, and, after changing into "cits," went
+around to the doctor's porch and joined a dozen other lads who were
+engaged in drinking Miss Tabitha's weak tea and eating her
+soul-satisfying layer-cake. After a half-hour of batting and fielding
+practice and a five-inning game between the first team and the scrubs,
+Laurie was in a most receptive mood as far as refreshments were
+concerned. Miss Tabitha made an ideal hostess, for she left conversation
+to the guests and occupied herself in seeing that cups and plates were
+kept filled. No one had yet discovered the number of helpings of cake
+that constituted Miss Tabitha's limit of hospitality, and there was a
+story of a junior so depressed by homesickness that he had
+absent-mindedly consumed six wedges of it and was being urged to a
+seventh when some inner voice uttered a saving warning. In spite of very
+healthy appetites, none of the quartette sought to compete with that
+record, but Laurie and George did allow themselves to be persuaded to
+third helpings, declining most politely until they feared to decline any
+more. Before they had finished, the doctor joined the group and made
+himself very agreeable, telling several funny stories that set every one
+laughing and caused a small junior--it was the cherub-faced youth who
+sat at Laurie's table in the dining-hall and whose career thus far had
+proved anything but that of a cherub--to swallow a mouthful of mocha
+cake the wrong way, with disastrous results. During the ensuing
+confusion the quartette took their departure. At the gate Bob Starling
+said:
+
+"By the way, fellows, I spoke to Dad about that tennis-court, and he's
+written to the agent for permission. He says there won't be any trouble;
+and if there is, he'll agree to put the garden back the way we found it
+and erect a new arbor."
+
+"What will it be?" asked George. "Sod or gravel?"
+
+"Oh, gravel. You couldn't get a sod court in shape under a year, and I
+want to use it this fall. I'm going to look around to-morrow for some
+one to do the job. Know who does that sort of work here--Lee?"
+
+"No, but I suppose you get a contractor; one of those fellows who build
+roads and stone walls and things."
+
+"I'd ask at the court-house," said Laurie.
+
+"At the court--oh, that's a punk one!" jeered Bob. "See you later,
+fellows!"
+
+The game with Highland Academy was played across the river at Lookout,
+and most of the fellows went. In spite of Hop Kendrick's pessimistic
+prophecy, Hillman's took command of the situation in the first quarter
+and held it undisturbed to the final whistle. The contest was, if not
+extremely fast, well played by both teams, and the hosts refused to
+acknowledge defeat until the end. Captain Stevenson, at left tackle, was
+the bright, particular star of the day, with the redoubtable Pope a good
+second.
+
+It was Joe Stevenson's capture of a fumbled ball in the first five
+minutes of play and his amazing run through the enemy ranks that
+produced the initial score. Pope kicked an easy goal after Slavin, right
+half, had plunged through for a touch-down. Later in the game, Pope had
+added three more points by a place-kick from the forty-two yards.
+Highland twice reached the Blue's ten-yard line, the first time losing
+the ball on downs, and the next attempting a forward pass that went
+astray. Her one opportunity to score by a kick was wrecked by no other
+than Kewpie, who, having substituted Holmes at the beginning of the
+second half, somehow shot his hundred and seventy pounds through the
+defense and met the pigskin with his nose. Kewpie presented a
+disreputable appearance for several days, but was given due honor.
+Hillman's returned across the Hudson in the twilight of early October
+with exultant cheers and songs.
+
+Ned watched that game from the substitutes' bench, just as he had
+watched the two preceding contests, but a newly awakened _esprit de
+corps_ forbade complaining. When Laurie sympathetically observed that he
+thought it was time Mulford gave Ned a chance in a real game, Ned
+responded with dignity, almost with severity, that he guessed the coach
+knew his business.
+
+The first of the month--or, to be exact, the fourth--brought the twins
+their monthly allowances, and one of the first things Laurie did was to
+go to the little blue shop on Pine Street and pay his bill, which had
+reached its prescribed limit several days before. Ned went, too,
+although he didn't display much enthusiasm over the mission. Ned held
+that, having created a bill, it was all wrong deliberately to destroy
+it. To his mind, a bill was something to cherish and preserve. Laurie,
+however, pointed out that, since one was prohibited from further
+transactions at the Widow's, even on a cash basis, as long as one owed
+money there, it would be wise to cancel the debts. Ned recognized the
+wisdom of the statement and reluctantly parted with ninety-seven cents.
+
+Since it was only a little after two o'clock, the shop was empty when
+the twins entered, and Polly and her mother were just finishing their
+lunch in the back room. It was Polly who answered the tinkle of the bell
+and who, after some frowning and turning of pages in the account-book,
+canceled the indebtedness.
+
+"Now," said Ned, "I guess I'll have a cream-cake. Want one, Laurie?"
+
+Laurie did, in spite of the fact that it was less than an hour since
+dinner. Mrs. Deane appeared at the door, observed the proceeding, and
+smiled.
+
+"I'm real glad to see you're still alive," she said to Ned. "I guess he
+must take very good care of you."
+
+"Yes'm, I do," Laurie assured her gravely.
+
+Ned laughed scornfully, or as scornfully as it was possible to laugh
+with his mouth full. "You shouldn't believe everything he tells you,
+Mrs. Deane. I have to look after him like a baby. Why, he wouldn't get
+down in time for breakfast if I didn't put most of his clothes on."
+
+"That's no joke, either," retorted Laurie, "about you putting my clothes
+on. You're wearing one of my collars and my best socks right now,
+and--yes, sir, that's my blue tie!"
+
+"Wait a bit, partner! Where'd you get that shirt you're wearing?"
+
+"That's different," answered Laurie, with dignity. "Mine are all in the
+wash. Besides, it's an old one and you never wear it."
+
+"I never get a chance to wear it!"
+
+"It must be very convenient for you," said Mrs. Deane, smilingly, "to be
+able to wear each other's things. Polly, I guess there won't be any one
+else in for a while; maybe they'd like to see your garden."
+
+Being assured that they would, Polly led the way through the back room,
+a pleasant, sunny apartment evidently combining the duties of kitchen
+and dining-room, and out to a little back porch shaded by
+morning-glories and nasturtiums that fairly ran riot over the green
+lattice. There was a braided rug on the floor and a small rocker and a
+tiny table on which were books and a magazine or two. The books were
+evidently Polly's school books, for they were held together by a strap.
+
+The twins liked that garden. It wasn't very large, for when the peculiar
+Mr. Coventry had divided the estate he had placed the high board fence
+very close to the little frame dwelling; but perhaps its very smallness
+made it seem more attractive. Narrow beds encompassed it on three sides,
+and a gravel walk followed the beds. In the tiny square inside, a small
+rustic arbor, covered with climbing rose-vines, held a seat that, as was
+presently proved, accommodated three very comfortably.
+
+But before they were allowed to sit down the boys had to be shown many
+things: the hollyhocks against the back fence, the flowering almond that
+had been brought all the way from the old home in New Jersey,--and had
+never quite made up its mind whether to die of homesickness or go on
+living,--the bed of lilies-of-the-valley that just _wouldn't_ keep out
+of the path and many other floral treasures. Nasturtiums and
+morning-glories and scarlet sage and crinkly-edged white and lavender
+petunias were still blossoming gaily, and there was even a cluster of
+white roses on the arbor, for, so far, no frost had come. The twins
+admired properly and Polly was all smiles, until suddenly she said,
+"O-oh!" and faced them reproachfully.
+
+"You've just let me go on and be perfectly ridiculous!" she charged. "I
+don't think it's a bit nice of you!"
+
+"Why, what--how do you mean?" stammered Ned.
+
+"You have the most wonderful flowers in the world in California, and you
+know it!" she replied severely; "and you've let me show you these poor
+little things as if--as if they were anything at all in comparison! I
+forgot you came from California."
+
+"Maybe we didn't tell you," offered Laurie. "Anyway, your flowers--"
+
+"In California they have hedges of geraniums and roses climb right over
+the houses, and orange-trees and palms and everything," interrupted
+Polly, breathlessly. "Why, this garden must seem perfectly--perfectly
+_awful_ to you!"
+
+"Don't you believe it!" denied Ned. "Flowers and things do grow bigger,
+I suppose, out our way; but they aren't a bit prettier, are they,
+Laurie?"
+
+"Not so pretty," answered the other, earnestly. "Besides, _I_ never saw
+a geranium hedge in my life. Maybe they have them in some places, like
+Pasadena, but there isn't _one_ in Santa Lucia, honest. There isn't, is
+there, Ned?"
+
+"_I_ never saw one. And palms aren't awfully pretty. They get sort of
+scraggly-looking sometimes. Honest, Polly, I never saw a garden any
+prettier and cuter than this is. Of course, some are bigger and--and
+more magnificent--"
+
+"Who wants a magnificent garden?" demanded Laurie, scornfully. "What
+have you got in the box, Polly?"
+
+Comforted, Polly smiled again. "That's Antoinette," she said. "Come and
+see."
+
+Antoinette lived in a wooden box in the shelter of the porch, and had
+long ears and very blue eyes and a nose that twitched funnily when they
+approached. In short, Antoinette was a fluffy smoke-gray rabbit. "She
+has a dreadfully long pedigree," said Polly, as she took Antoinette out
+and snuggled her in her arms.
+
+"Has she?" murmured Laurie. "I thought it looked rather short."
+
+"A pedigree isn't a _tail_, you idiot," said Ned, scathingly. "She's
+awfully pretty, Polly. Will she bite?"
+
+"Of course not! At least, not unless you look like a cabbage-leaf."
+
+"I wouldn't take a chance," Laurie advised. "Any one who's as green as
+you are--"
+
+"She _tries_ to eat 'most everything," said Polly, "but she likes
+cabbage and lettuce and carrots best."
+
+"I wish I had a cabbage," muttered Laurie, searching his pockets; "or a
+carrot. You haven't a carrot with you, have you, Ned?"
+
+"You're the silliest boys!" laughed Polly, returning Antoinette to her
+box. "Let's go and sit down a minute." And when they were on the seat
+under the arbor and she had smoothed her skirt and tucked a pair of
+rather soiled white canvas shoes from sight, she announced, "There! Now
+you can make up a verse about something!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X--POLLY ENTERTAINS
+
+
+"Make up a--what did you say?" asked Ned.
+
+"Make up a verse," answered Polly, placidly. "As you did the other day
+when you went out. Don't you remember?"
+
+"Oh!" Laurie looked somewhat embarrassed and a trifle silly. "Why, you
+see--we only do that when--when--"
+
+"When we have inspiration," aided Ned, glibly.
+
+"Yes, that's it, inspiration! We--we have to have inspiration."
+
+"I'm sure Antoinette ought to be enough inspiration to any poet,"
+returned Polly, laughing. "You know you never saw a more beautiful
+rabbit in your life--lives, I mean."
+
+Ned looked inquiringly at Laurie. Then he said, "Well, maybe if I close
+my eyes a minute--" He suited action to word. Polly viewed him with
+eager interest; Laurie, with misgiving. Finally, after a moment of
+silent suspense, his eyelids flickered and:
+
+"O Antoinette, most lovely of thy kind!" he declaimed.
+
+"Thou eatest cabbages and watermelon rind!" finished Laurie, promptly.
+
+Polly clapped her hands, but her approval was short-lived. "But she
+doesn't eatest watermelon rind," she declared indignantly. "I'm sure it
+wouldn't be at all good for her!"
+
+Laurie grinned. "That's what we call poetic license," he explained.
+"When you make a rhyme, sometimes you've got to--to sacrifice truth
+for--in the interests of--I mean, you've got to think of the _sound_!
+'Kind' and 'carrot' wouldn't sound _right_, don't you see?"
+
+"Well, I'm sure watermelon rind doesn't sound right, either," objected
+Polly; "not for a rabbit. Rabbits have very delicate digestions."
+
+"We might change it," offered Ned. "How would this do?
+
+    "O Antoinette, more lovely than a parrot,
+    Thou dost subsist on cabbages and carrot."
+
+"That's silly," said Polly, scornfully.
+
+"Poetry usually is silly," Ned answered.
+
+Laurie, who had been gazing raptly at his shoes, broke forth exultantly.
+"I've got it!" he cried. "Listen!
+
+    "O Antoinette, most beauteous of rabbits,
+    Be mine and I will feed thee naught but cabbits!"
+
+A brief silence followed. Then Ned asked, "What are cabbits?"
+
+"Cabbits are vegetables," replied Laurie.
+
+"I never heard of them," said Polly, wrinkling her forehead.
+
+"Neither did any one else," laughed Ned. "He just made them up to rhyme
+with rabbits."
+
+"A cabbit," said Laurie, loftily, "is something between a cabbage and a
+carrot."
+
+"What does it look like?" giggled Polly.
+
+Laurie blinked. "We-ell, you've seen a--you've seen an artichoke,
+haven't you?" Polly nodded and Laurie blinked again. "And you've seen
+a--a mangel-wurzel?"
+
+"No, I don't think so."
+
+"Then I don't see how I can tell you," said Laurie, evidently relieved,
+"because a cabbit is more like a mangel-wurzel than anything else. Of
+course, it's not so deciduous, and the shape is different; it's more
+obvate than a mangel-wurzel; more--" he swept his hands vaguely in
+air--"more phenomenal."
+
+"Oh, dry up," said Ned, grinning. "How'd you like to have to put up with
+an idiot like that all your life, Polly? The worst of it is, folks
+sometimes mistake him for me!"
+
+"Yes, it's awful, but I manage to bear up under it," Laurie sighed.
+
+"How did you ever come to think of making those funny rhymes?" Polly
+asked.
+
+"Oh, we had measles once, about four years ago," said Ned. "We always
+had everything together--measles, whooping-cough, scarlet fever,
+everything. And when we were getting over it they wouldn't let us read
+and so we made up rhymes. I forget whose idea it was. I'd make up one
+line and Laurie would make up the other, or the other way round. The
+idea was to have the last word of the first line so hard that the other
+fellow couldn't rhyme to it. But I guess I only stuck Laurie once. Then
+the word was lemon."
+
+"You didn't really stick me then," Laurie denied. "I rhymed it with
+demon. You said they didn't rhyme, but I showed you a rhyming dictionary
+that said they did."
+
+"The dictionary said it was an imperfect rhyme, Laurie, and--"
+
+"Just the same, a rhyme's a rhyme. Say, Ned, remember the one we made up
+about Miss Yetter?" Ned nodded and grinned. "Miss Yetter was our nurse.
+We thought it was pretty clever, but she didn't like it.
+
+    "When feeling ill send for Miss Yetter.
+    If you don't die, she'll make you better."
+
+"She was quite insulted about it," laughed Ned, "and told Dad; and he
+tried to lecture us, but we got laughing so he couldn't. We made rhymes
+all the time for a while and nearly drove folks crazy; and finally Dad
+said if we didn't stop it he'd whale us. And I said, 'All right, sir,
+we'll try not to do it'; and Laurie, the chump, butted in with, ''Cause
+if we do, we know we'll rue it!' We nearly got the licking right then!"
+
+"You _are_ funny!" laughed Polly. "Is your mother--haven't you--"
+
+"She died when we were kids," answered Laurie. "I just remember her, but
+Ned doesn't."
+
+"You think you do. You've just heard Dad, and nurse talk about her. We
+were only four when Mother died."
+
+Laurie looked unconvinced, but didn't argue the matter. Instead he
+asked, "Your father's dead, isn't he, Polly?"
+
+"Yes, he died when I was eight. He was a dear, and I missed him just
+terribly. Mother says I look like him. He was very tall and was always
+laughing. Mother says he laughed so much he didn't have time for
+anything else. She means that he wasn't--wasn't very successful. We were
+very poor when he died. But I guess he was lots nicer than he would have
+been if he had just been--successful. I guess the most successful man in
+this town is Mr. Sparks, the banker, and no one has ever seen him laugh
+once. And Uncle Peter was successful, too, I suppose; and he was just as
+sour and ill-tempered as anything. He wasn't my real uncle, but I called
+him that because Mother said it would please him. It didn't seem to."
+
+"Was that Mr. Coventry?" asked Laurie. "The mis--I mean the man who
+lived in the big square house over there?"
+
+"Yes. And I don't mind your calling him the miser, because that is just
+what he was. He was Mother's half-brother, but he didn't act as if he
+was even a quarter-brother! He was always just as horrid as he could be.
+When Father died he wrote Mother to come here and he would provide her
+with a home. And when we came, we found he meant that Mother was to live
+here and pay him rent. She didn't have enough money to do that, and so
+Uncle Peter made the front of the house into a store and bought some
+things for her and made her sign a mortgage or something. When he died,
+we thought maybe he had left Mother a little; but there wasn't any will,
+and not much property, either--just the big house on Walnut Street and
+this place and about two thousand dollars. When the property was
+divided, Mother got the other heirs to let her have this as her portion
+of the estate, but she had to pay four hundred and fifty dollars for it.
+That took about all she had saved and more, and so we haven't been able
+to do much to the house yet."
+
+"It doesn't look as if it needed much doing to," said Ned, critically.
+
+"Oh, but it does! It needs a new coat of paint, for one thing. And some
+of the blinds are broken. And there ought to be a furnace in it. Stoves
+don't really keep it warm in winter. Some day we'll fix it up nicely,
+though. As soon as I get through high school, I'm going to work and make
+a lot of money."
+
+"Attaboy!" approved Ned. "What are you going to do, Polly?"
+
+"I'm learning stenography and typewriting, and Mr. Farmer, the
+lawyer,--he's the one who got the others to let Mother have the house
+when Uncle Peter's estate was settled,--says he will find a place for me
+in his office. He's awfully nice. Some stenographers make lots of money,
+don't they?"
+
+"I guess so," Ned agreed. "There's a woman in Dad's office who gets
+eighteen dollars a week."
+
+Polly clasped her hands delightedly. "Maybe I wouldn't get that much,
+though. I guess Mr. Farmer doesn't pay his stenographer very high wages.
+Maybe I'd get twelve dollars, though. Don't you think I might?"
+
+"Sure!" said Laurie. "Don't you let any one tell you any different.
+Didn't folks think that your Uncle Peter left more money than was found,
+Polly?"
+
+"Oh, yes; but no one really knew. The lawyers looked everywhere. If he
+did have any more, he must have hidden it away pretty well. They looked
+all through the house and dug holes in the cellar floor. It was very
+exciting. Mother thinks he lost what money he had speculating in stocks
+and things. He used to go to New York about four times a year. No one
+knew what he did there, not even Hilary; but Mother thinks he went to
+see men who deal in stocks and that they got his money away from him."
+
+"Who is Hilary?" Laurie inquired.
+
+"Hilary was a colored man that Uncle had had a long time. It seemed to
+me that if Uncle had had much money, Hilary would have known about it;
+and he didn't."
+
+"Where is he now? Hilary, I mean," added Laurie, somewhat unnecessarily.
+
+"I don't know. He went away a little while after Uncle Peter died. He
+said he was going to New York, I think."
+
+"You don't suppose he took the money with him, do you? I mean--"
+
+"Oh no!" Polly seemed quite horrified. "Hilary was just as honest as
+honest! Why, Uncle Peter died owing him almost forty dollars and Hilary
+never got a cent of it! The lawyers were too mean for anything!"
+
+"There's a fellow named Starling living there now," Laurie said. "His
+father's rented the house for three years. Bob says that he's going to
+find the money and give it to your mother."
+
+Polly laughed. "Oh, I wish that he would! But I guess if the lawyers
+couldn't find it he never will. Lawyers, they say, can find money when
+nobody else can! Is he nice?"
+
+"Bob? Yes, he's a dandy chap. You ought to know him, Polly; he's your
+next-door neighbor."
+
+"Back-door neighbor, you mean," interpolated Ned.
+
+"I think I saw him in the garden one day," said Polly. "His father is an
+engineer, Mae Ferrand says, and he's building a big bridge for the
+railway. Or maybe it's a tunnel. I forget."
+
+"Is Mae Something the girl with the molasses-candy hair you were with at
+the high school game?" Laurie asked.
+
+"Yes, but her hair isn't like molasses candy. It's perfectly lovely
+hair. It's like--like diluted sunshine!"
+
+Laurie whistled. "Gee! Did you get that, Neddie? Well, anyway, I like
+dark hair better."
+
+"Oh, I don't! I'd love to have hair like Mae's. And, what do you think,
+she likes my hair better than her own!"
+
+"Don't blame her," said Laurie. "What do you say, Ned?"
+
+"I say I've got to beat it back and get into football togs. What time is
+it?"
+
+"Look at your own watch, you lazy loafer. Well, come on. I say, Polly,
+would your mother let you go to the game with me Saturday? That is, if
+you want to, of course."
+
+"Oh, I'd love to! But--I'll ask her, anyway. And if she says I may,
+would you mind if Mae went too? We usually go together to the games."
+
+"Not a bit. I'll be around again before Saturday and see what she says."
+
+"I wouldn't be surprised if she said yes," remarked Polly. "I think she
+must like you boys. Anyway, you're the first of the Hillman's boys she
+has ever let me invite out here."
+
+"Really? Bully for her! Wait till I say farewell to Antoinette, 'most
+beauteous of rabbits!' What does she twitch her nose like that for?"
+
+"I think she's asking for some cabbits," replied Polly, gravely.
+
+"She's making faces at you, you chump," said Ned, rudely. "Come on."
+They returned through the little living-room, empty save for a big black
+cat asleep in a rocking-chair, and found Mrs. Deane serving the first of
+the afternoon trade in the shop beyond. They said good afternoon to her
+very politely, and Polly went to the door with them. Outside on the
+walk, Ned nudged Laurie, and they paused side by side and gravely
+removed their caps.
+
+"We give you thanks and say farewell, Miss Polly."
+
+"The visit's been, indeed, most jolly!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI--NED SPEAKS OUT
+
+
+There was a cut in the football squad that afternoon and more than a
+dozen candidates were retired, leaving twenty-eight players for the
+first and scrub teams. Ned survived, as, indeed, he expected to; for,
+while he knew his limitations, neither the coach nor the captain
+appeared to. Perhaps they were sometimes puzzled over flashes of
+ineptitude, or perhaps they put them down to temporary reversals of
+form; at least, Ned's talent was never seriously questioned by them. He
+had settled down as a regular half-back on the scrub eleven, although
+twice he had been called on in practice scrimmages to take Mason's place
+at left half on the first squad. He was too light to make much headway
+in bucking plays, and his inability to start quickly handicapped him
+frequently in running; but as a kicker he was dependable and had
+developed a quite remarkable accuracy at forward passing. Against a
+light opponent or a slow one he could be counted on to play a fairly
+good game, although so far he had not been allowed the opportunity. With
+him on the scrub team was Hop Kendrick at quarter, and, for a time,
+Kewpie at center. But Kewpie had trained down at last to a hundred and
+sixty-five pounds and was handling his weight and bulk with a new
+snappiness, and a few days after Ned became a part of the scrub outfit
+Kewpie was elevated to the first team, and a much disgruntled Holmes
+took his place on the second.
+
+With the defeat of Wagner School, Hillman's ended her preliminary
+season. In that contest, played at home, the Blue showed a new
+aggressiveness and much more speed; and, while she was able to score
+only one touch-down, and Pope failed miserably at goal, every one was
+well satisfied. Wagner had a strong team, and a victory over it was no
+small triumph. Hillman's line held splendidly under the battering-ram
+tactics of the adversary, and her backs were fast and shifty. On attack,
+the Blue failed to gain consistently; but in the third period, with a
+captured fumble on Wagner's thirty-three yards for encouragement, Pope
+got free for half the distance, and Slavin and Mason, alternating,
+worked the enemy's left side until the ball lay on the five-yard line.
+Then a fake attack on Wagner's right, with Pope carrying the ball
+through on the left of center, brought the only score of the day. Kewpie
+proved himself that afternoon, for he was a veritable Rock of Gibraltar
+on defense and a hundred and sixty-five pounds of steel springs on
+attack. The Blue team was far from a perfect machine yet, but it seemed
+that Mulford had found his parts and that only a generous oiling was
+needed.
+
+Laurie and George Watson escorted Polly and Mae Ferrand to the game,
+and, although aware of the covert grins and whispered witticisms of
+acquaintances, enjoyed themselves hugely. Mae proved to be a very jolly,
+wholesome sort of girl, and her knowledge of what may be termed "inside
+football" was stupendous and made both Laurie and George rather ashamed
+of their ignorance. Between the halves, Ned, arrayed in a trailing gray
+blanket, joined them and promptly became involved with Mae in a very
+technical argument that no one else could follow. From the fact that Ned
+retired with a rather dispirited expression when the teams came on
+again, Laurie surmised that the honors had gone to Mae.
+
+The following Monday evening, while the enthusiasm produced by the
+victory over Wagner School was still undiminished, a second mass-meeting
+was held in the auditorium to devise means of replenishing the football
+treasury: Three of the remaining five games were to be played away from
+Orstead, and in two cases the distance to be traveled was considerable
+and the expenses consequently large. As Joe Stevenson said, introducing
+the subject for discussion, if Hillman's charged admission to her home
+games, it would be possible to get through a season without asking for
+assistance from the student body. "But you fellows know that that isn't
+the school policy. We are allowed to sell tickets for the Farview game
+only, and, while we make about four hundred and fifty dollars as our
+share, that doesn't go very far against the season's outlay. We have to
+pay from seventy-five to a hundred and twenty-five dollars to every team
+that comes here to play us. When we go away we seldom make enough to pay
+our expenses. In the Highland game, because it cost us almost nothing
+for fares, we did. At the present moment we have a cash balance on hand
+of forty-three dollars, and our liabilities, including Mr. Mulford's
+salary for the remainder of the season, are about eight hundred dollars.
+
+"The manager estimates that we'll have to incur added expenses for about
+a hundred and twenty dollars for Farview game tickets and new supplies.
+In short, we shall have to pay out, before the season ends, about nine
+hundred dollars. Against that we have on hand forty-three dollars, and
+in prospect something like five hundred, leaving us about three hundred
+and fifty in the hole.
+
+"There has been talk of cutting out the Lansing and Whittier games, but
+that wouldn't make enough difference. Besides, it would give us a black
+eye to cancel games as late as this. We might save perhaps seventy
+dollars if we did, but it would cost us ten times that in public
+estimation. As far as I can see, fellows, if we're going to have a
+football team, we've got to pay for it. We've asked permission to charge
+admission, even a nominal one, to all games, but the faculty is against
+it. And we have asked to have a regular assessment made against each
+student. To many of us that would seem the fairer and most satisfactory
+way of meeting the emergency. But the faculty doesn't like that any
+better than the other proposition. So I guess it's up to us, each and
+every one of us, to dig down and produce the coin.
+
+"We need three hundred and fifty dollars at least. That means that every
+fellow in school must pony up four dollars, or, rather, that the average
+must be four dollars each. Some of you can't give so much, probably, and
+a few can give more. I'd like to hear from you, please. Don't be afraid
+to say what you think. We want to get together on this matter and thrash
+it out, if it takes until ten o'clock. Any one who has any suggestion to
+offer or anything to say will be heard. Come on, somebody!"
+
+There were plenty of speakers: Dave Brewster, the baseball captain, Dan
+Whipple, senior class president, Lew Cooper, upper middle class
+president, Dave Murray, the manager of the team, Craig Jones, for the
+lower middlers, and many others, Some subscribed to the donation scheme,
+others opposed it. Cooper suggested an appeal to the school alumni.
+Brewster pointed out that the effort would cost money and that the
+result would be uncertain and, in any case, slow. An increase in the
+price of tickets to the Farview game was discussed and the idea
+abandoned. An hour passed and the meeting was getting nowhere. Some of
+the younger boys had already withdrawn. A tall, lantern-jawed youth had
+charged the football committee with extravagance, and Dave Murray had
+bitterly resented the allegation. Ned, who, with Laurie and Lee Murdock,
+was seated near the back of the hall, had shown signs of restiveness for
+some time and had been muttering to himself. Now, to the surprise of his
+companions, he jumped to his feet and demanded recognition:
+
+"Mr. Chairman!"
+
+"Mister--" Dan Whipple pointed a finger at Ned and nodded.
+
+"Turner," prompted Kewpie from a front seat.
+
+"Mr. Turner," encouraged the chairman.
+
+"I'd like to say that I never heard so much talking and saw so little
+action," began Ned, impatiently. "What's the matter with some one saying
+something useful instead of just chewing the rag?"
+
+"You tell 'em," piped a small junior, above the applause and laughter.
+
+"All right! I'll tell you fellows that you're a lot of pikers to
+hesitate to pledge three or four hundred dollars to keep your team
+going. Where I come from we had to have a new grand stand two years ago,
+and we called a meeting like this and we raised seven hundred dollars in
+thirty-five minutes in cash and pledges. There were a lot more of us,
+but half of us would have felt like Rockefellers if we'd ever found a
+whole half-dollar in our pockets! Some of us gave as high as five
+dollars, but not many. Most of us pledged two dollars; and those who
+didn't have two dollars went out and worked until they'd made it, by
+jingo! And we got our grand stand up inside of two weeks, in time for
+the big baseball game."
+
+There was real applause this time, and those in the front of the hall
+had swung around to have a look at the earnest youth who was calling
+them names.
+
+"That's one way of getting the money," continued Ned, warming up finely,
+"but there's another. Out my way--"
+
+"Say, where do you come from?" called some one.
+
+"I come from California," answered Ned, proudly. "Maybe you've heard of
+it!"
+
+"Attaboy!" shouted Kewpie. "Swing your leg, Nid!"
+
+"When we want to raise some money out there and folks are too stingy to
+give it outright, we take it away from them another way. We get up a
+fête. We give them a good time and they pay for it. Why not try it here?
+I don't know how many folks there are in this burg, but I reckon there
+are enough to part with three or four hundred dollars. Give them an
+excuse to spend their money and they'll spend it!"
+
+Ned sat down amid loud applause, and Dave Brewster was recognized,
+although half a dozen others were clamoring for speech.
+
+"Turner's said something, fellows," declared Brewster. "The idea's worth
+considering. We've never tackled the town folks for money, and there's
+no reason why they shouldn't come across. They've come to our games for
+years without paying a cent, except for the Farview game, and it
+wouldn't hurt them to give a little to a good cause. I don't know what
+sort of a fête Turner has in mind, but I should think we might get up
+something that would do the business."
+
+"Mr. Chairman," said Kewpie, "I move that a committee of three be
+appointed by the chair, to include Nid,--I mean Mr. Turner,--to consider
+the--the matter of giving a fête to raise the money."
+
+"Seconded!"
+
+"You have heard the motion," droned Whipple. "All those in favor will so
+signify by saying 'Aye.' Contrary, 'No.' Moved and carried. I will
+appoint the presidents of the senior and upper middle classes and Mr.
+Turner to the committee, three in all. Is it the sense of this meeting
+that your committee is to report to it at a subsequent meeting, or is it
+to have authority to proceed with the matter if it decides that the
+scheme is a good one?"
+
+"Full authority, Mr. Chairman!" "Let 'em go ahead with it!" "Sure!
+That's what we want. Let's have action!"
+
+"Is there any other business? Then I declare the meeting adjourned!"
+
+Whipple captured Ned on the way out. "We'd better get together right
+away on this, Turner," he said. "Can you meet Cooper and me at my room
+to-morrow at twelve?"
+
+Ned agreed, and he and Laurie and Lee went on. "What I'd like to know,"
+remarked Laurie, after a moment's silence, "is how you're going to have
+a fête in a place like this. The weather's too cold for it."
+
+"Maybe it will be warmer," answered Ned, cheerfully. "Besides, we don't
+have to have it outdoors."
+
+"It wouldn't be a fête if you didn't," sniffed the other.
+
+"Well, what's the difference? Call it anything you like. The big thing
+is to get the money."
+
+"You had your cheek with you to talk the way you did," chuckled Laurie.
+
+"He talked sense, though," asserted Lee, warmly.
+
+"Of course. The Turners always do." Laurie steered Ned toward the
+entrance of East Hall. "Well, good night, Lee. See you at the fête!"
+
+Upstairs, Ned tossed his cap to the bed, plumped himself into a chair at
+the table, and drew paper and pencil to him. "Now," he said, "let's
+figure this out. I've got to talk turkey to those fellows to-morrow.
+What's your idea, partner?"
+
+"Hey, where do you get that stuff?" demanded Laurie. "Why drag me into
+it? It's not my fête. I don't own it."
+
+"Shut up and sit down there before I punch your head. You've got to help
+with this. The honor of the Turners is at stake!"
+
+So Laurie subsided and for more than an hour he and Ned racked their
+brains and gradually the plan took shape.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII--THE COMMITTEE ON ARRANGEMENTS
+
+
+"It's like this," explained Ned. He and Laurie and Polly and Mae Ferrand
+were in the little garden behind the shop. The girls were on the bench
+and the boys were seated on the turf before the arbor, their knees
+encircled with their arms. A few yards away Antoinette eyed them gravely
+and twitched her nose. On the porch step, Towser, the big black cat,
+blinked benignly, sometimes shifting his gaze to the branches of the
+maple in the next yard, where an impudent black-and-white woodpecker was
+seeking a late luncheon.
+
+"There are two sub-committees," continued Ned, earnestly. "Whipple and
+Cooper are the Committee on Finance and Publicity, and Laurie and I are
+the Committee on Arrangements. I told them I had to have help and so
+they took Laurie in."
+
+"No thanks to you," grumbled Laurie, who was, however, secretly much
+pleased.
+
+"It's going to be next Saturday afternoon and evening, and this is
+Tuesday, and so there isn't much time. We were afraid to make it any
+later because the weather might get too cold. Besides, the team needs
+the money right off. I looked in an almanac and it said that next
+Saturday would be fair and warm, so that's all right."
+
+"But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" asked Polly. "I
+know ours does. When we had our high-school picnic, the almanac said
+'showers' and it was a perfectly gorgeous day. I carried my mackintosh
+around all day and it was a perfect nuisance. Don't you remember, Mae?"
+
+"Well, you've got to believe in something," declared Ned. "Anyway, we're
+going to have it at Bob Starling's, and if it's too cold outdoors, we'll
+move inside."
+
+"You mean at Uncle Peter's?" exclaimed Polly.
+
+"Yes. We thought of having it at school first, but Mr. Hillman didn't
+like it much; and besides, the fellows would be inside without having to
+pay to get there! You see, it's going to cost every one a quarter just
+to get in."
+
+"And how much to get out?" asked Mae, innocently.
+
+Ned grinned. "As much as we can get away from them. There'll be twelve
+booths to sell things in--"
+
+"What sort of things?" Polly inquired.
+
+"All sorts. Eats and drinks and everything. We're getting the
+storekeepers to donate things. So far they've just given us things that
+they haven't been able to sell, a pile of junk; but we're going to stop
+that. Biddle, the hardware man, gave us a dozen cheap pocket-knives, but
+he's got to come across again. We've been to only eight of them so far,
+but we haven't done so worse. Guess we've got enough truck for one booth
+already. And then there'll be one of them for a rummage sale. We're
+going to get each of the fellows to give us something for that, and I'll
+bet we'll have a fine lot of truck. Each booth will represent a college
+and be decorated in the proper colors: Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and so
+on. And--and now it's your turn, Laurie."
+
+"Yes, I notice that I always have to do the dirty work," said the other.
+He hugged his knees tighter, rolled over on his back for inspiration,
+and, when he again faced his audience on the bench, smiled his nicest.
+"Here's where you girls come in," he announced. "We want you two to take
+two of the booths and get a girl for each of the others. Want to?"
+
+"Oh, it would be darling!" cried Polly.
+
+"I'd love to!" said Mae.
+
+"Only--"
+
+"Only--"
+
+"Only what!" asked Ned, as the girls viewed each other doubtfully.
+
+"I'm not sure Mother would let me," sighed Polly. "Do you think she
+would, Mae?"
+
+"I don't believe so. And I don't believe Mama would let me. She--she's
+awfully particular that way."
+
+"Gee!" said Ned, in disappointed tones, "I don't see why not! It isn't
+as if--"
+
+"Of course it isn't," agreed Laurie. "Besides, your mothers would be
+there too!"
+
+"Would they?" asked Mae, uncertainly.
+
+"Of course! Every one's coming! What harm would there be in it? You can
+do things for--for charity that you can't do any other time! All you'd
+have to do would be to just stand behind the booth and sell things. It
+won't be hard. Everything will have the price marked on it and--"
+
+"You won't need to go by the prices always, though," interpolated Ned.
+"I mean, if you can get more than the thing is marked, you'd better do
+it! And then there's the--the costumes, Laurie."
+
+"Oh, yes, I forgot. We'd like each girl to sort of wear something that
+would sort of match the college she represented--sort of," he explained
+apologetically. "If you had the Yale booth, you could wear a dark-blue
+waist, and so on. Do you think that would be possible?"
+
+Polly giggled. "We might ask Stella Hatch to take the Harvard booth,
+Mae. With her hair, she wouldn't have to dress much!"
+
+"And you and Polly could take your first pick," observed Laurie,
+craftily. "You'd look swell as--as Dartmouth, Mae!"
+
+"In _green_! My gracious, Ned! No, thank you! But Polly ought to be
+Yale. She looks lovely in blue. I think I'd like to be Cornell. My
+brother Harry's in Cornell."
+
+"All right," agreed Ned. "I wish you'd ask your mothers soon, will you?
+Do try, because we've just got to get girls for the booths. You'd have
+lots of fun, too. The Banjo and Mandolin Club is going to play for
+dancing for an hour at five and nine, and there'll be an entertainment,
+too."
+
+"What sort?" asked Polly.
+
+"We don't know yet. Some of the gymnastic team will do stunts, I think,
+for one thing, and there'll be singing and maybe Laurie will do some
+rope-swinging--"
+
+"I told you a dozen times I wouldn't! Besides, I haven't any rope."
+
+"We can find one, probably," replied his brother, untroubled. "We
+haven't settled about the entertainment yet. And there are two or three
+other things we haven't got to. Starling's going to have his garden all
+fixed up, and he's going to cover the old arbor with branches and hang
+Chinese lanterns in it and have little tables and chairs there for folks
+to sit down and eat ice-cream and cake.
+
+"And that reminds me, Polly. Do you suppose that Miss Comfort would make
+some cakes for us?"
+
+"Why, yes, Nid, but--but you'd have to _buy_ them. I don't think you
+ought to expect her to _donate_ them."
+
+"We meant to buy them, of course, Polly. And we wondered if your mother
+would make some of those dandy cream-puffs."
+
+"I'm sure she will. How many would you want?"
+
+"I don't know. You see, there's no way of telling how many will come.
+There are three thousand people in Orstead, but that doesn't mean much,
+does it? The 'Messenger' editor's agreed to put in an advertisement for
+us for nothing, and there'll be notices all around town in the windows:
+we got the man who prints the school monthly to do them for just the
+cost of the paper. So folks ought to come, shouldn't you think?"
+
+"Oh, I'm sure they will!" agreed Polly, and Mae echoed her. "But it'll
+be dreadfully hard to know how much cake and ice-cream and refreshments
+to order, won't it?"
+
+"Fierce," agreed Ned. "I suppose the best way will be to reckon on, say,
+three hundred and order that much stuff. Only, how do you tell how much
+three hundred will eat?"
+
+"Why, you can't! Besides, Nid, three hundred people would only bring in
+seventy-five dollars!"
+
+"In admissions, yes; but we've got to make them buy things when we get
+them in there. If every one spent a dollar inside--"
+
+"But lots of them won't. Do you think they will, Mae?"
+
+Mae shook her head. "No, I don't. Lots and lots will just come out of
+curiosity and won't spend a cent. I know, boys, because that's the way
+they act at the fairs here."
+
+Ned kicked at the turf gloomily. "Gee, that's fierce!" he muttered.
+
+"Well, we'd ought to get more than three hundred folks," said Laurie.
+"Remember, it's to be afternoon and evening too. I'll bet there'll be
+nearer six hundred than three."
+
+Ned brightened. "That's so. And six hundred, even if they only averaged
+fifty cents apiece, would be three hundred dollars. And I guess if we
+can make three hundred, we can dig up the other fifty! Well, we've got
+to get busy, Laurie. I got them to give me a cut from practice this
+afternoon and I'll have to make the most of my time," he explained to
+the girls.
+
+"Oh! And did they let you off, too, Nod?" asked Polly.
+
+"No, we're through with baseball," Laurie answered. "No more till
+spring. I'm just fairly broken-hearted!"
+
+"When will you know about helping us, Polly?" Ned asked.
+
+[Illustration: "But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?"
+asked Polly]
+
+"I'll ask Mother right away; and you'll ask, too, won't you, Mae? Can
+you stop in this evening? I do hope it'll be all right!"
+
+"So do we!" said Ned and Laurie, in a breath. "Rather!"
+
+And the Committee on Arrangements hurried away.
+
+That night the committee met again in Dan Whipple's room in West Hall
+and satisfactory progress was reported all along the line. Ned read a
+list of donations from the town merchants, and announced that twelve
+young ladies from the high school would be on hand, appropriately
+attired, to take charge of the booths. Lew Cooper showed proofs of the
+poster that was to be displayed in windows and tacked on posts and
+fences, and of the four-inch, double-column advertisement to appear in
+the "Messenger." Dan reported that Mr. Wells, the physical director, had
+promised to see that the best six members of the gymnastic team should
+exhibit afternoon and evening.
+
+"That means, though," he said, "that we'll have to have some kind of a
+platform. Better make a note of that, Lew."
+
+"Platforms cost money," answered Lew, dubiously. "Maybe we can
+borrow--I'll tell you what! There's one stored over in the field-house,
+one they use to set the dressing-tent on. It's in two
+pieces,--sections,--but I guess it's big enough. We'll see if we can't
+get the use of it."
+
+"Good! Better ask Mr. Wells, Say, Hal, did you see Norris?"
+
+Hal Pringle was Dan's room-mate, and, while he was usually present at
+the meetings, he was careful to keep himself in the background unless
+called on for advice. Now he looked up from his book and nodded. "Yes,
+it 'a all right. They'll play for an hour in the afternoon and an hour
+at night. I had to promise them eats, though."
+
+"Of course. Much obliged. Speaking of eats, fellows, what's been done
+about the refreshments?"
+
+"Nothing yet," answered Ned. "I wanted to talk that over. How many
+sandwiches and how much salad will we want? And how many gallons of
+ice-cream and--"
+
+"Whoa!" begged Dan. "Blessed if I know! How the dickens are we going to
+know how much food will be needed? What's the rule about it? Or isn't
+there any?"
+
+"Depends on how many will attend the show," said Lew. "Find that out--"
+
+"How're we going to find it out, you chump? How many do you suppose we
+can count on, Ned?"
+
+"Maybe six hundred," was the answer. "But if it should rain--"
+
+"There you are! If it rained, we mightn't get two hundred! I'll say
+that's a problem. We'd be in a fine fix if we found ourselves with two
+or three freezers of ice-cream on our hands and a lot of other truck.
+Look here, Tabby might know. Suppose you ask her, Ned. We've got to have
+enough and not too much."
+
+"It'll be all right about the ice-cream," said Laurie. "The man said we
+could return what we didn't open if we got it back that night so he
+could pack it over. But the other things--"
+
+"You talk to Tabby in the morning," repeated Dan. "She'll know if any
+one does. Now what else? What about the entertainment part of it, Mr.
+Chairman of the Committee on Arrangements? What have you got in mind
+besides the gymnastics?"
+
+"We thought we might find some one who could sing or dance. But we don't
+know many of the fellows."
+
+"Bully! There's Cheesman, Lew. He's a corker. And Kewpie isn't so bad.
+He sings a funny song mighty well."
+
+"He couldn't sing it in the afternoon, though, Dan: he'd be at the
+field."
+
+"That's so! still, the game ought to be finished by four. We wouldn't
+have the entertainment part until late, would we?"
+
+"About four, I thought," said Ned, "but Kewpie could come last. I'll put
+him down, anyway."
+
+"Anything else besides songs?" asked Dan.
+
+"Yes, only-" Ned dropped his voice and glanced at Pringle--"only it's
+got to be kept a secret to make good."
+
+"Oh, Hal's all right. He's a sort of ex-officio member of the committee.
+Shoot, Ned!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII--NED GETS INTO THE GAME
+
+
+Four hectic days followed. To Laurie, since Ned was held for two hours
+each afternoon at the football field, fell most of the duties of the
+Committee on Arrangements, and he was a very busy youth. He badgered
+shopkeepers into parting with goods to be sold at the booths, helped Bob
+Starling trim up the old arbor in the garden of the Coventry place, made
+frequent trips to the Or stead caterer's, engaged eight cakes from Miss
+Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from the Widow Deane, spent two
+hours Wednesday helping Lew and Hal Pringle distribute posters
+throughout the village, and attended to a hundred other matters
+between-times. Of course, Ned aided when he could, and was helpful with
+advice and unfailing in suggestions; but recitations and football
+practice didn't leave him much time, even though he conscientiously
+arose a full hour earlier every morning that week, and skimped studying
+so much that he got in trouble with three instructors in one day!
+
+Miss Tabitha had proved as helpful as Dan Whipple had predicted. She had
+shaken her head at the idea of entertaining six hundred at the fête.
+"You mustn't count on more than half that many," she said. "I dare say
+all the boys will go, and they'll make ninety. Then, if you get two
+hundred of the townsfolk, you'll be doing very nicely. Don't decide how
+much salad or how many sandwiches you want until Saturday morning. So
+much will depend on the weather. Even if you hold the affair indoors,
+lots of folks won't come if it rains. You say you've ordered eight cakes
+from Martha Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from Mrs. Deane?"
+
+"Yes'm," said Ned. "We wanted Mrs. Deane to make more, but she didn't
+think she could."
+
+"Well, that's a hundred and fourty-four cream-puffs, and--let me
+see--one of Miss Comfort's cakes will cut into sixteen pieces, and eight
+times sixteen--"
+
+"A hundred and twenty-eight, ma'am."
+
+"Well, and a hundred and twenty-eight and a hundred and forty-four--"
+
+"Two hundred and seventy-two."
+
+"You're real quick at figures, aren't you? Seems as if, though, counting
+on three hundred, you'd be a little short. I'll have Aunt Persis make
+one of her marble-cakes. That'll help out, I guess."
+
+"Yes'm; thanks awfully," answered Ned.
+
+"Who is going to serve the refreshments?"
+
+"Why--why--" Ned's face fell. "I guess we hadn't thought of that!"
+
+"Well, it makes a heap of difference, because you can make a quart of
+ice-cream serve ten people or twenty, just as you've a mind to. I
+usually count on sixteen. Same way with a loaf of cake, and same way
+with salad. It's awfully easy to waste salad when you're serving it.
+Now, if you'd like me to, Ned, I'll attend to serving everything for
+you. You just have the things set down there and I'll look after them."
+
+"Oh, Miss Hillman, if you would! Gee, that would be great! It--it'll be
+a lot of trouble, though, ma'am."
+
+"Well, I guess it won't be the first trouble I've seen," replied Miss
+Tabitha, dryly; "nor it won't be the last!"
+
+Thursday afternoon Laurie hurried over to the Coventry place as soon as
+a two-o'clock recitation was done. Bob was awaiting him at the gate, and
+conducted him around to the back of the big square house. Ned stared in
+surprise. The tangle of trees and vines and shrubbery had been trimmed
+to orderly neatness, the long, unkempt grass had been shorn to a yellow,
+but respectable, turf, and the old arbor showed new strips where Thomas,
+the Starlings' man, had been at work on the decrepit frame. Near at hand
+lay piles of cedar and hemlock branches.
+
+"Dad got a couple of the men to cut those down near the tunnel and haul
+them up here." Bob explained. "Thomas is going to help us put them up.
+He made a peachy job of the garden, didn't he?"
+
+"You bet!" responded Laurie, heartily. "I wouldn't have known the place!
+I say, Bob, this arbor's longer than I thought it was."
+
+"Forty feet, about. Why?"
+
+"I only ordered six tables and a dozen chairs from the caterer,"
+answered Laurie, dubiously. "Guess they aren't enough; but he's charging
+twenty-five cents apiece for them--"
+
+"Twenty-five cents for a table? Isn't that dirt-cheap?"
+
+"We're only renting them, you idiot!"
+
+"Oh, I see. Well, six is enough, I guess; you don't want to crowd them.
+Now let's get busy with the green stuff. I'll yell down cellar for
+Thomas. There's a ball of twine, and I've got two hammers and a lot of
+tacks on the side porch. You take your coat off and I'll--"
+
+"We'll have to have a step-ladder, Bob!"
+
+"There's a short ladder right beside you. Be right back."
+
+Laurie sat down on a wheelbarrow, after removing his coat and folding
+back the sleeves of his shirt, and looked around him. The garden was
+fairly large--larger in appearance since the clutter of shrubbery along
+the sides had been cleared away. Along the School Park edge ran a tall
+hedge of lilac bushes. At the back was the high board fence, painted
+dark brown, that separated the garden from the Widow Deane's humble
+property. On the other side was a rusty ornamental iron fence, mostly
+hidden by vines. Broad walks, in spite of Thomas's efforts rather
+overrun with weeds, surrounded the central plot of ancient turf, and
+another ran straight down the middle of the garden, connecting with the
+arbor. Wires were to be strung from the trees and across to the arbor,
+and Chinese lanterns hung thereon. Laurie, half closing his eyes, sought
+to visualize the place as it would appear on Saturday. He did want the
+affair to be a success, both financial and artistic, both on account of
+the school and--well, for the honor of the Turners! While he was musing,
+two things happened simultaneously: Bob and Thomas appeared from the
+house, and a familiar voice came to him from the opposite direction.
+
+"Nod!" called the voice. "Nod, will you please come here a moment?"
+
+Laurie's eyes sought the board fence. Over the top of it appeared the
+head and shoulders of Polly. He left the wheelbarrow and hurried through
+the arbor and down the walk beyond. Polly's face indicated distress,
+whether mental or physical Laurie couldn't determine. But Polly's first
+words explained.
+
+"I can't stay here l-long," she said. "I--I'm just hanging by my elbows.
+I cl-climbed up on a board, and it's fallen down!"
+
+"I'll get you a ladder!" cried Laurie, gallantly.
+
+"N-no, never mind. I'm going to drop in a s-second. I just want to ask
+you what Brown's color is. Nettie Blanchard is going to be Brown and--"
+
+"Why, brown, of course!"
+
+"Oh!" There was the sound of desperate scraping against the farther side
+of the fence, and Polly's countenance became fairly convulsed with the
+effort of holding herself in sight. "Oh! She said it was pur-pur--"
+
+Polly disappeared. There was a thud from the next yard.
+
+"Purple!" The word floated across to him, muffled but triumphant.
+
+"Are you hurt, Polly?" he called anxiously.
+
+"Not a bit," was the rueful response, "but I'm afraid the day-lilies
+are!" Then she laughed merrily. "Thanks, Nod! I didn't think Nettie was
+right. She loves purple, you see!"
+
+"Does she? Well, say, maybe she can be Williams. We weren't going to
+have Williams, but its color is purple, I think, and if she is going to
+be disappointed--"
+
+"She will look very well indeed in brown," came from the other side in
+judicial tones; "and if we begin making changes, half the girls will
+want to be something they aren't. Why, Pearl Fayles begged to be some
+girls' college neither Mae nor I had ever heard of, just so she could
+wear lavender and pale lemon!"
+
+"Well, all right," laughed Laurie. "She'd better stick to Brown--and
+brown! Good-by, Polly. I'll drop in after a while and find out how
+things are getting on."
+
+He turned to find Bob viewing him quizzically from the end of the arbor,
+swinging a hammer in each hand. "Of course it's all right, I dare say,"
+he announced, "but I _thought_ you came here to fix up the arbor.
+Instead of that I find you talking to girls over the fence!"
+
+"There's only one girl," replied Laurie, with dignity, "and we were
+talking business."
+
+"Oh, of course! Sorry I interrupted."
+
+"You needn't be, and you didn't. Quit grinning like a simpleton and give
+me a hammer!"
+
+"Right-o! Come on, Thomas! It's quite all right now!"
+
+An hour later their task was done, and well done, and they viewed it
+with approval. To be honest, the major part of the work had been
+performed by the faithful Thomas, although it is not to be denied that
+both Laurie and Bob toiled conscientiously. Before they were through
+approving the result from various angles, Bob's father joined them. Mr.
+Starling was an older edition of Bob--a tall, straight, lean-visaged man
+of forty-two or -three, with the complexion of one who had lived an
+outdoor life. He had a deep, pleasant voice and a quiet manner not fully
+in accord with a pair of keen eyes and a firm mouth.
+
+"I'd call that a good piece of work, boys," he said, as he joined them.
+"And right up to specifications, too. Those paper lanterns come yet,
+Bob?"
+
+"No, sir; I haven't seen them."
+
+"Lanterns, Mr. Starling?" asked Laurie. "Do you mean Chinese lanterns?
+We've ordered a lot from the caterer, sir."
+
+"Tell him you won't need them, then. I've got a hundred coming up from
+the city, Turner. They ought to be here, too. Thomas, call up the
+express company and ask about them."
+
+"That's very kind, sir," said Laurie, "but you needn't have done it.
+You--you're doing _everything_!"
+
+"Nonsense! Bob and I want to do our part, of course. Well, this
+wilderness certainly looks different, doesn't it? That reminds me, Bob;
+the agent writes me that we may 'make such improvements to the property
+as we desire.' So, as I consider the absence of that arbor an
+improvement, I guess you can pull it down any time you like. I'm going
+to have a cup of tea, Turner. Will you join me? I believe there will be
+cakes, too."
+
+Laurie found Ned in rather a low frame of mind when he got back to
+Number 16 a half-hour before supper-time. Ned was hunched over a Latin
+book and each hand held a firm grip on his hair. At Laurie's arrival he
+merely grunted.
+
+"Where does it pain you most?" asked Laurie, solicitously, subsiding
+into a chair with a weary sigh. Ned's mood was far from flippant. He
+rewarded the other with a scowl, and bent his gaze on the book again.
+"Want to hear the latest news from the front?" persisted Laurie.
+
+"No, I don't!" his brother growled. "I've had all the news I can stand.
+Smug says that if I don't get this rotten stuff by nine to-night, and
+make a perfect showing to-morrow, he will can me!"
+
+"Mr. Cornish said that?" gasped Laurie. "What do you know about that?
+Why, I thought he was a gentleman!"
+
+"He's a--a brute! I can't learn the old stuff! And I have a hunch that
+Mulford means to give me a try in the Loring game Saturday. And if I
+don't get this, Cornish will fix it so I can't play. He as good as said
+so."
+
+"Didn't you tell him you'd been busy with the fête and everything?"
+
+"Of course I did. Much he cared! Just made a rotten pun. Said I'd better
+keep my own fate in mind. Puns are fearfully low and vulgar!"
+
+"Aren't they? How much of that have you got?"
+
+"Six pages. I--I've sort of neglected it the last two days. Some fellows
+can fake through, but I don't have any luck. He's always picking on me."
+
+Laurie whistled expressively. "Six pages! Well, never say die, partner.
+We'll get down to supper early, and that'll give us two hours before
+nine."
+
+"Us?" questioned Ned, hopefully.
+
+"Sure. I'll give you a hand. As the well-known proverb so wisely
+remarks, two heads are the shortest way home."
+
+Ned grinned, and stopped tormenting his hair. "Honest? That's mighty
+decent, Laurie. I'll do as much for you some day."
+
+"Hope you won't have to. Wash your dirty face and let's beat it!"
+
+At half-past nine a more cheerful and much relieved Ned returned from
+the hall master's study. "All right," he announced to an anxious Laurie.
+"He was rather decent, too. Said he guessed that, in view of the
+manifold affairs engaging my attention just now,--you know the crazy way
+he talks,--he wouldn't demand too much from me. Reckon he means to let
+me down easy to-morrow, eh?"
+
+"Maybe, partner, and maybe not. Take my advice and, in the words of the
+Scouts, be prepared!"
+
+Friday was a hectic day for Laurie and all others concerned with the
+fête. Difficulties that had remained in ambush all the week sprang out
+and confronted them at the last moment. Half a dozen things had been
+forgotten, and every member of the committee sought to exonerate
+himself. Tempers were short and the meeting in Dan Whipple's room at
+nine o'clock was far from harmonious. All went to bed that night firmly
+convinced that the affair was doomed to be a flat failure. And, to add
+to that conviction, the night sky was overcast and an unsympathetic
+easterly wind was blowing. Ned, conscious of having imposed too many
+duties on Laurie, was grouchy and silent; and Laurie, convinced that he
+had been made a "goat" of, and that Ned was secretly blaming him for
+mistakes and omissions that were no fault of his, retired in high
+dudgeon.
+
+And yet, the morning dawned fair and warm, with an almost cloudless blue
+sky over the world, and life looked very different indeed. Ned arose
+whistling, and Laurie somehow knew that everything would be all right.
+Fortunately, they had but two recitations on Saturday, and in
+consequence there remained to them three whole hours before dinner to
+devote to the affairs of the entertainment. They were busy hours, you
+may be sure. If Ned hurried downtown once, he hurried there half a dozen
+times; while Laurie, seated beside the driver of a rickety
+express-wagon, rounded up all kinds of things, from the platform at the
+field-house to the cakes at Miss Comfort's. Dinner brought a respite;
+but as soon as it was over, Laurie was back on the job, while Ned joined
+the football-players.
+
+Of course, what the Hillman's School football team should have done that
+afternoon was to score a decisive victory over the visiting eleven. What
+it did do was to get thoroughly worsted. Loring was something of a
+surprise, with a heavier line and a faster bunch of backs than Hillman's
+had expected. And Loring knew a lot of football, and proved the fact
+early in the game. At half-past two, by which time the second period was
+half over, the result was a foregone conclusion. Loring had scored two
+touch-downs and as many goals therefrom, and the Blue had never once
+threatened the adversary's last white line. Gains through the opponent
+were infrequent and short, even Pope, who could generally be depended on
+to tear off a few yards when the worst came to the worst, failing
+dismally.
+
+In mid-field, Mason and Slavin made some stirring advances around the
+Loring wings, and there were several successful forward passes to the
+home team's credit; but, once past Loring's thirty-yard line, Hillman's
+seemed powerless. The third quarter went scoreless, and in the fourth,
+realizing doubtless that defeat was certain, Coach Mulford used his
+substitutes lavishly. Ned made his first appearance on the big team in
+that period, taking Mason's place for some eight of the fifteen minutes.
+He did neither better nor worse than the other second- and third-string
+fellows, perhaps--although, when Pope was taken out and Deering
+substituted at full-back, he did his share of the punting and performed
+very creditably. But that fourth period gave Loring an opportunity to
+add to her score, and she seized it. Even with several substitutes in
+her own line-up, she was still far better than Hillman's, and a goal
+from the field and, in the last few moments of the game, a third
+touch-down, resulted.
+
+The Blue fought desperately and gamely with her back to the wall, in an
+effort to stave off that last score; but eventually Holmes, who had
+taken Kewpie's place at center, weakened, and the Loring back piled
+through. The final score was 23 to 0, and what two hours before had been
+looked on as a victory or, at the worst, a tie, had become a cataclysm!
+Humiliated, if not disgraced, the home-team players trailed to the
+field-house with hanging heads, averting their eyes from the sight of
+Loring's triumphal march around the gridiron.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV--THE FETE
+
+
+Behold Fairyland!
+
+Well, at least an excellent imitation of what Fairyland must look like.
+Overhead, a clear, star-sprinkled sky; below, scores of gaily-hued
+lanterns shedding their soft glow over a charming scene. Through the
+side gate, please, on School Park. Twenty-five cents to the boy on duty
+there, and you are inside, with the manifold attractions awaiting you.
+On three sides of the transformed garden are the college booths, each
+decked with bunting and flags of appropriate colors, and each presided
+over by a patriotically attired young lady who will gladly, nay,
+eagerly, sell you almost anything from a cake of soap ("Donated by the
+Town Square Pharmacy, H. J. Congreve, Prop'r.") to a knitted sweater or
+a gingham house-dress ("Compliments of The New York Store, High Class
+Dry Goods"). Near at hand, Yale is represented by Miss Polly Deane,
+capped and aproned in blue, her eyes sparkling and her voice sweetly
+insistent: "Won't you buy something, please, sir? Post-cards, two for
+five! These pictures are only fifty cents, all beautifully framed and
+ready for hanging! Can I sell you something, ma'am?"
+
+Beyond, gay with orange and black, is the Princeton booth; and still
+beyond, Dartmouth and Columbia and California; and then, a blur of
+brilliant crimson through the leafage, Harvard. And so on all around the
+garden, with merry voices sounding above the chatter of the throng that
+moves here and there. Down the center of Fairyland runs a leafy tunnel
+from within which blue and red and yellow and green rays twinkle. There,
+under the hanging lanterns, little tables and chairs are dotted on the
+gravel, and half a dozen aproned youths are busy bearing, not always
+without mishap, plates of salad and rolls and dishes of ice-cream and
+cake. Close to the back of the house is a platform illumined by a row of
+electric lights, the one glaring spot in the area of soft radiance.
+
+"How's it going?" asked a heavily-built youth of a slimmer one who had
+paused at the entrance to the arbor.
+
+"Hello, Kewpie! Oh, bully, so far. We took in eighty-four dollars this
+afternoon, and we'll do at least twice as well to-night. They're still
+coming. Have you seen Whipple anywhere?"
+
+"Yes, a minute ago, down at the Pennsylvania booth. She's a mighty
+pretty girl, too, Nod. I bought a pocket-knife of her for a quarter, and
+got stung; but I don't mind. I'm going back to get another pretty soon.
+When do I have to sing again?"
+
+"You follow Wilson's clog-dance. We're switching you and Cheesman,
+Kewpie. His stuff is corking, but it's pretty high-brow, and we thought
+you'd better bring up the end and make the audience feel cheerful."
+
+"All right; but it won't feel very cheerful if those orchestra guys
+don't do better than they did this afternoon. They were four or five
+notes behind me once! Nid said you had a new stunt this
+evening--something you left out this afternoon."
+
+"Yes; we couldn't work it in daylight very well. It ought to go fine
+to-night, though."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"You wait and see. I've got to find Whipple. Say, if you see Ned, tell
+him I'll be at the platform in five minutes and want him to meet me
+there. Everybody keeps getting lost here!"
+
+On the way past the arbor, Laurie ran into George Watson, returning
+across lots balancing a couple of plates in one hand and holding a large
+slab of cake in the other, from which he nibbled as he went. "Hello!" he
+said, none too distinctly. "I've been looking for you."
+
+"Wanted to bring me refreshments, I suppose."
+
+George looked at the empty plates, laughed, and shook his head. "Not
+exactly. I've been feeding Cornell. Somebody ought to take eats to those
+girls, Nod; they're starving!"
+
+"All right; you do it."
+
+"What do you think I am? A millionaire? I bought Mae a salad and an
+ice-cream, and I'm about broke. Lend me a half, will you? Thanks. Want
+an ice-cream? I'll treat."
+
+"No, thanks. Have you seen Dan Whipple?"
+
+"Sure! He's over at the Pennsylvania booth, buying it out! Say,
+everything's going great, isn't it? Couldn't have had a finer evening,
+either, what? Well, see you later. I'm hungry!" And George continued his
+way to the house, where Miss Tabitha, surrounded by willing and hungry
+helpers, presided sternly, but most capably, over the refreshments.
+
+At eight o'clock the boy on duty at the entrance estimated the
+attendance as close to two hundred, which, added to the eighty-six paid
+admissions before supper, brought the total close to the first estimate
+of three hundred. It is safe to say that every Hillman's boy attended
+the fête either in the afternoon or evening, and that most of the
+faculty came and brought Mrs. Faculty--when there was a Mrs. Faculty.
+Doctor Hillman was spied by Laurie purchasing a particularly useless and
+unlovely article in burnt wood from the auburn-haired Miss Hatch. Every
+one seemed to be having a good time, and the only fly in the ointment of
+the committee was the likelihood that the refreshments would be
+exhausted far too soon.
+
+The Weather Man had kindly provided an evening of exceptional warmth,
+with scarcely enough breeze to sway the paper lanterns that glowed from
+end to end of the old garden, an evening so warm that ice-cream was more
+in demand than sandwiches or salad; and fortunately so, since ice-cream
+was the one article of refreshment that could be and was replenished.
+If, said Ned, folks would stick to ice-cream and go light on the other
+refreshments, they might get through. To which Laurie agreed, and Ned
+hied him to the telephone and ordered another freezer sent up.
+
+At a few minutes after eight the Banjo and Mandolin Club took possession
+of the chairs behind the platform and dashed into a military march.
+Following that, six picked members of the Gymnastic Club did some very
+clever work, and Cheesman, a tall and rather soulful-looking upper
+middler, sang two ballads very well indeed, and then, as an encore,
+quite took the joy out of life with "Suwanee River"! Little Miss
+Comfort, present through the courtesy of the Committee on Arrangements,
+sniffled quite audibly, but was heard to declare that "it was just too
+sweet for anything!" A rather embarrassed junior attempted some card
+tricks that didn't go very well, and then Wilson, garbed more or less in
+the character of an Irish gentleman returning from Donnybrook Fair, and
+swinging a shillaly, did some jig-dancing that was really clever and won
+much applause.
+
+There was a brief unofficial intermission while three anxious committee
+members made search for Kewpie Proudtree. He was presently discovered
+consuming his fourth plate of ice-cream in the seclusion of the side
+porch, and was haled away, protesting, to the platform. In spite of what
+may seem an over-indulgence in refreshment, Kewpie was in excellent
+voice and a jovial mood, and sang four rollicking songs in a manner that
+captured his audience. In fact, long after Kewpie had vanished from the
+public gaze and returned to his ice-cream, the audience still demanded
+more.
+
+Its attention was eventually captured, however, by Dan Whipple, who
+announced importantly that it gave him much pleasure to say that, at a
+great expense, the committee had secured as an added attraction the
+world-famed Signor Duodelli, who, with their kind permission, would
+exhibit for their pleasure and astoundment his miraculous act known as
+the Vanishing Man, as performed before the crowned heads of Europe, to
+the bewilderment and applause of all beholders. "Ladies and gentlemen,
+Signor Duodelli!"
+
+The Signor had a noticeable likeness to Lew Cooper, in spite of his
+gorgeous mustache and flowing robe of red and purple cheese-cloth. Yet
+it might not have been Lew, for his manner was extremely foreign and his
+gestures and the few words he used in directing the arranging of his
+"properties" were unmistakably Latin. The properties consisted of a
+kitchen chair, a threefold screen covered with black baize, and a coil
+of rope. There was also in evidence a short wand, but the Signor held
+that in his hand, waving it around most eloquently. The audience laughed
+and applauded and waited patiently until the chair had been placed
+exactly to the Signor's liking, close to the back of the platform, and
+the screen beside it. Previously several of the lights had been put out,
+and those that remained threw their glare on the front of the stage,
+leaving the back, while discernible, less in evidence.
+
+"Now," announced the Signor, narrowly escaping from falling off the
+platform as he tripped over his robe, "I aska da some one coma up and
+giva da help. Any one I aska. You, Signor, maybe, eh?" The magician
+pointed his wand at Mr. Cornish, in the front of the clustered audience;
+but the gentleman laughingly declined. The Signor seemed disappointed.
+"No-o-o? You no geta da hurt. Some one else, eh?" He looked invitingly
+around, and a small junior, urged by his companions, struggled to the
+front. Unfortunately for his ambitions to pose in the lime-light, the
+Signor's glance had moved to another quarter, and, ere the junior could
+get his attention, a volunteer appeared from the semi-obscurity of the
+kitchen porch. He was peculiarly attired, wearing a simple white garment
+having a strong resemblance to the old-fashioned night-shirt, that
+covered him completely from neck to ankles. He was bareheaded, revealing
+the fact that his locks were red-brown in hue.
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed the Signor, delightedly. "You will helpa me, _si_? Right
+thisa way, Signor. I thanka you!"
+
+"That's one of the Turner fellows," muttered a boy, while the small
+junior and his companions called "Fake!" loudly. However, the
+good-natured laughter of the audience drowned the accusation, and some
+two hundred pairs of eyes watched amusedly and expectantly while, with
+the assistance of two other volunteers, the youth in the white robe was
+tied securely to the chair.
+
+"Maka him tight," directed the Signor, enthusiastically, waving his
+wand. "Pulla da knot. Ha, thata da way! Good! Signors, I thanka you!"
+
+The two who had tied the victim to the chair retired from the platform.
+The Signor seized the screen and opened it wide and turned it around and
+closed it and turned it again.
+
+"You seea?" he demanded. "There is nothing that deceive! Now, then, I
+placea da screen so!" He folded it around the boy and the chair, leaving
+only the side away from the audience uncovered. He drew away the width
+of the platform, and, "Music, ifa you please," he requested. The
+orchestra, whose members had moved their chairs to one side, struck up a
+merry tune, and the Signor, folding his arms, bent a rapt gaze on the
+blank, impenetrable blackness of the screen. A brief moment passed. Then
+the Signor bade the music cease, took a step forward, and pointed to the
+screen.
+
+"Away!" he cried, and swung his arm in a half-circle, his body following
+with a weird flaring of his brilliant robes until, with outstretched
+finger, he faced the audience. "Ha! He come! Thisa way, Signor! Comea
+quick!"
+
+As one man the audience turned and followed the pointing finger. Through
+the deserted arbor came a boy in a white garment. He pushed his way
+through the throng and jumped to the stage. As he did so, the Signor
+whisked aside the screen. There was the chair empty, and there was the
+rope dangling from it, twisted and knotted.
+
+A moment of surprised silence gave place to hearty applause.
+Theoretically it might have been possible for the boy in the chair to
+vanish from behind the screen, reach the farther end of the garden, and
+run back into sight; but actually, as the audience realized on second
+thought, it couldn't possibly have been done in the few seconds, surely
+not more than ten, that had elapsed between the placing of the screen
+and the appearance of the boy behind them. And then, how had he got
+himself free from the rope? An audience likes to be puzzled, and this
+one surely was. The garden hummed with conjecture and discussion. There
+were some there who could have explained the seeming phenomenon, but
+they held their counsel.
+
+Meanwhile, on the platform the Signor was modestly bowing alternately to
+the audience and to his subject, the latter apparently no worse for his
+magic transposition. And the orchestra again broke into its interrupted
+melody. The applause became insistent, but Signor Duodelli, perhaps
+because his contract with the committee called for no further evidence
+of his powers, only bowed and bowed and at last disappeared into the
+obscurity of the shadows. Whereupon the Banjo and Mandolin Club moved
+into the house, and presently the strains of a one-step summoned the
+dancers to the big drawing-room.
+
+Laurie, unconsciously rubbing a wrist, smiled as he listened to the
+comments of the dissolving audience. "Well, but there's no getting
+around the fact that it was the same boy," declared a pompous little
+gentleman to his companion. "Same hair and eyes and everything! Couldn't
+be two boys as much alike, eh? Not possibly! Very clever!"
+
+Laurie chuckled as he made his way to Polly's booth. That young lady
+looked a little tired, and, by the same token, so did the Yale booth!
+Only a bare dozen framed pictures and a small number of post-cards
+remained of her stock. "Don't you think I've done awfully well?" asked
+Polly, a trifle pathetically. She seemed to need praise, and Laurie
+supplied it.
+
+"Corking, Polly," he assured her. "I guess you've sold more than any of
+the others, haven't you?"
+
+"N-no, I guess some of the others have done better, Nod; but I think
+they had more attractive articles, don't you? Anyhow, I've taken in
+twelve dollars and thirty cents since supper, and I made four dollars
+and eighty-five cents this afternoon; only I must have dropped a dime
+somewhere, for I'm ten cents short. Or perhaps someone didn't give me
+the right amount."
+
+"Why, that's seventeen dollars!" exclaimed Laurie. "I didn't think you
+had anywhere near seventeen dollars' worth of things here, Polly!"
+
+"Oh, I didn't! Not nearly! Why, if I'd sold things at the prices marked
+on them, Nod, I wouldn't have had more than half as much! But lots of
+folks _wanted_ to pay more, and I let them. Mr. Conklin, the jeweler,
+bought a picture, one of the funny landscapes with the frames that
+didn't fit at the corners, and he said it was ridiculous to sell it for
+a quarter, and he gave me a dollar for it. Then he held the picture up
+and just laughed and laughed at it! I guess he just wanted to spend his
+money, don't you? You know, Ned said we were to get as much as we could
+for things, so I usually added ten cents to the price that was marked on
+them--sometimes more, if a person looked extravagant. One lady came back
+and said she'd paid twenty-five cents for a picture and it was marked
+fifteen on the back. I said I was sorry she was dissatisfied and I'd be
+very glad to buy it back from her for twenty."
+
+Laurie laughed. "What did she say to that?" he asked.
+
+"She said if I wanted it bad enough to pay twenty cents for it she
+guessed it was worth twenty-five, and went off and didn't come back."
+Polly laughed and then sighed. "I'm awfully tired. Doesn't that music
+sound lovely? Do you dance?"
+
+Laurie shook his head. "No; but, say, if you want to go in there, I'll
+watch the booth for you."
+
+Polly hesitated. "It's funny you don't," she said. "Don't you like it?"
+
+It was Laurie's turn to hesitate. "No, not much. I never have danced.
+It--it seems sort of silly." He looked at Polly doubtfully. Although he
+wouldn't have acknowledged it, he was more than half sorry that dancing
+was not included among his accomplishments.
+
+"It isn't silly at all," asserted Polly, almost indignantly. "You ought
+to learn. Mae could teach you to one-step in no time at all!"
+
+"I guess that's about the way I'd do it," answered Laurie, sadly--"in no
+time at all! Don't you--couldn't _you_ teach a fellow?"
+
+"I don't believe so. I never tried to teach any one. Besides, Mae dances
+lots better than I do. She put the things she had left on Grace
+Boswell's booth and went inside the minute the music started. She wanted
+me to come, but I thought I shouldn't," added Polly, virtuously.
+
+"You go ahead now," urged Laurie. "I'll stay here till you come back. It
+isn't fair for you girls to miss the dancing. Besides, I guess there
+won't be much more sold now. Folks have begun to go, some of them, and
+most of the others are inside."
+
+Polly looked toward the house. Through the big wide-open windows the
+lilting music of a waltz floated out. The Banjo and Mandolin Club was
+really doing very well to-night. Polly sighed once and looked wistful.
+Then she shook her head. "Thanks, Nod," she said, "but I guess I'll stay
+here. Some one _might_ come."
+
+"What do you care? You don't own 'em! Anyway, I guess I could sell a
+post-card if I had to!"
+
+"You'd have trouble selling any of those pictures," laughed Polly.
+"Aren't they dreadful? Where did they come from?"
+
+"Pretty fierce," Laurie agreed. "They came from the Metropolitan
+Furniture Store. The man dug them out of a corner in the cellar. I guess
+he'd had them for years! Anyway, there was enough dust on them to choke
+you. He seemed awfully tickled when we agreed to take them and let him
+alone!"
+
+"I should think he might have! We girls agreed to buy things from each
+other, just to help, but the only things they bought from me were
+post-cards!" Polly laughed as though at some thought; and Laurie, who
+had elevated himself to an empty corner of the booth and was swinging
+his feet against the blue draping in front, looked inquiringly. "I was
+just thinking about the boys," explained Polly.
+
+"What about them? What boys do you mean?" Laurie asked coldly.
+
+"The high school boys. They're awfully peeved because we girls took part
+in this, and not one of them has been here, I guess."
+
+"Cheeky beggars," grumbled Laurie. "Guess we can do without them,
+though. Here comes Bob's father."
+
+Mr. Starling was bent on a most peculiar mission. Laurie and Polly
+watched him stop at the next booth and engage in conversation. Then a
+fat pocket-book was produced, a bill was tendered, and Mr. Starling
+strolled on. At the Yale booth he stopped again.
+
+"Well, Turner," he greeted, "this affair looks like a huge success,
+doesn't it? Why aren't you young folks inside there, dancing?"
+
+"I don't dance, sir," answered Laurie, somewhat to his chagrin in a most
+apologetic tone. "And Polly thinks she ought to stand by the ship. This
+is Polly Deane, Mr. Starling."
+
+Bob's father shook hands cordially across the depleted counter and
+assured its proprietor that he was very glad indeed to make her
+acquaintance. Then he added: "But you don't seem to have much left, Miss
+Polly. Now, I'm a great hand at a bargain. I dare say that if you made
+me a fair price for what there is here I'd jump at it. What do you say?"
+
+Polly apparently didn't know just what to say for a minute, and her gaze
+sought counsel of Laurie.
+
+"If you ask me," laughed the latter, "I'd say fifty cents was a big
+price for the lot!"
+
+"You're not in charge," said Mr. Starling, almost severely. "I'm sure
+the young lady has better business ability. Suppose you name a price,
+Miss Polly."
+
+"We-ell--" Polly did some mental arithmetic, and then, doubtfully: "A
+dollar and a half, sir," she said.
+
+"Done!" replied Mr. Starling. He drew forth a two-dollar bill. "There
+you are! Just leave the things where they are. I'll look after them
+later. Now you youngsters go in and dance. What's this? Change? My dear
+young lady, don't you know that change is never given at an affair of
+this kind? I really couldn't think of taking it. It--it's a criminal
+offense!" And Mr. Starling nodded and walked away.
+
+"By Jove, he's a brick!" exclaimed Laurie, warmly. "Look, he's doing the
+same thing everywhere!"
+
+"I know," answered Polly, watching. "It's just dear of him, isn't it?
+But, Nod, _what_ do you suppose he will do with these awful pictures?"
+
+"The same thing he will do with that truck he's buying now," was the
+laughing reply. "He will probably put them in the furnace!"
+
+"Well," said Polly, after a moment, "I suppose we might as well go
+inside, don't you? We can look on, anyway, and"--with a stifled
+sigh--"I'd 'most as lief look on as dance."
+
+Laurie followed, for the second time in his life wishing that the
+Terpsichorean art had been included in his education!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV--NED HAS AN IDEA
+
+
+"Three hundred and thirty-three dollars and eighty-five cents," said
+Ned, in very satisfied tones. "We took in three hundred and sixty-three
+five, but we had twenty-nine twenty to come out for expenses. Not so
+bad, what?"
+
+"But something tells me," answered Laurie, mournfully, "that if all our
+expenses were deducted we'd have less than that. You see," he explained
+to Polly, "I lost the piece of paper that I set down the money I paid
+out on, and I just had to guess what it all came to, because I'd never
+had time to add it up."
+
+"I dare say you guessed enough," replied Ned, untroubled.
+
+"I dare say I didn't, then!" was the indignant response. "If I did,
+where's all the money I had when I started? I've got a dollar and ninety
+cents left, and I had over four dollars when you roped me in on the
+thing! I'm more than two dollars shy, I tell you!"
+
+"Oh, well, it's gone for a worthy cause," laughed Ned.
+
+"Maybe," Laurie grumbled, "but I notice that none of yours has gone that
+way. You always made me pay for everything!"
+
+"Well, I think you did it beautifully," said Polly. "I never suspected
+you'd make so much!"
+
+They were in the little garden behind the shop. It was the second day
+after the fête, and the bell in the Congregational church tower had just
+struck two. There was a perceptible nip in the air to-day, and the
+flowers in the border showed blackened leaves, while the nasturtiums
+were frankly limp and lifeless. But here in the sunshine it was warm
+enough, and Laurie, spurning the bench, was seated tailor fashion on the
+yellowing turf. Polly had stated her absolute certitude that he would
+catch cold, but Laurie derided the idea.
+
+"We're awfully much obliged to you girls," said Ned. "We wouldn't have
+done nearly so well if you hadn't helped. I think the committee ought to
+give you a--a vote of thanks or something."
+
+"Oh, we all loved it!" Polly assured him earnestly. "We had heaps of
+fun. Why, I wouldn't have missed that disappearing trick for anything. I
+was positively thrilled when Laurie came running up the garden!"
+
+The boys' laughter interrupted, and Polly looked puzzled.
+
+"That wasn't Laurie," explained Ned. "That was me."
+
+"But I was sure you were the one in the chair! And if you were in the
+chair, how could you--"
+
+"I wasn't, though. That was Laurie."
+
+Polly sighed despairingly. "I'll never get so I can tell you apart," she
+said; "unless I hear you talk, that is! I don't see yet how it was done.
+Won't you please tell me?"
+
+"It was as easy as easy," replied Ned. "You see, the way I planned it
+first--"
+
+"The way _who_ planned it?" inquired Laurie.
+
+"Well, the way _we_ planned it, then."
+
+"Hold on! Whose idea was it in the first place, partner?"
+
+"Oh, don't be so fussy! Anyway, you couldn't have done it without me!"
+
+"I never said I could. But you've got a lot of cheek to talk about the
+way _you--_"
+
+Polly clapped her hands to her ears. "I'm not being told how it was
+done, and I do want to know. Go on, Ned."
+
+"Well, it was done like this. You see, Laurie was tied to the chair, and
+I was hiding out at the other end of the garden. Then Lew Cooper put the
+screen around the chair." Polly nodded. "Then I started toward the
+platform, and every one turned to look at me." Polly nodded again.
+"Well, right behind the platform was the bulkhead door into the cellar.
+When Cooper shouted to me to come on, two fellows who were on the stairs
+waiting pushed the door open, grabbed Laurie, chair and all, and whisked
+him down cellar. Then they put another chair, just like the first one,
+behind the screen, and when Cooper pulled the screen away, there it was,
+just as if Laurie had somehow untied himself and--and vanished! Of
+course, if any one had been looking at the screen instead of at me just
+then, he might have seen what was going on, although it was pretty dark
+behind there and he mightn't have. Anyway, no one was, I guess. The
+trick depended on the--the faint similarity between us. Lots of fellows
+who knew us were on to it, but the folks from the village were puzzled
+for fair!"
+
+"Indeed they were," agreed Polly. "They just couldn't understand it at
+all!"
+
+"It would have been better," mused Laurie, "if we could have taken the
+screen away and showed the empty chair before Ned came into sight; but
+there didn't seem to be any way of doing that. We had to have the people
+looking the other way, and we had to work quick. As it was, I was half
+killed, for Wainwright and Plummer were in such a hurry to get the other
+chair up there that they just dumped me on my back! And then they ran
+upstairs through the kitchen to see the end of it, and I was kicking
+around down there for five minutes!"
+
+"Well," said Ned, a few minutes later, "I'm not finding out what to do
+with this." He opened one hand and exposed some bills and two ten-cent
+pieces folded into a wad. "Your mother says she won't take it,
+Polly--that she didn't understand we were going to pay her for the
+cream-puffs. Gee, we wouldn't have thought of asking her to make them
+for nothing!"
+
+Polly nodded sympathetically. "Mother says, though, that the boys bring
+so much trade to her that it's only fair for her to help them."
+
+"That's poppy-cock!" said Laurie. "Seven dollars and twenty cents is a
+lot of money. Look here; don't you think she ought to take it, Polly?"
+
+Polly was silent a moment. Then she nodded affirmatively. "Yes, I do,"
+she said frankly. "She really needs the money, Ned. I wouldn't tell any
+one else, but we're just frightfully hard up, and I wouldn't be a bit
+surprised if Mother had to give up here before very long."
+
+"Give up!" exclaimed Ned. "You mean--go away?"
+
+"Yes. You see, she doesn't make very much money in the store; nothing
+like she used to before the war sent prices so high. And then, what with
+taxes and water and light, and the interest on the mortgage, why, it
+hardly pays. Just the same, if she says she won't take the money, Ned,
+why, I guess she won't, and that's all there is to it. But she ought
+to!"
+
+"Can't she charge more for things?" asked Laurie. "Everyone else does
+nowadays. That bake-shop down on Hudson Street gets eight cents for
+cream-puffs and éclairs, and you sell them for six."
+
+"I know; but Mama says six cents is enough and that the boys oughtn't to
+have to pay any more. And lots of things she sells for hardly any more
+than she used to before prices advanced. Why, I have to watch all the
+time; and when bills come in for things, I have to compare them with
+what we're getting for them, and lots of times I find that Mama's been
+selling for less than what she's paid! She just won't be a profiteer,
+she says!"
+
+"Gee! I hope you don't have to shut up," said Laurie. He looked around
+the little garden. "It--it's such a jolly place! And the house and
+everything. Gee, that would be a shame!"
+
+Polly sighed while she nodded. "It is nice," she agreed; "but there are
+so many things that ought to be done! Uncle Peter never would do much
+for us. He did promise to have the house painted, but he died about a
+month after that, and so it was never done."
+
+"Suppose he up and died so's he wouldn't have to do it?" inquired
+Laurie, suspiciously.
+
+Polly shook her head and looked a trifle shocked, until she caught the
+smile in Ned's eyes.
+
+"It doesn't look as if it would cost much money to paint it," remarked
+Ned, looking up at the rear of the little two-and-a-half-story building.
+"It's not much more than a doll's house, anyway. How many rooms are
+there, Polly?"
+
+"Three upstairs, and then a sort of attic room under the roof; and two
+downstairs."
+
+"Uh-huh. I just wondered. It wouldn't be much of a trick to paint the
+outside. Bet you I could do it in a couple of days."
+
+Laurie gasped. "A couple of days! You? How do you get like that? It
+would take a real painter a week to do it!"
+
+"Maybe; but I'm not a real painter," answered Ned, grinning. He glanced
+at the crumpled wad in his hand and held it tentatively toward Polly.
+"Maybe you'd better take charge of this, Polly, until we decide what to
+do with it."
+
+But Polly put her hands resolutely behind her, and shook her head with
+decision. "No, Ned, I'd rather not. If Mama says she won't have it, she
+won't, and you might just as well give it back to the--the fund."
+
+Somewhat to Laurie's surprise, Ned pocketed the money without further
+protest. "All right," he said. "It's very kind of your mother. We
+mustn't forget to see that her name's included in the list of those who
+donated things, Laurie. This week's 'Messenger' is going to tell all
+about it. Well, I've got to pull my freight. You coming, partner?"
+
+"Yes, I guess so," replied Laurie, without much enthusiasm. "I promised
+Bob and George to get another fellow and play some tennis this
+afternoon."
+
+"Gee! it must be great to have nothing to do but play," sighed his
+brother.
+
+"Huh, any one would think, to hear you talk, that you were working,"
+replied Laurie, crushingly. "All you do is stand around and watch the
+others."
+
+"Think so?" Ned smiled in a superior way. "You come down this afternoon
+and see how much standing around I do. Joe Stevenson says I've got to
+practise goals now. Isn't that the limit?"
+
+"I suppose it pains him to see you loafing," said Laurie. "Anyway, I
+dare say it'll keep you out of mischief."
+
+Laurie led the way to the back fence, against which leaned a plank with
+two pieces of wood nailed across it. This afforded a short cut to and
+from school, and was an idea of Bob's. From the top of the fence they
+dropped into the shrubbery and then made their way to the side gate.
+
+The arbor had not yet been denuded of its evergreen clothing, and there
+were other evidences of the recent festival in the shape of crumpled
+paper napkins lying on the ground. Thomas had taken down the lanterns
+and was packing them away in their case by the kitchen porch, and the
+boys called a greeting to him as they passed.
+
+"Bob still mean to make a tennis-court here?" asked Ned, as they went
+through the gate.
+
+"Yes. He's going to tear down that arbor right away, he says. So far,
+though, he hasn't found any one to do the work on the court. Every one
+is busy. I don't believe he will get it done in time to use it this
+fall."
+
+"Of course he won't. It's nearly November now. Say, you'd better take
+this money and hand it over to Whipple. You'll see him before I do. And
+tell him to put Mrs. Deane's name down with the other folks who
+contributed, will you?"
+
+"All right; but I think it's a shame to let her stand for all those
+cakes."
+
+"So do I; only--"
+
+"Only what?"
+
+"Maybe we can make it up to her another way. I've got an idea, Laurie."
+
+"I hope it's better than most of 'em. What is it?"
+
+And when Ned had explained it, Laurie considered a long moment and then
+indorsed it enthusiastically. "That's corking!" he cried. "For once,
+Ned, the old bean has worked! Only, when could we--"
+
+"Christmas vacation," said Ned. "We won't have much to do then. What do
+you say?"
+
+"I say that, for the first time in my life, Neddie, I'm proud to
+acknowledge you as my twin!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI--POLLY TELLS A SPOOK STORY
+
+
+Assured of sufficient funds to complete its season without financial
+embarrassment, the Hillman's football team seemed to take a new and
+firmer grip on things. Practice went well that week, and the players
+showed vim and snap. Perhaps the colder weather helped, too. The line-up
+that faced the scrubs on Friday for a short scrimmage was, barring
+accidents, that which would, four weeks later, start the game against
+Hillman's old rival, Farview Academy. Farley and White were at the ends,
+Captain Stevenson and Pringle were the tackles, Emerson and Corson were
+the guards, and Kewpie Proudtree was at center. Frank Brattle at
+quarter, Mason and Slavin for halves, and Pope at full-back composed the
+rest of the team. There were some weak places, to be sure; but, on the
+whole, Coach Mulford was fairly satisfied that he had the parts for a
+capable machine.
+
+Ned was still playing on the scrub eleven, and doing rather well. As a
+punter, at least, he deserved his position at left half, and it might be
+that he would develop into a fair goal-kicker; for in the last four
+days, under the tuition of the coach and full-back Pope, he had shown
+excellent promise. Those morning lessons, now abandoned, had grounded
+Ned well in the art of toeing the pigskin, and, whatever fame the future
+might hold for him as punter or drop-kicker or place-kicker, much of the
+credit would be Kewpie's.
+
+To-day, in the second ten minutes of the scrimmaging,--there was but
+twenty minutes in all,--Thursby, playing quarter, and probably acting
+under instructions, gave Ned his first chance to show what he could do
+in the way of field goals. Unable to reach a point nearer than twenty
+yards to the school team's goal, Thursby called for "kick formation,
+Turner back," and Ned went up-field with his heart in his mouth.
+Although the cross-bar was less than thirty yards from where he took his
+stand and almost directly in front of him, it looked to Ned to be a
+woeful distance away and the angle much more severe than it was. But he
+didn't have much time for reflection, for Thursby called his signal
+quickly, and the leather came back to him at a good pass, and the school
+team was crashing through.
+
+Ned always thought that he closed his eyes when he swung his toe against
+the rebounding ball and trusted to luck, but I doubt it, for the pigskin
+described a perfect arc and went well and true over the bar, and if Ned
+had had his eyes closed I don't believe the pigskin would have acted
+that way at all. Most of the scrub team players thumped him on the back
+and showed their delight in other ways, for they had not scored on the
+school team for nearly a week; while, at a little distance, Coach
+Mulford nodded his head almost imperceptibly. It was too bad Ned didn't
+see that nod, for it would have pleased him far more than the buffets of
+his team-mates.
+
+The next day Hillman's made a trip to Warring and played the Lansing
+team to a standstill, returning with a 22-0 victory tucked under its
+belt. Ned got into the game for a bare five minutes at the last, as did
+half a dozen other substitutes; but he was not called on to kick any
+goals, for which he was at once sorry and glad. To have had the eyes of
+nearly a thousand persons on him would, he thought, have precluded any
+possibility of success; but, on the other hand, had he succeeded--He
+sighed for lost opportunities!
+
+The attendance that afternoon was a matter of great joy to Manager Dave
+Murray, for Hillman's went home with a neat sum as its share of the
+day's profits, a sum far larger than he had counted on--large enough, in
+fact, to make up the difference between the net receipts from the fête
+and the three hundred and fifty dollars aimed at.
+
+Hillman's good fortune held for another week. There were no accidents
+during practice; every fellow in the line-up played for all that was in
+him; and the scrubs took a licking every afternoon. Ned twice more
+gained glory as a drop-kicker, although on a third occasion he failed
+lamentably. Unfortunately, neither of his successes brought victory to
+his team, since the opponents had on each occasion a safe lead in the
+scoring. Every afternoon, following the scrimmage, Ned was presented by
+the coach with a nice battle-scarred football, and instructed to go down
+to the east goal and "put some over." Sometimes Hop Kendrick or Ben
+Thursby went with him to hold the ball while he tried placement-kicks,
+and always an unhappy substitute was delegated to retrieve the pigskin
+for him; but the coach let him pretty much alone, and Pope looked on
+only occasionally and was surprisingly sparing of comment or advice. And
+yet, Ned improved, rather to his surprise, since he felt himself
+neglected and, as he said to Laurie, didn't see how they expected a
+fellow to learn goal-kicking if they didn't show him a little! But,
+although he didn't realize it, Ned had reached a point in his
+development where he was best left to his own devices, and Coach Mulford
+knew it and forbore to risk confusing him with unnecessary instruction.
+So Ned pegged away doggedly, and got results, as he considered, in spite
+of the coach!
+
+Against the Queens Preparatory Institute, which journeyed up from the
+city on Saturday, the Blue was able to emerge from four grueling
+fifteen-minute periods with the score 6-6, from the Blue's standpoint a
+very satisfactory showing, for Q. P. I. was a much-heralded team and had
+downed stronger elevens than Hillman's. So November began its second
+week, and cloudy days and not infrequently rainy ones took the place of
+the sunny weather of October.
+
+Laurie would have been somewhat at a loss for a way in which to spend
+his afternoons at that time, had it not been for Bob Starling's
+overmastering desire to build a tennis-court in the garden of the
+Coventry place. The weather was far too cold for tennis, although now
+and then he and Bob played George and Lee Murdock, and the wrecking of
+the old grape-arbor, preparatory to digging up the sod, proved a welcome
+diversion. Sometimes Thomas took a hand; but Thomas had plenty to do
+indoors, and the work was accomplished almost wholly by Bob and Laurie,
+with the occasional moral support of George or Lee.
+
+Usually an hour's labor with hammer or crowbar ended with an adjournment
+to the Widow Deane's, by way of the back fence, for refreshments.
+Sometimes it was warm enough to foregather in the little garden behind
+the shop and, armed with cream-puffs or tarts, spend a jolly half-hour
+in the society of Polly and Mae. At such times Mrs. Deane, hearing the
+shouts and laughter, came to the back door and smiled in sympathy.
+
+One glorious afternoon of mingled sunlight and frost there was an
+excursion afoot out into the country in search of nuts. Polly and Mae
+and Laurie and George and Bob and Lee formed the party. They carried two
+baskets, one of which George wore on his head most of the way, to the
+wonderment of the infrequent passers. Mae knew, or thought she knew,
+where there were chestnut trees, and led the way for three miles to what
+is called Two Jug Ridge. The chestnut trees, however, were, according to
+Laurie, away for the afternoon. They found some hickory nuts, not quite
+ready to leave their husks, and a few beech-nuts, and after gathering
+those they sat on a broad, flat boulder and looked down on Orstead and
+Little Windsor and some twelve miles of the Hudson River, and talked a
+good deal of nonsense--all except Lee, who went to sleep with his cap
+pulled over his eyes, and had a cold in his head for days after. George
+decided that when he was through college and was married, he would come
+back there and build a bungalow just where they were seated.
+
+"This will do for the front door-step," he expounded, "and over there
+will be a closed-in porch with an open fireplace and a Gloucester
+hammock."
+
+"That all you're going to have?" asked Bob. "No kitchen?"
+
+"Oh, there'll be a kitchen, all right, and a dining-room--no, I guess
+we'll eat on the porch. Wouldn't it be a dandy place, though? Look at
+the view!"
+
+"Fine," said Laurie, without much enthusiasm, remembering the last
+uphill mile. "Don't mind if I don't come to see you often, though, do
+you?"
+
+"Not a bit! Nobody asked you, anyway."
+
+"You could live on nuts," murmured Polly, "and could have shaggy-barks
+for breakfast and beech-nuts for dinner and--"
+
+"Grape-nuts for supper," said Laurie, coming to the rescue.
+
+"And you could call the place the Squirrel-Cage," suggested Bob.
+
+And that reminded Mae of a story her father had told of a man who had
+lived in the woods farther down the river some years before, and who ate
+nothing but nuts and things he found in the forest. "He lived all alone
+in a little cabin he'd built, and folks said he was a deserter from the
+army, and--"
+
+"What army?" George asked.
+
+"The Northern Army, of course."
+
+"I thought you might mean the Salvation Army. Then this was quite awhile
+ago, wasn't it?"
+
+"Of course, stupid! Years and years ago. And finally, when he died,
+folks found that he wasn't a deserter at all, but a general or a major
+or something, and they found a prize that the government had given him,
+some sort of a medal for bravery in battle. Wasn't that sad?"
+
+"Well," replied Laurie, doubtfully, "I suppose it was. I suppose the
+government would have shown better judgment if they'd given him a bag of
+nuts. Of course, he couldn't eat that medal!"
+
+"You're horrid! Anyway, it just shows that you mustn't judge folks
+by--by outward appearances, doesn't it?"
+
+"Rather! I've always said that, too. Take George, for example. Just to
+look at him, you'd never think he had any sense at all; but at times--"
+
+"Lay off of George," interrupted that young gentleman, threateningly.
+"If folks judged you by the way you talk, you'd be inside a nice high
+wall!"
+
+Why the talk should have drifted from there to the subject of ghosts and
+uncanny happenings isn't apparent, but it did. In the midst of it, Lee
+gave a tremendous snore that scared both the girls horribly, and sat up
+suddenly, blinking. "Hello!" he muttered. Then he yawned and grinned
+foolishly. "Guess I must have dropped off," he said apologetically.
+
+"You didn't," said George. "If you had you'd have waked up quicker! Cut
+out the chatter; Polly's telling a spook yarn."
+
+Lee gathered up a handful of beech-nuts and was silent except for the
+sound he made in cracking the shells.
+
+"It isn't much of a story," disclaimed Polly, "but it--it _was_ funny.
+It began just after Mama and I came here. I mean, that was the first
+time. One night, after we had gone to bed, Mama called me. 'I think
+there's some one downstairs, Polly,' she whispered. We both listened,
+and, sure enough, we could hear a sort of tapping sound. It wasn't like
+footsteps, exactly; more--more hollow, as if it came from a long way
+off. But it sounded right underneath. We listened a minute or two, and
+then it stopped and didn't begin again; and presently we lighted a
+candle and went downstairs, and nobody was there and everything was
+quite all right. So we thought that perhaps what we'd heard was some one
+walking along the street.
+
+"We didn't hear it again for nearly two weeks, and then it lasted
+longer--maybe two minutes. It got louder; and stopped, and began again,
+and died away; and we sat there and listened, and I thought of ghosts
+and everything except robbers, because it didn't sound like any one in
+the store. It was more as if it was some one in the cellar."
+
+"Well, maybe it was," suggested Laurie, when Polly paused.
+
+"That's what we thought, Nod, until we went to see. Then we remembered
+that there wasn't any cellar!"
+
+"Oh!" said Laurie.
+
+"What happened then?" asked Lee, flicking a shell at George.
+
+"It kept on happening every little while for two years. We got so we
+didn't think any more about it. Mr. Farmer, the lawyer, said what we
+heard was probably a rat. But I know very well it wasn't that. It was
+too regular. It was always just the same each time. At first we could
+just hear it a little, and then it grew louder and louder, and stopped.
+And then it began again, loud, and just sort of--of trailed off till you
+couldn't hear it at all. I suppose we never would have heard it if it
+hadn't been for Mama not sleeping very well, because it always came
+after midnight, usually about half-past twelve. After a while I didn't
+hear it at all, because Mama stopped waking me up."
+
+"Spooks," declared George, with unction. "The house is haunted, Polly."
+
+"Wish I lived there," said Bob eagerly. "I'm crazy about ghosts. They
+told me that old Coven--I mean your uncle, Polly--haunted the house
+we're in; but, gee! I've been around at all times of night and never
+seen a thing! There are lots of jolly, shivery noises--stairs creaking,
+and woodwork popping, and all that, you know; but nary a ghost. Look
+here, Polly! Let me sit down in the store some night, will you? I'd love
+to!"
+
+"You've got funny ideas of fun," murmured George.
+
+"Oh, but it's gone now," said Mae. "Hasn't it, Polly? You haven't heard
+the noise for a long time, have you?"
+
+"No, not for--oh, two years, I think. At least, that's what Mama says.
+Maybe, though, she sleeps better and doesn't hear things."
+
+"I guess Mr. What's-his-name was right," said Lee. "It was probably a
+rat, or a family of rats."
+
+"Rats wouldn't make the same sound every time," scoffed Laurie.
+
+"They might. Trained rats might. Maybe they escaped from a circus."
+
+"And maybe you escaped from an asylum," responded Laurie, getting up.
+"Let's take him home before he gets violent."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII--LAURIE MAKES A PROTEST
+
+
+The football team continued to add victories, and as the fateful 20th of
+November approached enthusiasm grew until, after the Whittier game,
+which Hillman's won by a field goal in the final hectic two minutes, it
+became more a furore than enthusiasm. Ned, by that time, had settled
+down to a realization that, no matter what progress he made this fall,
+no matter how adept he became at kicking a football down the field or
+over the cross-bar, he would not make the first team; that, in short, he
+was being educated as next year material. There was no injustice in
+this, and he realized it; for, aside from his proficiency as a kicker,
+he was not in the class with the school team backs. He couldn't worm his
+way through a hole in the opposing line the way Slavin could, nor smash
+through the defense the way Mason did, nor dodge and side-step in a
+broken field like Pope. Once going, Ned was rather hard to stop, for he
+displayed some of the slippery qualities of an eel; but it took him ten
+yards to get his speed up, and the opponents had a discouraging way of
+getting through and flooring him before the tenth yard was won! But he
+had grown to love the game, and no one toiled more conscientiously.
+There were times when Laurie devoutly wished that Ned hadn't taken up
+the game, for after a half-hour of Ned's chatter Laurie found the
+subject of football a trifle dull.
+
+On the Wednesday before the Farview contest the Orstead High School team
+came over for a practice game. At least, Hillman's called it a practice
+game and considered it such; but High School had blood in her eye and
+was secretly determined to wreak all the vengeance possible. Once a
+year, for the space of some three hours, Orstead High School swore
+allegiance to Hillman's and turned out at the field and rooted valiantly
+for the Blue while she battled with Farview. But all the rest of the
+time she was frankly hostile and derisive. This Wednesday afternoon the
+hostility was apparent from the first. More than a hundred boys and a
+scattering of girls followed their team to the Hillman's field and
+demanded revenge for the early-season defeat, while the High School
+team, which had passed through a rather successful season and was not at
+all the aggregation that the Blue had beaten 10 to 7, started right out
+after it.
+
+Coach Mulford began with his first-string players, and against them High
+School was not dangerous, although there were anxious moments. The
+second period ended with the score 7--0 in Hillman's favor, only a
+fumble by Slavin on High School's eight yards saving the visitor from a
+second touch-down. When the third quarter began, Coach Mulford put in
+nearly a new eleven, only Kewpie Proudtree, Farley, Mason, and Pope
+remaining over. Perhaps the High School coach had talked new strength
+and determination into his charges during the intermission, for the
+visitors started in on the second half in whirlwind fashion. The Blue
+kicked off, and High School's quarter got the ball on his
+twenty-five-yard line and scampered back to the thirty-five before he
+was laid low by Farley, the Blue's left end. From there, with fierce
+slams at Hillman's right and two short forward passes over the center of
+the line, High School reached the opponent's thirty-two. There an
+off-side penalty set her back, and, after two attempts at rushing that
+produced but three yards, she kicked to the five-yard line. Kendrick
+fumbled the catch, but recovered and was downed on his ten. Pope punted
+on second down to mid-field, and from there High School started another
+slashing advance that took her to the thirty-four yards before she was
+halted.
+
+On the side-lines, the High School supporters were shouting and
+beseeching and banners were waving deliriously. A tow-haired full-back,
+who had all along proved the visitor's best ground-gainer, smashed
+through the Hillman's left for two yards; and then, on fourth down,
+faking a kick, he set off on a romp around the adversary's right.
+Lightner, the second-string end, was effectually boxed, and the runner,
+turning wide, was off down the field at top speed. Only Hop Kendrick
+stood between him and the goal-line, and Hop waited on the fifteen
+yards, wary and alert. The tow-haired boy's feint to the right didn't
+fool him, and when the side-stepping to the left began, Hop was on him
+with a clean dive and a hard tackle, and the two rolled to earth
+together. But the ball was on the thirteen yards now, and it was first
+down for High School, and the latter was not to be denied. A plunge off
+tackle took the pigskin in front of the goal, though there was no gain.
+Hillman's piled up an attack at right guard. On third down, High School
+called for kick formation, and the tow-haired terror dropped back.
+
+From the side of the gridiron, Hillman's rooters chanted: "Block that
+kick! Block that kick!" But there was no kick to block, for the
+full-back only backed away a pace or two when the pigskin reached him,
+and then tossed to the corner of the field and to the eager hands of an
+uncovered right end who had but to make three strides before he was over
+the line. Hop got him then; but the damage was done, and the visitors
+lining the gridiron were cheering and cavorting wildly. The kick was
+from a difficult angle, but the tow-haired player made it, and the score
+was tied.
+
+The teams changed fields a minute later. Undismayed, Coach Mulford sent
+in three new substitutes, one of them in place of Pope. Hillman's got
+the ball in mid-field on a fumble, and set off for the adversary's goal;
+but the new players were not able to make much headway, and Deering, who
+had taken Pope's place, punted. The effort landed the ball on High
+School's thirty-seven, and her quarter ran it back eight more before he
+was stopped. Three tries at the line netted seven yards, and the visitor
+punted to Hop Kendrick on his eighteen. This time Hop hugged the ball
+hard and set off along the far side of the gridiron at a smart pace.
+Fortunately for him, one High School end overran. The other challenged,
+but missed his tackle. By that time a hasty interference had formed,
+and, guarded by Mason and Lightner, Hop reached his forty before
+misfortune overtook him. There a High School tackle crashed through the
+interference and nailed him hard.
+
+But that twenty-yard sprint had brought new vim to the Blue's novices,
+and new confidence, and from their forty yards they began a fast, hard
+attack that placed High School with her back to the wall almost before
+she realized it. If the substitutes lacked the experience and brawn of
+the first-choice players, they at least had sand and speed. And they had
+a quarter-back who was earnest and grim and determined, and who, sensing
+that the opponent was weary, realized that speed, and a lot of it, was
+the one thing that could save the day. And so Hop proved his right to
+his nickname that afternoon. Hop he did, and so did his team. Signals
+were fairly shot into the air, and there was no longer any time between
+plays for High School to recover her breath. Twice, with plunges at the
+right of the visitor's line and runs outside her tackles, Hillman's made
+her distance and the pigskin rested on the thirty-six yards.
+
+So far the Blue had attempted but three forward passes, of which only
+one had succeeded. Now, from position, Hop threw straight over the
+center, and somehow Lightner was there and pulled it down, although the
+enemy was clustered around him thick. That seven-yard gain was made ten
+when Deering was poked through the center, ten a little more, for the
+ball was down on High School's twenty-four-yard line. The game that had
+been proclaimed a practice event for the purpose of seasoning the
+substitutes against Saturday's contest had developed within the last
+half-hour into a battle to the death. Outside the gridiron the opposing
+factions hurled defiant cheers at each other and rooted as they had not
+rooted all the season. On the field the rivalry was even more intense,
+and black looks and hard knocks were the order.
+
+High School, sparring for time, administered to a breathless right
+guard, and then drew into a bunch for a whispered conference, while
+Hillman's supporters hooted derisively. Deering gained three and Boessel
+two more. High School ran two substitutes on, and, after the next play,
+two more. An old-fashioned criss-cross sent Mason around his own right
+end for eight yards and planted the ball just short of the ten-yard
+line. Mason gave place to Beedle. A slide off tackle centered the
+pigskin and gained a scant yard. Deering struck center for a yard loss,
+and Lightner was caught off-side. The ball went back to the seventeen
+yards.
+
+High School was playing desperately and her line had stiffened. Beedle
+gave way to Ned after that second down, and Ned had his instructions.
+The ball was in front of High School's goal, and from the seventeen
+yards a field goal was an easy proposition if the opponents could be
+held away from the kicker. Perhaps Hop Kendrick didn't realize why Ned
+had been sent in, or perhaps he thought better of his own judgment.
+Since by the rules Ned could not communicate the instructions from the
+coach until after the following play, he could only look his surprise
+when Hop failed to call him back to kicking position. Farley, captain in
+Stevenson's absence, seemed to be on the point of protesting, and even
+took a step toward the quarter-back; but he evidently reconsidered, for
+he returned to his position at the end of the line, and the starting
+signal followed.
+
+The play was a fake attack on the right, with Boessel carrying the ball
+to the left inside of tackle, and it worked to perfection. High School,
+over-anxious, stormed to the defense of her threatened right side, and
+Boessel, with Ned hanging at his flank as far as the five-yard line,
+where the earth suddenly rose up and smote him, romped over the line for
+the last and deciding touch-down, while the Blue cohorts went fairly
+wild with delight.
+
+On the side-line, Coach Mulford turned to Joe Stevenson. "What do you
+think of Kendrick?" he asked, smiling.
+
+"I'd kiss him if I had him here," answered Joe, grinning joyously. "I
+call him one sweet little quarter, Coach!"
+
+"Well, this was his day, all right," mused the other; "I hope he will
+show up as well Saturday. Now we'll see whether Turner can kick a goal.
+He's been doing some good work in practice, but he looks scared to death
+and will probably miss it by a mile."
+
+And Ned _was_ scared, too. He tried to steady his nerves by assuring
+himself that, whether he made it or missed it, the Blue had won the
+game, and that consequently a failure made little difference. But the
+silence of his schoolmates and the "booing" of the visiting rooters
+affected him badly. To Hop, holding the ball from the turf, it seemed
+that Ned would never have done pointing it. And so it seemed to the
+onlookers. Never was a kicker more deliberate. But at last Hop heard a
+faint "Down!" and drew his fingers from beneath the oval and waited an
+anxious moment. Then there was a clean, hard _thud_, and the
+quarter-back, watching its flight, saw the pigskin rise lazily, end over
+end, and go straight and high over the bar.
+
+And he might have heard Ned's loud sigh of relief, had not the pounding
+of the charging enemy and the cries of the Hillman's horde drowned it.
+
+Another kick-off and four plays ended the contest, and High School,
+after cheering half-heartedly, went off disgruntled and silent.
+
+On his way to the field-house, Ned, trotting along with Hop, encountered
+Polly and Mae in the throng, and paused to speak. "Bully game, wasn't
+it?" he said. Then, seeing Mae's High School banner, he added: "High
+School put up a dandy fight, Mae."
+
+"Indeed she did," agreed Mae. "I thought once she was going to win,
+too."
+
+Polly was laughing. "Poor Mae didn't know which team she wanted to win,"
+she explained. "When High School gained she waved her flag, and when
+Hillman's gained she waved it just the same. She was waving it all the
+time! That was a lovely goal you made, Nid."
+
+"Thanks. I--well, I was so scared I didn't know whether to kick the ball
+or bite it! I'm mighty glad it went over, though." He nodded and hurried
+on in the wake of Hop, who, being a very earnest young gentleman and
+completely absorbed in the business of football, considered girls far
+outside his scheme of things.
+
+Three quarters of an hour later, Laurie arose from his recumbent
+position on the window-seat of Number 16 East Hall, and delivered an
+ultimatum in quiet but forceful tones. "Ned," he said, "I saw that game
+from about the middle of the first quarter to the bitter end. Nothing
+escaped my eagle gaze. I can even tell you exactly how many times that
+High School umpire consulted his rules book when he thought no one was
+looking. I know how much dirt there was in Frank Brattle's left ear when
+they dragged him out. I know--"
+
+"Well, what of it? What's your chief trouble?" growled Ned.
+
+"Knowing all this and more, much more, Neddie, I refuse to listen any
+longer to your reminiscences. You've been through the game three times
+since you landed up here, and there's a limit to my endurance. And
+you've reached that limit, Neddie--you really have. I'm going down to
+George's, where I may hear something besides touch-downs and passes and
+goals. When you recover, Neddie, come on down."
+
+"Oh, go to the dickens!" muttered Ned, as the door closed softly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII--BEFORE THE BATTLE
+
+
+"The fellow who put these posts in," grunted Bob, as he heaved and
+tugged, "must have had more time than brains!"
+
+It was Thursday afternoon. A hard frost, which had frozen the ground a
+half-inch deep, had counseled him to finish the work of wrecking the
+arbor. But three posts remained, and at one of these Bob, after having
+dug around it, and pried at it with a bar until patience was exhausted,
+was tugging lustily. Laurie, wiping the sweat of honest toil from his
+brow, cast aside the bar and gave a hand.
+
+"Come on," he said hopefully. "One, two--three! Heave!"
+
+"Heave!" muttered Bob.
+
+But although the post, which had formed a corner of the arbor, gave from
+side to side, it refused to leave its nest. Panting, the boys drew off
+and observed it glumly.
+
+"Guess we'll have to dig some more," said Bob.
+
+"Wait a minute. Let me get a purchase on it with the bar."
+
+Laurie seized that implement again and drove it into the softened earth
+beside the post. As the first drive didn't send it far enough, he pulled
+it out, and put all his strength into the next effort. This time he
+succeeded beyond all expectations. The bar slipped through his fingers
+and disappeared from sight!
+
+"Well!" he gasped. "What do you know--"
+
+"Where-where did it go to?" cried Bob, dumfounded.
+
+"It went--it went to China, I guess! It just slipped right through my
+hands, and kept on slipping!" Laurie knelt and dug at the hole with his
+fingers.
+
+"Find it?" asked Bob. "Try the shovel."
+
+"No, I can't feel it. Hand it here." Laurie took the shovel and dug
+frantically. Then Bob dug. The result was that they enlarged and
+deepened the hole around the post, but the crowbar failed to
+materialize.
+
+"I suppose," said Laurie, finally, dropping the shovel and tilting back
+his cap, "what happened was that I struck a sort of hole, and the bar
+went right down in. Maybe it was a rat-hole, Bob."
+
+"I guess so. Anyway, it's gone, and we'll have to get a new one."
+
+"Oh, I guess we'll find it when we get the post out. Let's try the old
+thing."
+
+They did, and, after a moment of indecision, it came out most
+obligingly. But there was still no crowbar to be seen. Laurie shook his
+head, mystified. "That's the funniest thing I ever saw," he declared.
+
+"It surely is! Look here; maybe there's an old well there."
+
+"Then why didn't the post go down into it?"
+
+"Because it's covered over with stones. The bar happened to slip into
+a--a crevice."
+
+Laurie nodded dubiously. "That might be it," he agreed. "Or perhaps
+we've discovered a subterranean cavern!"
+
+"Caverns always are subterranean, aren't they?"
+
+"No; sometimes they're in the side of a hill."
+
+"Then they're caves."
+
+"A cave and a cavern are the same thing, you smart Aleck."
+
+"All right; but even if a cavern is in a hill, it's underground, and
+subterranean means under--"
+
+"Help! You win, Bob! Come on and get hold of this log and let's get it
+out of here." And, as they staggered with it across the garden to add it
+to the pile of posts and lumber already there, he continued: "There's
+one thing certain, Bob, and that's that you won't get me to play tennis
+on your court. I'd be afraid of sinking into the ground some fine day!"
+
+"Maybe you'd find the crowbar then," said Bob. "Heave!"
+
+Laurie "heaved," patted the brown loam from his hands, and surveyed the
+pile. "There's a lot of good stuff there," he pondered. "Some of it's
+sort of rotten, but there's enough to build something."
+
+"What do you want to build?"
+
+"I don't know. We could build a sort of covered seat, like the one in
+Polly's yard, where folks could rest and look on. Take about six of
+these posts and some of the strips, and some boards for the seat--"
+
+"Who'd dig the post-holes?" inquired Bob, coldly.
+
+"Oh, we could get a couple of the others to help. Honest, Bob, it would
+be a lot of fun. Maybe we couldn't do it before spring, though."
+
+"I might leave the stuff here," said Bob. "Thomas could sort of pile it
+a little neater, you know. I love to carpenter. Sometime we'll draw a
+plan of it, Nod."
+
+"Right-o! How about those other posts? No use trying to do anything with
+'em to-day, is there?"
+
+"No; we'll have to have another crowbar."
+
+Laurie looked relieved. "Well, let's go over and see whether the Widow's
+got any of those little cakes with the chocolate on top," he suggested.
+"Hard work always makes a fellow hungry."
+
+There was a rousing football meeting in the auditorium that evening,
+with speeches and music, songs and cheers; and the enthusiasm spilled
+over to the yard afterward, and threatened to become unruly until Dan
+Whipple mounted the steps of School Hall and spoke with all the
+authority of eighteen years and the senior class presidency. Whereupon
+someone suggested a cheer for the Doctor, and the joyous crowd thronged
+to the west end of the building and gave nine long "Hillman's," with a
+"Doctor Hillman" on the end. And then suddenly the lights flashed on on
+the porch, and there were the Doctor and Miss Tabitha, the former
+looking very much as if he had awakened very recently from a nap--which
+was, in fact, the case. But he was smiling as he stepped to the doorway
+and near-sightedly surveyed the throng.
+
+"This--er--testimonial would appear to demand some sort of a response,"
+he announced, as the applause that had greeted his appearance died away.
+"But I find myself singularly devoid of words, boys. Perhaps some of you
+recall the story of the visitor in Sunday-school who was unexpectedly
+called on by the superintendent to address the children. He hemmed and
+hawed and said, finally, that it gave him much pleasure to see so many
+smiling, happy faces. And he hoped they were all good little boys and
+girls and knew their lessons. And then his eloquence failed him, and
+after an unhappy interim he asked: 'And now, children, what shall I
+say?' And a little girl in the front row lisped: 'Pleathe, Mithter, thay
+"Amen" and thit down!'
+
+"Perhaps I'd better say 'Amen' and sit down, too," he went on, when the
+laughter had ceased; "but before I do I'd like to assure you that I am
+'rooting' just as hard as any of you for a victory the day after
+to-morrow. My duties will not allow me to see the team in action, as
+much as I'd like to, but I am kept well informed of its progress. I have
+my scouts at work constantly. Mr. Pennington reports to me on the work
+of the linemen; Mr. Barrett advises me each day as to the backs; Mr.
+Wells is my authority on--er--stratagem."
+
+This amused his hearers intensely, since none of the three instructors
+mentioned had ever been known to attend a game or watch a practice.
+
+"And," continued the principal, when he could, "I follow the newspaper
+reports of our enemy's progress. Of course, I don't believe all I read.
+If I did I'd be certain that only overwhelming disaster awaited us on
+Saturday. But there is one thing that troubles me. I read recently that
+the Farview center is a very large youth, weighing, if I am not
+mistaken, some one hundred and seventy pounds. While mere weight and
+brawn are not everything, I yet tremble to consider what may happen to
+the slight, atomic youth who will oppose him. Young gentlemen, I shudder
+when I dwell on that unequal meeting, that impending battle of David and
+Goliath!"
+
+When the new burst of laughter had subsided, the doctor continued more
+soberly: "I wish the team all success, a notable victory. Or, if the
+gods of battle will it otherwise, I wish it the manly grace to accept
+defeat smilingly and undismayed. I am certain of one thing, boys, which
+is that, whether fortune favors the Dark Blue or the Maroon and White,
+the contest will be hard fought and clean, and bring honor alike to the
+victor and vanquished. You have my heartiest good wishes. And"--the
+doctor took the hand of Miss Tabitha, who had been standing a few steps
+behind him--"and the heartiest good wishes of another, who, while not a
+close follower of your sports, has a warm spot in her heart for each and
+every one of you, and who is as firmly convinced as I am of the
+invincibility of the Dark Blue!"
+
+"Three cheers for Tab--for Miss Hillman!" cried a voice; and, at first a
+trifle ragged with laughter, the cheers rang forth heartily. Then came
+another cheer for the doctor and a rousing one for "Hillman's!
+_Hillman's!!_ HILLMAN'S!!!" And the little throng, laughing and
+chattering, dispersed to the dormitories.
+
+Friday saw but a light practice for the first team and a final
+appearance of the scrubs, who, cheered by the students, went through a
+few minutes of snappy signal work, and the waving sweaters and blankets
+dashed off to the field-house, their period of servitude at an end. For
+the first team there was a long blackboard drill in the gymnasium after
+supper, and Ned, who, somewhat to his surprise and very much to his
+gratification, had been retained on the squad, returned to Number 16 at
+nine o'clock in a rather bemused condition of mind. Kewpie, who
+accompanied him, tried to cheer him up.
+
+"It'll be all right to-morrow, Nid," he declared. "I know how you feel.
+Fact is, I wouldn't know one signal from another if I got it this
+minute, and as for those sequences--" Words failed him. "But when you
+get on the field to-morrow it'll all come back to you. It--it's sort of
+psychological. A trick of memory and all that. You understand!"
+
+"I don't see why he needs to worry, anyhow," observed Laurie, cruelly.
+"He won't get a show in to-morrow's game."
+
+Ned looked hopeful for a moment, then relapsed into dejection as Kewpie
+answered: "I'd like to bet you he will, Nod. I'd like to bet you that
+he'll play a full period. You just watch Farview lay for Pope! Boy,
+they're going to make hard weather for that lad! They were after him
+last year, but they couldn't get him and he played right through. But
+I'd like to bet you that to-morrow they'll have him out of it before the
+last quarter."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Laurie, in surprise. "They don't play that
+sort of a game, do they?"
+
+"What sort of a game?" responded Kewpie. "They play hard, that's the way
+they play! And every time they tackle Pope, they'll tackle him so he'll
+know it. And every time he hits the line, there'll be one of those
+red-legs waiting for him. Oh, they don't play dirty, if you mean that;
+but they don't let any chances slip, believe me!"
+
+"It sounds sort of off color to me, though," Laurie objected. "How are
+you going to put a fellow out of the game if you don't slug or do
+something like that?"
+
+Kewpie smiled knowingly. "My son," he said, "if I start after you and
+run you around the dormitory about twenty times--"
+
+Ned, in spite of his down-heartedness, snickered at the picture evolved,
+and Kewpie grinned.
+
+"Well, suppose some one else did, then. Anyhow, after he'd done it about
+a couple of dozen times, you'd be all in, wouldn't you? He wouldn't have
+to kick you or knock you down or anything, would he? Well, that's what I
+mean. That's the way they'll go after Pope. They'll tire him out. You
+understand. And every time they tackle him, they'll tackle him good and
+hard. Well, suppose Pope does go out, and there's a chance for a field
+goal, as there's likely to be. Who will Pinky put in? Why, Nid, of
+course! Who else is there? Brattle can't kick one goal in six. No more
+can Deering. What do you think Mulford's been nursing Nid all the season
+for?"
+
+"Next year?" said Laurie, questioningly.
+
+"Sure--and this year, too. You watch and see. I'd like to bet you that
+Nid'll have a goal to kick to-morrow--yes, and that he'll kick it, too!"
+
+"Don't!" groaned Ned. "I never could do it!"
+
+"Well," laughed Laurie, "I don't bet for money, Kewpie, but I tell you
+what I'll do. If Ned kicks a goal to-morrow, I'll take you over to the
+Widow's, and I'll buy you all the cream-puffs you can eat at one
+sitting!"
+
+"It's a go!" cried Kewpie. "And if he doesn't, I'll do it to you!"
+
+"Of course," explained Laurie, in recognition of his brother's look of
+pained inquiry, "I'm not making the offer because I think Ned can't do
+it, or because I don't want him to play. You bet I do! It's because I do
+want him to, Kewpie. You see, I usually lose bets!"
+
+"All right, you crazy galoot. I've got to beat it. Pinky made us swear
+by the Great Horn Spoon to be in bed by ten. Good night. Don't let the
+signal stuff worry you, Nid. It'll come out all right to-morrow. You
+understand. Night!"
+
+When the door had closed, Laurie laughed and turned to Ned. "He's a good
+old scout, isn't he? I say, what's the matter with you, Ned? You look
+like the end of a hard winter! Cheer up! It may not be true!"
+
+But Ned shook his head, although he tried to smile unconcernedly. "It'll
+happen just the way he told, Laurie," he said, sadly. "I just know it
+will! They'll get Pope out of the way, and there'll be a field goal
+wanted, just as there was Wednesday, and Mulford will send me in!"
+
+"Well, what of it? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
+
+"I--I'm scared!"
+
+"Oh, piffle, Neddie! You've got nerves, that's all. The night before the
+battle, you know, and all that! In the morning you'll be as right as
+rain. Get your clothes off and tumble in. Want me to read a story to
+you? There's a corker in the 'Post' this week."
+
+"No, thanks; I guess not. I'd better go to sleep."
+
+But, although Ned, stifling a desire to sit up and read the corking
+story himself, put the light out at ten minutes before ten, he lay awake
+until after midnight and suffered as blue a case of funk as any boy ever
+did. And when, at length, sleep came, it was filled with visions in
+which he stood in the center of a vast arena, the object of countless
+eyes, and tried over and over, and never with success, to kick a
+perfectly gigantic leather ball over a cross-bar that was higher than
+the Masonic Temple at home!
+
+The truth is that Ned was over-trained and stale. And the further truth
+is that when he awoke to as sweet a November morning as ever peered down
+from a cloudless sky through golden sunlight, he felt, as he phrased it
+to himself, like a sock that had just come through the wringer!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX--NED IS MISSING
+
+
+Ned ate almost no breakfast, and Laurie noted the fact, but, after a
+glance at his brother's face, said nothing. After all, he reflected,
+there were probably others of the squad who were displaying no more
+appetite this morning. Afterward, on the way to School Hall for their
+only recitation of the day, he asked off-handedly: "How are you feeling,
+Neddie?"
+
+Ned didn't answer at once. When he did, he only replied laconically:
+"Rotten!"
+
+"How do you mean, rotten?" Laurie disguised anxiety under flippancy.
+"Tummy out of whack? Or is it a case of ingrowing signals?"
+
+"I don't know what the trouble is," answered Ned seriously. "I feel
+perfectly punk. And I--I'm scared, Laurie. I'd give a million dollars if
+I didn't have to go to the field this afternoon. I wish to goodness I
+could duck somehow. Say, feel my forehead. Isn't it hot?"
+
+Laurie felt, and shook his head. "Cool as a cucumber, you old fakir.
+Buck up, Neddie! You'll feel better after a while. Did you sleep all
+right?"
+
+"I guess so," replied the other dispiritedly. "I dreamed a lot. Dreamed
+I was kicking goals over a bar as high as a mountain. And the ball was
+as big as a hogshead. And there were about a million folks watching me,
+and Mr. Cornish was beating a bass-drum."
+
+Laurie laughed. "Some dream, Neddie! Tell you what. After we get out of
+here, we'll take a nice, long hike. Mulford wants the players to stay
+outdoors, doesn't he? Didn't you tell me he said you were to walk or
+something?"
+
+Ned nodded. "I'm too tired to walk, though, Laurie. Guess I'll get a
+book and go over to the park. Or go down and jump in the river!"
+
+"Fine idea!" scoffed Laurie. "What have you got against the river? It
+never did anything to you, did it?"
+
+Ned, however, refused to smile. "You don't need to come along," he said.
+"I--I guess I'd rather be alone, Laurie."
+
+"You will be, if you're going to jump in the river, partner! The water's
+a heap too cold to appeal to me. Well, cheer up. See you when we come
+out."
+
+There was a holiday feeling in the air this morning that didn't promise
+well for recitations, and Mr. Brock's chemistry class was a sore trial
+to that gentleman. Yet, although he frowned often and sighed many
+despairing sighs, he made allowance for the prevailing mood of
+restlessness and exhibited unusual patience. And finally it was over and
+the class trooped out.
+
+"You stay here," said Laurie, "and I'll run over and get a couple of
+books from the room. What do you want?"
+
+"I don't care--anything," answered Ned, listlessly.
+
+When Laurie went off, Ned seated himself on a step and gazed forlornly
+around him. Groups of boys stood on the walks in animated conversation.
+Near at hand, a half-dozen juniors were discussing the game avidly,
+drawing comforting conclusions from a comparison of the season's
+performances of Hillman's and Farview. Suddenly the prospect of sitting
+on a park bench with Laurie became utterly distasteful to Ned, and, with
+a hurried glance in the direction of East Hall, he arose and made his
+way along the drive and into Summit Street. There he turned to the left
+and walked quickly to the corner. At Washington Street another look
+behind showed that he had made his escape, and he heaved a sigh of
+relief and went on past the library and into Cumber Street, heading
+unconsciously toward the open country eastward of town.
+
+When Laurie returned to School Hall with a book for Ned and a magazine
+for himself, he sat down and waited a few minutes, supposing that Ned
+would be back. When he didn't come, Laurie went over to School Park,
+thinking that he had perhaps grown tired of waiting in the yard. But no
+Ned was to be seen, and, puzzled but untroubled, Laurie dawdled into
+Pine Street. The white-and-red sign above the Widow Deane's little store
+shone bravely in the sunlight. For an hour Laurie enjoyed the society of
+Polly and Antoinette in the sunny garden, where, against the board
+fence, a clump of hardy chrysanthemums made a cheery showing of yellow
+and lavender. Antoinette had retired to winter quarters, which means
+that a gunny-sack and a length of old red carpet had been draped over
+her box. But just now the drapery was lifted, and Antoinette was doing
+great things to a very large cabbage-leaf. Towser had established
+himself in the sunshine atop the porch roof and gazed down benignly at
+the pair below.
+
+Laurie and Polly talked, of course, about the game. He and George were
+again to act as escorts to the two girls, a fact that had eaten a large
+hole in Laurie's remaining allowance. About ten o'clock he took himself
+away, reminding Polly to be ready at half-past one, since it took a good
+ten minutes to walk to the field, and because, wisely, he realized that
+to Polly "half-past one" would mean a quarter or two. Climbing the fence
+into Bob's yard, he discovered that young man with a new crowbar about
+to begin an attack on the remaining posts of the arbor. So he removed
+his sweater, moistened his hands in the time-honored and only
+efficacious manner, and joined the assault. After the posts were added
+to the pile beside the fence, the two boys went indoors and refreshed
+the inner man with piping-hot ginger cookies. Thus it was that it was
+nearly noon when Laurie got back to Number 16, to find, to his
+uneasiness, that Ned was not there. Nor, as far as any evidences showed,
+had he been there since before breakfast.
+
+Laurie threw himself on the window-seat and tried to apply himself to
+the magazine that he had carried all morning. But he began to be really
+worried about Ned. He didn't understand where he could be. Even if he
+had gone off by himself, mooning along the roads, which was what Laurie
+suspected he had done, he should have been home before this, for, as
+Laurie knew, the players were to go to lunch at twelve. Presently he
+dropped the magazine and strode across the corridor to Number 15. Kewpie
+was not in, but Hop was there--a more than ordinarily serious-faced Hop,
+who replied to Laurie's inquiry in an absent-minded manner suggesting
+that some one had placed him in a trance and gone away without awakening
+him. Hop hadn't seen Nid all morning. Kewpie had just gone over to West
+Hall. He hoped there wouldn't be any wind this afternoon. Farview had a
+punter that could do fifty yards easily, and a wind would lengthen his
+kicks frightfully. Did Nod think those clouds meant wind?
+
+Laurie withdrew without venturing an opinion in the matter. Football, he
+reflected, was a far more dangerous pastime than folks generally
+realized, when it could affect a fellow's brains like that! Downstairs,
+he searched the little group about the dining-hall door, and finally
+made inquiry of Dave Murray. Dave was worried and excited and a bit
+short-tempered.
+
+"Nid Turner? No, I haven't seen him. He'll be here pretty quick, though.
+We eat at twelve."
+
+He left Laurie, to push his way toward the entrance to accost Mr.
+Mulford, who was coming in; and Laurie went out and sat down on the step
+and watched. Kewpie came striding across from West Hall, smiling and
+evidently very fit. But when Laurie questioned him the smile faded.
+
+"Nid? No, I haven't set eyes on him. Isn't he here? Are you sure? Say,
+you don't suppose the silly guy has bolted? He was in mean shape last
+night, Nod. But he wouldn't do that! He's no quitter. He'll be here in a
+minute or two."
+
+"Suppose--suppose he isn't?" asked Laurie, anxiously. "Would it matter
+much?"
+
+"Matter?" Kewpie shrugged, one eye on the dining-hall door, through
+which his team-mates were beginning to pass. "It wouldn't matter to the
+game, I guess. I was only trying to cheer him up last night. You
+understand. It isn't likely Pinky will use him. But it would be a bad
+thing for him, Nod. It would be an awful black eye, in fact, if he cut
+the game. Guess Pinky would just about can him for all time! I say, I've
+got to hustle in there. Why don't you have a look around for him? Maybe
+he's in the library, or over in West, or--or somewhere. See you later,
+Nod!"
+
+Kewpie disappeared into the dining-hall, and a moment later the door was
+closed. Laurie acted on Kewpie's suggestion, and made a thorough search
+of School Hall and the other dormitory, and even poked his head into the
+gymnasium, where only an empty floor met his gaze. After that there
+seemed nothing to do but wait. Ned had already missed his lunch, for the
+fellows were coming out into the corridor when Laurie returned to East
+Hall. Murray nailed him as he tried to pass unnoticed to the stairs.
+
+"Say, Nod, where's that brother of yours?" he demanded indignantly.
+"Didn't he know that lunch was at twelve? Where is he, anyway?"
+
+"I don't know, Dave," Laurie answered, miserably. "He went for a walk
+this morning, and I haven't seen him since. I guess he went too far and
+couldn't get back in time. I've been looking all over for him."
+
+"That's fine!" said the manager, bitterly. "Mulford asked for him, and I
+said I'd look him up. You'd better find him mighty quick, Nod. Tell him
+to get something to eat somewhere and be at the gym not later than one.
+There's a floor drill then. I'll make it all right with Mulford,
+somehow. But there'll be the dickens and all to pay if he doesn't show
+up!"
+
+Hoping against hope, Laurie hurried up to the room. But there was no
+Ned. One o'clock came and passed. Time and again Laurie went to the gate
+and looked up and down the street, but without result. Ned had
+disappeared utterly, it seemed, and the unwelcome conclusion grew in
+Laurie's mind that Ned had shown the white feather and had deliberately
+absented himself. Laurie didn't like to think that, and there were
+moments when he couldn't. But here it was nearly half-past one, and Ned
+hadn't come, and facts are facts! It looked, he thought sadly, like a
+bad day for the honor of the Turners!
+
+At half-past one he found George Watson in his room, and handed over one
+of his tickets. "I can't go to the field with you," he said, "but I'll
+find you over there. Try to keep a seat for me, will you?"
+
+"What's the big idea?" asked George, blankly. "Why can't you go with us?
+That's a fine game to play!"
+
+"I'll tell you later. I--I've got something to do. Be a good fellow,
+George, won't you? And tell Polly how it is, will you?"
+
+"How the dickens can I tell Polly how it is when I don't know how it is
+myself?" asked George, indignantly. "Oh, all right! But you want to get
+there pretty quick, Nod. It's hard to hold seats when there aren't
+enough of them in the first place. There's a regular mob going out there
+already!"
+
+Disconsolately Laurie hurried out and stationed himself at the dormitory
+entrance. Presently the players emerged from the gymnasium in their togs
+and passed through the little gate to Washington Street. Laurie watched
+them file past, hoping hard that Ned would be among them. But, although
+all the rest were there, twenty-one in all, there was no Ned.
+
+From Washington Street and Summit Street came a steady tramping of feet,
+accompanied by a swishing sound as the pedestrians brushed through the
+fallen leaves. Occasionally an automobile went by with a warning honk of
+its horn at the corner. Looking over the withered hedge, Laurie could
+see the colors of Hillman's and Farview marching past, banners of dark
+blue bearing the white Old English H, maroon-and-white flags adorned
+with the letters "F. A." Laughter and the merry, excited chatter of many
+voices came to him. The yard was empty, except for a boy hurrying down
+the steps of West Hall, and he too quickly disappeared through the gate.
+
+Presently Laurie looked at his watch. The time was eighteen minutes to
+two. He left East Hall and turned toward the gymnasium. Out of the
+shelter of the dormitory a little breeze fanned his face, and he
+remembered Hop Kendrick's dread of a wind that would put more power into
+the toe of the Farview punter. It might be, he reflected, that Hop was
+due for disappointment; but the matter didn't seem very important to
+him. The locker-room in the gymnasium was empty. Over the benches lay
+the discarded underclothing of the players, and sometimes the outer
+clothing as well, suggesting that excitement on this occasion had
+prevailed over orderliness. Laurie made his way to Ned's locker. It was
+closed, and behind the unfastened door hung his togs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX--FOR THE HONOR OF THE TURNERS
+
+
+Walking felt good to Ned that morning. The air, brisk in spite of the
+sunshine and the day's stillness, cleared his head of the queer
+cloudiness that had been there since awakening, and, turning into the
+country road that led eastward toward the higher hills, he strode along
+briskly. He had, he reflected, played rather a low-down trick on Laurie;
+but that could be explained later, and Laurie wouldn't mind when he
+understood. When he had gone the better part of a mile into the country,
+and the road had begun to steepen perceptibly, the sound of a motor
+behind warned him to one side. But, instead of passing in a cloud of
+dust, the automobile slowed down as it reached the pedestrian, and the
+driver, a genial-looking man of middle age, hailed.
+
+"Going my way?" he asked. "Get in if you like."
+
+Ned hesitated, and then climbed in beside the solitary occupant of the
+car. The prospect of speeding through the sunlit morning world appealed
+to him, and he thanked the driver and snuggled into the other corner of
+the front seat.
+
+"That's all right, my boy," answered the man, genially. "Glad to have
+company. How far are you going?"
+
+"Just--just up the road a ways," replied Ned, vaguely. "I was out for a
+walk, only this seemed better."
+
+"Well, it's quicker, though it doesn't give you quite so much exercise,"
+was the response. "You sing out when you've had enough. Maybe you can
+get a lift going back, if you're not in too much of a hurry. Still,
+there isn't much travel on this road. Most folks go around by Little
+Windsor. It's longer, but the road's a sight better. I go this way
+because I can do it quicker. There are some fierce bumps, though. Yell
+if you drop out!"
+
+The car was a heavy one with good springs, and as long as Ned remained
+in it the bad bumps didn't materialize. His companion evidently liked to
+talk, and Ned learned a good deal about him and his business, without,
+however, finding it very interesting. The man asked few questions, and
+so Ned merely supplied the information that he was from Hillman's School
+and that he liked to walk and that he had all the morning to get back
+in. The car kept up an even, effortless speed of twenty-seven or -eight
+miles an hour, and it was finding himself booming up the straight grade
+over Candle Mountain that brought Ned to a sudden realization that if he
+meant to get back to school by twelve o'clock without undue effort he
+had best part company with his chatty acquaintance. So, at the summit of
+the hill, he said good-by, repeated his thanks, and got out.
+
+"Guess you're about six miles from Orstead," said the man. "It won't
+take you long to get back there, though, if you find a lift. Don't
+hesitate to stop any one you see; they'll be glad to take you in.
+Good-by!"
+
+The gray automobile went on and was speedily dropping from sight beyond
+the nearly leafless forest. Ned watched it disappear, and then set his
+face toward home. The ride had certainly done him good, he told himself.
+The prospect of being called on to kick a dozen goals wouldn't have
+dismayed him a mite at that moment. In fact, he suddenly realized that
+he was going to be horribly disappointed if the chance to attempt at
+least one goal from the field did not come to him, and he wondered why
+he had felt so craven last night.
+
+After a mile or so a small, dust-covered car overhauled him and went by
+without a challenge from him. It was still only ten o'clock, and he had
+two hours yet, and he had no intention of begging a ride. Taken
+leisurely, the remaining miles would be covered without weariness and in
+plenty of time. When he had accomplished, as he reckoned, about half the
+distance to Orstead, his watch said seventeen minutes to eleven. The
+forenoon had grown appreciably warmer, and so had Ned. Beside the road
+was a little knoll carpeted with ashy-brown beech-leaves. Only a stone
+wall, bordered with blackberry briars, intervened.
+
+Ned climbed across the wall and seated himself on the slope of the
+knoll. The land descended gently before him toward the river and the
+town, but neither was in sight. Presently, removing his cap, he
+stretched himself on his back and linked his fingers under his head. And
+presently, because the blue, sunlit, almost cloudless sky was too
+dazzling to gaze at long, he closed his eyes. And as he did so a
+strange, delicious languor descended upon him. He sighed luxuriously and
+stretched his legs into a more comfortable position. It was odd that he
+should feel sleepy at this time of day, he thought, and it wouldn't do
+to stay here too long. He wished, though, that he didn't have to get
+anywhere at any especial time. It would be great to just lie here like
+this and feel the sun on his face and--
+
+At about that moment he stopped thinking at all and went sound asleep.
+
+When he awoke he was in shadow, for the sun had traveled around and past
+the elbow of a near-by old and knotted oak whose brown-pink leaves still
+clung to the twisted branches. Ned looked around him in puzzlement, and
+it was a long moment before he could account for his surroundings. When
+he had, he sat up very quickly and gave a startled look at his watch.
+The thing was crazy! It said twenty-one minutes past two! Of course it
+couldn't be that late, he told himself indignantly. But even as he said
+it he was oppressed by a conviction that it was. And a look at the sun
+removed any lingering doubt!
+
+He sprang to his feet, seized his cap, and stumbled across the wall,
+and, again on the road, set out at a run toward home. But after a moment
+he slowed up. "Was there any use in hurrying now? The game was already
+in progress--had been going on for twenty minutes. The first quarter was
+probably nearly over. What would they say to him, the fellows and Coach
+Mulford and--Laurie? Somehow, what Laurie would think appeared far more
+important than what any of the others might. He would have such a poor
+excuse, he reflected ruefully! Went for a walk, and fell asleep by the
+road! Gee, he couldn't tell them that! He might tell Laurie; but the
+others--"
+
+He was jogging on as he thought things over. Even if he ran all the way,
+and he couldn't do that, of course, he wouldn't get to school before
+three. And then he would have to change into his togs and reach the
+field. And by that time the second half would have started. Wouldn't it
+be far better to remain away altogether? He might easily reach his room
+unseen, and then, when Laurie returned, he could pretend illness. He
+might not fool Laurie; but the others, Coach Mulford and Dave Murray and
+the fellows, would have to believe him.
+
+If a fellow was ill, he couldn't be expected to play football. He even
+got as far as wondering what particular and peculiar malady he could
+assume, when he put the idea aside.
+
+"No use lying about it," he muttered. "Got to face the music, Ned! It
+was your own fault. Maybe Mulford will let me down easy. I wouldn't like
+to queer myself for next year. Gee, though, what'll the school think?"
+And Ned groaned aloud.
+
+While he had slept, five vehicles had passed him, and as many persons
+had seen him lying there asleep in the sun and idly conjectured about
+him. But now, when he needed help to conquer the interminable three
+miles that stretched between him and the town, and although he
+constantly turned his head to gaze hopefully back along the dusty road,
+not a conveyance appeared. Before long, since he had unwisely started at
+too great a speed, he was forced to sit down on a rock and rest. He was
+very nearly out of breath and the perspiration was trickling down
+beneath his cloth cap. A light breeze had sprung up since he had dropped
+asleep, and it felt very grateful as it caressed his damp hair and
+flushed face.
+
+Perhaps those three miles were nearer four, because when, tired, dusty,
+and heart-sick, he descried the tower of the Congregational church above
+the leafless elms and maples of the village, the gilded hands pointed to
+twelve minutes past three. Even had he arrived in time, he reflected
+miserably, he would never have been able to serve his team-mates and his
+school, for he was scarcely able to drag one foot behind the other as he
+finally turned into the yard.
+
+The place appeared deserted, grounds and buildings alike, as Ned
+unhesitatingly made his way across to the gymnasium. He had long since
+decided on his course of action. No matter whether he had failed his
+coach and his schoolmates, his duty was still plain. As late as it was,
+he would get into his togs and report at the field. But when, in the
+empty locker-room, he paused before where his football togs should have
+been, he found only empty hooks. The locker, save for towels, was empty!
+
+At first he accepted the fact as conclusive evidence of his
+disgrace--thought that coach or manager or an infuriated student body
+had removed his clothes as a signal of degradation! Then the
+unlikelihood of the conclusion came, and he wondered whether they had
+really been there. But of course they had! He remembered perfectly
+hanging them up, as usual, yesterday afternoon. Perhaps some one had
+borrowed them, then. The locker had been unfastened, probably, for half
+the time he forgot to turn the key in it. Wondering, he made his way out
+of the building, undecided now what to do. But as he reached the corner
+a burst of cheers floated to him from the play-field. His head came up.
+It was still his duty to report, togs or no togs! Resolutely he set out
+on Summit Street, the sounds of battle momentarily growing nearer as he
+limped along.
+
+By the entrances many automobiles and some carriages lined the road.
+Above the stand the backs of the spectators in the top row of seats
+looked strangely agitated, and blue flags waved and snapped. A fainter
+cheer came to him, the slogan of Farview, from the farther side of the
+field. He heard the piping of signals, and a dull thud of leather
+against leather, then cries and a whistle shrilling; and then a great
+and triumphant burst of cheering from the Blue side.
+
+He hurried his steps, leaped the low fence beside the road, and came to
+a group of spectators standing at the nearer end of the long, low grand
+stand. He could see the gridiron now, and the battling teams in
+mid-field. And the scoreboard at the farther end! And, seeing that, his
+heart sank. "Hillman's 7--Visitors 9" was the story! He tugged the
+sleeve of a man beside him, a youngish man in a chauffeur's livery.
+
+"What period is it?" he asked.
+
+"Fourth," was the answer. The man turned a good-natured look on the
+boy's anxious face.
+
+"Been going about four minutes. You just get here?"
+
+Ned nodded. "How did they get their nine?" he asked.
+
+"Farview? Worked a forward pass in the second quarter for about thirty
+yards, and smashed over for a touch-down. They failed at goal, though.
+That made 'em six, and they got three more in the last quarter.
+Hillman's fumbled about on their thirty, and that bandy-legged full-back
+of Farview's kicked a corking goal from field. Gee--say, it was some
+kick!"
+
+"Placement or drop?"
+
+"Drop. Almost forty yards, I guess. There they go again!" The chauffeur
+tiptoed to see over a neighbor's head. Ned, past his shoulder, had an
+uncertain glimpse of the Maroon and White breaking through the Blue's
+left side. When the down was signaled, he spoke again.
+
+"How did Hillman's score?" he asked.
+
+"Huh? Oh, she got started right off at the beginning of the game and
+just ate those red-legs up. Rushed the ball from the middle of the
+field, five and six yards at a whack, and landed it on the other
+fellow's door-sill. Farview sort of pulled together then and made a
+fight; but that big chap, Pope, the full-back, smashed through finally,
+right square between the posts. After that he kicked the goal. Guess the
+red-legs had stage-fright then, but they got over it, and our fellows
+haven't had a chance to score since. Pope had to lay off last quarter.
+They played him to a standstill. Mason's mighty good, but he can't make
+the gains Pope did. First down again! Say, they aren't doing a thing but
+eating us up!"
+
+Ned wormed himself to the front of the group, and came to anchor at the
+side of a tall policeman, close to the rope that stretched from the end
+of the stand well past the zone line. By craning his neck he could look
+down the length of the field. White-sweatered, armed with big blue
+megaphones, Brewster and Whipple and two others, cheer leaders, were
+working mightily, although the resulting cheers sounded weak where Ned
+stood. The teams were coming down the field slowly but surely, the Blue
+contesting every yard, but yielding after every play. The lines faced
+each other close to the thirty now. Across the gridiron, Farview's pæans
+were joyful and confident, and the maroon-and-white flags gyrated in
+air. Well back toward his threatened goal, Hop Kendrick, white-faced and
+anxious, called hoarse encouragement. Ned clenched his hands and hoped
+and feared.
+
+A line attack turned into an unexpected forward pass, and a tall Farview
+end came streaking down just inside the boundary. Hop was after him like
+a shot; but Deering, who had taken Pope's place, ran him out at the
+fifteen-yard line. The Maroon and White went wild with joy. The teams
+trooped in on the heels of the diminutive referee, and the ball was down
+just inside Hillman's fifteen. Ned looked the Blue team over. Save for
+Corson and White, the line was made up of first-string men, but the back
+field was, with the single exception of Mason, all substitutes:
+Kendrick, Boessel, and Deering.
+
+A plunge straight at the center gave Farview two more precious yards,
+Kewpie, apparently pretty well played out, yielding before the desperate
+attack. Three more yards were gained between Emerson and Stevenson on
+the left. Third down now, and five to go! Evidently Farview was
+determined on a touch-down, for on the nine yards, with an excellent
+chance for a field goal, she elected to rush again. But this time the
+Blue's center held, and the Farview left half, when friend and foe was
+pulled from above him, held the pigskin scarcely a foot in advance of
+its former position. It was Hillman's turn to cheer, and cheer she did.
+Ned added a wild shout of triumph to the din about him.
+
+Fourth down, and still five yards to gain! Now Farview must either kick
+or try a forward, and realizing this the Blue's secondary defense
+dropped back and out. A Farview substitute came speeding on, a new left
+tackle. Then, amid a sudden hush, the quarter sang his signals: "Kick
+formation! 73--61--29--" The big full-back stretched his arms out.
+"12--17--9!" Back sped the ball, straight and breast-high. The Blue line
+plunged gallantly. The stand became a pandemonium. The full-back swung a
+long right leg, but the ball didn't drop from his hands. Two steps to
+the left, and he was poising it for a forward pass! Then he threw, well
+over the up-stretched hands of a Hillman's player who had broken
+through, and to the left. A Maroon and White end awaited the ball, for
+the instant all alone on the Blue's goal-line. Ned, seeing, groaned
+dismally. Then from somewhere a pair of blue-clad arms flashed into
+sight, a slim body leaped high, and from the Hillman's side of the field
+came a veritable thunder of relief and exultation. For the blue arms had
+the ball, and the blue player was dodging and worming toward the farther
+side-line! Captain Stevenson it was who cleared the path for him at the
+last moment, bowling over a Farview player whose arms were already
+stretched to grapple, and, in a shorter time than the telling takes, Hop
+Kendrick was racing toward the distant goal!
+
+Afterward Ned realized that during the ensuing ten or twelve seconds he
+had tried desperately to shin up the tall policeman; but at the time he
+had not known it, nor, or so it appeared, had the policeman, for the
+latter was shouting his lungs out! Past the middle of the field sped
+Hop, running as fleetly as a hare, and behind him pounded a solitary
+Farview end. These two left the rest of the field farther and farther
+back at every stride. For a moment it seemed that Hop would win that
+desperate race; but at last, near the thirty-five yards, he faltered,
+and the gap between him and his pursuer closed to a matter of three or
+four strides, and after that it was only a question of how close to the
+goal the Blue runner would get before he was overtaken and dragged down.
+The end came between the fifteen- and twenty-yard streaks. Then, no more
+than a stride behind, the Farview player sprang. His arms wrapped
+themselves around Hop's knees, and the runner crashed to earth.
+
+For a long minute the babel of shouting continued, for that eighty-yard
+sprint had changed the complexion of the game in a handful of seconds.
+Hillman's was no longer the besieged, fighting in her last trench to
+stave off defeat, but stood now on the threshold of victory, herself the
+besieger!
+
+Farview called for time. Two substitutes came in to strengthen her line.
+Hop, evidently no worse for his effort, was on his feet again, thumping
+his players on the backs, imploring, entreating, and confident. On the
+seventeen yards lay the brown oval, almost in front of the right-hand
+goal-post. A field goal would put the home team one point to the good,
+and, with only a few minutes left to play, win the game almost beyond a
+doubt, and none on the Blue's side of the field doubted that a try at
+goal would follow. Even when the first play came from ordinary formation
+and Deering smashed into the left of Farview's line for a scant yard,
+the audience was not fooled. Of course, it was wise to gain what ground
+they might with three downs to waste, for there was always the chance
+that a runner might get free and that luck would bring a touch-down
+instead.
+
+Yet again Hop signaled a line attack. This time it was Mason who carried
+the ball, and he squirmed through for two yards outside left tackle,
+edging the pigskin nearer the center of the goal. Then came a shout that
+started near the Blue team's bench and traveled right along the stand. A
+slight youngster was pulling off his sweater in front of the bench, a
+boy with red-brown hair and a pale, set face. Then he had covered the
+red-brown hair with a leather helmet and was trotting into the field
+with upraised hand.
+
+Ned stared and stared. Then he closed his eyes for an instant, opened
+them, and stared again. After that he pinched himself hard to make
+certain that he was awake and not still dreaming on the knoll beside the
+road. The substitute was speaking to the referee now, and Deering was
+walking away from the group in the direction of the bench. The cheering
+began, the leaders waving their arms in unison along the length of the
+Hillman's stand:
+
+"'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Deering!"
+
+And then again, a second later: "'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah!
+'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Turner!"
+
+Ned turned imploringly to the tall policeman. "What--who was that last
+fellow they cheered?" he faltered.
+
+The policeman looked down impatiently.
+
+"Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI--THE UNDERSTUDY
+
+
+"_Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!_" chanted Farview
+imploringly, from across the trampled field.
+
+Yet above the hoarse entreaty came Hop Kendrick's confident voice: "All
+right, Hillman's! Make it go! Here's where we win it! Kick formation!
+Turner back!" And then: "25--78--26--194! 12--31--9--"
+
+But it was Hop himself who dashed straight forward and squirmed ahead
+over one white line before the whistle blew.
+
+"Fourth down!" called the referee. "About four and a half!"
+
+"Come on!" cried Hop. "Make it go this time! Hard, fellows, hard! We've
+got 'em going!" He threw an arm over the shoulder of the new substitute.
+Those near by saw the latter shake his head, saw Hop draw back and stare
+as if aghast at the insubordination. Farview protested to the referee
+against the delay, and the latter called warningly. Hop nodded, and
+raised his voice again:
+
+"Kick formation! Turner back!"
+
+Then he walked back to where the substitute stood and dropped to his
+knees.
+
+"Place-kick!" grunted a man at Ned's elbow. "Can't miss it from there if
+the line holds!"
+
+Ned, in a perfect agony of suspense, waited. Hop was calling his
+signals. There was a pause. Then: "16--32--7--"
+
+Back came the ball on a long pass from Kewpie. It was high, but Hop got
+it, pulled it down, and pointed it. Ned saw the kicker step forward.
+Then he closed his eyes.
+
+There was a wild outburst from all around him, and he opened them again.
+The ball was not in sight, but a frantic little man in a gray sweater
+was waving his arms like a semaphore behind the farther goal. Along the
+space between stand and side-line a quartette of youths leaped crazily,
+flourishing great blue megaphones or throwing them in air. Above the
+stand blue banners waved and caps tossed about. On the scoreboard at the
+far end of the field the legend read: "Hillman's 10--Visitors 9."
+
+A moment later, a boy with a wide grin on his tired face and nerves that
+were still jangling made his way along Summit Street in the direction of
+school. Behind him the cheers and shouts still broke forth at intervals,
+for there yet remained some three minutes of playing time. Once, in the
+sudden stillness between cheers, he heard plainly the hollow thump of a
+punted ball. More shouts then, indeterminate, dying away suddenly. The
+boy walked quickly, for he had a reason for wanting to gain the security
+of his room before the crowd flowed back from the field. At last, at the
+school gate, he paused and looked back and listened. From the distant
+scene of battle came a faint surge of sound that rose and fell and rose
+again and went on unceasingly as long as he could hear.
+
+Back in Number 16, Ned threw his cap aside and dropped into the nearest
+chair. There was much that he understood, yet much more that was still a
+mystery to him. One thing, however, he dared hope, and that was that the
+disgrace of having failed his fellows had passed him miraculously by! As
+to the rest, he pondered and speculated vainly. He felt horribly limp
+and weary while he waited for Laurie to come. And after a while he heard
+cheering, and arose and went to a window. There could no longer be any
+doubt as to the final outcome of the game. Between the sidewalk throngs,
+dancing from side to side of the street with linked arms, came
+Hillman's, triumphant!
+
+[Illustration: "Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em."]
+
+And here and there, borne on the shoulders of joyous comrades, bobbed a
+captured player. There were more than a dozen of them, some taking the
+proceeding philosophically, others squirming and fighting for freedom.
+Now and then one succeeded in getting free, but recapture was invariably
+his fate. At least, this was true with a single exception while Ned
+watched. The exception was a boy with red-brown hair, who, having
+managed to slip from his enthusiastic friends, dashed through the throng
+on the sidewalk, leaped a fence, cut across a corner, and presently sped
+through the gate on Washington Street, pursuit defeated. A minute later,
+flushed and breathless, he flung open the door of Number 16.
+
+At sight of Ned, Laurie's expression of joyous satisfaction faded. He
+halted inside the door and closed it slowly behind him. At last,
+"Hello," he said, listlessly.
+
+"Hello," answered Ned. Then there was a long silence. Outside, in front
+of the gymnasium, they were cheering the victorious team, player by
+player. At last, "We won, didn't we?" asked Ned.
+
+Laurie nodded as if the thing were a matter of total indifference. He
+still wore football togs, and he frowningly viewed a great hole in one
+blue stocking as he seated himself on his bed.
+
+"Well," he said, finally, "what happened to you?"
+
+Ned told him, at first haltingly, and then with more assurance as he saw
+the look of relief creep into Laurie's face. As he ended his story,
+Laurie's countenance expressed only a great and joyous amusement.
+
+"Neddie," he chuckled, "you'll be the death of me yet! You came pretty
+near to it to-day, too, partner!" He sobered as his thoughts went back
+to a moment some fifteen minutes before, and he shook his head.
+"Partner, this thing of understudying a football hero is mighty wearing.
+I'm through for all time. After this, Ned, you'll have to provide your
+own substitute! I'm done!"
+
+"How--why--how did you happen to think of it?" asked Ned, rather humbly.
+"Weren't you--scared?"
+
+"Scared? Have a heart! I was frightened to death every minute I sat on
+the bench. And then, when Mulford yelped at me, I--well, I simply passed
+away altogether! I'm at least ten years older than I was this morning,
+Neddie, and I'll bet I've got gray hairs all over my poor old head. You
+see, Murray as much as said that it was all day with you if you didn't
+show up. Kewpie was a bit down-hearted about it, too. I waited around
+until half-past one or after, thinking every moment that you'd turn
+up--hoping you would, anyhow; although, to be right honest, Neddie, I
+had a sort of hunch, after the way you acted and talked, that maybe
+you'd gone off on purpose. Anyhow, about one o'clock I got to thinking,
+and the more I thought the more I got into the notion that something had
+to be done if the honor of the Turners was to be--be upheld. And the
+only thing I could think of was putting on your togs and bluffing it
+through. Kewpie owned up that he'd been talking rot last night--that he
+didn't really think you'd be called on to-day. And I decided to take a
+chance. Of course, if I'd known what was going to happen I guess I
+wouldn't have had the courage; but I didn't know. I thought all I'd have
+to do was sit on the bench and watch.
+
+"So I went over to the gym and got your togs on, and streaked out to the
+field, I guess I looked as much like you as you do, for none of the
+fellows knew that I wasn't you. I was careful not to talk much. Mr.
+Mulford gave me thunder, and so did Murray, and Joe Stevenson looked
+pretty black. I just said I was sorry, and there wasn't much time to
+explain, anyway, because the game was starting about the time I got
+there. Once, in the third period, when Slavin was hurt, Mulford looked
+along the bench and stopped when he got to me, and I thought my time had
+come. But I guess he wanted to punish me for being late. Anyway, Boessel
+got the job. When the blow did fall, Neddie, I was sick clean through.
+My tummy sort of folded up and my spine was about as stiff as--as a
+drink of water! I wanted to run, or crawl under the bench or something.
+'You've pleased yourself so far to-day, Turner,' said Mulford. 'Now
+suppose you do something for the school. Kendrick will call for a kick.
+You see that it gets over, or I'll have something to say to you later.
+Remember this, though: not a word to any one but the referee until after
+the next play. Now get out there and _win this game!_'
+
+"Nice thing to say to a chap who'd never kicked a football in his life
+except around the street! But, gee, Neddie, what could I do? I'd started
+the thing, and I had to see it through. Of course I thought that maybe
+I'd ought to fess up that I wasn't me--or, rather, you--and let some one
+else kick. But I knew there wasn't any one else they could depend on,
+and I decided that if some one had to miss the goal, it might as well be
+me--or you. Besides, there was the honor of the Turners! So I sneaked
+out, with my heart in my boots,--your boots, I mean,--and Hop called for
+a line play, and then another one, and I thought maybe I was going to
+get off without making a fool of myself. But no such luck. 'Take all the
+time you want, Nid,' said Hop. 'We'll hold 'em for you. Drop it over,
+for the love of mud! We've got to have this game!' 'Drop it?' said I.
+'Not on your life, Hop! Make it a place-kick or I'll never have a
+chance!' 'What do you mean?' he asked. 'I mean I can't drop-kick
+to-day.' I guess something in my voice or the way I said it put him on,
+for he looked at me pretty sharp. Still, maybe he didn't guess the
+truth, either, for he let me have my way and let me kick.
+
+"After that"--Laurie half closed his eyes and shook his head
+slowly--"after that I don't really know what did happen. I have a sort
+of a hazy recollection of Hop shouting some signals that didn't mean a
+thing in my young life, and kneeling on the ground a couple of yards
+ahead of me. I didn't dare look at the goal, though I knew it was ahead
+of me and about twenty yards away. Then there was a brown streak, and
+things began to move, and I moved with them. I suppose I swung my
+foot,-probably my right one, though it may have been my left,--and then
+I closed my eyes tight and waited for some one to kill me. Next thing I
+knew, I was being killed--or I thought I thought I was, for a second. It
+turned out, though, that the fellows weren't really killing me; they
+were just beating me black and blue to show they were pleased.
+
+"Of course, it was all the biggest piece of luck that ever happened,
+Ned. Hop aimed the ball just right, and somehow or other I managed to
+kick it. Maybe any one would have done just as well, because I guess it
+was an easy goal. Anyway, the honor of the Turners was safe!"
+
+"You're a regular brick," said Ned, a bit huskily. "What--what happened
+afterward? I didn't stay."
+
+"Afterward Hop looked at me kind of queer and said, 'I guess that'll do
+for you, Turner,' and I beat it away from there as fast as I knew how,
+and Mulford sent in some other poor unfortunate. There were only half a
+dozen plays after that, and we kicked whenever we got the ball."
+
+"Do you think any one but Hop found out?" asked Ned, anxiously.
+
+"Not a one. And I'm not sure, mind you, that Hop did. You see, he didn't
+_say_ anything. Only, he did call me 'Nid' at first, and then 'Turner'
+the next time. I haven't seen him since. I guess I never will know,
+unless I ask him. One thing's sure, though, Ned, and that is that Hop
+won't talk."
+
+"You don't think I'd ought to fess up?" asked Ned.
+
+"I do not," replied Laurie stoutly. "What's the good? It wasn't your
+fault if you went to sleep out in the country. If any one's to blame,
+it's me. I oughtn't to have hoaxed them. No, sir; if Mulford or any one
+says anything, just you tell them you fell asleep and couldn't help
+getting there late. But I don't believe any one will ask questions now.
+They're all too pleased and excited. But, gee, Neddie! I certainly am
+glad I made that goal instead of missing it. I'd be a pretty mean
+feeling pup to-night if I hadn't!"
+
+"It was wonderful," mused Ned. "You putting it over, I mean. With all
+that crowd looking on, and Farview shouting--"
+
+"Shouting? I didn't hear them. I didn't know whether there was any one
+around just then! I had troubles of my own, partner! Know something?
+Well, I think there's the chap who kicked that goal." Laurie raised his
+right foot and displayed one of Ned's scuffed football shoes. "I guess I
+just sort of left things to him and he did the business. Good old Mister
+Shoe!"
+
+Ned jumped to his feet and pulled Laurie from the bed. "For the love of
+lemons," he cried, "get those togs off before any one comes in!"
+
+"Gee, that's so!" Laurie worked feverishly, while Ned stumbled over a
+chair and turned the key in the lock.
+
+"A fine pair of idiots we are!" exclaimed Ned, as he ripped Laurie's
+shirt off for him. "Suppose Hop or Kewpie had come in while we were
+sitting here!"
+
+Hillman's spent the rest of the evening in celebration. In the
+dining-hall the appearance of any member of the squad was the signal for
+hand-clapping and cheers, and when Ned entered, followed by Laurie, the
+applause was deafening. Ned showed himself to be a very modest and
+retiring hero, for he fairly scuttled to his seat, and kept his head
+bent over his plate long after the applause had died away. Then,
+stealing an unhappy glance at Laurie, he found that youth grinning
+broadly, and was the recipient of a most meaningful wink. After supper,
+in the corridor, the twins ran squarely into Hop Kendrick. Ned tried to
+pull aside, but Laurie stood his ground. Hop was plainly a very happy
+youth to-night, although even when happiest he never entirely lost his
+look of earnest gravity.
+
+"Well, we did it, Nid!" he said joyfully, clapping that youth on the
+shoulder. "That was a corking kick of yours, son!"
+
+Ned stammered something utterly unintelligible, but Laurie came to the
+rescue: "Ned says it was the way you pointed the ball that won that
+goal, Hop," he said casually. "He's mighty modest about it."
+
+Hop shot a quick glance at the speaker, and Ned declared afterward that
+there was a smile behind it. But all he said was: "Oh, well, pointing
+isn't everything, Nod. _Some one's_ got to kick it!"
+
+When he had gone on, Ned and Laurie viewed each other questioningly.
+"Think he knows?" asked Ned. Laurie shook his head frowningly. "You've
+got me, partner!" he answered.
+
+And, because neither asked Hop Kendrick outright, neither ever did know!
+
+There were songs and speeches and a general jollification after supper,
+ending in a parade of cheering, singing youths who marched through the
+town from end to end, and at last drew up outside Doctor Hillman's porch
+and shouted until that gentleman appeared and responded. The Doctor's
+words were few, but they hit the spot, and when there had been another
+long cheer for him, and another long cheer for the team, and a final
+mighty cheer for the school, the happy boys called it a day and sought
+the dormitories.
+
+Ned was just dropping off to sleep that night when Laurie's voice
+reached him through the darkness.
+
+"Ned!" called Laurie.
+
+"Huh?"
+
+"Are you awake?"
+
+"Uh-huh."
+
+"Listen. It's a fortunate thing to be a twin."
+
+There was a long moment of silence. Then Ned's voice came sleepily:
+
+"'Cause if one twin can't the other twin kin!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII--THE BOYS MAKE A PRESENT
+
+
+The week or so succeeding the Farview game seemed like an anticlimax.
+The bottom had sort of dropped out of things and there was no immediate
+excitement to look forward to. The weather became as miserable as
+weather possibly could, the slight snowfall that followed the rain of
+Thanksgiving Day lasting only long enough to be seen by the early
+risers. Perhaps it was well that lack of events and inclement weather
+ruled, for Ned and a good many other boys in school were no worse for an
+opportunity to apply themselves undisturbedly to their studies.
+Basketball candidates were called the first Monday in December, and the
+twins held a serious conference on the question of reporting. Ned, who
+felt rather flat since there was no more football, was half inclined to
+go in for the game, and would have had Laurie insisted. But Laurie voted
+that for the present the Turners had done sufficient in the athletic
+line, that the honor of the family demanded no further sacrifices on the
+altar of duty. So Ned abandoned the idea and talked of trying for the
+crew in the spring.
+
+When December was a week old, the fellows set their gaze on the
+Christmas recess, which this year began on Wednesday, three days before
+Christmas, and lasted until the 2d of January. Eleven days are not
+sufficient to make a trip across the continent and back advisable,
+although the twins figured that, with the best of fortune, they would be
+able to reach Santa Lucia in time for dinner Christmas night. On the
+other hand, the missing of one connection would delay their arrival
+until the following afternoon, and, as Laurie pointed out, they were
+fairly certain to be held up somewhere on the way, and a sleeping-car
+wasn't exactly an ideal place in which to spend the holiday! Besides,
+there was a noticeable lack of encouragement from home. It had been
+accepted beforehand that the boys were to remain at the school during
+the recess, and nothing in Mr. Turner's fortnightly letters hinted that
+he had changed his mind.
+
+"I'd just as lief stay here, anyway," declared Ned. "We can have a lot
+more fun. Maybe there'll be a bunch of snow, and I'm dying to try
+skiing."
+
+"You bet! And skating, too! And then there's that other scheme. Mustn't
+forget that, Neddie."
+
+"You mean--"
+
+"Yes. Didn't you say we'd do it during vacation?"
+
+"Sure! It--it'll take quite a lot of money, though, Laurie. And we'll
+have presents to buy for Dad and Aunt Emmie and the cousins--"
+
+"The cousins get Christmas cards, and that's all they do get,"
+interrupted Laurie, decisively. "That's all they ever give us, and I'd
+rather spend my money on something that'll really--really benefit some
+one. I guess Dad'll send us some more money, too, for Christmas. We can
+do it, all right. I've got nearly seven dollars right now. I haven't
+spent hardly any money this month."
+
+"All right. Some day soon we'll go downtown and find out how much it's
+going to cost and what we'll need and everything. I say, we can get Bob
+to help us, too!"
+
+"Rather! And three or four other fellows, I guess. Every one likes the
+Widow, and George says there will be five or six fellows here during
+recess. He was here last year, and he says he had a dandy time."
+
+"Let's get George this afternoon and get the thing started. We can find
+out the--the area and ask the man how much we'll need."
+
+"Sure! And we can buy it and store it at Bob's. Then all we'll have to
+do will be carry it over the fence. I'll go down and see if I can find
+him. Look here, Neddie. Why don't we do it before Christmas and make it
+a sort of Christmas present? Say we worked hard all day Thursday and
+Friday--"
+
+"Great! Only if it snowed--"
+
+Laurie's face fell. "Gee, that's so! I suppose we couldn't do it if it
+snowed. Or rained. Or if it was frightfully cold."
+
+"They say it doesn't get real cold here until after New Year's," said
+Ned, reassuringly. "But of course it might snow or rain. Well, we'll do
+it in time for Christmas if we can. If we can't, we'll do it for New
+Year's. I'll bet she'll be tickled to death. I say, though! We never
+found out about the color!"
+
+"I did," answered Laurie modestly. "I asked Polly. She said white."
+
+"White! Geewhillikins, Laurie, that makes it harder, doesn't it? We'd
+have to put on two coats!"
+
+"Think so?" Laurie frowned. "I guess we would. That would take twice as
+long, eh? Look here; maybe--maybe I can get Polly to change her mind!"
+
+"That's likely, you chump!" Ned scowled thoughtfully. Finally, "I tell
+you what," he said. "Suppose we went around there sometime, and talked
+with Mrs. Deane, and told her how nice we think blue looks and how sort
+of--of distinctive! Gee, it wouldn't be any trick at all to make it
+blue; but white--" He shook his head despondently.
+
+"Cheer up!" said Laurie. "I've got the dope, partner! Listen. We'll tell
+them that it ought to be blue because blue's the school color and all
+that. Mrs. Deane thinks a heap of Hillman's, and she'll fall for it as
+sure as shooting. So'll Polly! Come on! Let's find George and get the
+thing started!"
+
+"Better get Bob to go with us, too. He said something about wanting to
+pay his share of it, so we'd better let him in right from the start.
+After all, we don't want to hog it, Laurie!"
+
+A fortnight later the exodus came. Of the four-score lads who lived at
+Hillman's, all but eight took their departure that Wednesday morning,
+and Ned and Laurie and George watched the last group drive off for the
+station with feelings of genuine satisfaction. Life at school during the
+eleven days of recess promised to be busy and enjoyable, and they were
+eager to see the decks cleared, so to speak, and to start the new way of
+living. Ned and Laurie had had plenty of invitations for Christmas week.
+Both Kewpie and Lee Murdock had earnestly desired their society at their
+respective homes, and there had been others less insistent but possibly
+quite as cordial invitations. But neither one had weakened. George half
+promised one of the boys to visit him for a few days after Christmas,
+but later he canceled his acceptance.
+
+Besides George and the twins, there remained at school five other
+fellows who, because they lived at a distance and railway fares were
+high, or for other reasons, found it expedient to accept Doctor
+Hillman's hospitality. None of the five, two juniors, one lower middler,
+and two upper middlers, were known to the twins more than casually when
+recess began; but eating together three times a day and being thrown in
+one another's society at other times soon made the acquaintance much
+closer, and all proved to be decent, likable chaps.
+
+Meals were served at a corner table in West Hall, and during recess
+there were seldom fewer than three of the faculty present. That may
+sound depressing, but in vacation-time an instructor becomes quite a
+human, jovial person, and the scant dozen around the table enjoyed
+themselves hugely. In the evening Doctor Hillman held open house, and
+Miss Tabitha showed a genius for providing methods of entertainment.
+Sometimes they popped corn in the fireplace in the cozy living-room,
+sometimes they roasted apples. Once it was chestnuts that jumped on the
+hearth. Then, too, Miss Tabitha was a past mistress in the art of making
+fudge, and on two occasions Mr. Barrett, the mathematics instructor,
+displayed such a sweet tooth that the boys lost the last of their awe
+and "ragged" him without mercy. Several times the Doctor read aloud,
+choosing, to the boys' surprise, a corking detective novel that had them
+squirming on the edges of their chairs. Toward the last of the vacation,
+Laurie confided to Ned and George that he wished recess was just
+beginning.
+
+To Ned's and Laurie's great disappointment, neither snow nor ice
+appeared and the weather remained merely briskly cold, with sometimes a
+day like Indian summer. But I am getting ahead of my story, which really
+comes to an end on Christmas Day.
+
+More than a week before the closing of school, the four conspirators had
+finished their preparations for the task that was to provide the Widow
+Deane with a novel Christmas present. In Bob's cellar were many cans
+containing blue paint, white paint, linseed oil, and turpentine. There
+were brushes there, too, and a scraper, and a roll of cotton rags
+provided by Polly. For, in the end, it had become necessary to acquaint
+Polly with the project. Against Bob's back fence reposed all the
+ladders, of varying lengths, that the neighborhood afforded. Wednesday
+evening Ned and Laurie and George herded the other boys into George's
+room, and explained the scheme and asked for volunteers. They got five
+most enthusiastic ones.
+
+Nine o'clock the next morning was set as the time for the beginning of
+the work, and at that hour nine rather disreputably-attired youths
+appeared in Mrs. Deane's yard, arriving by way of the back fence, and
+began their assault. The first the Widow knew of what was happening was
+when, being then occupied with the task of tidying up the sleeping-room
+on the second floor, she was startled to see the head and shoulders of a
+boy appear outside her window. Her exclamation of alarm gave place to
+murmurs of bewilderment as the supposed burglar contented himself with
+lifting the two shutters from their hinges and passing them down the
+ladder to some unseen accomplice. Mrs. Deane looked forth. In the garden
+was what at first glimpse looked like a convention of tramps. They were
+armed with ladders and brushes and pots of paint, and they were already
+very busy. Across two trestles set on the grass plot, the stolen
+shutters were laid as fast as they were taken down. One boy, flourishing
+a broad-bladed implement, scraped the rough surfaces. A second plied a
+big round brush, dusting diligently. Numbers three and four, as soon as
+the first two operatives retired, attacked with brushes dripping with
+white paint. In almost no time at all the first shutter was off the
+trestles and leaning, fresh and spotless, against the fence. Every
+instant another shutter appeared. Mrs. Deane gazed in fascinated
+amazement. One after another, she recognized the miscreants: the two
+Turner boys, George Watson, Mr. Starling's son, Hal Goring, the Stanton
+boy, and the rest; but, although recognition brought reassurance,
+bewilderment remained, and she hurried downstairs as fast as ever she
+could go.
+
+Polly was on the back porch, a very disturbed and somewhat indignant
+Towser in her arms, evidently a party to the undertaking, and to her
+Mrs. Deane breathlessly appealed.
+
+"Polly! What are they doing?" she gasped.
+
+"You'll have to ask the boys, Mama." Polly's eyes were dancing. "Nid,
+here's Mama, and she wants to know what you're doing!"
+
+Nid hurried up, a dripping brush in one hand and a smear of white paint
+across one cheek, followed by Laurie. The others paused at their various
+tasks to watch smilingly.
+
+"Painting the house, Mrs. Deane!"
+
+"Painting the house! My house? Why--why--what--who--"
+
+"Yes'm. There's the blue paint. It's as near like the old as we could
+find. You don't think it's too dark, do you?"
+
+"But I don't understand, Nid Turner!" said Mrs. Deane helplessly. "Who
+told you to? Who's going to pay for it?"
+
+"It's all paid for, ma'am. It--it's a sort of Christmas present from
+us--from the school. You--you don't mind, do you?"
+
+"Well, I never did!" Mrs. Deane looked from Ned to Laurie, her mouth
+quivering. "I--I don't know what to say. I guess I'll--I'll go see if
+any one's--in the shop, Polly. Did you think you--heard the bell?" Mrs.
+Deane's eyes were frankly wet as she turned hurriedly away and
+disappeared inside. Ned viewed Polly anxiously.
+
+"Do you think she--doesn't like it?" he half whispered.
+
+Polly shook her head and laughed softly, although her own eyes were not
+quite dry. "Of course she likes it, you stupid boy! She just didn't know
+what to say. She'll be back pretty soon, after she's had a little cry."
+
+"Oh!" said Ned and Laurie in chorus, their faces brightening; and Laurie
+added apologetically: "Gee, we didn't want to make her cry, Polly!"
+
+"That sort of a cry doesn't hurt," said Polly.
+
+Afterward Mrs. Deane said a great deal, and said it very sweetly, and
+the boys got more or less embarrassed, and were heartily glad when she
+drew Ned to her and kissed him, much to that youth's distress, and the
+incident ended in laughter. By noon the shutters were done, and nine
+industrious amateur painters were swarming over the back of the little
+house. I'm not going to tell you that the job was done as perfectly as
+Sprague and Currie, Painters and Paper-hangers, would have done it, but
+you're to believe that it was done much quicker and at a far greater
+saving of money! And when it was finished no one except a professional
+would ever have known the difference. Perhaps there was more blue and
+white paint scattered around the landscape than was absolutely
+necessary, and it always remained a mystery how Antoinette managed to
+get her right ear looking like a bit of Italian sky, for every one
+professed ignorance and Antoinette was apparently well protected from
+spatters. (It took Polly more than a week to restore the rabbit to her
+original appearance.)
+
+When the early winter twilight fell and it became necessary to knock off
+work for the day, the blue painting was more than half done and, unless
+weather prevented, it was certain that the entire task would be finished
+by to-morrow evening. Mrs. Deane served five-o'clock tea,--only it
+happened to be four-o'clock tea instead,--and nine very, very hungry
+lads did full justice to the repast, and the little room behind the
+store held a merry party. Perhaps the prevailing odor of paint detracted
+somewhat from Mrs. Deane's and Polly's enjoyment of the refreshments,
+but you may be certain they made no mention of the fact.
+
+That night the boys viewed the cloudy sky apprehensively. Laurie, who
+knew little about it, declared dubiously that it smelt like snow. But
+when morning came, although the cloudiness persisted most of the day,
+the weather remained kindly, with just enough frost in the air to chill
+feet and nip idle fingers and to give an added zest to labor. Very
+little time was wasted on luncheon, and at two o'clock the last slap of
+blue paint had been applied and the more difficult work of doing the
+white trim began. Fortunately, there were only eleven windows and two
+doors, and although "drawing" the sashes was slow and finicking work,
+with nine willing hands hard at it the end came shortly after dusk,
+when, watched by eight impatient companions, young Haskell, one of the
+junior class boys, with trembling fingers drew his brush along the last
+few inches of a front window, and then, because he was quite keyed up
+and because it was much too dark to see well, celebrated the culmination
+of his efforts by putting a foot squarely into a can of white paint!
+
+When first-aid methods had been applied, he was allowed, on promise to
+put only one foot to the floor, to accompany the rest inside and
+announce to a delighted and slightly tremulous Mrs. Deane that the work
+was completed. There was a real celebration then, with more piping-hot
+tea and lots of perfectly scrumptious cream-puffs,--besides less
+enticing bread-and-butter sandwiches,--and Mrs. Deane tried hard to
+thank the boys and couldn't quite do it, and Polly failed almost as
+dismally, and Laurie made a wonderful speech that no one understood very
+well, except for the general meaning, and nine flushed and very happy
+youths cheered long and loudly for Mrs. Deane, and finally departed
+merrily into the winter twilight, calling back many a "Merry Christmas"
+as they went.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII--THE SECRET PASSAGE
+
+
+Christmas Day dawned clear and mild, a green Christmas if ever there was
+one. And yet, in spite of the absence of such traditional accompaniments
+as snow and ice, the spirit of the season was there in abundance. Ned
+and Laurie, wakening early to the sound of church bells, felt Christmasy
+right from the first conscious moment. When they hastened down the hall
+for their baths, they could hear George and Hal Goring on the floor
+below uniting in what they fondly believed was song. Later, at
+breakfast, beside a perfectly wonderful repast in which chicken and
+little crisp sausages and hot, crisp waffles played leading rôles, the
+Doctor and Miss Tabitha had placed at each plate a Christmas card tied
+by a tiny blue ribbon to a diminutive painter's brush! Later on there
+was to be a tree in the Doctor's living-room. In fact, the tree was
+already there, and the boys had spent much of the preceding evening
+trimming it and placing around its base inexpensive gifts of a joking
+nature for one another and the Doctor and Miss Tabitha and the two
+instructors who were there.
+
+Laurie and Ned had exchanged presents with each other and had received
+several from home, not the least welcome of which was a check from their
+father. And they had bought small gifts for George and Bob. Also, though
+you needn't tell it around school, Laurie had purchased a most
+odoriferous and ornate bottle of perfume for Polly! So when, shortly
+after breakfast, Ned suggested that Laurie take Bob's present over to
+him, Laurie evinced entire willingness to perform the errand. That he
+carried not one gift but two in his pockets was, however, beyond Ned's
+knowledge. A cheerful whistling from the back of the house drew Laurie
+past the front entrance, and he found Bob, attired in any but festal
+garments, swinging open the bulkhead doors. A pair of old gray trousers
+and a disreputable brown sweater formed most of his costume. At sight of
+Laurie he gave a joyful whoop.
+
+"Merry Christmas!" he called. "I was going over to see you in a minute.
+Thomas is in bed with a cold or something, and I'm furnace-man and
+general factotle--"
+
+"Factotum, you mean," laughed Laurie.
+
+"All right! As you fellows say, what do I care? I don't own it. Now
+you're here, you can just give me a hand with this load of junk. Dad
+says it doesn't look shipshape for Christmas." Bob indicated more than a
+dozen paint-cans, empty, partly empty, or unopened, and a mess of
+brushes, paddles, and rags that they had set there last evening. "I
+suppose a lot of these might as well be thrown away, but we'll dump the
+whole caboodle down in the cellar for now."
+
+"All right," agreed Laurie. "First, though, here's something that Ned
+and I thought you might like. It isn't anything much, you know, Bob;
+just a--a trinket."
+
+"For me?" Bob took the little packet, and removed the paper and then the
+lid, disclosing a pair of silver cuff-links lying in a nest of
+cotton-wool. As Laurie said, they weren't much, but they were neat and
+the jeweler had made a very good job of the three plain block letters,
+R. D. S., that he had engraved on them. "Gee, they're corking!"
+exclaimed Bob, with unmistakable sincerity. "I needed them, too, Nod. I
+lost one of a pair just the other day, and--"
+
+"I know you did. That's why we got those."
+
+"Well, I'm awfully much obliged. They're great. I've got a couple of
+little things upstairs for you chaps. They aren't nearly so nice as
+these, but I'll get 'em--"
+
+"Wait till we finish this job," said Laurie. "Grab a handful and come
+on. Is Thomas very sick?"
+
+"I guess not," replied Bob, as he followed the other down the steps. "He
+ate some breakfast, but aunt thought he'd better stay in bed. I had a
+great time with the furnace this morning. Got up at half-past six and
+shoveled coal to beat the band!"
+
+"Where do you want to put these?" asked Laurie.
+
+"Anywhere, I guess. Hold on; let's dump 'em on the shelves in the closet
+there. Then they'll be out of the way. Some day we'll clean the cans all
+out, and maybe we'll get enough to paint that arbor we're going to
+build. Here you are."
+
+Bob led the way to a small room built against the rear wall of the big
+cellar. Designed for a preserve closet, its shelves had probably long
+been empty of aught save dust, and the door, wide open, hung from one
+hinge. It was some six feet broad and perhaps five feet deep, built of
+matched boards. Before Bob entered the cobwebby doorway with his load of
+cans, its only contents were an accumulation of empty preserve-jars in a
+wooden box set on the cement floor beneath a lower shelf at the back.
+There were eight shelves across the rear wall, divided in the center by
+a vertical board into two tiers. Bob placed his load on a lower shelf
+and Laurie put his on the shelf above. As he drew away he noticed that
+the shelf appeared to have worked out from the boards at the back, and
+he gave it a blow on the edge with the flat of one hand. It slipped back
+into place, but, to his surprise, it came forward again an inch or two,
+and all the other shelves in that tier came with it!
+
+"Hey!" said Laurie, startled.
+
+Bob, at the doorway, turned. "What's the matter?" he asked.
+
+"Nothing, only--" Laurie took hold of the shelf above the loosened one
+and pulled. It yielded a little, and so did the other shelves and the
+rear wall of the cubicle, but it was only a matter of less than an inch.
+Bob, at his side, looked on interestedly.
+
+"That's funny," he said. "Push on it."
+
+Laurie pushed, and the tier went back a couple of inches. "Looks like
+this side was separate from the rest," said Laurie. "What's the idea of
+having it come out like that?"
+
+"Search me!" answered Bob. "Pull it toward you again and let me have a
+look." A second later he exclaimed: "The whole side is loose, Nod, but
+it can't come out because the ends of the shelves strike this partition
+board! Try it again!" Laurie obeyed, moving the tier back and forth
+three or four times as far as it would go. Bob shook his head in
+puzzlement, his gaze roving around the dim interior. Then, "Look here,"
+he said. "The shelves on the side aren't on a level with the back ones,
+Nod."
+
+"What of it?"
+
+"Nothing, maybe; only, if the back swung out the side shelves wouldn't
+stop it! See what I mean?"
+
+"Not exactly. Anyhow, it doesn't swing out, so what's the--"
+
+"Hold on!" Bob sprang forward and seized the edge of a shelf in the
+right-hand tier close to the partition board, and pulled. It readily
+yielded an inch, but no more.
+
+"Wait!" Laurie bent and pulled aside the box of jars. "Now!"
+
+Then, as Bob tugged, to their amazement the right-hand tier swung toward
+them, its lower edge scraping on the cement floor, and the left-hand
+tier swung with it, the whole back wall of the closet, shelves and all,
+opening toward them like a pair of double doors!
+
+"Gee!" whispered Laurie. "What do you suppose--"
+
+"Pull them wide open and let's find out," said Bob recklessly.
+
+When the two sides were open as far as they would go, there was an
+aperture between them some three feet wide. Beyond it was darkness,
+though, as they gazed, the stones of the cellar wall took shape dimly.
+Then Laurie seized Bob's arm.
+
+"Look!" he whispered excitedly. Behind, where the left-hand tier of
+shelves had stood, was a blacker patch about three feet high by two feet
+wide, which, as they stared in fascination, evolved itself into an
+opening in the wall.
+
+"Know what I think?" asked Bob, in low tones. "I think we've found the
+miser's hiding-place, Nod!"
+
+"Honest? Maybe it's just a--a drain or something. Got a match?"
+
+"There are some over by the furnace. Hold your horses!" Bob hurried out,
+and was back in a moment and was standing at the opening between the
+doors with a lighted match held toward the opening in the wall. As the
+little light grew they saw that the stones of the wall had been removed
+from a space of a foot above the floor and three feet high and some two
+feet wide. Around the opening so made cement had been applied in the
+form of a smooth casing.
+
+The match flickered and went out, and in the succeeding gloom the two
+boys stared at each other with wide eyes.
+
+"Would you dare go in there?" asked Laurie.
+
+"Sure! Why not? It can't be anything but a sort of cave underground.
+Wait till I get a candle."
+
+"A lantern would be better," suggested Laurie, viewing the hole
+dubiously.
+
+"That's so, and there's one here somewhere. I noticed it the other day."
+Bob's voice came from the cellar beyond, and Laurie heard him walking
+around out there. Then, "I've got it!" Bob called. "There's oil in it,
+too! Now we'll have a look!"
+
+Laurie heard the chimney of the lantern squeak as it was forced up and
+then drop into place again. Then a wan light came toward the closet, and
+Bob appeared, triumphant and excited. "Wait till I turn it up a bit.
+There we are! Come on!"
+
+They passed through between the doors, Bob leading, and stooped before
+the hole in the wall. Bob held the lantern inside, and Laurie peered
+over his shoulder. "Gee, it's high," whispered the latter.
+
+"Yes, and it isn't a cave at all; it's a tunnel!" said Bob, in awed
+tones. "What do you say?"
+
+"I'll go, if you will," replied Laurie, stoutly; and without much
+enthusiasm Bob ducked his head and crawled through. Past the two-foot
+wall was a passage, more than head-high and about a yard in width, stone
+walled and arched, that led straight ahead farther than the light of the
+lantern penetrated. The walls were dry, but the earthen floor was damp
+to the touch. There was a musty odor, though the air in there seemed
+fresh.
+
+"Where do you suppose it goes to?" asked Bob, in a hushed voice.
+
+"I can't imagine. But it runs straight back from the cellar, and so it
+must pass under the garden. Let's--let's go on, Bob."
+
+"Sure! Only I thought we were going to find old Coventry's treasure!"
+
+"How do you know we aren't?" asked Laurie.
+
+"That's so! Maybe he buried it under the garden." Their footfalls
+sounded clearly on the hard-packed earth floor as they went ahead.
+Suddenly Bob, in the lead, uttered an exclamation, and Laurie jumped a
+foot and then hurried forward to where the other was standing. Beside
+him, its point buried in the floor of the tunnel, was the lost crowbar!
+
+"What do you know?" gasped Bob. "We're under the farther end of the
+arbor. That bar came through between those stones up here." He touch the
+crevice in the arched roof with a finger. "See the dirt it brought down
+with it? Well, that explains that mystery!"
+
+"Yes, but--where does this thing go to, Bob?"
+
+"Let's find out. It can't go much farther, because the arbor was only
+about forty feet from the back fence."
+
+But they went that forty feet and perhaps forty more before the wavering
+light of the lantern showed them a stout wooden door across their path.
+Formed of two-inch planking and strengthened with three broad cleats, it
+was hinged to a frame of concrete. It wasn't a big door, but it looked
+very formidable to the two boys who stood there and viewed it dubiously
+in the yellow glare of the lantern; for a big square iron lock held it
+firmly in place.
+
+"Guess we don't go any farther," said Bob, dryly.
+
+"Maybe the key's here somewhere," Laurie suggested; and, although Bob
+scoffed at the suggestion, they searched thoroughly but without success.
+
+"We could bust it," Bob said; "only maybe we haven't any right to."
+
+"I don't see why not, Bob. We discovered it. Let's!"
+
+"We-ell, but one of us'll have to go for a hammer or something."
+
+"Sure; I'll go."
+
+"And leave me here in the dark? I guess not!"
+
+"We'll both go, then. Hold on! What's the matter with the crowbar?"
+
+"Of course! I never thought of that! I'll fetch it!" The light receded
+down the tunnel until it was small and dim, and Laurie, left alone in
+front of the mysterious portal, felt none too happy. Of course there was
+nothing to be afraid of, but he was awfully glad when the light drew
+nearer again and Bob returned. "You hold this," directed Bob, "and I'll
+give it a couple of whacks."
+
+Laurie took the lantern, and Bob brought the bar down smartly on the
+lock. Probably it was old and rusty, for it broke into pieces under the
+blow, and in another instant they had thrust the heavy bolt back. Then
+Bob took a long breath and pulled the door toward them. The hinges
+squeaked loudly, startlingly, in the silence. Before them lay darkness,
+and Laurie, leaning past the doorway, raised the lantern high.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV--A MERRY CHRISTMAS
+
+
+"Guess Laurie got lost," grumbled Ned, kicking one foot against the step
+and looking across the yard.
+
+George laughed. "Guess you could find him if you went as far as the
+Widow's, Nid."
+
+"Well, he ought to be back. It's nearly time for the tree, isn't it?"
+Characteristically, Ned saved himself the trouble of determining the
+matter for himself, and it was George who looked at his watch.
+
+"There's 'most an hour yet. Let's go and have a look for him. He and Bob
+are probably at Polly's."
+
+But they didn't get as far as Polly's just then, for when they reached
+the corner they descried Laurie tearing along the side yard of the
+Coventry place. At sight of them he moderated his speed slightly and
+began to shout, waving both hands in a quite demented manner.
+
+"What's he saying?" asked George. "What's wrong?"
+
+"Wants us to hurry," grumbled Ned. "We are hurrying, you idiot!" he
+continued, raising his voice. But he hurried faster, George at his
+heels, and met Laurie at the front gate.
+
+"What's your trouble?" he demanded. "House on fire? Bob got the croup?
+What is it? Can't you talk?"
+
+"Can't tell you," panted Laurie. "You've got to see--for yourself! Come
+on!"
+
+He seized Ned by one arm, and pulled him away and around the house and
+down the bulkhead steps, George loping after them. In the cellar stood
+Bob, disreputable in his old clothes and adorned with dust and cobwebs,
+a lighted lantern in one hand.
+
+"Has he told you?" he cried, as the others piled down the stairs.
+
+"Told me? He hasn't told anything," gasped Ned, shaking himself free at
+last. "What is it?"
+
+Bob laughed loudly and gleefully. "Then come on!" he shouted. He dashed
+into the preserve closet, Ned, George, and Laurie at his heels, passed
+from sight for an instant, and was seen again crawling through a hole in
+the wall. Ned and George showered questions as they pattered along the
+tunnel, but all they received in reply was insane laughter and a
+meaningless, breathless jumble of words. And then they were at the
+farther portal, and Bob led the way through, and they followed.
+
+They found themselves in a small cellar-like compartment scarcely four
+paces square. It was windowless, although, close to the raftered ceiling
+in the rear wall, two oblongs of brick set in the stone showed where at
+some time small windows had been. The floor was paved with flat stones.
+In one corner, the only objects there, were a small iron chest, its lid
+swung open and back, and a crowbar. The newcomers stared in amazement,
+the truth slowly dawning on them. It was Laurie who spoke first.
+
+"Go and look!" he said excitedly.
+
+Ned and George obeyed. Within the chest lay four fat, heavy brownish
+envelopes, bound and tied with pink tape.
+
+"Take one out and open it," said Bob over Ned's shoulder.
+
+Ned picked up one. Across one end was written in scrawly characters the
+inscription "Gov't."
+
+"'Government,'" explained Laurie, softly. "It's full of United States
+bonds. Nearly a dozen of them. Have a look."
+
+"Geewhillikins!" breathed Ned, in awe, as he drew the folded contents
+into the light. "Old Coventry's, do you mean?"
+
+"Of course! Whose else? And there are three more lots. We haven't
+figured them up yet, but there must be fifty thousand dollars' worth!"
+
+"Maybe they're no good," offered George.
+
+"How do you mean, no good?" asked Ned indignantly. "United States bonds
+are always good!"
+
+"Well, the others--"
+
+"They're railroad bonds, all of them, three different lots," said Bob.
+"I guess they're all right, too, don't you, Ned?"
+
+"Right as rain! Why, the old codger--What's that?" he asked suddenly,
+looking ceiling-ward. Laurie laughed.
+
+"That's what we wondered," he answered. "We jumped when we heard it
+first. Don't you know where you are?"
+
+Ned looked around him and shook his head.
+
+"Under the Widow Deane's house!"
+
+"Wha-at! But Polly said there wasn't any cellar!"
+
+"She doesn't know any better. Look above you. See where the stairway
+went? The old chap must have torn it away and boarded the hole up; and
+bricked up the windows, too. It must have cost him a pretty penny to do
+all this!"
+
+"What--what are you going to do with it?" asked George, pointing to the
+chest.
+
+"Why, hand it over to the lawyers, whoever they are, I suppose,"
+answered Bob. "But first of all we're going to take those bonds and dump
+them into the Widow's lap. I always said I'd hand it all over to her,
+when I found it. I never thought I would find it, but I have--or Laurie
+has, because if he hadn't noticed that the shelves were loose we never
+would--"
+
+"Besides," interrupted George, "she comes in for a share of the money.
+Come on, fellows! Let's do it now! Gee, it will be some Christmas
+present!"
+
+"Won't it? Let's each one take a package," said Laurie. "We'll leave
+everything just as it is for the lawyer folks. Come on!"
+
+"Say, fellows, there's an awfully funny smell down here," observed
+George. "Sort of--sort of sweet, like--like violets or something. Notice
+it?"
+
+"Yes, I noticed it before I got in here, though," said Ned. "Wonder what
+it is."
+
+"Oh, places like this get to smelling funny after they've been shut up
+for a while," said Bob. "And I guess this place hasn't been opened for
+two years, eh?"
+
+"Of course not; not since old Coventry died. Just the same, it's a
+mighty funny odor." And George sniffed again perplexedly. Laurie, who
+had withdrawn to the door, unconsciously placed a hand in one jacket
+pocket, where, within a crushed cardboard box, some fragments of glass
+were all that remained of Polly's present! In prying open the lid of the
+chest he had brought the end of the crowbar against that pocket, and now
+the purchase was only a memory, albeit a fragrant one.
+
+Some three minutes later four flushed-faced and very joyous youths burst
+into the Widow Deane's shop. To the jangling of the little bell in the
+back room Polly appeared, a very pretty, bright-eyed Polly this morning
+in a new Christmas dress.
+
+"Merry Christmas!" she cried. "Merry Christmas, Nid! Merry Christmas,
+Bob! Merry Christmas, George! Merry Christmas, Nod!"
+
+Perhaps Laurie should have felt hurt that his own greeting had come
+last; but he wasn't, for a glance went with it that hadn't accompanied
+the others. But, although the boys answered the greetings in chorus, it
+was apparent to Polly that they were there for another purpose than to
+wish her a Merry Christmas.
+
+"Where's your mother!" demanded Bob.
+
+"In there." Polly pointed to the back room, and without ceremony the
+four filed past and into the little living-room. Mrs. Deane was seated
+in a rocker, her spectacles pushed down on her nose, a paper across her
+knees, and her eyes fixed in smiling inquiry on the doorway.
+
+Bob led the way. On the outspread paper he laid a brown envelop. "Wish
+you a Merry Christmas, ma'am," he said.
+
+Laurie followed, deposited his envelop beside Bob's, repeated the
+greeting, and drew aside to make way for Nod and George. The Widow
+looked inquiringly from the stout envelops to the boys, smiling
+tolerantly the while. Boys were always up to pranks, and she liked them,
+boys and pranks both!
+
+"What are these?" she asked, finally, when the fourth envelop lay in her
+lap.
+
+Polly, looking over her shoulder, gasped as she read the writing on one
+of the packets, and her eyes, as round as round, looked across at
+Laurie.
+
+"_Nod! They aren't--You haven't--_"
+
+"Yes, they are!" cried Laurie. "Look and see for yourself! Open them,
+Mrs. Deane!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ten minutes later, when the first excitement had somewhat subsided,
+Polly clapped her hands.
+
+"Why," she cried, "now we know what those sounds were we used to hear,
+Mama! They were Uncle Peter down there in the cellar! They were his
+footsteps! And only a little while ago I thought I heard sounds sort of
+like them! And that must have been you boys!"
+
+"Of course," agreed Bob. "And we could hear you folks up here quite
+plainly. There goes my last hope of catching a ghost!"
+
+"How many are there to share in the money, Mrs. Deane?" asked George.
+
+"Dear me, I'm not quite sure." She looked inquiringly over her
+spectacles at Polly. "Weren't there seven, dear?"
+
+"Eight, Mama."
+
+"Well, even then it isn't so bad" said George. "One eighth of
+sixty-two-thousand--"
+
+"Seven thousand seven hundred and fifty," announced Laurie, promptly.
+"And the bonds may be worth more than we figured, ma'am!"
+
+"Well, I'm sure," answered Mrs. Deane, "seven thousand dollars is seven
+times more money than I ever expected to see! I shan't know what to do
+with it." She looked quite alarmed and helpless for a moment, but Polly
+patted her shoulder reassuringly.
+
+"You must invest it, dearest, and then you won't have to keep this place
+any longer, because when I go to work--"
+
+But, instead of vanishing, the Widow Deane's alarm increased. "Oh, I
+couldn't give up the store, Polly!" she gasped. "Why--why, what would I
+do with myself all day?"
+
+"Yes'm that's so!" declared Ned, heartily. "Gee, you couldn't do that!
+Why, we wouldn't have any place to buy cream-puffs!"
+
+"I guess I would keep on with the store," Mrs. Deane concluded, when the
+laughter had subsided. "I'm afraid I'd never be very happy if I didn't
+have you boys around. Well, it's certainly very wonderful, isn't it,
+Polly?"
+
+"It's--it's heavenly!" declared Polly. "This is just the most beautiful
+Christmas there ever was or ever will be! And I don't see how we can
+ever thank you all for finding--"
+
+"Gosh!" exclaimed Laurie. "The Doctor's tree, fellows! We'll have to
+beat it! We'll leave the bonds here until to-morrow--eh?"
+
+"But I want to see the tunnel and--and everything!" cried Polly.
+
+"That's so! We'll come over after dinner. Come on, fellows! Neddie, come
+away from those tarts!"
+
+"I was only looking," sighed Ned.
+
+Mrs. Deane and Polly went with them to the door. Down the street the
+deep-toned bell in the Congregational church was ringing, and, farther
+away, other bells were joining in a chorus of glad triumph. Mrs. Deane,
+listening, held a very happy look in her face. On the sidewalk, Ned and
+Laurie dropped behind their companions, paused, and faced the doorway.
+There was a quick exchange of glances between them, and then, bowing,
+Ned began and Laurie finished:
+
+    "A Merry Christmas and well-filled bins,"
+    "Is the hearty wish of the Turner Twins!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  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: The Turner Twins
+
+Author: Ralph Henry Barbour
+
+Illustrator: C. M. Relyea
+
+Release Date: August 26, 2011 [EBook #37209]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Through the secret door]
+
+
+
+
+                                  THE
+                              TURNER TWINS
+
+                                   BY
+                          RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
+
+           Author of "The Crimson Sweater," "Harry's Island,"
+                           "Team-Mates," etc.
+
+                             ILLUSTRATED BY
+                              C. M. RELYEA
+
+                                NEW YORK
+                            THE CENTURY CO.
+                                  1922
+
+
+
+
+                       Copyright, 1921, 1922, by
+                            The Century Co.
+
+                        PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+            CHAPTER                                      PAGE
+                  I Introduces a Pair of Shoes              3
+                 II The Girl in the White Middy            13
+                III Cakes and Ale                          28
+                 IV Kewpie Starts Something                37
+                  V In the Performance of Duty             52
+                 VI Ned is Firm                            61
+                VII High School Accepts Defeat             70
+               VIII In the Miser's House                   84
+                 IX Laurie Hears News                      98
+                  X Polly Entertains                      110
+                 XI Ned Speaks Out                        120
+                XII The Committee on Arrangements         130
+               XIII Ned Gets into the Game                141
+                XIV The Fete                              154
+                 XV Ned Has an Idea                       170
+                XVI Polly Tells a Spook Story             179
+               XVII Laurie Makes a Protest                190
+              XVIII Before the Battle                     201
+                XIX Ned is Missing                        213
+                 XX For the Honor of the Turners          223
+                XXI The Understudy                        238
+               XXII The Boys Make a Present               250
+              XXIII The Secret Passage                    262
+               XXIV A Merry Christmas                     272
+
+
+
+
+                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+Through the secret door                                     Frontispiece
+
+"Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!"                         36
+
+"But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" asked Polly  136
+
+"Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em."                   240
+
+
+
+
+THE TURNER TWINS
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I--INTRODUCES A PAIR OF HEROES
+
+
+"Jail," said the boy in the gray flannels.
+
+"School," pronounced the boy in the blue serge.
+
+"Bet you!"
+
+"No, sir, you owe me ten cents now. You didn't pay up the last time."
+
+"It's wrong to bet for money, Ned."
+
+The other set down the suitcase he was carrying and scoffed. "Yes, when
+you lose," he observed, with deep sarcasm. "That's thirty-five cents you
+owe me. You bet in Chicago that--"
+
+"That debt's outlawed. Chicago's in Michigan--"
+
+"Bet you!"
+
+"And this is New York, and so--"
+
+"Mighty good thing Dad sent you to school, Laurie. Chicago's in
+Illinois, you ignoramus."
+
+"Is it? Well, who cares?" Laurence Stenman Turner had also deposited the
+bag he was carrying on the brick sidewalk and was applying a
+lavender-bordered handkerchief to a moist brow. "Just the same, that's a
+jail."
+
+"If that's a jail, I'll eat my hat," declared the other,
+
+"It's not a school, though, and that's flat," was the prompt retort.
+
+"Huh, that was an easy one!" Edward Anderson Turner retreated to a
+flat-topped stone wall bordering a well-shaded lawn and seated himself
+with a sigh of relief. His companion followed suit. Behind them, grass
+and trees and flower beds made a pleasant setting for a square gray
+house, half hidden from the street. Overhead a horse-chestnut tree
+spread low branches across the sidewalk. The quiet village street
+ascended gently, curving as it went, empty in both directions. Somewhere
+on a neighboring thoroughfare a scissors-grinder was punctuating the
+silence with the musical _ding--dang--dong_ of bells. In a near-by tree
+a locust was making his shrill clatter. Across the way, the subject of
+contention, stood a large red-brick edifice, stone trimmed, many
+windowed, costly and unlovely. The boys viewed it silently. Then their
+glances fell to the two black suitcases on the curbing.
+
+"How far did that hombre say it was to the school?" asked Ned Turner,
+after a minute of silence.
+
+"Three quarters of a mile."
+
+"How far have we walked already?"
+
+"Mile and a half."
+
+"Consequently?"
+
+"Said hombre was a li--was unvoracious."
+
+"Un-_ver_-acious is the word, old son."
+
+"What do we care? We don't own it," replied Laurie, cheerfully. "Want to
+go on?"
+
+Ned shook his head slowly. "What time have you got?" he asked.
+
+"What time do you want?" was the flippant response.
+
+With a sigh, Ned pulled back his left sleeve and looked at his watch.
+"It's only about a quarter to twelve. We don't have to get there until
+six if we don't want to."
+
+"I know, but I couldn't sit on this wall all that time! Besides, what
+about lunch?"
+
+"I'm not very hungry," was the sad reply.
+
+"That's the trouble with having your breakfast late."
+
+"That's the trouble with eating two plates of griddle-cakes, you mean,"
+retorted Laurie. "Anyway, I'm hungry if you're not. Let's go."
+
+But he made no move, and they continued to dangle their shoes from the
+wall and gaze lazily across the shady street. The scissors-grinder's
+chime died in the distance. Farther down the street the whirring of a
+lawn-mower competed with the locust.
+
+"Upon a wall they sat them down," murmured Ned, turning a challenging
+look on his companion.
+
+"Lost in the wilds of Orstead Town," added Laurie.
+
+Ned nodded mild approval and once more silence held.
+
+Save that one was dressed in gray and the other in blue, the two boys
+were strikingly alike. Each was slim of body and round of face, with
+red-brown hair and a short, slightly impertinent nose. Ned's eyes were a
+trifle bluer than Laurie's and he had the advantage--if advantage it
+was--of some five pounds of weight. But neither of these facts was
+apparent at first glance. Faces and hands were well browned and the pair
+looked extremely healthy. They were dressed neatly, with perhaps more
+attention to detail than is usual in lads of their age, their attire
+terminating at one end in well-polished brown shoes and at the other in
+immaculate black derbies. Their age was fifteen years, three months, and
+eleven days. Which, of course, leads you to the correct conclusion that
+they were twins.
+
+"Maybe," hazarded Laurie, presently, "we've lost our way."
+
+"Don't just see how we could," Ned objected. "The old chap at the
+station said we were to keep right along up Walnut Street. This is still
+Walnut Street, isn't it?"
+
+"I suppose so." Laurie's glance strayed right and left. "Must be; I
+don't see any walnuts."
+
+"Guess the only 'nuts' are right here. Come on, let 's hit the trail
+again." Ned slid to his feet and took up his burden. "Why the dickens we
+didn't take that carriage the fellow wanted to sell us is more than I
+see."
+
+"'Cause we needed the exercise. Also, 'cause we're down to a dollar and
+fourteen cents between us--unless you 're holding out."
+
+"Well, I'm not!" replied Ned, indignantly. "I paid for the breakfasts in
+New York--"
+
+"And I paid for dinner on the diner last night--"
+
+"Who said you didn't?" They went on leisurely, and presently Ned
+continued: "Say, suppose we don't like this ranch after we get
+there--then what, old son?"
+
+Laurie considered thoughtfully. Then, "Two things we can do," he
+pronounced. "No, three. We can put up with it, change it to suit us, or
+leave it."
+
+"Leave it! Yes, we can! On a dollar and fourteen cents?"
+
+"We'll have nearly twenty more when we cash Dad's check and pay the term
+bill. Twenty dollars would take us back to New York and buy a lot of
+griddle-cakes, anyway."
+
+Laurie's voice was partly drowned by a small delivery automobile that
+dashed into sight at a corner ahead and sped by with a clamor worthy of
+a four-ton truck. The brothers looked after it interestedly. "That's the
+first sign of life we've seen," said Ned. "Say, I do wish this street
+would stop twisting this way. First thing we know, we'll be back at the
+station!"
+
+"Bet you I'd hop the first freight then. I've got a hunch that we're not
+going to care for Hillman's School."
+
+"Speak for yourself. I am. I like this town, too. It's pretty."
+
+"Oh, it's pretty enough," grumbled Laurie, "but it went to sleep about a
+century ago and hasn't waked up since. Here's somebody coming; let's ask
+where the school is."
+
+"It's just a girl."
+
+"What of it? She probably knows."
+
+The girl appeared to be of about their own age and wore a white middy
+dress with black trimming and a scarlet tie knotted below a V of
+sun-browned throat. She wore no hat and her dark hair was gathered into
+a single braid. As she drew near she gave the boys a quick glance of
+appraisal from a pair of gravely friendly brown eyes. It was Ned who
+shifted his suitcase to his left hand and raised his derby. It was
+always Ned who spoke first; after that, they alternated scrupulously.
+
+"Would you please tell us where Hillman's School is?" he asked.
+
+The girl stopped and her somewhat serious face lighted with a smile.
+"It's right there," she replied, and nodded.
+
+The boys turned to the blankness of a high privet hedge behind an iron
+fence. The girl laughed softly. "Behind the hedge, I mean," she
+explained. "The gate is a little way around the corner there, on Summit
+Street."
+
+"Oh," said Laurie. That laugh was contagious, and he grinned in
+response. "A man at the station told us it was only three quarters of a
+mile, but we've been walking for hours!"
+
+"I guess it's nearer a mile than three quarters," answered the girl,
+slowly. She appeared to be giving the matter very serious consideration
+and two little thoughtful creases appeared above her nose, a small,
+straight nose that was bridged by a sprinkling of freckles. Then the
+smile came again. "Maybe it did seem longer, though," she acknowledged,
+"for it's uphill all the way; and then, you had your bags. You're new
+boys, aren't you?"
+
+Ned acknowledged it, adding, "Think we'll like it?"
+
+The girl seemed genuinely surprised. "Why, of course! Every one likes
+it. What a perfectly funny idea!"
+
+"Well," said Laurie, defensively, "we've never tried boarding-school
+before, you see. Dad didn't know anything about Hillman's, either. He
+chose it on account of the way the advertisement read in a magazine.
+Something about 'a moderate discipline rigidly enforced.'"
+
+The girl laughed again. (She had a jolly sort of laugh, they decided.)
+"You're--you're twins, aren't you?" she asked.
+
+"He is," replied Ned, gravely.
+
+"Why--why, aren't you both?" Her brown eyes grew very round and the
+little lines creased her nose again.
+
+"It's this way," explained Laurie. "Ned was born first, and so, as there
+was only one of him, he wasn't a twin. Then I came, and that made two of
+us, and I was a twin. You see, don't you? It's really quite plain."
+
+The girl shook her head slowly in puzzlement. "I--I'm afraid I don't,"
+she answered apologetically. "You _must_ be twins--both of you, I
+mean--because you both look just like both--I mean, each other!" Then
+she caught the sparkle of mischief in Ned's blue eyes and laughed. Then
+they all laughed. After which they seemed suddenly to be very good
+friends, such good friends that Laurie abandoned custom and spoke out of
+turn.
+
+"I suppose you know a lot of the fellows," he said.
+
+The girl shook her head. "N--no, not any, really. Of course, I see most
+of them when they come to Mother's, but she doesn't like me to--to
+_know_ them."
+
+"Of course not," approved Ned. "She's dead right, too. They're a pretty
+poor lot, I guess."
+
+"Oh, no, they're not, really! Only, you see--" She stopped, and then
+went on a trifle breathlessly: "I guess she wouldn't be awfully pleased
+if she saw me now! I--I hope you'll like the school."
+
+She nodded and went on.
+
+"Thanks," called Laurie. "If we don't like it, we'll change it.
+Good-by."
+
+"Nice kid," observed Ned, tolerantly, as they turned the corner of the
+hedge. "Wonder who she is. She said most of the fellows went to her
+mother's. Maybe her mother gives dancing lessons or something, eh?"
+
+"If she does, she won't see me," responded his brother, firmly. "No
+dancing for mine."
+
+"Maybe it's compulsory."
+
+"Maybe it's esthetic," retorted Laurie, derisively. "It makes no never
+mind. I'm agin it. This must be the place. Yes, there's a sign."
+
+It was a very modest sign a-swing from a rustic post beside a broad
+entrance giving on to a well-kept drive. "Hillman's School--Entrance
+Only," it read. Laurie stopped in pretended alarm and laid a detaining
+clutch on Ned's shoulder.
+
+"'Entrance Only'! Sounds as if we couldn't ever get out again, Ned! Do
+you dare?"
+
+Ned looked doubtfully through at the curving drive and the red-brick
+building that showed beyond the border of trees and shrubbery. Then he
+threw back his shoulders and set foot bravely within.
+
+"Come, comrade, let us know the worst!"
+
+Laurie, with a gesture of resignation, followed.
+
+"What you durst I will likewise durst!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II--THE GIRL IN THE WHITE MIDDY
+
+
+When Doctor John Hyde Hillman started a modest school for boys, on the
+bank of the Hudson River, at Orstead, the town barely crept to the one
+brick building that contained dormitory and recitation-rooms. But that
+was nearly twenty years ago, and to-day the place is no longer isolated,
+but stands well inside the residence section of the village. There are
+four buildings, occupying most of an unusually large block. School Hall,
+four stories in height, is a red-brick, slate-roofed edifice, whose
+unloveliness has been mercifully hidden by ivy. It faces Summit Street
+and contains the class-rooms, the offices, and, at one end, the
+principal's quarters. Flanking it are the two dormitories, East Hall and
+West Hall. These, while of brick too, are modern and far more
+attractive. Each contains sleeping-rooms to accommodate forty students,
+two masters' studies, a recreation-hall, dining-room, kitchen, and
+service-rooms. Behind East Hall is the gymnasium, a picturesque
+structure of random-set stone, gray stucco, and much glass. Here,
+besides the gymnasium proper, is an auditorium of good size, a modest
+swimming-tank, locker-room and baths, and a commodious office presided
+over by Mr. Wells, the physical director. From the gymnasium steps one
+looks across an attractive, well-kept quadrangle of shaded turf,
+vegetable and flower gardens, and tennis-courts.
+
+Doctor Hillman occupies an apartment at the west end of the School Hall,
+gained from the building by way of the school offices, and from without
+by way of a wide porch, vine screened in summer and glassed in winter,
+an outdoor living-room where, on seasonable Friday afternoons, the
+doctor's maiden sister, Miss Tabitha, who keeps house for him, serves
+weak tea and layer-cake to all comers. Miss Tabitha, I regret to say, is
+known among the boys as "Tabby," with, however, no more intention of
+disrespect than in alluding to the doctor as "Johnny." Miss Tabitha's
+thin body holds a warm heart, and her somewhat stern countenance belies
+her kindly ways.
+
+On this fifteenth day of September, shortly after twelve o'clock, Miss
+Tabitha was seated on the vine-shaded porch in an erect and
+uncompromising attitude, her knitting-needles clicking busily. Near by,
+but a few moments before released from the office, the doctor was
+stretched in a long wicker chair, a morning paper before him. At the
+other end of the porch, a gate-legged table was spread for the mid-day
+meal, and a middle-aged colored woman--who, when it pleased her,
+answered to the name of Aunt Persis--shuffled in and out of sight at
+intervals. It was Miss Tabitha who, hearing the sound of steps on the
+walk, peered over her glasses and broke the silence.
+
+"Two more of the boys are coming, John," she announced.
+
+The doctor grunted.
+
+"I think they are new boys. Yes, I am sure they are. And bless my soul,
+John, they're alike as two peas!"
+
+"Alike?" The doctor rustled the paper to indicate interest. "Well, why
+shouldn't they be? Probably they're brothers. Let me see, weren't those
+two boys from California brothers? Of course. Turner's the name."
+
+"Well, I never saw two boys so much alike in all my born days," Miss
+Tabitha marveled. "Do you suppose they can be twins, John?"
+
+"It's quite within the realm of probability," was the reply. "I believe
+that twins do occur occasionally, even in the--er--best-regulated
+families."
+
+"Well, they certainly _are_ twins!" Miss Tabitha laid down her work,
+brushed the front of her immaculate dress, and prepared to rise. "I
+suppose I had better go and meet them," she added.
+
+"I don't see the necessity for it, my dear," the doctor protested.
+"Cummins may, I think, be relied on to deal even with--er--twins."
+
+"Of course; but--still--California's such a long way--and they may feel
+strange--or lonesome--"
+
+The doctor laughed gently. "Then by all means go, my dear. If you like,
+have them out here for a few minutes. If the resemblance between them is
+as striking as you seem to think, they must be worth seeing."
+
+When Miss Tabitha had tripped into the house, the doctor dropped his
+paper, stretched luxuriously, and, with a sigh of protest, sat up. He
+was several years younger than his sister--which is to say, in the
+neighborhood of forty-seven. He was a smallish man, compactly built,
+with a pleasant countenance on which a carefully-trimmed Vandyke beard
+made up to an extent for the lack of hair above. He wore shell-rimmed
+glasses and was very near-sighted, a fact emphasized by his manner of
+thrusting his head forward to eke out the deficiencies of his lenses.
+This trick was apparent a minute later when, following in the tripping
+footsteps of Miss Tabitha, the two boys emerged on the porch. They were
+amazingly alike, the doctor decided: same height, same breadth at hip
+and shoulder, same coloring, same leisurely, yet confident, ease of
+movement, same expression of lively curiosity twinkling through an
+almost depressingly respectful solemnity.
+
+"These are the Turner boys," announced Miss Tabitha. "This is Edward and
+this is--" She halted to look doubtfully from one to the other. "Or--or
+perhaps _this_ is Edward and--Dear me!"
+
+"I'm Edward, ma'am," said the boy in blue.
+
+"Well, I don't see how you can ever be _certain_ of it!" sighed Miss
+Tabitha, doubtfully. "This is Doctor Hillman."
+
+They shook hands, and in a moment the boys found themselves seated side
+by side and replying to the doctor's questions.
+
+"You are entering with certificates from your high school principal, I
+believe, young gentlemen. What year were you?"
+
+"Second, sir," answered Ned.
+
+"And your home is in--"
+
+"Santa Lucia, sir," replied Laurie.
+
+"California," added Ned.
+
+"Well, you're quite a ways from home. Did you make the trip alone?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Dad was coming with us as far as Chicago, but something
+happened so he couldn't. We didn't have any trouble, though."
+
+"Really? Well, I believe you have the distinction of residing farther
+away than any of your fellows here. I don't recall any one who lives as
+far away as California; do you, sister?"
+
+Miss Tabitha looked doubtful and hesitated an instant before she
+replied, "George Watson comes from Wyoming, I think, John."
+
+"So he does," assented the doctor, gravely; "but measured in a straight
+line, my dear, California is slightly farther than Wyoming."
+
+"Is it?" asked Miss Tabitha, untroubled. "I never could remember where
+those western States are."
+
+"You remember many more important things, however. My sister, boys,
+fancied that she detected a certain resemblance between you, and even
+surmised that you might be--er--twins. Doubtless she's mistaken."
+
+"No, sir," answered Ned, more than a trace of surprise in his voice. "I
+mean, we are twins, sir."
+
+"Why, now that's interesting! Looking closer--" the doctor leaned
+forward and craned his head--"I believe I detect a certain slight
+similarity myself!"
+
+There was a perceptible twinkle behind the glasses and Laurie dared a
+laugh, in which the doctor and Ned joined, while Miss Tabitha murmured:
+"Well! I should think you _might_!"
+
+"I hope you are both going to like the school," continued the doctor.
+"Of course, you'll find our ways a little different, but we'll try to
+make you feel at home. You are the first representatives of your State
+who have attended our school, and I trust that both in conduct and
+industry you will bring honor to it. Mr. Cornish, your hall master, will
+advise you in all matters pertaining to your studies, Other questions
+may be taken to Mr. Cummins, the school secretary, whom you have
+doubtless already met. But I want you always to feel at perfect liberty
+to come to me at any time on any matter at all. And," added the doctor,
+with a twinkle, "if we fail you, there is still my sister, who, I assure
+you, possesses more wisdom than all of us."
+
+Miss Tabitha acknowledged the compliment with a little wry smile, and
+Ned and Laurie arose.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the former.
+
+"Thank you, sir," said Laurie.
+
+"Luncheon is served at one in West Hall," continued the doctor. "That's
+the dormitory behind you there. Beginning with supper to-night, you will
+take your meals in your own hall, but only a few of the students have
+arrived as yet, and so only one dining-room is open. I'm very glad to
+have met you, young gentlemen. Mr. Cummins will direct you to your room.
+Good morning."
+
+Five minutes later, the Turner twins set their suitcases down on the
+floor of Number 16 East Hall and looked about them. Number 16 was not
+palatial as to size, but it was big enough to hold comfortably the two
+single beds, the study-table, the two narrow chiffoniers, and the four
+chairs that made up its furnishing. There was a generous-sized closet at
+each side of the door, and two windows set close together between the
+beds. Under the windows was a wide seat, lacking only pillows to make it
+inviting. From the casements the boys looked over or through the topmost
+branches of the maples that lined Washington Street and followed Summit
+Street as it continued its ascent of the hill and presently leveled out
+between a thick wood on one side and an open field on the other.
+
+"That must be the athletic field," said Laurie. "See the stand there?
+And the goal-posts? How do you like it?"
+
+"The field? Looks all right from here."
+
+"I mean the whole outfit, you simp; the school and Doctor Hillman and
+Miss Frosty-Face and everything."
+
+"Cut out calling names, Laurie. Miss Hillman's all right. So's the
+doctor. So's the school. I like it. Wonder when our trunks will get
+here."
+
+"Half an hour ago you had a hunch you weren't going to like it," jeered
+Laurie. "Changed your mind, haven't you?"
+
+"Yes, and I'm going to change more than my mind." Whereupon Ned opened
+his bag and selected a clean shirt. "What time is it?"
+
+"What do you wear a watch for if you never look at it?" grumbled his
+brother. "It's ten to one, Lazy. I'm going to find a place to wash up. I
+choose this side of the room, Ned."
+
+Ned studied the room a moment. "No, you don't," he challenged. "I'll
+take this side. I'm the oldest." "There isn't any difference, you chump.
+One side's as good as the other."
+
+"Then you won't mind taking the other," answered Ned, sweetly. "Run
+along and find the lavatory. I think it's at the head of the stairs.
+Wonder why they put us up two flights."
+
+"Guess they knew you were naturally lazy and needed the exercise."
+
+Laurie dodged a pair of traveling slippers in a red-leather case and
+disappeared into the corridor.
+
+Some ten minutes later they descended the stairway together and set out
+for West Hall. Laurie drew attention to the gymnasium building, but Ned,
+who had recovered his appetite, only deigned it a glance. Two boys,
+luggage laden, evidently just arrived, came down the steps of School
+Hall as the twins passed, and stared curiously.
+
+"Guess they've never seen twins before in this part of the world,"
+grumbled Laurie. "Those chaps nearly popped their eyes out!"
+
+West Hall proved an exact duplicate of their own dormitory, and the
+dining-room occupied all the right end of it. There were about fifteen
+boys there, in age varying from fourteen to eighteen, and there was a
+perceptible pause in the business of eating when the newcomers entered.
+A waitress conducted them to seats at a table already occupied by three
+other lads, and asked if they'd have milk or iced tea. Ned, as usual,
+answered for both.
+
+"Iced tea, please, and lots of lemon."
+
+A very stout boy, sitting across the table, sniggered, and then,
+encountering Ned's inquiring regard, said, "Guess you think you're in
+the Waldorf!"
+
+
+"What's the Waldorf?" asked Ned. "Don't you get lemon with iced tea
+here?"
+
+"Sure! but you don't get much. Say, are you fellows--twins, or what?"
+
+"Twins?" repeated Laurie. "Where do you get that stuff? This fellow's
+name is Anderson and mine's Stenman. What's yours?"
+
+"Crow. Honest, is that a fact?" Crow looked appealingly at the other
+occupants of the table. These, however, two rather embarrassed-looking
+youngsters of fourteen or thereabouts, fixed their eyes on their plates,
+and Crow turned his regard incredulously back to the twins. "Gee, you
+fellows look enough alike to be--be--" He swallowed the word. "Aren't
+you even related?"
+
+Ned gazed speculatively at Laurie and Laurie gazed speculatively at Ned.
+"We might be," hazarded the latter.
+
+Laurie nodded. "If we went back far enough, we might find a common
+ancestor."
+
+The arrival of luncheon caused a diversion, although Crow, who was a
+round-faced, credulous-looking youth of perhaps seventeen, continued to
+regard them surreptitiously and in puzzlement. At last, making the
+passing of the salt an excuse, for further conversation, he asked,
+"Where do you fellows come from?"
+
+"California," said Ned.
+
+"Santa Lucia," said Laurie.
+
+"Well, but," sputtered Crow, "isn't California in Santa--I mean, isn't
+Santa--Say, you guys are joking, I'll bet!"
+
+"Methinks," observed Ned, helping himself gravely to mustard, "his words
+sound coarse and vulgar."
+
+Laurie abstractedly added a fourth teaspoon of sugar to his iced tea.
+"Like Turk or Kurd or even Bulgar," he murmured.
+
+Crow stared, grunted, and pushed his chair back. "You fellows think
+you're smart, don't you?" he sputtered. "Bet you you are twins--both of
+you!"
+
+Ned and Laurie looked after him in mild and patient surprise until his
+broad back had disappeared from view. Then a choking sound came from one
+of the younger lads, and Ned asked gently, "Now what's your trouble,
+son?"
+
+The boy grew very red of face and gave way to giggles. "I knew all the
+time you were twins," he gasped.
+
+"Did you really?" exclaimed Laurie. "Well, listen. Just as a favor to
+us, don't say anything about it, eh? You see, we're sort of--sort of--"
+
+"Sort of sensitive," aided Ned. "We'd rather it wasn't generally known.
+You understand, don't you?"
+
+The boy looked as if he was very far indeed from understanding, but he
+nodded, choked again, and muttered something that seemed to indicate
+that the secret was safe with him. Laurie thanked him gratefully.
+
+After luncheon they went sight-seeing about the school, snooped through
+the dim corridors and empty class-rooms of School Hall, viewed the
+gymnasium and experimented with numerous apparatus, and finally, after
+browsing through a flower and vegetable garden behind the recitation
+building and watching two boys make a pretense of playing tennis,
+returned to Number 16 in the hope of finding their trunks. But the
+baggage had not arrived, and presently, since the room was none too
+cool, they descended again and followed the curving drive to the right
+and past a sign that said "Exit Only" and wandered west on Summit
+Street.
+
+For the middle of September in the latitude of southern New York the
+weather was decidedly warm, and neither grass nor trees hinted that
+autumn had arrived. In the well-kept gardens across the way, scarlet
+sage and cosmos, asters and dahlias made riots of color.
+
+"Hot!" grunted Ned, running a finger around the inside of his collar.
+
+"Beastly," agreed Laurie, removing his cap and fanning his heated face.
+"Wonder where the river is. If we had our bathing-suits, maybe we could
+go for a swim."
+
+"Yes, and if we had a cake of ice we could sit on it!" responded Ned,
+sarcastically. "This place is hotter than Santa Lucia."
+
+At the next corner they turned again to the right. Morton Street, like
+so many of the streets in Orstead, refused to go straight, and after a
+few minutes, to their mild bewilderment, they found themselves on Walnut
+Street once more, a block below the school.
+
+"I'm not going back yet," said Laurie, firmly. "Let's find a place where
+we can get something cool to drink."
+
+As Walnut Street was unpromising, they crossed it and meandered along
+Garden Street. The houses here appeared to be less prosperous, and the
+front yards were less likely to hold lawn and flowers than dilapidated
+baby-carriages. At the first crossing they peered right and left, and
+were rewarded by the sight of a swinging sign at a little distance.
+
+What the sign said was as yet a mystery, for the trees intervened, but
+Laurie declared that he believed in signs and they made their way toward
+it. It finally proved to be a very cheerful little sign hung above a
+little white door in a little pale-blue two-story house, the lower floor
+of which was plainly devoted to commercial purposes.
+
+                              L. S. DEANE
+                            BOOKS, TOYS, AND
+                             CONFECTIONERY
+                          CIRCULATING LIBRARY
+                             LAUNDRY AGENCY
+                                 TONICS
+
+That is what the sign said in red letters on a white background. The
+windows, many paned, allowed uncertain glimpses of various articles:
+tops of red and blue and green, boxes of pencils, pads of paper, jars of
+candy, many bottles of ink, a catcher's glove, a dozen tennis-balls,
+some paper kites--
+
+Laurie dragged Ned inside, through a screen door that, on opening,
+caused a bell to tinkle somewhere in the farther recesses of the little
+building. It was dark inside, after the glare of the street, and
+refreshingly cool. Laurie, leading the way, collided with a bench,
+caromed off the end of a counter, and became aware of a figure, dimly
+seen, beyond the width of a show-case.
+
+"Have you anything cold to drink?" asked Ned, leaning across the
+show-case.
+
+"Ginger-ale or tonic or something?" Laurie elaborated.
+
+"Yes, indeed," replied the apparition, in a strangely familiar voice.
+"If you will step over to the other side, please--"
+
+Ned and Laurie leaned farther across the show-case.
+
+It was the girl in the white middy dress.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III--CAKES AND ALE
+
+
+"Hello!" exclaimed the twins, in one voice.
+
+"Hello," replied the girl, and they suspected that she was smiling,
+although their eyes were still too unused to the dimness of the little
+store for them to be certain. She was still only a vague figure in
+white, with a deeper blur where her face should have been. Treading on
+each other's heels, Ned and Laurie followed her to the other side. The
+twilight brightened and objects became more distinct. They were in front
+of a sort of trough-like box in which, half afloat in a pool of
+ice-water, were bottles of tonic and soda and ginger-ale. Behind it was
+a counter on which reposed a modest array of pastry.
+
+"What do you want?" asked the girl in the middy.
+
+"Ginger-ale," answered Ned. "Say, do you live here?"
+
+"No, this is the shop," was the reply. "I live upstairs."
+
+"Oh, well, you know what I mean," muttered Ned. "Is this your store?"
+
+"It's my mother's. I help in it afternoons. My mother is Mrs. Deane. The
+boys call her the Widow. I'm Polly Deane."
+
+"Pleased to know you," said Laurie. "Our name's Turner. I'm Laurie and
+he's Ned. Let me open that for you."
+
+"Oh, no, thanks. I've opened hundreds of them. Oh dear! You said
+ginger-ale, didn't you! And I've opened a root-beer. It's so dark in
+here in the afternoon."
+
+"That's all right," Ned assured her. "We like root-beer. We'd just as
+soon have it as ginger-ale. Wouldn't we, Laurie?"
+
+"You bet! We're crazy about it."
+
+"Are you sure? It's no trouble to--Well, _this_ is ginger-ale, anyway.
+I'm awfully sorry!"
+
+"What do we care?" asked Ned. "We don't own it."
+
+"Don't own it?" repeated Polly, in a puzzled tone.
+
+"That's just an expression of his," explained Laurie. "He's awfully
+slangy. I try to break him of it, but it's no use. It's fierce."
+
+"Of course _you_ don't use slang?" asked Polly, demurely. "Who wants the
+root-beer?"
+
+"You take it," said Laurie, hurriedly.
+
+"No, you," said Ned. "You're fonder of it than I am, Laurie. I don't
+mind, really!"
+
+Laurie managed a surreptitious kick on his brother's shin. "Tell you
+what," he exclaimed, "we'll mix 'em!"
+
+Ned agreed, though not enthusiastically, and with the aid of a third
+glass the deed was done. The boys tasted experimentally, each asking a
+question over the rim of his glass. Then looks of relief came over both
+faces and they sighed ecstatically.
+
+"Corking!" they breathed in unison.
+
+Polly laughed, "I never knew any one to do that before," she said. "I'm
+glad you like it. I'll tell the other boys about it."
+
+"No, you mustn't," protested Ned. "It's our invention. We'll call
+it--call it--"
+
+"Call it an Accident," suggested Laurie.
+
+"We'll call it a Polly," continued the other. "It really is bully.
+It's--it's different; isn't it, Laurie? Have another?"
+
+"Who were those on?" was the suspicious reply.
+
+"You. The next is on me. Only maybe another wouldn't taste so good, eh?"
+
+"Don't you fool yourself! I'll risk that."
+
+However, the third and fourth bottles, properly combined though they
+were, lacked novelty, and it was some time before the last glass was
+emptied. Meanwhile, of course, they talked. The boys acknowledged that,
+so far, they liked what they had seen of the school. Mention of the
+doctor and Miss Hillman brought forth warm praise from Polly. "Every one
+likes the doctor ever so much," she declared. "And Miss Tabitha is--"
+
+"Miss what?" interrupted Laurie.
+
+"Miss Tabitha. That's her name." Polly laughed softly. "They call her
+Tabby,--the boys, I mean,--but they like her. She's a dear, even if she
+does look sort of--of cranky. She isn't, though, a bit. She makes
+believe she's awfully stern, but she's just as soft as--as--"
+
+"As Laurie's head?" offered Ned, helpfully. "Say, you sell 'most
+everything here, don't you? Are those cream-puffs?"
+
+Ned slipped a hand into his pocket and Laurie coughed furiously. Ned's
+hand came forth empty. He turned away from temptation. "They look mighty
+good," he said. "If we'd seen those before we'd had all that
+ginger-ale--"
+
+Polly spoke detachedly. "You can have credit if you like," she said,
+placing the empty bottles aside. "The doctor lets the boys run bills
+here up to a dollar. They can't go over a dollar, though."
+
+"Personally," observed Laurie, jingling some coins in a trousers pocket,
+"I prefer to pay cash. Still, there are times--"
+
+"Yes, a fellow gets short now and then," said Ned, turning for another
+look at the pastry counter. "Maybe, just for--for convenience, it would
+be a good plan to have an account here, Laurie. Sometimes a fellow
+forgets to put any money in his pocket, you know. Does your mother make
+these?"
+
+"Yes, the cream-cakes, and some of the others. The rest Miss Comfort
+makes."
+
+"That's another funny name," said Laurie. "Who is Miss Comfort?"
+
+"She's--she's just Miss Comfort, I guess," replied Polly. "She lives on
+the next corner, in the house with the white shutters. She's quite old,
+almost seventy, I suppose, and she makes the nicest cake in Orstead.
+Everybody goes to her for cakes. That's the way she lives, I guess."
+
+"Maybe we'd ought to help her," suggested Ned, mentally choosing the
+largest and fattest cakes on the tray. "I guess we'll take a couple. How
+much are they?"
+
+"Six cents apiece," said Polly. "Do you want them in a bag?"
+
+"No, thanks." Ned handed one of the cakes to Laurie; "we'll eat them
+now." Then, between mouthfuls; "Maybe you'd better charge this to us. If
+we're going to open an account, we might as well do it now, don't you
+think?"
+
+Polly retired behind a counter and produced a long and narrow book, from
+which dangled a lead pencil at the end of a string. She put the tip of
+the pencil between her lips and looked across. "You'd better tell me
+your full names, I think."
+
+"Edward Anderson Turner and--"
+
+"I meant just your first names."
+
+"Oh! Edward and Laurence. You can charge us each with two bottles and
+one cake."
+
+"I like that!" scoffed Laurie. "Thought you were treating to cakes?"
+
+"Huh! Don't you want to help Miss Comfort? I should think you'd like
+to--to do a charitable act once in a while."
+
+"Don't see what difference it makes to her," grumbled Laurie, "whether
+you pay for both or I pay for one. She gets her money just the same."
+
+Ned brushed a crumb from his jacket. "You don't get the idea," he
+replied gently. "Of course, I might pay for both, but you wouldn't feel
+right about it, Laurie."
+
+"Wouldn't I? Where do you get that stuff? You try it and see." Laurie
+spoke grimly, but not hopefully. Across the counter, Polly was giggling
+over the account-book.
+
+"You're the funniest boys I ever did see," she explained, in answer to
+their inquiring looks. "You--you say such funny things!"
+
+Before she could elucidate, footsteps sounded in the room behind the
+store and a tiny white-haired woman appeared. In spite of her hair, she
+couldn't have been very old, for her face was plump and unwrinkled and
+her cheeks quite rosy. Seeing the customers, she bowed prettily and said
+"Good afternoon" in a very sweet voice.
+
+"Good afternoon," returned the twins.
+
+"Mama, these are the Turner boys," said Polly. "One of them is Ned and
+the other is Laurie, but I don't know which, because they look just
+exactly alike. They--they're twins!"
+
+"I want to know!" said Mrs. Deane. "Isn't that nice? I'm very pleased to
+meet you, young gentlemen. I hope Polly has served you with what you
+wanted. My stock is kind of low just now. You see, we don't have many
+customers in summer, and it's very hard to get things, nowadays, even if
+you do pay three times what they're worth. Polly, those ice-cream cones
+never did come, did they?"
+
+"Gee, do you have ice-cream?" asked Ned; eagerly.
+
+"Never you mind!" said Laurie, grabbing his arm. "You come on out of
+here before you die on my hands. I'm sorry to tell you, ma'am, that he
+doesn't know when to stop eating. I have to go around everywhere with
+him and look after him. If I didn't, he'd be dead in no time."
+
+"I want to know!" exclaimed the Widow Deane interestedly. "Why, it's
+very fortunate for him he has you, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes'm," answered Laurie, but he spoke doubtfully, for the little
+white-haired lady seemed to hide a laugh behind her words. Ned was
+grinning. Laurie propelled him to the door. Then, without relinquishing
+his grasp, he doffed his cap.
+
+"Good afternoon," he said, "We'll come again,"
+
+"We know not how," added Ned, "we know not when."
+
+"Bless my soul!" murmured the Widow, as the screen door swung behind
+them.
+
+Back at school, the twins found a different scene from what they had
+left. The grounds were populous with boys, and open windows in the two
+dormitory buildings showed many others. The entrances were piled with
+trunks and more were arriving. A rattling taxi turned in at the gate,
+with much blowing of a frenzied but bronchial horn, and added five merry
+youths to the population. Ned and Laurie made their way to East Hall,
+conscious, as they approached, of many eyes focussed on them from
+wide-flung windows. Remarks reached them, too.
+
+"See who's with us!" came from a second-floor casement above the
+entrance; "the two Dromios!"
+
+"Tweedledum and Tweedledee!"
+
+"The Siamese Twins, I'll bet a cooky!"
+
+"Hi, East Hall! Heads out!"
+
+The two were glad when they reached the shelter of the doorway. "Some
+one's going to get his head punched before long," growled Ned, as they
+started upstairs.
+
+"What do we care? We don't own 'em. Let them have their fun, Neddie."
+
+"I'll let some of them have a wallop," was the answer. "You'd think we
+were the first pair of twins they'd ever seen!"
+
+"Well, maybe we are. How do you know? Suppose those trunks have come?"
+
+They had, and for the next hour the twins were busy unpacking and
+getting settled. From beyond their door came sounds of much turmoil; the
+noise of arriving baggage, the banging of doors, shouts, whistling,
+singing; but they were otherwise undisturbed until, just when Laurie had
+slammed down the lid of his empty trunk, there came a knock at their
+portal, followed, before either one could open his mouth in response, by
+the appearance in the doorway of a bulky apparition in a gorgeous
+crimson bath-robe.
+
+"Hello, fellows!" greeted the apparition. "Salutations and everything!"
+
+[Illustration: "Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!"]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV--KEWPIE STARTS SOMETHING
+
+
+The twins stared silently and suspiciously for an instant. Then Ned made
+cautious response.
+
+"Hello," he said, with what must have seemed to the visitor a lamentable
+lack of cordiality.
+
+The latter pushed the door shut behind him by the kick of one stockinged
+foot, and grinned jovially. "My name's Proudtree," he announced.
+
+"You can't blame us," replied Laurie, coldly.
+
+Proudtree laughed amiably. "It is a rotten name, isn't it? I live across
+the corridor, you know. Thought I'd drop in and get acquainted, seeing
+you're new fellows; extend the hand of friendship and all that. You
+understand. By Jove, Pringle was right, too!"
+
+"That's fine," said Ned, with more than a trace of sarcasm. "What
+about?"
+
+"Why," answered Proudtree, easing his generous bulk into a chair, "he
+said you fellows were twins."
+
+"Not only were," said Laurie, gently, "but are. Don't mind, do you?"
+
+"Oh, come off your horse," begged the visitor. "Don't be so cocky. Who's
+said anything? I just wanted to have a look. Never saw any twins
+before--grown-up twins, I mean. You understand."
+
+"Thought you said you came to extend the hand of friendship," retorted
+Ned, sarcastically. "Well, have a good look, partner. There's no
+charge!"
+
+Proudtree grinned and accepted the invitation. Ned fumed silently under
+the inspection, but Laurie's sense of humor came to his aid. Proudtree
+appeared to be getting a lot of entertainment from his silent comparison
+of his hosts, and presently, when Ned's exasperation had just about
+reached the explosive point, he chuckled.
+
+"I've got it," he said.
+
+"Got what?" Laurie asked.
+
+"The--the clue! I know how to tell you apart! His eyes are different
+from yours; more blue. Yours are sort of gray. But, geewhillikins, it
+must be a heap of fun! Being twins, I mean. And fooling people. You
+understand."
+
+"Well, if you're quite through," snapped Ned, "maybe you'll call it a
+day. We've got things to do."
+
+"Meaning you'd like me to beat it?" asked the visitor, good-temperedly.
+
+"Just that!"
+
+"Oh, come, Ned," Laurie protested, soothingly, "he's all right. I dare
+say we are sort of freakish and--"
+
+"Sure," agreed Proudtree, eagerly, "that's what I meant. But say, I
+didn't mean to hurt any one's feelings. Geewhillikins, if I got waxy
+every time the fellows josh me about being fat--" Words failed him and
+he sighed deeply.
+
+Laurie laughed. "We might start a side-show, the three of us, and make a
+bit of money. 'Only ten cents! One dime! This way to the Siamese Twins
+and the Fat Boy! Walk up! Walk up!'"
+
+Proudtree smiled wanly. "I only weigh a hundred and seventy-eight and
+three quarters, too," he said dolorously. "If I was a couple of inches
+taller it wouldn't be so bad."
+
+"I don't think it's bad as it is," said Laurie, kindly. "You don't look
+really _fat_; you just look sort of--of--"
+
+"Amplitudinous," supplied Ned, with evident satisfaction.
+
+Proudtree viewed him doubtfully. Then he smiled. "Well, I've got to get
+rid of nearly fifteen pounds in the next two weeks," he said, with a
+shake of his head, "and that's going to take some doing."
+
+"What for?" Laurie asked. "Why destroy your symmetry?"
+
+"Football. I'm trying for center. I nearly made it last year, but
+Wiggins beat me out. He's gone now, though, and Mulford as good as said
+last spring that I could make it this fall if I could get down to a
+hundred and sixty-five."
+
+"Who's Mulford?" inquired Ned. "A fortune-teller?"
+
+Proudtree ignored the sarcasm. "Mulford's our coach. He's all right,
+too. The trouble with me is, I'm awfully fond of sweet things, and
+I--I've been eating a lot of 'em lately. But I guess I can drop fourteen
+pounds if I cut out pies and candy and things. Don't you think so?"
+Proudtree appealed to Laurie almost pathetically.
+
+"Don't let any one tell you anything different," replied Laurie,
+reassuringly. Ned, evidently recovered from his peevishness, asked:
+
+"What sort of football do they play here?"
+
+"Corking!" answered Proudtree.
+
+"I mean, Rugby or the other?"
+
+"Rugby!" exclaimed Proudtree, scornfully. "I guess not! We play regular
+football. Nobody plays Rugby around these parts. Are you fellows going
+out?"
+
+"Not just yet," replied Ned.
+
+"He means are we going to try for the football team," explained Laurie.
+"Yes, we are, Proudtree; at least, one of us is."
+
+"You?"
+
+"We haven't decided yet. You see, we've never played your kind of
+football. Back home, at high school, we played American Rugby, and it's
+quite different. But we decided that one of us had better go in for
+football and the other for baseball, if only to do our duty by the
+school."
+
+Proudtree looked puzzled. "How are you going to decide?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, we'll toss up or draw lots or something, I suppose. Maybe, though,
+Ned had better play football, because I know more baseball than he does.
+Still, I'm not particular."
+
+"That's the limit!" chuckled the visitor. "Say, what are your names? I
+didn't see any cards on the door."
+
+"Turner. His is Laurie and mine's Ned," answered the latter. "Do we put
+our names on the door?"
+
+"It's the best way," answered Proudtree. "Well, I've got to be moving. I
+started to take a shower and got side-tracked. You chaps come on over
+and see me and I'll get some of the other fellows in. You want to meet
+the right sort, you know. What's your class?"
+
+"Lower middle, I reckon," said Ned. "That's what we expect."
+
+"Too bad you can't make upper. That's mine. We've got a corking bunch of
+fellows this year. Well, see you later. Try for Mr. Barrett's table when
+you go down. That's the best. Maybe they'll put you there if you bluff
+it out. You understand. So long, fellows."
+
+Proudtree withdrew with considerable dignity in view of his bulk, waving
+a benedictory hand ere the door closed behind him. Ned shook his head.
+"Sort of a fresh hombre," he said.
+
+"Oh, he only meant to be friendly, I reckon," said Laurie. "You
+understand."
+
+Ned laughed. "I'll bet they've got a wonderful football team here if he
+plays on it! By the way, maybe we'd better settle which of us is to be
+the football star. I suppose they begin to practise pretty soon. I'll be
+the goat, if you like; though you had better luck with that book you
+bought in Chicago. I couldn't make head or tail of it. I never saw so
+many rules for playing one game in my life!"
+
+"It _was_ sort of difficult," agreed Laurie. "I dare say, though, that
+you pick up the rules quick enough when you start to play. If you don't
+really mind, I think you'd better go in for football, and I'll do the
+baseball stunt. I've played it more than you have, you know, even if I'm
+no wonder."
+
+"All right!" Ned sighed. "We'll get a bottle of arnica to-morrow.
+Nothing like being prepared. How about going to see Mr. What's-his-name
+before supper about courses?"
+
+"Might as well, and have it over with. I'd like to know whether we're
+going to make the lower middle."
+
+"Don't see what else we can make. They can't stick us in the junior
+class. Where's my coat? For the love of lemons, Laurie, can't you find
+anything else to sit on? Gosh, look at the wrinkles!"
+
+"Those aren't wrinkles; they're just creases. Come on!"
+
+Half an hour later they closed the door of Mr. Cornish's study on the
+floor below, in a chastened mood. Each carried a little buff card
+whereon the instructor had tabulated an amazing number and variety of
+study periods. Back in Number 16, Ned cast himself into a chair, thrust
+his legs forth, and gazed disconsolately at the card.
+
+"I don't see where a fellow finds time for anything but work here," he
+complained. "Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one hours a week! What do you
+know about that?"
+
+"Well, don't be so proud of it. I've got the same, haven't I? I wonder
+how many hours he thinks there are in a day?"
+
+"I tell you what I think," said Ned, after a moment's thought. "I think
+he got it into his head that we're very ambitious and want to graduate
+next spring!"
+
+"Maybe that's it," agreed Laurie, gravely. "Shall we go back and tell
+him he's wrong?"
+
+"N-no, let's not. He seemed a well-meaning old codger, and I wouldn't
+want to hurt his feelings--if he has any. Let's go down and see what
+they've got for supper."
+
+Ned's blandishments failed with the waitress, and they were established
+at a table presided over by a tall and very thin gentleman, whose name,
+as they learned presently, was Mr. Brock. There were four tables in the
+room, each accommodating ten boys and a member of the faculty.
+Diagonally across the dining-hall, the twins descried the ample Mr.
+Proudtree. Another table was in charge of a pleasant-faced woman who
+proved to be the school matron, Mrs. Wyman. Mr. Cornish, the hall
+master, and Mr. Barrett sat at the heads of the remaining boards.
+
+The room was very attractive, with a fine big stone fireplace at the
+farther end, and broad windows on two sides. The food proved plain, but
+it was served in generous quantities; and notwithstanding that the twins
+were a bit self-conscious, they managed a very satisfactory meal.
+
+Their fellow-students seemed to be a very decent lot. Their ages
+appeared to average about sixteen, and they had the clean, healthy look
+of boys who spent much of their time outdoors. At the table at which the
+twins sat, four of the boys were evidently seniors, and one was as
+evidently a junior. The latter looked hardly more than thirteen, though
+he was in reality a year older than that, and had the features and
+expression of a cherub. The twins concluded that he was a new boy and
+felt a little sorry for him. He looked much too young and innocent to
+face the world alone.
+
+No one made any special effort to engage either Ned or Laurie in
+conversation, perhaps because the returning youths had so much to talk
+about among themselves. Mr. Brock ate his supper in silence, save when
+one of the older boys addressed him, and had a far-away and abstracted
+air. Laurie saw him sweeten his tea three times, and then frown in
+annoyance when he finally tasted it.
+
+The boy who had guessed their awful secret at luncheon sat at the next
+table, and more than once Ned caught him looking across with a
+half-bewildered, half-frightened expression that somehow managed to
+convey the intelligence that, in spite of temptation, he had kept the
+faith. Ned finally rewarded him with a significant wink, and the youth
+retired in confusion behind the milk-pitcher.
+
+When the meal was over the twins went outside and, following the example
+set by others, made themselves comfortable on the grass beyond the walk.
+Near by, two older boys were conversing earnestly, and Ned and Laurie,
+having exhausted their own subjects of conversation, found themselves
+listening.
+
+"We've got to do it," the larger of the two was saying. "Dave's going to
+call a meeting of the school for Friday evening, and Mr. Wells is going
+to talk to them. I'll talk too. Maybe you'd better, Frank. You can tell
+them a funny story and get them feeling generous."
+
+"Nothing doing, Joe. Leave me out of it. I never could talk from a
+platform. Anyway, it's the fellows' duty to provide money. If they
+don't, they won't have a team. They understand that--or they will when
+you tell them. There's another thing, though, Joe, that we've got to
+have besides money, and that's material. We've _got_ to get more fellows
+out."
+
+"I know. I'll tell them that, too. I'm going to put a notice up in
+School Hall in the morning. Mr. Cummins says there are eight new fellows
+entering the middle classes this year. Maybe some of them are
+football-players."
+
+"Bound to be. Did you see the twins?"
+
+"No, but Billy Emerson was telling me about them. What do they look
+like?"
+
+"Not bad. Rather light-weight, though, and sort of slow. They're from
+Arizona or somewhere out that way, I think. You can't tell them apart,
+Joe."
+
+"Think they're football stuff?"
+
+"Search me. Might be. They're light, though. Here comes Kewpie. Gosh,
+he's fatter than ever! Hi, Kewpie! Come over here!"
+
+It was Proudtree who answered the hail, descended the steps, and
+approached. "Hello, Joe! Hello, Frank! Well, here we are again, eh?
+Great to be back, isn't it? Have a good summer, Joe?"
+
+"Fine! You?"
+
+"Corking! I was on Dad's yacht all through August. Saw the races and
+everything. Bully eats, too. You understand."
+
+"Yes," Joe Stevenson replied, "and I understand why you're about twenty
+pounds overweight, Kewpie! You ought to be kicked around the yard, you
+fat loafer. Thought you wanted to play center this fall."
+
+"I'm going to! Listen, Joe, I'm only fourteen pounds over and I'll drop
+that in no time. Honest, I will. You see! Besides, it isn't all fat,
+either. A lot of it's good, hard muscle."
+
+"Yes, it is! I can see you getting muscle lying around on your father's
+yacht! I'm off you, Kewpie. You haven't acted square. You knew mighty
+well that you were supposed to keep yourself fit this summer, and now
+look at you! You're a big fat lump!"
+
+"Aw, say, Joe! Listen, will you?" Proudtree's gaze wandered in search of
+inspiration and fell on the twins. His face lighted. "Hello, you chaps!"
+he said. Then he leaned over and spoke to Joe. "Say, have you met the
+Turner brothers, Joe? One of 'em's a swell player. Played out in North
+Dakota or somewhere."
+
+"Which one?" asked Joe, surreptitiously eying the twins. "Why, the--I
+forget: they look so much alike, you know. I think it's the one this
+way. Or maybe it's the other. Anyway, I'll fetch them over, eh?"
+
+"All right, Kewpie."
+
+Kewpie started away, paused, and spoke again. "They're--they're awfully
+modest chaps, Joe. You'd think from hearing them talk that they didn't
+know much about the game, but don't you be fooled. That's just their
+way. You understand."
+
+"Oh, sure, Kewpie!" And when the latter had gone on his errand Joe
+smiled and, lowering his voice, said to Frank Brattle: "Kewpie's trying
+to put something over. I wonder what."
+
+"Proudtree tells me one of you fellows plays football," said Joe, a
+minute later, when introductions had been performed and Ned and Laurie
+had seated themselves. "We need good players this fall. Of course, I
+hope you'll both come out."
+
+"Ned's the football chap," said Laurie. "Baseball's my line."
+
+"I don't know--" began Ned, but Laurie pinched him warningly, and he
+gulped and, to Kewpie's evident relief, made a fresh start. "I'm not
+much of a player," he said modestly, "but I'm willing to have a try at
+it."
+
+Kewpie darted an "I-told-you-so" glance at Joe and Frank.
+
+"Where do you come from, Turner?" Joe asked politely.
+
+"Santa Lucia, California. I was in the high school there two years.
+Everything's quite--quite different here." Ned spoke hurriedly, as
+though anxious to switch the conversation from football, and Laurie
+smiled in wicked enjoyment. "The climate's different, you know," Ned
+went on desperately, "and the country and--and everything."
+
+"I suppose so," said Frank Brattle. "What's your position, Turner?"
+
+"Position?"
+
+"Yes; I mean, where did you play? Behind the line, I suppose, or maybe
+end."
+
+"Oh, yes, yes, behind the line. You see, I--I--"
+
+"There aren't many fellows can play half-back the way Ned can," said
+Laurie, gravely. "He won't tell you so, but if you ever meet any one who
+saw him play against Weedon School last year--"
+
+"Shut up!" begged Ned, almost tearfully.
+
+Kewpie was grinning delightedly. Joe Stevenson viewed Ned with absolute
+affection. "Half-back, eh? Well, we can use another good half, Turner,
+and I hope you're the fellow. I don't know whether Kewpie told you that
+I'm captain this year, but I am, and I'm going to try mighty hard to
+captain a winning team. You look a bit light, but I dare say you're
+fast, and, for my part, I like them that way. Besides, we've got Mason
+and Boessel if we want the heavy sort. Practice starts to-morrow at
+four, by the way. How about your brother? Glad to have him come out,
+too. Even if he hasn't played, he might learn the trick. And there's
+next year to think of, you know."
+
+"I think not, thanks," answered Laurie. "One football star is enough in
+the family."
+
+"Well, if you change your mind, come on and have a try. Glad to have met
+you. See you to-morrow--er--Turner. I want to find Dave, Frank. Coming
+along?"
+
+The two older boys made off toward West Hall, and as soon as they were
+out of hearing Ned turned indignantly on Laurie.
+
+"You're a nice one!" he hissed. "Look at the hole you've got me in!
+'Half-back'! 'Played against Weedon School'! What did you want to talk
+that way for? Why, those fellows think I know football!"
+
+"Cheer up," answered his brother, grinning. "All you've got to do is
+bluff it through. Besides, Proudtree asked us not to let on we didn't
+know a football from a doughnut, and I had to say something! You acted
+as if you were tongue-tied!"
+
+"Yes; that's so--you started it!" Ned turned belligerently around. "Said
+it would be a favor to you--" He stopped, discovering that Proudtree had
+silently disappeared and that he was wasting his protests on the empty
+air. "Huh!" he resumed after a moment of surprise, "it's a good thing he
+did beat it! Look here, Laurie, I'm in a beast of a mess. Yow know I
+can't face that captain chap to-morrow. Suppose he handed me a football
+and told me to kick it!"
+
+"He won't. I've watched football practice back home. You'll stand around
+in a circle--"
+
+"How the dickens can I stand in a circle?" objected Ned.
+
+"And pass a football for a while. Then you'll try starting, and maybe
+fall on the ball a few times, until you're nice and lame, and after that
+you'll run around the track half a dozen times--"
+
+"Oh, shut up! You make me sick! I won't do it. I'm through. I'd look
+fine, wouldn't I? I guess not, partner!"
+
+"You've got to, Ned," replied Laurie calmly. "You can't back down now.
+The honor of the Turners is at stake! Come on up and I'll read that
+rules book to you. Maybe some of it'll seep in!"
+
+After a moment of indecision Ned arose and followed silently.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V--IN THE PERFORMANCE OF DUTY
+
+
+School began in earnest the next morning. Ned and Laurie were awakened
+from a deep slumber by the imperative clanging of a gong. There were
+hurried trips to the bath-room, and finally a descent to the
+recreation-room and morning prayers. Breakfast followed in the pleasant,
+sunlit dining-hall, and at half-past eight the twins went to their first
+class. There wasn't much real work performed that morning, however.
+Books were bought and, being again in possession of funds, Ned purchased
+lavishly of stationery and supplies. He had a veritable passion for
+patent binders, scratch-pads, blank-books, and pencils, and Laurie
+viewed the result of a half-hour's mad career with unconcealed concern.
+
+"You're all wrong, Ned," he said earnestly. "We aren't opening a
+stationery emporium. Besides, we can't begin to compete with the office.
+They buy at wholesale, and--"
+
+"Never mind the comedy. You'll be helping yourself to these things soon
+enough, and then you won't be so funny."
+
+"That's the only way they'll ever get used up! Why, you've got enough
+truck there to last three years!"
+
+There was one interesting annual observance that morning that the twins
+witnessed inadvertently. At a little after eight the fellows began to
+assemble in front of School Hall. Ned and Laurie, joining the throng,
+supposed that it was merely awaiting the half-hour, until presently
+there appeared at the gate a solitary youth of some fourteen years, who
+came up the circling drive about as joyfully as a French Royalist
+approaching the guillotine. Deep silence prevailed until the embarrassed
+and unhappy youth had conquered half of the interminable distance. Then
+a loud "_Hep!_" was heard, and the throng broke into a measured refrain:
+
+"_Hep!--Hep!--Hep!--Hep!_"
+
+This was in time to the boy's dogged steps. A look of consternation came
+into his face and he faltered. Then, however, he set his jaw, looked
+straight ahead, and came on determinedly.
+
+"_Hep!--Hep!_"
+
+Up the steps he passed, a disk of color in each cheek, looking neither
+to right nor left, and passed from sight. As he did so, the chorus
+changed to a good-humored laugh of approval. Ned made inquiry of a youth
+beside him.
+
+"Day boy," was the explanation. "There are ten of them, you know:
+fellows who live in town. We always give them a welcome. That chap had
+spunk, but you wait and see some of them!"
+
+Two more followed together, and, each upheld in that moment of trial by
+the presence of the other, passed through the ordeal with flying colors.
+But the twins noted that the laughing applause was lacking. After that,
+the remaining seven arrived almost on each other's heels and the air was
+filled with "_Heps!_" Some looked only surprised, others angry; but most
+of then grinned in a sickly, embarrassed way and went by with hanging
+heads.
+
+"Sort of tough," was Ned's verdict, and Laurie agreed as they followed
+the last victim inside.
+
+"It looks as if day students weren't popular," he added.
+
+Later, though, he found that he was wrong. The boys who lived in the
+village were accepted without reservation, but, naturally enough, seldom
+attained to a full degree of intimacy with those who lived in the
+dormitories.
+
+By afternoon the twins had become well shaken down into the new life,
+had made several superficial acquaintances, and had begun to feel at
+home. Of Kewpie Proudtree they had caught but fleeting glimpses, for
+that youth displayed a tendency to keep at a distance. As the hour of
+four o'clock approached, Ned became more and more worried, and his
+normally sunny countenance took on an expression of deep gloom. Laurie
+kept close at his side, fearing that courage would fail and Ned would
+bring disgrace to the tribe of Turner. But Laurie ought to have known
+better, for Ned was never what his fellows would have called a
+"quitter." Ned meant to see it through. His mind had retained very
+little of the football lore that his brother had poured into it the
+night before, but he had, at least, a somewhat clearer idea of the
+general principles of the game. He knew, for instance, that a team
+comprised eleven players instead of the twelve he had supposed, and that
+certain restrictions governed the methods by which you might wrest the
+ball from an opponent. Thus, you could not legally snatch it out of his
+arms, nor trip him up in the hope that he would drop it. Ned thought the
+restrictions rather silly, but accepted them.
+
+The athletic field, known in school parlance as the play-field, was even
+larger than it had looked from their windows. It held two gridirons and
+three baseball diamonds, as well as a quarter-mile track and ten
+tennis-courts. There was also a picturesque and well-appointed
+field-house and a fairly large grand stand. To Ned's relief, most of the
+ninety students were in attendance, though only about forty of the
+number were in playing togs. Ned's idea was that among so many he might
+escape close observation.
+
+He had, of course, handled a football more or less, and he was possessed
+of his full share of common sense. Besides, he had perhaps rather more
+than his share of assurance. To his own surprise, if not to Laurie's, he
+got through the hour and a half of practice very creditably. Seasoned
+candidates and novices were on the same plane to-day. There was, first
+of all, a talk by the coach. Mr. Mulford was a short, broad,
+good-humored man of about thirty, with a round and florid countenance,
+which possibly accounted for the nickname of "Pinky" that the school had
+affectionately awarded him. His real name was Stephen, and he had played
+guard, and played it well, for several years with Trinity College. This
+was his fourth season as football coach at Hillman's and his third as
+baseball coach. So far he had been fairly successful in both sports.
+
+His talk was brief and earnest, although he smiled through it all. He
+wanted lots of material, but he didn't want any fellow to report for
+practice who didn't mean to do his level best and stick it out. Those
+who were afraid of either hard work or hard knocks had better save their
+time and his. Those who did report would get a fair trial and no favor.
+He meant to see the best team this fall that Hillman's School had ever
+turned out, one that would start with a rush and finish with a bang,
+like a rocket!
+
+"And," he went on, "I want this team made up the way a rocket is. A
+rocket is filled with stars, fellows, but you don't realize it until the
+final burst. So we're going to put the soft pedal on individual
+brilliancy this year. It almost had us licked last fall, as you'll
+remember. This year we're going to try hard for a well-rounded team of
+hard workers, fellows who will interlock and gear together. It's the
+machine that wins, the machine of eleven parts that work all together in
+oil. We're going to find the eleven parts first, and after that we're
+going to do the oiling. All right now! Ten men to a squad. Get balls and
+pass in circles. Learn to hold the ball when you catch it. Glue right to
+it. And when you pass, put it where you want it to go. Don't think that
+the work is silly and unnecessary, because it isn't. A fellow who can't
+hold a ball when it comes to him is of no use on this team. So keep your
+minds right on the job and your eyes right on the ball. All right,
+Captain Stevenson."
+
+At least, Ned could, to quote Laurie, "stand in a circle" and pass a
+football, and he did, and did it better than several others in his
+squad. In the same way, he could go after a trickling pigskin and catch
+it up without falling over himself, though it is possible that his
+"form" was less graceful than that of one or two of his fellows. When,
+later, they were formed in a line and started off by the snapping of the
+ball in the hands of a world-wearied youth in a faded blue sweater
+bearing a white H on its breast, Ned didn't show up so well, for he was
+almost invariably one of the last to plunge forward. The blue-sweatered
+youth called his attention to the fact finally in a few well-chosen
+words.
+
+"You guy in the brown bloomers!" he bellowed. (Of course they weren't
+bloomers, but a pair of somewhat expansive golf breeches that Ned,
+lacking proper attire, had donned, not without misgivings, on Laurie's
+advice.) "Are you asleep? Put some life into it! Watch this ball, and
+when you see it roll, jump! You don't look like a cripple, but you
+surely act like one!"
+
+Toward the end a half-dozen last-year fellows took to punting, but, to
+Ned's relief, no one suggested that he take a hand at it, and at
+half-past five or thereabouts his trials came to an end. He went out of
+his way, dodging behind a group on the side-line, to escape Joe
+Stevenson, but ran plump into Frank Brattle instead.
+
+"Hello, Turner," Frank greeted. "How did it go?"
+
+"All right," replied Ned, with elaborate carelessness. "Fine."
+
+"Rather a nuisance having to go through the kindergarten stunts, isn't
+it?" continued the other, sympathetically. "Mulford's a great hand at
+what he calls the fundamentals, though. I dare say he's right, too. It's
+funny how easy it is to get out of the hang of things during the summer.
+I'm as stiff as a broom!"
+
+"So am I," answered Ned, earnestly and truthfully. Frank smiled, nodded,
+and wandered on, and Ned, sighting Laurie hunched up in the grand stand,
+joined him. "It's a bully game, football," he sighed, as he lowered
+himself cautiously to a seat and listened to hear his muscles creak.
+"Full of beneficial effects and all that." Laurie grinned in silence.
+Ned felt experimentally of his back, frowned, rocked himself backward
+and forward twice, and looked relieved. "I guess there's nothing
+actually broken," he murmured, "I dare say it'll be all right soon."
+
+"They say the first two months are the hardest," responded Laurie,
+comfortingly. "After that there's no sensation."
+
+Ned nodded. "I believe it," he said feelingly. He fixed his gaze on the
+farther goal-post and after a minute of silence remarked:
+
+"I'd like to catch the man who invented football!"
+
+He turned a challenging look on his brother. Laurie blinked and for
+several seconds his lips moved noiselessly and there was a haunted look
+in his gray eyes. Then, triumphantly, he completed the couplet: "It may
+suit some, but it doesn't suit all!"
+
+"Rotten!" said Ned.
+
+"I'd like to see you do any better," answered Laurie, aggrievedly.
+"There isn't any proper rhyme for 'football,' anyway."
+
+"Nor any reason for it, either. Of all--"
+
+"Hi, you fellow!" interrupted a scandalized voice. "What are you doing
+up there? Have you done your two laps?"
+
+The speaker was a lanky, red-haired man who bristled with authority and
+outrage.
+
+"Two laps?" stammered Ned. "No, sir."
+
+"Get at it, then. And beat it in when you have. Want to catch cold, do
+you? Sitting around without a blanket or anything like that!" The
+trainer shot a final disgusted look at the offender and went on.
+
+"Gee," murmured Ned, "I thought I was done! Two laps, he said! I'll
+never be able to, Laurie!"
+
+"Oh, yes, you will," was the cheerful response. "And while you're doing
+them you can think up a better rhyme for 'football' than I did!"
+
+Ned looked back reproachfully as he limped to the ground and, having
+gained the running-track, set off at a stiff-kneed jog. Laurie's
+expression relented as he watched.
+
+"Sort of tough on the kid," he muttered sympathetically. Then his face
+hardened again and he shook his head. "I've got to be stern with him,
+though!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI--NED IS FIRM
+
+
+Kewpie Proudtree obeyed the shouted invitation to enter Number 16 and
+appeared with a countenance as innocent as that of an infant. "Hello,
+fellows," he said cordially, dropping into a chair with indications of
+exhaustion. "How do you like it as far as you've gone?"
+
+Ned shifted in his seat at the study-table, choking back a groan, and
+fixed Kewpie with a baleful look. "Listen, Proudtree," he said sternly.
+"I've got a bone to pick with you!"
+
+"With me?" Kewpie stared in amazement. "What have I done?"
+
+"You've got me into a fix, that's what you've done! Didn't you ask
+me--us--last night not to let on to Stevenson that we--I--couldn't play
+football? Didn't you say it would be a favor to you? Didn't you say it
+would be all right and--and everything?"
+
+"Sure! What of it?"
+
+"Why, you crazy galoot, you must have told him that I knew all about the
+game! And you knew mighty well I didn't! Stevenson thinks I'm a wonder,
+and I don't know a touch-down from a--a forward kick!"
+
+"Pass, not kick," corrected Kewpie, patiently. "Look here, Turner-- Say,
+are you Ned or Laurie? Blessed if I can tell!"
+
+"Ned," replied that youth, with much dignity.
+
+"Guess I'll have to call you Ned, then. Can't call you both Turner. You
+understand. It was like this, Ned. You see, I want to stand in with Joe
+Stevenson. It--it's for the good of the school. If they don't play me at
+center this fall, who are they going to play? Well, Joe thought I--well,
+he seemed to think I hadn't acted just right about keeping my weight
+down. He--he was sort of peeved with me. So I wanted to smooth him down
+a bit. You understand. That's why I told him what I did."
+
+"Well, what _did_ you tell him?"
+
+"Why, I sort of--well, it wasn't what I _said_ exactly; it was what he
+thought I meant!"
+
+"Proudtree, you're telling a whopper," said Ned, sternly. "And you told
+one to Stevenson, too, or I miss my guess."
+
+"I only said that you were a swell football-player."
+
+"For the love of lemons! What do you call that but a whopper?"
+
+Kewpie looked both ashamed and distressed. He swallowed hard and glanced
+furtively at Laurie as though hoping for aid. But Laurie looked as
+unsympathetic as Ned. Kewpie sighed dolefully. "I--I suppose it was," he
+acknowledged. "I didn't think about that. I'm sorry, Ned, honest! I
+didn't mean to tell what wasn't so. I just wanted to get Joe's mind off
+his troubles. You understand."
+
+"Well, you got me in a mess," grumbled Ned. "I got by all right to-day,
+I suppose, but what's going to happen to-morrow?"
+
+Kewpie evidently didn't know, for he stared morosely at the floor for a
+long minute. Finally, "I'll go to Joe and fess up if--if you say so," he
+gulped.
+
+"I think you ought to," responded Ned.
+
+"Where's the sense in that?" demanded Laurie. "What good would it do?
+Proudtree did fib, but he didn't mean to. I mean he didn't do it for
+harm. If he goes and tells Stevenson that he fibbed, Stevenson will have
+it in for him harder than ever; and he will have it in for you, too,
+Ned. Maybe he will think it was a scheme that you and Proudtree hatched
+together. That's a punk idea, I say. Best thing to do is prove that
+Proudtree didn't fib."
+
+"How?" asked Ned.
+
+"Why, Proudtree--"
+
+"There's an awful lot of that 'Proudtree' stuff," complained the
+visitor. "Would you mind calling me Kewpie?"
+
+"All right. Well, Kewpie told Captain Stevenson that you are a swell
+player. Go ahead and be one."
+
+"Huh, sounds easy the way you say it," scoffed Ned; "but how can I, when
+I don't know anything about the silly game? I wish to goodness you'd
+taken up football instead of me!"
+
+"You got through to-day all right, didn't you?" asked Laurie. "Well,
+keep it up. Keep your eyes open and learn. You can do it. You're no
+fool, even if you haven't my intellect. Besides, you're the best little
+fakir that ever came over the range."
+
+"You can't fake kicking a football," said Ned, scathingly.
+
+"Look here!" exclaimed Kewpie, his round face illumined by a great idea.
+"Tell you what, Ned! I'll show you how to kick!"
+
+The silence that greeted the offer might have offended a more sensitive
+youth, but Kewpie went on with enthusiasm. "Of course, I'm no wonder at
+it. I'm a little too short in the leg and, right now, I--I'm a bit
+heavy; but I used to kick and I know how it ought to be done. Say we
+have a half-hour or so at it every morning for a while?"
+
+"Wouldn't Stevenson know what was up?" asked Ned, dubiously.
+
+"He needn't know. We'll go over to the lot behind the grammar school.
+Even if he saw us, he'd think we were having some fun."
+
+"He must have a strange idea of fun," sighed Ned. "Still, if you want to
+take the trouble--"
+
+"Glad to! Besides, I owe you something for--for getting you in wrong.
+And I can put you wise to a lot of little things about handling a ball.
+We could do some passing, for instance. Wonder who's got a ball we could
+borrow. I'll find one somewhere. You understand. Now, what hour have you
+got free in the morning?"
+
+A comparison of schedules showed that on two mornings a week the boys
+could meet at ten, and on two other mornings at ten-thirty. The
+remaining days were not accommodating, however.
+
+"Well, even four times a week will show results," said Kewpie,
+cheerfully. "This is Thursday. We'll have the first lesson Saturday at
+ten."
+
+"I hope they don't ask me to do any kicking before then," said Ned.
+
+"Not likely. You'll get about the same stuff to-morrow as you had
+to-day. You'll get by, take my word for it. That's settled, then."
+Kewpie referred to an ornate gold wrist-watch. "It's after eight. You're
+going over to Johnny's, aren't you!"
+
+"Johnny's?" repeated Laurie. "Oh, Doctor Hillman's! I suppose so. What's
+it like?"
+
+"Oh, it isn't bad. The eats are pretty fair. Anyway, he sort of likes
+the fellows to go, and he's a good sort. You'll be introduced to the
+faculty and their wives, if they have any, and meet a lot of fellows
+whose names you'll forget the next minute. Take my advice and sort of
+work in toward the dining-room. Last year, the harlequin ice-cream gave
+out before I could get to the table." Kewpie sighed. "Tabby has bully
+cake, too, and I'm off of cake. Isn't that rotten luck?"
+
+"Awful!" laughed Ned. "You going over now?"
+
+"Yes. Come on and I'll introduce you to some of the fellows you ought to
+know. I'll wash my dirty paws and meet you in two minutes."
+
+The principal's reception proved rather enjoyable. The "eats" were
+excellent and, under Kewpie's guidance, the twins reached the long table
+in the dining-room well in advance of the crowd. As Laurie remarked
+afterward, it was worth the amount of trouble involved just to watch
+Kewpie's mouth water as he gazed soulfully at the chocolate layer-cake.
+To his credit be it narrated that he manfully resisted it. Besides
+consuming much delectable food, the twins were impressively introduced
+by their guide to a number of their fellow-students, the introduction
+being prefaced in each case by a sort of biographical note, as: "There's
+Dan Whipple. The tall fellow with the trick collar, talking to Mrs.
+Wells. Rows stroke on the crew. Senior class president. Honor man last
+year. President of Attic, too. Good chap to know. Come on." In such
+manner they met at least a half-dozen school notables, most of whom were
+extremely affable to the new boys. Sometimes, to be sure, the twins had
+a suspicion that Kewpie was pretending a closer intimacy with a notable
+than in fact existed, but he always "got away with it."
+
+The only fly in the ointment of the evening's enjoyment occurred when
+Kewpie mischievously introduced them to Mrs. Pennington, the wife of the
+Greek and Latin instructor, and sneaked away. Mrs. Pennington was tall
+and extremely thin, and viewed the world through a pair of
+tortoise-shell spectacles. She had a high voice and what Ned termed a
+"very Lake Superior" manner, and, since she confined her conversation to
+the benefits to be derived from an earnest study of the Latin poets,
+philosophers, and historians, the twins were not happy. Fortunately,
+very little was demanded from them conversationally, Mrs. Pennington
+being quite competent to do all the talking. But, unfortunately, she
+gave them no chance to get away. Ned descried Kewpie grinning
+heartlessly from the doorway and rewarded him with a terrific and
+threatening scowl. Kewpie, however, waved blandly and faded into the
+night. Release came to them at last and they scurried away, neglecting,
+in their hurried departure, to say good night either to the doctor or
+Miss Tabitha, a breach of etiquette which probably passed unnoted by the
+hosts. Back in East Hall, the twins hammered loudly at Number 15, but
+Kewpie was either absent or discreet. At any rate, there was no
+response, and revenge had to be postponed.
+
+To Laurie's surprise, a notice on the bulletin-board in the corridor of
+School Hall the following morning announced that autumn baseball
+practice would begin that afternoon. He had supposed that his hour to
+offer himself on the altar of school patriotism would not arrive until
+the next spring; and later, when he strode down Walnut Street with Ned,
+in search of football togs for the latter, he broached the subject
+diplomatically.
+
+"Funny idea to have baseball practice this time of year, I think," he
+remarked carelessly. "Not much good in it. A fellow would forget
+anything he learned by next April."
+
+"Didn't know they did," replied Ned, uninterestedly. "Who told you
+that?"
+
+"Oh, there was a notice on the board in School Hall. Don't believe many
+fellows go out in the fall."
+
+"Thought baseball was a spring and summer game. Still, I dare say you
+can play it just as well now. Seems to me I've heard of having spring
+football practice, haven't you?"
+
+"I dare say. Crazy scheme, though, playing games out of season."
+
+"Ye-es." Ned went on thoughtfully a moment Then he shot a suspicious
+glance at his brother. "You going out?" he demanded.
+
+"N-no, I don't think so," answered Laurie, lightly. "There's that
+building we had the bet on the other day. We never did find out--"
+
+"Never you mind about that building," interrupted Ned, severely. "I'm on
+to you, partner. You're trying to renege on baseball. Well, it doesn't
+go! You're a baseball hero and you've got to get busy!"
+
+"Aw, Ned, have a heart! There's plenty of time--"
+
+"No, sir, by jiminy! You got me slaving for the dear old school, now you
+do your bit!"
+
+"Yes, but it isn't fair to start the baseball season in September. You
+know it isn't."
+
+"Cut out the alibis! You can get some baseball togs right now. Good
+thing you spoke of it. What'll you need?"
+
+"All I need is kindness," wailed Laurie. "Ned, I don't want to be a
+hero! I don't want to save the dear old school from defeat in the ninth
+inning! I--I--"
+
+"You're going to do as you agreed to," answered Ned, grimly. "Remember
+that the honor of the Turners is at stake!"
+
+Laurie sighed deeply. Then, "You speak of honor! Say no more. I yield,"
+he declaimed dramatically.
+
+"You bet you do," answered Ned, unhesitatingly. "You for the baseball
+field!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII--HIGH SCHOOL ACCEPTS DEFEAT
+
+
+A week passed, and the twins began to feel like old residents. They had
+ceased being "the Turner twins" to acquaintances, although others still
+referred to them so, and their novelty had so far worn off that they
+could enter a classroom or walk side by side across the yard without
+being conscious of the rapt, almost incredulous stares of the beholders.
+To merely casual acquaintances they were known as Ned and Laurie; to a
+few friends they had become Nid and Nod. Kewpie was responsible for
+that. He had corrupted "Ned" into "Nid," after which it was impossible
+for Laurie to be anything but "Nod." Laurie had demurred for a time,
+demanding to be informed who Nod had been. Kewpie couldn't tell him,
+being of the hazy belief that Nid and Nod were brothers in some fairy
+story he had once read, but he earnestly assured Laurie that both had
+been most upright and wholly estimable persons. Anyhow, Laurie's
+objections wouldn't have accomplished much, for others had been prompt
+to adopt the nicknames and all the protests in the world wouldn't have
+caused them to drop them. These others weren't many in number, however:
+Kewpie and Thurman Kendrick and Lee Murdock and George Watson about made
+up the list of them at this time.
+
+Kendrick was Kewpie's room-mate, a smallish, black-haired, very earnest
+youth of sixteen, which age was also Kewpie's. Thurman was familiarly
+known as "Hop," although the twins never learned why. He was a candidate
+for quarter-back on the eleven and took his task very seriously. Lee
+Murdock was one of the baseball crowd, and Laurie had scraped
+acquaintance with him on the diamond during a practice game. The word
+"scraped" is used advisedly, for Laurie, in sliding to second base, had
+spiked much of the skin from Lee's ankle. Of such incidents are
+friendships formed! Lee was two years older than Laurie, a big, rather
+raw-boned fellow with a mop of ash-colored hair and very bright blue
+eyes.
+
+George Watson was sixteen, an upper middler, and, as Laurie frequently
+assured him, no fit associate for a respectable fellow. To the latter
+assertion George cheerfully agreed, adding that he always avoided such.
+He came from Wyoming and had brought with him a breeziness of manner
+that his acquaintances, rightly or wrongly, described as "wild and
+woolly." Of the four, Kewpie and George were more often found in company
+with the twins.
+
+There had been four lessons in kicking on an open lot behind the grammar
+school, two short blocks away, and while Ned had not yet mastered the
+gentle art of hurtling a football through the air, Kewpie was
+enthusiastic about his pupil's progress. "Why, geewhillikins, Nid," he
+broke forth after the fourth session, "you're a born kicker! Honest you
+are! You've got a corking swing and a lot of drive. You--you've got real
+_form_, that's what you've got. You understand. And you certainly do
+learn! Of course, you haven't got it all from me, because you've been
+punting in practice two or three times, but I take some of the credit."
+
+"You've got a right to," responded Ned. "You've taught me a lot more
+than I've learned on the field. Gee, if it hadn't been for you I'd been
+afraid even to try a punt over there! You ought to see the puzzled way
+that Pope looks at me sometimes. He can't seem to make me out, because,
+I suppose, Joe Stevenson told him I was a crackajack. Yesterday he said,
+'You get good distance, Turner, and your direction isn't bad, but you
+never punt twice the same way!'"
+
+"Well, you don't," laughed Kewpie. "But you'll get over that just as
+soon as I can get it into your thick head that the right way's the best
+and there's only one right!"
+
+"I know," said Ned, humbly. "I mean to do the way you say, but I sort of
+forget."
+
+"That's because you try to think of too many things at once. Stop
+thinking about your leg and just remember the ball and keep your eyes on
+it until it's in the air. That's the secret, Nid. I heard Joe telling
+Pinky the other day that you'd ought to shape up well for next year."
+
+"Next year!" exclaimed Ned, dubiously. "Gee! mean to tell me I'm going
+through all this work for next year?"
+
+"Well, you might get a place this year, for all you know," replied
+Kewpie, soothingly. "Just keep on coming, Nid. If you could only--well,
+if you had just a bit more _speed_ now, got started quicker, you know,
+Pinky would have you on the second squad in no time, I believe. You're
+all right after you get started, but--you understand."
+
+"I do the best I know how," sighed Ned. "I suppose I am slow on the
+get-away, though. Corson is always calling me down about it. Oh, well,
+what do I care? I don't own it."
+
+"I'd like to see you make good, though," said Kewpie. "Besides, remember
+the honor of the Turners!"
+
+Ned laughed. "Laurie will look after that. He's doing great things in
+baseball, if you believe him, and it wouldn't be right for us to capture
+all the athletic honors."
+
+"You make me weary!" grunted Kewpie. "Say, don't you California chaps
+ever have any pep?"
+
+"California, old scout, is famous for its pep. We grow it for market out
+there. Why, I've seen a hundred acres planted to it!"
+
+"You have, eh? Well, it's a big shame you didn't bring a sprig of it
+East with you, you lazy lummox! Some day I'm going to drop a cockle-burr
+down your back and see if you don't show some action!"
+
+Hillman's started her season on the following Saturday with Orstead High
+School. As neither team had seen much practice, the contest didn't show
+a very high grade of football. The teams played four ten-minute
+quarters, consuming a good two hours of elapsed time in doing it, their
+members spending many precious moments prone on the turf. The weather
+was miserably warm for football and the players were still pretty soft.
+
+Kewpie derived great satisfaction from the subsequent discovery that he
+had dropped three quarter pounds and was within a mere seven pounds of
+his desired weight. Had he played the game through instead of yielding
+the center position to Holmes at the beginning of the last half, he
+might have reached his goal that afternoon. Ned and Laurie wounded him
+deeply by declaring that there was no apparent improvement in his
+appearance.
+
+Ned saw the game from the substitutes' bench, and Laurie from the stand.
+High School turned out a full attendance and, since Hillman's was
+outnumbered two to one, "O. H. S." colors and cheers predominated.
+Laurie sat with Lee Murdock, who, as a baseball enthusiast, professed a
+great scorn of football. (There was no practice on the diamond that
+afternoon.) Lee amused himself by making ridiculous comments in a voice
+audible for many yards around.
+
+"That's piffle!" he declared on one occasion, when the ground was strewn
+with tired, panting players. "The umpire said, 'Third down,' but if they
+aren't three quarters down, I'll treat the crowd! The trouble with those
+fellows is that they didn't get enough sleep last night. Any one can see
+that. Why, I can hear that big chap snoring 'way over here!" Again,
+"That brother of yours is playing better than any of them," he asserted.
+
+"Ned? Why, he isn't in! He's on the bench down there."
+
+"Sure! That's what I mean. You don't see him grabbing the ball away from
+Brattle and losing two or three yards at a time. No, sir; he just sits
+right there, half asleep, and makes High School _work_ for the game.
+Every time he doesn't take the ball, Nod, he saves us three or four
+yards. He's a hero, that's what he is. If Mulford would get all the rest
+of them back on the bench, we might win."
+
+"You're crazy," laughed Laurie.
+
+During the intermission, Laurie's wandering gaze fell on two girls a
+dozen seats away. One, whom he had never seen before, displayed a
+cherry-and-black pennant and belonged unmistakably to the high school
+cohort. She was a rather jolly-looking girl, Laurie decided, with a good
+deal of straw-colored hair and a pink-and-white skin. Her companion was
+evidently divided as to allegiance, for she had a cherry-and-black
+ribbon pinned on the front of her dress and wore a dark-blue silken
+arm-band. For a moment Laurie wondered why she looked familiar to him.
+Then he recognized her as Polly Deane. The two girls appeared to be
+alone, although some boys in the row behind were talking to them.
+
+So far, the twins had not been back to the little shop on Pine Street,
+but Laurie resolved now that he would drop around there very soon and
+pay his bill before his money was gone. After paying the school bill for
+the first half-year, he and Ned had shared slightly more than twenty
+dollars, but since then there had been many expenses. They had each had
+to purchase playing togs and stationery, and, finally, had donated two
+dollars apiece to the football fund at the mass-meeting Friday night of
+the week before.
+
+Viewed from a financial standpoint, that meeting hadn't been a great
+success, and it was no secret that, unless more money was forthcoming,
+the team would be obliged to cancel at least one of its away-from-home
+games. But it had resulted in bringing out a big field of candidates,
+and there had been a lot of enthusiasm. The next day, viewing his
+reduced exchequer, Laurie had ruefully observed that he guessed a dollar
+would have been enough to give, but Ned had called him a "piker" and a
+"tight-wad" and other scornful things. Yesterday Ned had borrowed half a
+dollar, which was more than a fourth of Laurie's remaining cash; and the
+first of October was still a week distant. Realizing the latter fact,
+Laurie changed his mind about settling his account at the Widow Deane's.
+But, he reflected, with another friendly glance in Polly's direction, it
+wouldn't be right to withhold his trade from the store. And he wasn't
+anywhere near the limit of indebtedness yet!
+
+Two listless periods followed the intermission, the only inspiring
+incident coming when, near the end of the third quarter, Pope, Hillman's
+full-back, foiled in his attempt to get a forward pass away, smashed
+past the enemy and around his left end for a run that placed the pigskin
+six yards short of the last white line. From there the home team managed
+to push its way to a touch-down, the third and last score of the day.
+The final figures were 10 to 7 in Hillman's favor, and neither side was
+very proud of the outcome.
+
+Ned returned to Number 16 half an hour later in a most critical frame of
+mind, and spent ten minutes explaining to Laurie just when and how the
+school team had failed. At last Laurie interrupted him to ask, "Have you
+told this to Mr. Mulford, Ned?"
+
+"Mr. Mulford? Why--oh, go to the dickens!"
+
+"Seems to me he ought to know," said Laurie, gravely.
+
+"That's all right. You can be sarcastic if you like, but I'm talking
+horse-sense. You see a lot of things from the bench that you don't see
+from the stand. Besides, you've got to know football to understand it.
+Now you take--"
+
+"I beg your pardon! Did you say anything about understanding football?"
+
+"Well, I understand a lot more about it than you do," replied the other,
+warmly. "I've been playing it a week, haven't I?"
+
+"Sure, but I'll bet you don't know how much a safety counts!"
+
+"I don't need to. That's up to the referee. But I know some football,
+just the same. And I punted forty-seven yards yesterday, too!"
+
+"In how many punts?" inquired Laurie, innocently.
+
+Ned threw a book at him and the subject was closed.
+
+In his own line, baseball, Laurie was not setting the world on fire. He
+was gaining a familiarity with the position of center fielder on the
+scrub nine, and batting practice was at least not doing him any harm.
+But he certainly had displayed no remarkable ability; and if Ned had
+gained a notion to the contrary, it was merely because it pleased Laurie
+to fool him with accounts of imaginary incidents in which he, Laurie,
+had shone most brilliantly. As Ned knew even less about baseball than he
+had known of football, almost any fairy-tale "went" with him, and Laurie
+derived much amusement thereby; decidedly more, in fact, than he derived
+from playing!
+
+On Monday morning Laurie dragged Ned over to the Widow Deane's for
+ginger-ale, professing a painful thirst. The Widow greeted them
+pleasantly, recalling their names, and provided them with the requested
+beverage. Laurie's thirst seemed to have passed, for he had difficulty
+in consuming his portion. When, presently, he asked politely about
+Polly, it developed that that young lady was quite well enough to attend
+high school as usual. Laurie said, "Oh!" and silently promised himself
+that the next time he got thirsty it would be in the afternoon. Ned ate
+two doughnuts and was hesitating over raspberry tarts when Laurie
+dragged him away. "Can't you think of anything but eating?" demanded the
+latter, disgustedly. Ned only blinked.
+
+"Ginger-ale always makes me hungry," he explained calmly.
+
+Two days later, the twins awoke to cloudy skies, and by mid-forenoon a
+lazy drizzle was falling, which later turned to a downright tempest of
+wind and rain. At four the baseball candidates scooted to the
+field-house for cover, although, peering forth through a drenched
+window, Laurie discerned the football-players still at work. Lee Murdock
+said he guessed the equinoctial storm had come, and that if it had
+there'd be no practice for a couple of days. Laurie tried to look
+broken-hearted and failed dismally. Taking advantage of a lull in the
+downpour, he and Lee, with many of the others, set forth for school.
+They were still far short of the gymnasium, however, when the torrent
+began again, and it was a wet, bedraggled, and breathless crowd that
+presently pushed through the door.
+
+George Watson, who had been playing tennis before the rain started, was
+philosophically regarding a pair of "unshrinkable" flannel trousers
+which, so he declared, had already receded an inch at the bottoms. It
+was George who suggested that, after changing to dry clothing, they go
+over to the Widow's and have ice-cream at his expense. Not possessing a
+rain-coat of his own, Laurie invaded Number 15 and borrowed Kewpie's. It
+was many sizes too large, but it answered. The Widow's was full when he
+and George and Lee got there, and the pastry counter looked as though it
+had been visited by an invading army. There was still ice-cream, though,
+and the three squeezed into a corner and became absorbedly silent for a
+space.
+
+Polly was helping her mother, and Laurie exchanged greetings with her,
+but she was far too busy for conversation. Lee treated to a second round
+of ice-cream, and afterward Laurie bought a bag of old-fashioned
+chocolates. He hoped Polly would wait on him, but it was Polly's mother
+who did so and asked after his brother as she filled the paper sack.
+
+"I do hope you're looking after him and that he hasn't eaten those
+raspberry tarts yet," she said pleasantly.
+
+"Yes'm," said Laurie. "I mean, he hasn't." He thought it surprising that
+the Widow Deane was able to tell them apart. Even Kewpie and George
+frequently made mistakes.
+
+It was still pouring when they went out again, and they hurried up the
+street and around the corner into School Park, their progress somewhat
+delayed by the fact that Laurie had placed the bag of candy in an
+outside pocket of Kewpie's capacious rain-coat and that all three had
+difficulty in finding it. Lee had just popped a big chocolate into his
+mouth and George was fumbling into the moist bag when the clouds opened
+suddenly and such a deluge fell as made them gasp. In distance they were
+but a long block from school; but with the rain descending on them as
+though poured from a million buckets, their thought was of immediate
+shelter.
+
+"Wow!" yelped Lee. "Let's get out of this! Here's a house. Come on!"
+
+There was an opening in a high hedge, and a short brick walk from which
+the drops were rebounding knee-high, and, seen dimly through the deluge,
+a porch at the end of it. They reached it in what Laurie called three
+leaps and a jump, and, under shelter of the roof, drew breath and looked
+back into the gray welter. The park was invisible, and even the high
+lilac hedge was only a blurred shape. Lee had to shout to make himself
+heard above the rain.
+
+"Wonder who lives here," he said. "I don't remember this house."
+
+"Sure you do!" said George. "This is the Coventry house. We're on the
+side porch."
+
+"Oh!" Lee gazed doubtfully into the rain. "Well, anyway, it'll do. Gee,
+my trousers are soaked to the knees! How long do you suppose this will
+keep up?"
+
+"You said for two days," answered Laurie, cheerfully, trying to dry his
+neck with a moist handkerchief.
+
+"I mean this shower, you chump!"
+
+"Call this a shower? What's a cloud-burst like in this part of the
+country, then?"
+
+"We don't have such things," answered George, who was peering through a
+side-light into the dim interior. "Say, I thought this place was empty,"
+he continued. "I can see chairs and a table in there."
+
+"No; some one rented it this fall," said Lee. "I noticed the other day
+that the front door was open and the grass had been cut. I wouldn't want
+to live in the place, though."
+
+"Why?" inquired Laurie.
+
+But, before any answer came, the door was suddenly opened within a few
+inches of George's nose and a voice said:
+
+"You fellows had better come inside until it's over."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII--IN THE MISER'S HOUSE
+
+
+The invitation came from a boy of about sixteen, a slim, eminently
+attractive chap, who smiled persuasively through the aperture. Laurie
+knew that he had seen him somewhere, but it was not until they had
+followed, somewhat protestingly, into a hallway and from there into a
+large and shadowy drawing-room that he recognized him as one of the day
+pupils. Lee, it seemed, knew him slightly and called him by name.
+
+"We oughtn't to come in here," Lee apologized. "We're soaking wet,
+Starling."
+
+"It doesn't matter," answered their host. "Wait till I find a match and
+we'll have a fire here."
+
+"Don't bother, please," George protested. "We're going right on in a
+minute."
+
+"Might as well get dry a bit first. The fire's all laid." The boy held a
+match at the grate and in a moment the wood was snapping merrily. "Pull
+up some chairs, fellows. Here, try this. Some rain, isn't it?"
+
+"Rather," agreed Lee. "By the way, do you know Turner? And Watson?" The
+three boys shook hands. "I didn't know you lived here," Lee continued.
+"Saw the house had been taken, but didn't know who had it. Corking big
+place, isn't it?"
+
+Starling laughed. "It's big all right, but it's not so corking. Let me
+have that rain-coat, Turner. The rooms are so frightfully huge that you
+get lost in them! I have the bedroom above this, and the first morning I
+woke up in it I thought I was in the Sahara Desert! This was the only
+place we could find, though, that was for rent, and we had to take it.
+Dad came here on short notice and we didn't have much time to look
+around. Pull up closer to the fire, Watson, and get your feet dry. I've
+got some slippers upstairs if you want to take your shoes off."
+
+"No, thanks. I guess the wet didn't get through. I've seen you over at
+school, haven't I?"
+
+"Yes, I'm a day boy; one of the 'Hep, heps!'"
+
+Lee grinned. "Sort of a mean trick, that, Starling, but they always do
+it every year."
+
+"Wish I'd known about it beforehand. I'd have sneaked over a fence and
+through a window. It was fierce! I was the last fellow to get in this
+fall. Dad made application in August, and some fellow who had entered in
+the spring changed his mind; otherwise I'd have had to go to the high
+school."
+
+"That would have been an awful fate," said George, gravely.
+
+"Oh, I wouldn't have minded. I like Hillman's, though. Do any of you
+chaps play tennis?"
+
+"I try to," answered George.
+
+"Wish you'd give me a game some day. Tennis is about the only thing I
+know much about, and I saw some dandy courts over at the field."
+
+"Glad to," George assured him. "Any day you like, Starling. I'm not much
+of a player, though, so don't expect a lot."
+
+"Guess you're good enough to handle me," laughed the other. "I like it
+better than I can play it. How about to-morrow afternoon?"
+
+"Suits me," answered George. "Three-thirty?"
+
+"Fine! I'm going to get Dad to build a court in the yard here, if I can.
+There's lots of room, but there's a tumble-down old grape-arbor right in
+the middle."
+
+"Yes, there's surely room enough," agreed Lee. "We used to come over
+here last fall and get pears--there's a dandy seckel tree back there.
+I'd say there was room for two or three courts if some of the trees were
+cut down."
+
+"What could he do with three of them?" asked Laurie.
+
+"I suppose we'd have to get the owner's permission to even take that
+rickety old arbor down," Starling said.
+
+"I thought the owner was dead," Lee observed.
+
+George chuckled. "If he was dead he wouldn't be the owner, you simple!
+Old Coventry died three or four years ago, but somebody owns the place,
+of course. If what they tell of the old chap is true, it must have
+broken his heart to know he couldn't take the place with him! Maybe he
+took his money with him, though. Anyway, the story goes that he had
+slathers of it, and they could only find a couple of thousands when he
+died."
+
+"What was he, a miser?" asked Starling.
+
+"Yes, one of the sort you read about in the stories. Lived here all
+alone for years and years with only a negro servant. They say you could
+never see a light in the place at night, and he never went off the front
+porch more than a couple of times a year. Then a carriage came for him
+and he got in and went down to the boat. He didn't use the train because
+it cost too much. Of course, when he died, folks expected to find that
+he had left a mint of money; but all any one could discover was about
+two thousand dollars in one of the banks here--that, and this property.
+The heirs, whoever they were, pretty near tore the insides out of the
+house, they say, looking for coin, but they didn't get any thing."
+
+"And at night the old codger's ghost walks around," added Lee; "and if
+you follow him, he'll take you to the place the money's hidden."
+
+"Honest?" exclaimed Starling, joyfully. "Gosh, that's great! I always
+wanted to live in a house with a ghost."
+
+"I'm sorry, then," said George, "for I just made that part up."
+
+"_You_ did?" Lee looked incredulous. "Where do you come in? I've heard
+that ever since I came here."
+
+"No, sir; you may have heard the rest of the story, but not the part
+about the ghost. I wrote the yarn up in my junior year for an English
+comp., and tacked on the ghost feature as a sort of added climax. Got
+good marks, too, and the Orstead paper published the thing. I'll show it
+to you, if you like."
+
+Lee looked unconvinced still, and Starling disappointed. "Well, it's a
+good story, anyway, and makes the place more interesting. Some day I'll
+have a look myself for the hidden millions."
+
+"Guess the old chap never had that much," said George. "Thirty or forty
+thousand is about what he was supposed to have salted away."
+
+"Scarcely worth bothering about," observed Laurie, with a yawn.
+
+"But look here, what became of the servant?" asked Starling. "Maybe he
+got the dough and made off with it."
+
+"Lots of folks thought that," replied George; "but the theory didn't pan
+out for a cent. The negro stuck around here for quite a while and then
+ambled off somewhere. He claimed that old Coventry died owing him a
+month's wages, and tried to get some one to pay him, but I guess he
+never got any of it, if it was really owing."
+
+"Where did he go to?" asked Starling.
+
+"I don't know. New York City, I think."
+
+"I'll bet he either had the money or knew where it was," declared
+Starling, with conviction. "Don't you see, fellows, he did just what any
+one would do in his case? He stuck around so he wouldn't be suspected.
+If he'd gone right off, folks would have said he was trying to avoid
+being asked about the money. And then he faked up the yarn about the old
+gentleman owing him wages. A first-class detective would have got trace
+of the coin, I'll wager!"
+
+"You've been reading _Sherlock Holmes_," laughed Lee. "Why don't you
+follow up your clue, find the negro, and restore the lost wealth to the
+starving heirs?"
+
+"Huh! If he did get the money, he's where even _Sherlock Holmes_
+wouldn't find him by this time. Some one should have followed the fellow
+and kept watch on him right then. How old was he, Watson?"
+
+"About fifty, I guess. They say he had white whiskers, anyway. Oh, he
+didn't know any more than he said he did. He was all right. He had been
+with old Coventry for years and years, one of those old-time family
+servants, you know, honest and faithful. Why, he went on something
+fierce when the old chap died!"
+
+"Say, how much of this guff is real and how much of it is English
+composition?" asked Lee, suspiciously. "How do you know the negro took
+on when the old codger died? You weren't here."
+
+"Maybe I heard it," replied George, grinning.
+
+"Yes, and maybe you just made it up, like the stuff about the ghost,"
+Lee retorted sarcastically. "I've heard the yarn two or three times, but
+I never heard that the negro had white whiskers or that he went into
+mourning!"
+
+"It's a fact, though," declared the other, warmly. "I prepared mighty
+well on that comp.; talked with half a dozen persons who knew the story.
+Got most of the stuff from the Widow Deane, though. Old Coventry had
+been dead only about two years then and folks were still talking about
+him. The Widow doesn't think the old chap had nearly as much money as he
+was supposed to have."
+
+"She has the little store around on the back street?" asked Starling.
+
+"Yes. She took that as her share."
+
+"Her share of what?" demanded Lee.
+
+"Why, of the estate. Old Coventry owned the whole half-block right
+through from Walnut Street to Pine. She rented that house from him until
+he died; paid a good stiff price, too; and then, when the estate was
+finally settled, she took it as her share, although she had to pay the
+other heirs something because they claimed that it was worth more than
+she had a right to."
+
+"Look here," said Lee, "do you mean that the Widow Deane was one of old
+Coventry's heirs?"
+
+"Of course! Didn't you know it? She was a half-sister. She lived over in
+New Jersey, she told me, until her husband died. Then she wrote to old
+Coventry, asking him to help her because she didn't have much money, and
+he invited her to come here. She thought he meant to give her a home
+with him; but when she got here, the best he would do was rent her that
+little house around on Pine Street and stock it up for her as a store.
+Then he built a fence between the two places. It used to be open right
+through."
+
+"Gee, you certainly know a lot of ancient history!" marveled Lee.
+
+"I believe in being thorough," laughed George. "When I tackle a subject
+I get a fall out of it."
+
+"So when I trail the murderer--I mean the thief," reflected Starling,
+"I'll be doing the old lady back there a good turn, won't I?"
+
+"Surest thing you know!" agreed George.
+
+"And she needs the money, I guess. I don't believe she makes a fortune
+out of that emporium. And that daughter of hers is a nice kid, too."
+
+"How many other heirs are there to share in the money when Starling
+finds it?" asked Laurie.
+
+"I don't know. Quite a bunch, I believe. The old chap wasn't married,
+and the heirs are nephews and nieces and things like that. The Widow's
+the only one living around here, though."
+
+"Well, when I do find it," laughed Starling, "I'll keep it quiet and
+hand it all over to the Widow."
+
+"He wants to make a hit with Polly," said Lee. "He's a fox."
+
+"I've never seen her," Starling denied.
+
+"Well, she's a mighty pretty girl," George avowed. "If you don't believe
+me, ask Nod."
+
+Laurie looked intensely innocent and very surprised. "Why me?" he asked
+blandly.
+
+George shook his head, grinning. "You can't get away with it, son! Think
+I didn't see you making love to the old lady this afternoon?"
+
+"Well," Laurie laughed, "I thought it was Polly you spoke of."
+
+"Sure, but she was busy waiting on a bunch of juniors and so you made up
+to the Widow. We saw you smirking and talking sweet to her, didn't we,
+Lee? Butter wouldn't have melted in the dear lamb's mouth. And I thought
+the old lady seemed rather taken with him, too; didn't you, Lee?"
+
+"Rather! It was positively sickening! Talk about foxes--"
+
+"Oh, dry up and blow away!" muttered Laurie. "Say, the rain's stopped
+now--pretty nearly."
+
+"Wants to get away from the embarrassing subject," George confided to
+Starling. "Well, I never desert a pal, Nod. Come on, we'll trot along.
+Much obliged for taking us in, Starling. Hope we haven't ruined your
+rug. Half-past three to-morrow, if the courts are dry. I'll meet you in
+School Hall."
+
+"Glad to have you drop around at my room some time," said Lee. "I'm in
+West; Number 7."
+
+"Same here," added Laurie; "16 East Hall. Thanks, Starling."
+
+"You're welcome. Come in again, fellows. When I get that tennis-court
+fixed up, we'll have some fun here. You needn't wait for that, though.
+I'd like you to meet my father and aunt. No one's at home just now. I
+say, better take a couple of umbrellas."
+
+"Not worth it, thanks," answered Lee. "After that deluge, this is just
+an April shower. So long!"
+
+Lee's statement wasn't much of an exaggeration, and the three continued
+their way to the school unhurriedly. George remarked gloomily that it
+didn't look awfully promising for tennis on the morrow, adding: "I'll
+bet that chap's a corking good player, too."
+
+"Maybe you'll learn a little about the game from him," said Laurie,
+sweetly. "How old do you say he is?"
+
+"Starling? Oh, seventeen, maybe. He's in upper middle."
+
+"Sixteen, more likely," said George. "He seems a decent sort, eh? How
+did you come to know him?"
+
+"I didn't really know him. He's in some of my classes and we've spoken a
+couple of times. Rather a--an interesting kind of chap. Wonder what his
+father does here. Funny place for him to come to. He spoke of an aunt,
+but didn't say anything about a mother. Guess she's dead. Auntie
+probably keeps house for them."
+
+As they entered the gate George chuckled and Laurie asked, "What's your
+trouble, Old-Timer!"
+
+"I was just thinking what a joke it would be if Starling took that stuff
+seriously about the hidden money and began to hack away the woodwork and
+dig up the cellar floor!"
+
+"Why, wasn't it true?"
+
+"Sure! At least, as true as anything is that folks tell. You know, Nod,
+after being repeated a couple of hundred times a story sort of grows."
+
+Lee grunted. "After some smart Aleck has written it up as an English
+comp. its own mother wouldn't know it! The real joke would be for
+Starling to wreck the woodwork and find the money!"
+
+"No, that wouldn't be a joke," said George, "that would be a movie! Come
+on! It's starting again! Last man in East buys the sodas! Come on, Lee!"
+
+Lee and Laurie ran a dead heat, and all the way to George's room, on the
+second floor, each sought to shift to the other the responsibility of
+providing the soda-water for the trio. In the end, George appointed
+himself referee and halved the responsibility between them.
+
+When, twenty minutes later, Laurie climbed onward to Number 16, he found
+a very disgruntled Ned curled up in the window-seat, which was now
+plentifully supplied with cushions. "Where've you been all the
+afternoon?" he demanded aggrievedly.
+
+"Many places," replied Laurie, cheerfully. "Why the grouch?"
+
+"You'd have a grouch, I reckon, if you'd messed around with a soggy
+football for almost two hours in a cloud-burst!"
+
+"Did you--er--get wet?"
+
+"Oh, no, I didn't get wet! I carried an umbrella all the time, you silly
+toad! Or maybe you think they roofed the gridiron over for us?"
+
+"Well, I got sort of water-logged myself, and don't you let any one tell
+you any different! Wait till I return this rain-coat and I'll tell you
+about it."
+
+"I've got troubles enough of my own," grumbled Ned, as Laurie crossed
+the corridor.
+
+Kewpie wasn't in when the borrowed garment was returned, but Hop
+Kendrick was, and Hop said it was quite all right, that Ned was welcome
+to anything of Kewpie's at any time, and please just stick it in the
+closet or somewhere. And Laurie thanked him gratefully and placed the
+rain-coat, which wasn't very wet now, where he had found it. And the
+incident would have ended then and there if it hadn't started in to rain
+cats and dogs again after supper and if Kewpie hadn't taken it into his
+head to pay a visit to a fellow in West Hall. Which is introductory to
+the fact that at eight o'clock that evening, while Ned and Laurie were
+conscientiously absorbed in preparing to-morrow's Latin, a large and
+irate youth appeared at the door of Number 16 with murder in his eyes
+and what appeared to be gore on his hands!
+
+"That's a swell way to return a fellow's coat!" he accused.
+
+He brandished one gory hand dramatically, and with the other exhumed
+from a pocket of the garment a moist and shapeless mass of brown paper
+and chocolate creams. "Look at this!" he exhorted. "It--it's all over
+me! The pocket's a regular glue-pot! Ugh!"
+
+Laurie looked and his shoulders heaved.
+
+"Oh, Kewpie!" he gurgled, contrition--or something--quite overmastering
+him. "I'm s-s-so s-s-sorry!"
+
+Kewpie regarded him scathingly a moment, while syrupy globules detached
+themselves from the exhibit and ran along his wrist. Finally he
+exploded: "Sorry! Yes, you are!"
+
+Whereupon the door closed behind him with an indignant crash, and
+Laurie, unable longer to contain his sorrow, dropped his head on his
+books and gave way to it unrestrainedly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX--LAURIE HEARS NEWS
+
+
+October arrived with the first touch of cooler weather, and the football
+candidates, who had panted and perspired under summer conditions for a
+fortnight, took heart. Among these was Ned. Laurie, who at first had had
+to alternate sympathy and severity in order to keep his brother's
+courage to the sticking-point, now found that his encouragement was no
+longer needed. Ned was quite as much in earnest as any fellow who wore
+canvas. Probably he was not destined ever to become a mighty player, for
+he seemed to lack that quality which coaches, unable to describe, call
+football instinct. But he had made progress--surprising progress when it
+is considered that he had known virtually nothing of the game two weeks
+before.
+
+Laurie, whose afternoons were still absorbed by baseball, viewed Ned's
+efforts as something of a joke, much to the latter's chagrin, and
+continued to do so until a chance conversation with Thurman Kendrick
+opened his eyes. Hop had come across one forenoon to borrow some notes
+and had tarried a moment to talk. In those days, when Hop talked he
+talked of just one subject, and that subject was football, and he
+introduced it to-day.
+
+"We've got to do better to-morrow than we did last week," he said
+earnestly, "or we'll get licked hard. Cole's was fairly easy, but
+Highland is a tough customer. Our trouble so far has been slowness, and
+Highland's as fast as they make them. Somehow, Mulford doesn't seem able
+to get any pep into our bunch. The line isn't so bad, but the back
+field's like cold glue."
+
+"That's up to the quarter, isn't it?" asked Laurie, anxious to prove
+himself not absolutely ignorant of the subject.
+
+"Yes, partly; but it's up to the coach first. If the backs aren't used
+to working fast, the quarter can't make them. Frank Brattle's a good
+quarter, Nod. I sort of wish he wasn't so good!"
+
+"Meaning you'd have a better chance of swiping his job?" smiled Laurie.
+
+"Oh, I'll never do that; but if he wasn't so good I'd get in more often.
+The best I can hope for this year is to get in for maybe a full period
+in the Farview game. Anyway, I'll get my letter, and maybe next year
+I'll land in the position. Frank's a senior, you know."
+
+"Is he? I haven't seen much practice so far. Baseball keeps me pretty
+busy."
+
+"How are you getting on?"
+
+"Slow, I'm afraid. Anyway, you could easily tell Babe Ruth and me
+apart!"
+
+"I guess you're doing better than you let on," said Hop. "If you're as
+good at baseball as your brother is at football, you'll do."
+
+"I guess I am," laughed Laurie; "just about!"
+
+"Well, Nid is surely coming fast," replied Hop, gravely. "He's been
+doing some nice work the last few days."
+
+Laurie stared. "Say, what are you doing, Hop? Stringing me?" he
+demanded.
+
+"Stringing you?" Hop looked puzzled. "Why, no. How do you mean?"
+
+"About Ned. Do you mean that he's really playing football?"
+
+"Why, of course I do. Didn't you know it?"
+
+Laurie shook his head. "He's been telling me a lot of stuff, but I
+thought he was just talking, the way I've been, to sort of keep his
+courage up."
+
+"Nonsense! Nid's doing mighty well. I don't know how much experience
+he's had; some ways he acts sort of green; but he's got Mason worried, I
+guess. If he had another fifteen pounds he'd make the team sure. As it
+is, I wouldn't be surprised to see him play a whole lot this fall. You
+see, he's a pretty good punter, Nod, and yesterday he blossomed out as a
+drop-kicker, too. Landed the ball over from about the thirty yards and
+from a hard angle. Mason doesn't do any kicking, and it's no bad thing
+to have a fellow in the back field who can help Pope out in a pinch.
+It's his kicking ability that'll get him on if anything does."
+
+"I see," said Laurie, thoughtfully. "Well, I'm mighty glad. To tell the
+truth, Hop, Ned hasn't had an awful lot of experience. He's had to bluff
+a good deal."
+
+"I suspected something of the sort from seeing him work the first week
+or so. And then Kewpie said something that sort of lined up with the
+idea. Well, he's working hard and he's making good. Much obliged for
+these, Nod. I'll fetch them back in ten minutes."
+
+When Kendrick had taken his departure Laurie stared thoughtfully for a
+minute into space. Finally he shook his head and smiled. "Good old Ned!"
+he murmured. "I'm sorry I ragged him so. Gee, I'll have to buckle down
+to my own job or he'll leave me at the post!"
+
+After practice that afternoon, Laurie and Lee picked up George and Bob
+Starling at the tennis-courts, and, after changing into "cits," went
+around to the doctor's porch and joined a dozen other lads who were
+engaged in drinking Miss Tabitha's weak tea and eating her
+soul-satisfying layer-cake. After a half-hour of batting and fielding
+practice and a five-inning game between the first team and the scrubs,
+Laurie was in a most receptive mood as far as refreshments were
+concerned. Miss Tabitha made an ideal hostess, for she left conversation
+to the guests and occupied herself in seeing that cups and plates were
+kept filled. No one had yet discovered the number of helpings of cake
+that constituted Miss Tabitha's limit of hospitality, and there was a
+story of a junior so depressed by homesickness that he had
+absent-mindedly consumed six wedges of it and was being urged to a
+seventh when some inner voice uttered a saving warning. In spite of very
+healthy appetites, none of the quartette sought to compete with that
+record, but Laurie and George did allow themselves to be persuaded to
+third helpings, declining most politely until they feared to decline any
+more. Before they had finished, the doctor joined the group and made
+himself very agreeable, telling several funny stories that set every one
+laughing and caused a small junior--it was the cherub-faced youth who
+sat at Laurie's table in the dining-hall and whose career thus far had
+proved anything but that of a cherub--to swallow a mouthful of mocha
+cake the wrong way, with disastrous results. During the ensuing
+confusion the quartette took their departure. At the gate Bob Starling
+said:
+
+"By the way, fellows, I spoke to Dad about that tennis-court, and he's
+written to the agent for permission. He says there won't be any trouble;
+and if there is, he'll agree to put the garden back the way we found it
+and erect a new arbor."
+
+"What will it be?" asked George. "Sod or gravel?"
+
+"Oh, gravel. You couldn't get a sod court in shape under a year, and I
+want to use it this fall. I'm going to look around to-morrow for some
+one to do the job. Know who does that sort of work here--Lee?"
+
+"No, but I suppose you get a contractor; one of those fellows who build
+roads and stone walls and things."
+
+"I'd ask at the court-house," said Laurie.
+
+"At the court--oh, that's a punk one!" jeered Bob. "See you later,
+fellows!"
+
+The game with Highland Academy was played across the river at Lookout,
+and most of the fellows went. In spite of Hop Kendrick's pessimistic
+prophecy, Hillman's took command of the situation in the first quarter
+and held it undisturbed to the final whistle. The contest was, if not
+extremely fast, well played by both teams, and the hosts refused to
+acknowledge defeat until the end. Captain Stevenson, at left tackle, was
+the bright, particular star of the day, with the redoubtable Pope a good
+second.
+
+It was Joe Stevenson's capture of a fumbled ball in the first five
+minutes of play and his amazing run through the enemy ranks that
+produced the initial score. Pope kicked an easy goal after Slavin, right
+half, had plunged through for a touch-down. Later in the game, Pope had
+added three more points by a place-kick from the forty-two yards.
+Highland twice reached the Blue's ten-yard line, the first time losing
+the ball on downs, and the next attempting a forward pass that went
+astray. Her one opportunity to score by a kick was wrecked by no other
+than Kewpie, who, having substituted Holmes at the beginning of the
+second half, somehow shot his hundred and seventy pounds through the
+defense and met the pigskin with his nose. Kewpie presented a
+disreputable appearance for several days, but was given due honor.
+Hillman's returned across the Hudson in the twilight of early October
+with exultant cheers and songs.
+
+Ned watched that game from the substitutes' bench, just as he had
+watched the two preceding contests, but a newly awakened _esprit de
+corps_ forbade complaining. When Laurie sympathetically observed that he
+thought it was time Mulford gave Ned a chance in a real game, Ned
+responded with dignity, almost with severity, that he guessed the coach
+knew his business.
+
+The first of the month--or, to be exact, the fourth--brought the twins
+their monthly allowances, and one of the first things Laurie did was to
+go to the little blue shop on Pine Street and pay his bill, which had
+reached its prescribed limit several days before. Ned went, too,
+although he didn't display much enthusiasm over the mission. Ned held
+that, having created a bill, it was all wrong deliberately to destroy
+it. To his mind, a bill was something to cherish and preserve. Laurie,
+however, pointed out that, since one was prohibited from further
+transactions at the Widow's, even on a cash basis, as long as one owed
+money there, it would be wise to cancel the debts. Ned recognized the
+wisdom of the statement and reluctantly parted with ninety-seven cents.
+
+Since it was only a little after two o'clock, the shop was empty when
+the twins entered, and Polly and her mother were just finishing their
+lunch in the back room. It was Polly who answered the tinkle of the bell
+and who, after some frowning and turning of pages in the account-book,
+canceled the indebtedness.
+
+"Now," said Ned, "I guess I'll have a cream-cake. Want one, Laurie?"
+
+Laurie did, in spite of the fact that it was less than an hour since
+dinner. Mrs. Deane appeared at the door, observed the proceeding, and
+smiled.
+
+"I'm real glad to see you're still alive," she said to Ned. "I guess he
+must take very good care of you."
+
+"Yes'm, I do," Laurie assured her gravely.
+
+Ned laughed scornfully, or as scornfully as it was possible to laugh
+with his mouth full. "You shouldn't believe everything he tells you,
+Mrs. Deane. I have to look after him like a baby. Why, he wouldn't get
+down in time for breakfast if I didn't put most of his clothes on."
+
+"That's no joke, either," retorted Laurie, "about you putting my clothes
+on. You're wearing one of my collars and my best socks right now,
+and--yes, sir, that's my blue tie!"
+
+"Wait a bit, partner! Where'd you get that shirt you're wearing?"
+
+"That's different," answered Laurie, with dignity. "Mine are all in the
+wash. Besides, it's an old one and you never wear it."
+
+"I never get a chance to wear it!"
+
+"It must be very convenient for you," said Mrs. Deane, smilingly, "to be
+able to wear each other's things. Polly, I guess there won't be any one
+else in for a while; maybe they'd like to see your garden."
+
+Being assured that they would, Polly led the way through the back room,
+a pleasant, sunny apartment evidently combining the duties of kitchen
+and dining-room, and out to a little back porch shaded by
+morning-glories and nasturtiums that fairly ran riot over the green
+lattice. There was a braided rug on the floor and a small rocker and a
+tiny table on which were books and a magazine or two. The books were
+evidently Polly's school books, for they were held together by a strap.
+
+The twins liked that garden. It wasn't very large, for when the peculiar
+Mr. Coventry had divided the estate he had placed the high board fence
+very close to the little frame dwelling; but perhaps its very smallness
+made it seem more attractive. Narrow beds encompassed it on three sides,
+and a gravel walk followed the beds. In the tiny square inside, a small
+rustic arbor, covered with climbing rose-vines, held a seat that, as was
+presently proved, accommodated three very comfortably.
+
+But before they were allowed to sit down the boys had to be shown many
+things: the hollyhocks against the back fence, the flowering almond that
+had been brought all the way from the old home in New Jersey,--and had
+never quite made up its mind whether to die of homesickness or go on
+living,--the bed of lilies-of-the-valley that just _wouldn't_ keep out
+of the path and many other floral treasures. Nasturtiums and
+morning-glories and scarlet sage and crinkly-edged white and lavender
+petunias were still blossoming gaily, and there was even a cluster of
+white roses on the arbor, for, so far, no frost had come. The twins
+admired properly and Polly was all smiles, until suddenly she said,
+"O-oh!" and faced them reproachfully.
+
+"You've just let me go on and be perfectly ridiculous!" she charged. "I
+don't think it's a bit nice of you!"
+
+"Why, what--how do you mean?" stammered Ned.
+
+"You have the most wonderful flowers in the world in California, and you
+know it!" she replied severely; "and you've let me show you these poor
+little things as if--as if they were anything at all in comparison! I
+forgot you came from California."
+
+"Maybe we didn't tell you," offered Laurie. "Anyway, your flowers--"
+
+"In California they have hedges of geraniums and roses climb right over
+the houses, and orange-trees and palms and everything," interrupted
+Polly, breathlessly. "Why, this garden must seem perfectly--perfectly
+_awful_ to you!"
+
+"Don't you believe it!" denied Ned. "Flowers and things do grow bigger,
+I suppose, out our way; but they aren't a bit prettier, are they,
+Laurie?"
+
+"Not so pretty," answered the other, earnestly. "Besides, _I_ never saw
+a geranium hedge in my life. Maybe they have them in some places, like
+Pasadena, but there isn't _one_ in Santa Lucia, honest. There isn't, is
+there, Ned?"
+
+"_I_ never saw one. And palms aren't awfully pretty. They get sort of
+scraggly-looking sometimes. Honest, Polly, I never saw a garden any
+prettier and cuter than this is. Of course, some are bigger and--and
+more magnificent--"
+
+"Who wants a magnificent garden?" demanded Laurie, scornfully. "What
+have you got in the box, Polly?"
+
+Comforted, Polly smiled again. "That's Antoinette," she said. "Come and
+see."
+
+Antoinette lived in a wooden box in the shelter of the porch, and had
+long ears and very blue eyes and a nose that twitched funnily when they
+approached. In short, Antoinette was a fluffy smoke-gray rabbit. "She
+has a dreadfully long pedigree," said Polly, as she took Antoinette out
+and snuggled her in her arms.
+
+"Has she?" murmured Laurie. "I thought it looked rather short."
+
+"A pedigree isn't a _tail_, you idiot," said Ned, scathingly. "She's
+awfully pretty, Polly. Will she bite?"
+
+"Of course not! At least, not unless you look like a cabbage-leaf."
+
+"I wouldn't take a chance," Laurie advised. "Any one who's as green as
+you are--"
+
+"She _tries_ to eat 'most everything," said Polly, "but she likes
+cabbage and lettuce and carrots best."
+
+"I wish I had a cabbage," muttered Laurie, searching his pockets; "or a
+carrot. You haven't a carrot with you, have you, Ned?"
+
+"You're the silliest boys!" laughed Polly, returning Antoinette to her
+box. "Let's go and sit down a minute." And when they were on the seat
+under the arbor and she had smoothed her skirt and tucked a pair of
+rather soiled white canvas shoes from sight, she announced, "There! Now
+you can make up a verse about something!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X--POLLY ENTERTAINS
+
+
+"Make up a--what did you say?" asked Ned.
+
+"Make up a verse," answered Polly, placidly. "As you did the other day
+when you went out. Don't you remember?"
+
+"Oh!" Laurie looked somewhat embarrassed and a trifle silly. "Why, you
+see--we only do that when--when--"
+
+"When we have inspiration," aided Ned, glibly.
+
+"Yes, that's it, inspiration! We--we have to have inspiration."
+
+"I'm sure Antoinette ought to be enough inspiration to any poet,"
+returned Polly, laughing. "You know you never saw a more beautiful
+rabbit in your life--lives, I mean."
+
+Ned looked inquiringly at Laurie. Then he said, "Well, maybe if I close
+my eyes a minute--" He suited action to word. Polly viewed him with
+eager interest; Laurie, with misgiving. Finally, after a moment of
+silent suspense, his eyelids flickered and:
+
+"O Antoinette, most lovely of thy kind!" he declaimed.
+
+"Thou eatest cabbages and watermelon rind!" finished Laurie, promptly.
+
+Polly clapped her hands, but her approval was short-lived. "But she
+doesn't eatest watermelon rind," she declared indignantly. "I'm sure it
+wouldn't be at all good for her!"
+
+Laurie grinned. "That's what we call poetic license," he explained.
+"When you make a rhyme, sometimes you've got to--to sacrifice truth
+for--in the interests of--I mean, you've got to think of the _sound_!
+'Kind' and 'carrot' wouldn't sound _right_, don't you see?"
+
+"Well, I'm sure watermelon rind doesn't sound right, either," objected
+Polly; "not for a rabbit. Rabbits have very delicate digestions."
+
+"We might change it," offered Ned. "How would this do?
+
+    "O Antoinette, more lovely than a parrot,
+    Thou dost subsist on cabbages and carrot."
+
+"That's silly," said Polly, scornfully.
+
+"Poetry usually is silly," Ned answered.
+
+Laurie, who had been gazing raptly at his shoes, broke forth exultantly.
+"I've got it!" he cried. "Listen!
+
+    "O Antoinette, most beauteous of rabbits,
+    Be mine and I will feed thee naught but cabbits!"
+
+A brief silence followed. Then Ned asked, "What are cabbits?"
+
+"Cabbits are vegetables," replied Laurie.
+
+"I never heard of them," said Polly, wrinkling her forehead.
+
+"Neither did any one else," laughed Ned. "He just made them up to rhyme
+with rabbits."
+
+"A cabbit," said Laurie, loftily, "is something between a cabbage and a
+carrot."
+
+"What does it look like?" giggled Polly.
+
+Laurie blinked. "We-ell, you've seen a--you've seen an artichoke,
+haven't you?" Polly nodded and Laurie blinked again. "And you've seen
+a--a mangel-wurzel?"
+
+"No, I don't think so."
+
+"Then I don't see how I can tell you," said Laurie, evidently relieved,
+"because a cabbit is more like a mangel-wurzel than anything else. Of
+course, it's not so deciduous, and the shape is different; it's more
+obvate than a mangel-wurzel; more--" he swept his hands vaguely in
+air--"more phenomenal."
+
+"Oh, dry up," said Ned, grinning. "How'd you like to have to put up with
+an idiot like that all your life, Polly? The worst of it is, folks
+sometimes mistake him for me!"
+
+"Yes, it's awful, but I manage to bear up under it," Laurie sighed.
+
+"How did you ever come to think of making those funny rhymes?" Polly
+asked.
+
+"Oh, we had measles once, about four years ago," said Ned. "We always
+had everything together--measles, whooping-cough, scarlet fever,
+everything. And when we were getting over it they wouldn't let us read
+and so we made up rhymes. I forget whose idea it was. I'd make up one
+line and Laurie would make up the other, or the other way round. The
+idea was to have the last word of the first line so hard that the other
+fellow couldn't rhyme to it. But I guess I only stuck Laurie once. Then
+the word was lemon."
+
+"You didn't really stick me then," Laurie denied. "I rhymed it with
+demon. You said they didn't rhyme, but I showed you a rhyming dictionary
+that said they did."
+
+"The dictionary said it was an imperfect rhyme, Laurie, and--"
+
+"Just the same, a rhyme's a rhyme. Say, Ned, remember the one we made up
+about Miss Yetter?" Ned nodded and grinned. "Miss Yetter was our nurse.
+We thought it was pretty clever, but she didn't like it.
+
+    "When feeling ill send for Miss Yetter.
+    If you don't die, she'll make you better."
+
+"She was quite insulted about it," laughed Ned, "and told Dad; and he
+tried to lecture us, but we got laughing so he couldn't. We made rhymes
+all the time for a while and nearly drove folks crazy; and finally Dad
+said if we didn't stop it he'd whale us. And I said, 'All right, sir,
+we'll try not to do it'; and Laurie, the chump, butted in with, ''Cause
+if we do, we know we'll rue it!' We nearly got the licking right then!"
+
+"You _are_ funny!" laughed Polly. "Is your mother--haven't you--"
+
+"She died when we were kids," answered Laurie. "I just remember her, but
+Ned doesn't."
+
+"You think you do. You've just heard Dad, and nurse talk about her. We
+were only four when Mother died."
+
+Laurie looked unconvinced, but didn't argue the matter. Instead he
+asked, "Your father's dead, isn't he, Polly?"
+
+"Yes, he died when I was eight. He was a dear, and I missed him just
+terribly. Mother says I look like him. He was very tall and was always
+laughing. Mother says he laughed so much he didn't have time for
+anything else. She means that he wasn't--wasn't very successful. We were
+very poor when he died. But I guess he was lots nicer than he would have
+been if he had just been--successful. I guess the most successful man in
+this town is Mr. Sparks, the banker, and no one has ever seen him laugh
+once. And Uncle Peter was successful, too, I suppose; and he was just as
+sour and ill-tempered as anything. He wasn't my real uncle, but I called
+him that because Mother said it would please him. It didn't seem to."
+
+"Was that Mr. Coventry?" asked Laurie. "The mis--I mean the man who
+lived in the big square house over there?"
+
+"Yes. And I don't mind your calling him the miser, because that is just
+what he was. He was Mother's half-brother, but he didn't act as if he
+was even a quarter-brother! He was always just as horrid as he could be.
+When Father died he wrote Mother to come here and he would provide her
+with a home. And when we came, we found he meant that Mother was to live
+here and pay him rent. She didn't have enough money to do that, and so
+Uncle Peter made the front of the house into a store and bought some
+things for her and made her sign a mortgage or something. When he died,
+we thought maybe he had left Mother a little; but there wasn't any will,
+and not much property, either--just the big house on Walnut Street and
+this place and about two thousand dollars. When the property was
+divided, Mother got the other heirs to let her have this as her portion
+of the estate, but she had to pay four hundred and fifty dollars for it.
+That took about all she had saved and more, and so we haven't been able
+to do much to the house yet."
+
+"It doesn't look as if it needed much doing to," said Ned, critically.
+
+"Oh, but it does! It needs a new coat of paint, for one thing. And some
+of the blinds are broken. And there ought to be a furnace in it. Stoves
+don't really keep it warm in winter. Some day we'll fix it up nicely,
+though. As soon as I get through high school, I'm going to work and make
+a lot of money."
+
+"Attaboy!" approved Ned. "What are you going to do, Polly?"
+
+"I'm learning stenography and typewriting, and Mr. Farmer, the
+lawyer,--he's the one who got the others to let Mother have the house
+when Uncle Peter's estate was settled,--says he will find a place for me
+in his office. He's awfully nice. Some stenographers make lots of money,
+don't they?"
+
+"I guess so," Ned agreed. "There's a woman in Dad's office who gets
+eighteen dollars a week."
+
+Polly clasped her hands delightedly. "Maybe I wouldn't get that much,
+though. I guess Mr. Farmer doesn't pay his stenographer very high wages.
+Maybe I'd get twelve dollars, though. Don't you think I might?"
+
+"Sure!" said Laurie. "Don't you let any one tell you any different.
+Didn't folks think that your Uncle Peter left more money than was found,
+Polly?"
+
+"Oh, yes; but no one really knew. The lawyers looked everywhere. If he
+did have any more, he must have hidden it away pretty well. They looked
+all through the house and dug holes in the cellar floor. It was very
+exciting. Mother thinks he lost what money he had speculating in stocks
+and things. He used to go to New York about four times a year. No one
+knew what he did there, not even Hilary; but Mother thinks he went to
+see men who deal in stocks and that they got his money away from him."
+
+"Who is Hilary?" Laurie inquired.
+
+"Hilary was a colored man that Uncle had had a long time. It seemed to
+me that if Uncle had had much money, Hilary would have known about it;
+and he didn't."
+
+"Where is he now? Hilary, I mean," added Laurie, somewhat unnecessarily.
+
+"I don't know. He went away a little while after Uncle Peter died. He
+said he was going to New York, I think."
+
+"You don't suppose he took the money with him, do you? I mean--"
+
+"Oh no!" Polly seemed quite horrified. "Hilary was just as honest as
+honest! Why, Uncle Peter died owing him almost forty dollars and Hilary
+never got a cent of it! The lawyers were too mean for anything!"
+
+"There's a fellow named Starling living there now," Laurie said. "His
+father's rented the house for three years. Bob says that he's going to
+find the money and give it to your mother."
+
+Polly laughed. "Oh, I wish that he would! But I guess if the lawyers
+couldn't find it he never will. Lawyers, they say, can find money when
+nobody else can! Is he nice?"
+
+"Bob? Yes, he's a dandy chap. You ought to know him, Polly; he's your
+next-door neighbor."
+
+"Back-door neighbor, you mean," interpolated Ned.
+
+"I think I saw him in the garden one day," said Polly. "His father is an
+engineer, Mae Ferrand says, and he's building a big bridge for the
+railway. Or maybe it's a tunnel. I forget."
+
+"Is Mae Something the girl with the molasses-candy hair you were with at
+the high school game?" Laurie asked.
+
+"Yes, but her hair isn't like molasses candy. It's perfectly lovely
+hair. It's like--like diluted sunshine!"
+
+Laurie whistled. "Gee! Did you get that, Neddie? Well, anyway, I like
+dark hair better."
+
+"Oh, I don't! I'd love to have hair like Mae's. And, what do you think,
+she likes my hair better than her own!"
+
+"Don't blame her," said Laurie. "What do you say, Ned?"
+
+"I say I've got to beat it back and get into football togs. What time is
+it?"
+
+"Look at your own watch, you lazy loafer. Well, come on. I say, Polly,
+would your mother let you go to the game with me Saturday? That is, if
+you want to, of course."
+
+"Oh, I'd love to! But--I'll ask her, anyway. And if she says I may,
+would you mind if Mae went too? We usually go together to the games."
+
+"Not a bit. I'll be around again before Saturday and see what she says."
+
+"I wouldn't be surprised if she said yes," remarked Polly. "I think she
+must like you boys. Anyway, you're the first of the Hillman's boys she
+has ever let me invite out here."
+
+"Really? Bully for her! Wait till I say farewell to Antoinette, 'most
+beauteous of rabbits!' What does she twitch her nose like that for?"
+
+"I think she's asking for some cabbits," replied Polly, gravely.
+
+"She's making faces at you, you chump," said Ned, rudely. "Come on."
+They returned through the little living-room, empty save for a big black
+cat asleep in a rocking-chair, and found Mrs. Deane serving the first of
+the afternoon trade in the shop beyond. They said good afternoon to her
+very politely, and Polly went to the door with them. Outside on the
+walk, Ned nudged Laurie, and they paused side by side and gravely
+removed their caps.
+
+"We give you thanks and say farewell, Miss Polly."
+
+"The visit's been, indeed, most jolly!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI--NED SPEAKS OUT
+
+
+There was a cut in the football squad that afternoon and more than a
+dozen candidates were retired, leaving twenty-eight players for the
+first and scrub teams. Ned survived, as, indeed, he expected to; for,
+while he knew his limitations, neither the coach nor the captain
+appeared to. Perhaps they were sometimes puzzled over flashes of
+ineptitude, or perhaps they put them down to temporary reversals of
+form; at least, Ned's talent was never seriously questioned by them. He
+had settled down as a regular half-back on the scrub eleven, although
+twice he had been called on in practice scrimmages to take Mason's place
+at left half on the first squad. He was too light to make much headway
+in bucking plays, and his inability to start quickly handicapped him
+frequently in running; but as a kicker he was dependable and had
+developed a quite remarkable accuracy at forward passing. Against a
+light opponent or a slow one he could be counted on to play a fairly
+good game, although so far he had not been allowed the opportunity. With
+him on the scrub team was Hop Kendrick at quarter, and, for a time,
+Kewpie at center. But Kewpie had trained down at last to a hundred and
+sixty-five pounds and was handling his weight and bulk with a new
+snappiness, and a few days after Ned became a part of the scrub outfit
+Kewpie was elevated to the first team, and a much disgruntled Holmes
+took his place on the second.
+
+With the defeat of Wagner School, Hillman's ended her preliminary
+season. In that contest, played at home, the Blue showed a new
+aggressiveness and much more speed; and, while she was able to score
+only one touch-down, and Pope failed miserably at goal, every one was
+well satisfied. Wagner had a strong team, and a victory over it was no
+small triumph. Hillman's line held splendidly under the battering-ram
+tactics of the adversary, and her backs were fast and shifty. On attack,
+the Blue failed to gain consistently; but in the third period, with a
+captured fumble on Wagner's thirty-three yards for encouragement, Pope
+got free for half the distance, and Slavin and Mason, alternating,
+worked the enemy's left side until the ball lay on the five-yard line.
+Then a fake attack on Wagner's right, with Pope carrying the ball
+through on the left of center, brought the only score of the day. Kewpie
+proved himself that afternoon, for he was a veritable Rock of Gibraltar
+on defense and a hundred and sixty-five pounds of steel springs on
+attack. The Blue team was far from a perfect machine yet, but it seemed
+that Mulford had found his parts and that only a generous oiling was
+needed.
+
+Laurie and George Watson escorted Polly and Mae Ferrand to the game,
+and, although aware of the covert grins and whispered witticisms of
+acquaintances, enjoyed themselves hugely. Mae proved to be a very jolly,
+wholesome sort of girl, and her knowledge of what may be termed "inside
+football" was stupendous and made both Laurie and George rather ashamed
+of their ignorance. Between the halves, Ned, arrayed in a trailing gray
+blanket, joined them and promptly became involved with Mae in a very
+technical argument that no one else could follow. From the fact that Ned
+retired with a rather dispirited expression when the teams came on
+again, Laurie surmised that the honors had gone to Mae.
+
+The following Monday evening, while the enthusiasm produced by the
+victory over Wagner School was still undiminished, a second mass-meeting
+was held in the auditorium to devise means of replenishing the football
+treasury: Three of the remaining five games were to be played away from
+Orstead, and in two cases the distance to be traveled was considerable
+and the expenses consequently large. As Joe Stevenson said, introducing
+the subject for discussion, if Hillman's charged admission to her home
+games, it would be possible to get through a season without asking for
+assistance from the student body. "But you fellows know that that isn't
+the school policy. We are allowed to sell tickets for the Farview game
+only, and, while we make about four hundred and fifty dollars as our
+share, that doesn't go very far against the season's outlay. We have to
+pay from seventy-five to a hundred and twenty-five dollars to every team
+that comes here to play us. When we go away we seldom make enough to pay
+our expenses. In the Highland game, because it cost us almost nothing
+for fares, we did. At the present moment we have a cash balance on hand
+of forty-three dollars, and our liabilities, including Mr. Mulford's
+salary for the remainder of the season, are about eight hundred dollars.
+
+"The manager estimates that we'll have to incur added expenses for about
+a hundred and twenty dollars for Farview game tickets and new supplies.
+In short, we shall have to pay out, before the season ends, about nine
+hundred dollars. Against that we have on hand forty-three dollars, and
+in prospect something like five hundred, leaving us about three hundred
+and fifty in the hole.
+
+"There has been talk of cutting out the Lansing and Whittier games, but
+that wouldn't make enough difference. Besides, it would give us a black
+eye to cancel games as late as this. We might save perhaps seventy
+dollars if we did, but it would cost us ten times that in public
+estimation. As far as I can see, fellows, if we're going to have a
+football team, we've got to pay for it. We've asked permission to charge
+admission, even a nominal one, to all games, but the faculty is against
+it. And we have asked to have a regular assessment made against each
+student. To many of us that would seem the fairer and most satisfactory
+way of meeting the emergency. But the faculty doesn't like that any
+better than the other proposition. So I guess it's up to us, each and
+every one of us, to dig down and produce the coin.
+
+"We need three hundred and fifty dollars at least. That means that every
+fellow in school must pony up four dollars, or, rather, that the average
+must be four dollars each. Some of you can't give so much, probably, and
+a few can give more. I'd like to hear from you, please. Don't be afraid
+to say what you think. We want to get together on this matter and thrash
+it out, if it takes until ten o'clock. Any one who has any suggestion to
+offer or anything to say will be heard. Come on, somebody!"
+
+There were plenty of speakers: Dave Brewster, the baseball captain, Dan
+Whipple, senior class president, Lew Cooper, upper middle class
+president, Dave Murray, the manager of the team, Craig Jones, for the
+lower middlers, and many others, Some subscribed to the donation scheme,
+others opposed it. Cooper suggested an appeal to the school alumni.
+Brewster pointed out that the effort would cost money and that the
+result would be uncertain and, in any case, slow. An increase in the
+price of tickets to the Farview game was discussed and the idea
+abandoned. An hour passed and the meeting was getting nowhere. Some of
+the younger boys had already withdrawn. A tall, lantern-jawed youth had
+charged the football committee with extravagance, and Dave Murray had
+bitterly resented the allegation. Ned, who, with Laurie and Lee Murdock,
+was seated near the back of the hall, had shown signs of restiveness for
+some time and had been muttering to himself. Now, to the surprise of his
+companions, he jumped to his feet and demanded recognition:
+
+"Mr. Chairman!"
+
+"Mister--" Dan Whipple pointed a finger at Ned and nodded.
+
+"Turner," prompted Kewpie from a front seat.
+
+"Mr. Turner," encouraged the chairman.
+
+"I'd like to say that I never heard so much talking and saw so little
+action," began Ned, impatiently. "What's the matter with some one saying
+something useful instead of just chewing the rag?"
+
+"You tell 'em," piped a small junior, above the applause and laughter.
+
+"All right! I'll tell you fellows that you're a lot of pikers to
+hesitate to pledge three or four hundred dollars to keep your team
+going. Where I come from we had to have a new grand stand two years ago,
+and we called a meeting like this and we raised seven hundred dollars in
+thirty-five minutes in cash and pledges. There were a lot more of us,
+but half of us would have felt like Rockefellers if we'd ever found a
+whole half-dollar in our pockets! Some of us gave as high as five
+dollars, but not many. Most of us pledged two dollars; and those who
+didn't have two dollars went out and worked until they'd made it, by
+jingo! And we got our grand stand up inside of two weeks, in time for
+the big baseball game."
+
+There was real applause this time, and those in the front of the hall
+had swung around to have a look at the earnest youth who was calling
+them names.
+
+"That's one way of getting the money," continued Ned, warming up finely,
+"but there's another. Out my way--"
+
+"Say, where do you come from?" called some one.
+
+"I come from California," answered Ned, proudly. "Maybe you've heard of
+it!"
+
+"Attaboy!" shouted Kewpie. "Swing your leg, Nid!"
+
+"When we want to raise some money out there and folks are too stingy to
+give it outright, we take it away from them another way. We get up a
+fete. We give them a good time and they pay for it. Why not try it here?
+I don't know how many folks there are in this burg, but I reckon there
+are enough to part with three or four hundred dollars. Give them an
+excuse to spend their money and they'll spend it!"
+
+Ned sat down amid loud applause, and Dave Brewster was recognized,
+although half a dozen others were clamoring for speech.
+
+"Turner's said something, fellows," declared Brewster. "The idea's worth
+considering. We've never tackled the town folks for money, and there's
+no reason why they shouldn't come across. They've come to our games for
+years without paying a cent, except for the Farview game, and it
+wouldn't hurt them to give a little to a good cause. I don't know what
+sort of a fete Turner has in mind, but I should think we might get up
+something that would do the business."
+
+"Mr. Chairman," said Kewpie, "I move that a committee of three be
+appointed by the chair, to include Nid,--I mean Mr. Turner,--to consider
+the--the matter of giving a fete to raise the money."
+
+"Seconded!"
+
+"You have heard the motion," droned Whipple. "All those in favor will so
+signify by saying 'Aye.' Contrary, 'No.' Moved and carried. I will
+appoint the presidents of the senior and upper middle classes and Mr.
+Turner to the committee, three in all. Is it the sense of this meeting
+that your committee is to report to it at a subsequent meeting, or is it
+to have authority to proceed with the matter if it decides that the
+scheme is a good one?"
+
+"Full authority, Mr. Chairman!" "Let 'em go ahead with it!" "Sure!
+That's what we want. Let's have action!"
+
+"Is there any other business? Then I declare the meeting adjourned!"
+
+Whipple captured Ned on the way out. "We'd better get together right
+away on this, Turner," he said. "Can you meet Cooper and me at my room
+to-morrow at twelve?"
+
+Ned agreed, and he and Laurie and Lee went on. "What I'd like to know,"
+remarked Laurie, after a moment's silence, "is how you're going to have
+a fete in a place like this. The weather's too cold for it."
+
+"Maybe it will be warmer," answered Ned, cheerfully. "Besides, we don't
+have to have it outdoors."
+
+"It wouldn't be a fete if you didn't," sniffed the other.
+
+"Well, what's the difference? Call it anything you like. The big thing
+is to get the money."
+
+"You had your cheek with you to talk the way you did," chuckled Laurie.
+
+"He talked sense, though," asserted Lee, warmly.
+
+"Of course. The Turners always do." Laurie steered Ned toward the
+entrance of East Hall. "Well, good night, Lee. See you at the fete!"
+
+Upstairs, Ned tossed his cap to the bed, plumped himself into a chair at
+the table, and drew paper and pencil to him. "Now," he said, "let's
+figure this out. I've got to talk turkey to those fellows to-morrow.
+What's your idea, partner?"
+
+"Hey, where do you get that stuff?" demanded Laurie. "Why drag me into
+it? It's not my fete. I don't own it."
+
+"Shut up and sit down there before I punch your head. You've got to help
+with this. The honor of the Turners is at stake!"
+
+So Laurie subsided and for more than an hour he and Ned racked their
+brains and gradually the plan took shape.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII--THE COMMITTEE ON ARRANGEMENTS
+
+
+"It's like this," explained Ned. He and Laurie and Polly and Mae Ferrand
+were in the little garden behind the shop. The girls were on the bench
+and the boys were seated on the turf before the arbor, their knees
+encircled with their arms. A few yards away Antoinette eyed them gravely
+and twitched her nose. On the porch step, Towser, the big black cat,
+blinked benignly, sometimes shifting his gaze to the branches of the
+maple in the next yard, where an impudent black-and-white woodpecker was
+seeking a late luncheon.
+
+"There are two sub-committees," continued Ned, earnestly. "Whipple and
+Cooper are the Committee on Finance and Publicity, and Laurie and I are
+the Committee on Arrangements. I told them I had to have help and so
+they took Laurie in."
+
+"No thanks to you," grumbled Laurie, who was, however, secretly much
+pleased.
+
+"It's going to be next Saturday afternoon and evening, and this is
+Tuesday, and so there isn't much time. We were afraid to make it any
+later because the weather might get too cold. Besides, the team needs
+the money right off. I looked in an almanac and it said that next
+Saturday would be fair and warm, so that's all right."
+
+"But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" asked Polly. "I
+know ours does. When we had our high-school picnic, the almanac said
+'showers' and it was a perfectly gorgeous day. I carried my mackintosh
+around all day and it was a perfect nuisance. Don't you remember, Mae?"
+
+"Well, you've got to believe in something," declared Ned. "Anyway, we're
+going to have it at Bob Starling's, and if it's too cold outdoors, we'll
+move inside."
+
+"You mean at Uncle Peter's?" exclaimed Polly.
+
+"Yes. We thought of having it at school first, but Mr. Hillman didn't
+like it much; and besides, the fellows would be inside without having to
+pay to get there! You see, it's going to cost every one a quarter just
+to get in."
+
+"And how much to get out?" asked Mae, innocently.
+
+Ned grinned. "As much as we can get away from them. There'll be twelve
+booths to sell things in--"
+
+"What sort of things?" Polly inquired.
+
+"All sorts. Eats and drinks and everything. We're getting the
+storekeepers to donate things. So far they've just given us things that
+they haven't been able to sell, a pile of junk; but we're going to stop
+that. Biddle, the hardware man, gave us a dozen cheap pocket-knives, but
+he's got to come across again. We've been to only eight of them so far,
+but we haven't done so worse. Guess we've got enough truck for one booth
+already. And then there'll be one of them for a rummage sale. We're
+going to get each of the fellows to give us something for that, and I'll
+bet we'll have a fine lot of truck. Each booth will represent a college
+and be decorated in the proper colors: Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and so
+on. And--and now it's your turn, Laurie."
+
+"Yes, I notice that I always have to do the dirty work," said the other.
+He hugged his knees tighter, rolled over on his back for inspiration,
+and, when he again faced his audience on the bench, smiled his nicest.
+"Here's where you girls come in," he announced. "We want you two to take
+two of the booths and get a girl for each of the others. Want to?"
+
+"Oh, it would be darling!" cried Polly.
+
+"I'd love to!" said Mae.
+
+"Only--"
+
+"Only--"
+
+"Only what!" asked Ned, as the girls viewed each other doubtfully.
+
+"I'm not sure Mother would let me," sighed Polly. "Do you think she
+would, Mae?"
+
+"I don't believe so. And I don't believe Mama would let me. She--she's
+awfully particular that way."
+
+"Gee!" said Ned, in disappointed tones, "I don't see why not! It isn't
+as if--"
+
+"Of course it isn't," agreed Laurie. "Besides, your mothers would be
+there too!"
+
+"Would they?" asked Mae, uncertainly.
+
+"Of course! Every one's coming! What harm would there be in it? You can
+do things for--for charity that you can't do any other time! All you'd
+have to do would be to just stand behind the booth and sell things. It
+won't be hard. Everything will have the price marked on it and--"
+
+"You won't need to go by the prices always, though," interpolated Ned.
+"I mean, if you can get more than the thing is marked, you'd better do
+it! And then there's the--the costumes, Laurie."
+
+"Oh, yes, I forgot. We'd like each girl to sort of wear something that
+would sort of match the college she represented--sort of," he explained
+apologetically. "If you had the Yale booth, you could wear a dark-blue
+waist, and so on. Do you think that would be possible?"
+
+Polly giggled. "We might ask Stella Hatch to take the Harvard booth,
+Mae. With her hair, she wouldn't have to dress much!"
+
+"And you and Polly could take your first pick," observed Laurie,
+craftily. "You'd look swell as--as Dartmouth, Mae!"
+
+"In _green_! My gracious, Ned! No, thank you! But Polly ought to be
+Yale. She looks lovely in blue. I think I'd like to be Cornell. My
+brother Harry's in Cornell."
+
+"All right," agreed Ned. "I wish you'd ask your mothers soon, will you?
+Do try, because we've just got to get girls for the booths. You'd have
+lots of fun, too. The Banjo and Mandolin Club is going to play for
+dancing for an hour at five and nine, and there'll be an entertainment,
+too."
+
+"What sort?" asked Polly.
+
+"We don't know yet. Some of the gymnastic team will do stunts, I think,
+for one thing, and there'll be singing and maybe Laurie will do some
+rope-swinging--"
+
+"I told you a dozen times I wouldn't! Besides, I haven't any rope."
+
+"We can find one, probably," replied his brother, untroubled. "We
+haven't settled about the entertainment yet. And there are two or three
+other things we haven't got to. Starling's going to have his garden all
+fixed up, and he's going to cover the old arbor with branches and hang
+Chinese lanterns in it and have little tables and chairs there for folks
+to sit down and eat ice-cream and cake.
+
+"And that reminds me, Polly. Do you suppose that Miss Comfort would make
+some cakes for us?"
+
+"Why, yes, Nid, but--but you'd have to _buy_ them. I don't think you
+ought to expect her to _donate_ them."
+
+"We meant to buy them, of course, Polly. And we wondered if your mother
+would make some of those dandy cream-puffs."
+
+"I'm sure she will. How many would you want?"
+
+"I don't know. You see, there's no way of telling how many will come.
+There are three thousand people in Orstead, but that doesn't mean much,
+does it? The 'Messenger' editor's agreed to put in an advertisement for
+us for nothing, and there'll be notices all around town in the windows:
+we got the man who prints the school monthly to do them for just the
+cost of the paper. So folks ought to come, shouldn't you think?"
+
+"Oh, I'm sure they will!" agreed Polly, and Mae echoed her. "But it'll
+be dreadfully hard to know how much cake and ice-cream and refreshments
+to order, won't it?"
+
+"Fierce," agreed Ned. "I suppose the best way will be to reckon on, say,
+three hundred and order that much stuff. Only, how do you tell how much
+three hundred will eat?"
+
+"Why, you can't! Besides, Nid, three hundred people would only bring in
+seventy-five dollars!"
+
+"In admissions, yes; but we've got to make them buy things when we get
+them in there. If every one spent a dollar inside--"
+
+"But lots of them won't. Do you think they will, Mae?"
+
+Mae shook her head. "No, I don't. Lots and lots will just come out of
+curiosity and won't spend a cent. I know, boys, because that's the way
+they act at the fairs here."
+
+Ned kicked at the turf gloomily. "Gee, that's fierce!" he muttered.
+
+"Well, we'd ought to get more than three hundred folks," said Laurie.
+"Remember, it's to be afternoon and evening too. I'll bet there'll be
+nearer six hundred than three."
+
+Ned brightened. "That's so. And six hundred, even if they only averaged
+fifty cents apiece, would be three hundred dollars. And I guess if we
+can make three hundred, we can dig up the other fifty! Well, we've got
+to get busy, Laurie. I got them to give me a cut from practice this
+afternoon and I'll have to make the most of my time," he explained to
+the girls.
+
+"Oh! And did they let you off, too, Nod?" asked Polly.
+
+"No, we're through with baseball," Laurie answered. "No more till
+spring. I'm just fairly broken-hearted!"
+
+"When will you know about helping us, Polly?" Ned asked.
+
+[Illustration: "But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?"
+asked Polly]
+
+"I'll ask Mother right away; and you'll ask, too, won't you, Mae? Can
+you stop in this evening? I do hope it'll be all right!"
+
+"So do we!" said Ned and Laurie, in a breath. "Rather!"
+
+And the Committee on Arrangements hurried away.
+
+That night the committee met again in Dan Whipple's room in West Hall
+and satisfactory progress was reported all along the line. Ned read a
+list of donations from the town merchants, and announced that twelve
+young ladies from the high school would be on hand, appropriately
+attired, to take charge of the booths. Lew Cooper showed proofs of the
+poster that was to be displayed in windows and tacked on posts and
+fences, and of the four-inch, double-column advertisement to appear in
+the "Messenger." Dan reported that Mr. Wells, the physical director, had
+promised to see that the best six members of the gymnastic team should
+exhibit afternoon and evening.
+
+"That means, though," he said, "that we'll have to have some kind of a
+platform. Better make a note of that, Lew."
+
+"Platforms cost money," answered Lew, dubiously. "Maybe we can
+borrow--I'll tell you what! There's one stored over in the field-house,
+one they use to set the dressing-tent on. It's in two
+pieces,--sections,--but I guess it's big enough. We'll see if we can't
+get the use of it."
+
+"Good! Better ask Mr. Wells, Say, Hal, did you see Norris?"
+
+Hal Pringle was Dan's room-mate, and, while he was usually present at
+the meetings, he was careful to keep himself in the background unless
+called on for advice. Now he looked up from his book and nodded. "Yes,
+it 'a all right. They'll play for an hour in the afternoon and an hour
+at night. I had to promise them eats, though."
+
+"Of course. Much obliged. Speaking of eats, fellows, what's been done
+about the refreshments?"
+
+"Nothing yet," answered Ned. "I wanted to talk that over. How many
+sandwiches and how much salad will we want? And how many gallons of
+ice-cream and--"
+
+"Whoa!" begged Dan. "Blessed if I know! How the dickens are we going to
+know how much food will be needed? What's the rule about it? Or isn't
+there any?"
+
+"Depends on how many will attend the show," said Lew. "Find that out--"
+
+"How're we going to find it out, you chump? How many do you suppose we
+can count on, Ned?"
+
+"Maybe six hundred," was the answer. "But if it should rain--"
+
+"There you are! If it rained, we mightn't get two hundred! I'll say
+that's a problem. We'd be in a fine fix if we found ourselves with two
+or three freezers of ice-cream on our hands and a lot of other truck.
+Look here, Tabby might know. Suppose you ask her, Ned. We've got to have
+enough and not too much."
+
+"It'll be all right about the ice-cream," said Laurie. "The man said we
+could return what we didn't open if we got it back that night so he
+could pack it over. But the other things--"
+
+"You talk to Tabby in the morning," repeated Dan. "She'll know if any
+one does. Now what else? What about the entertainment part of it, Mr.
+Chairman of the Committee on Arrangements? What have you got in mind
+besides the gymnastics?"
+
+"We thought we might find some one who could sing or dance. But we don't
+know many of the fellows."
+
+"Bully! There's Cheesman, Lew. He's a corker. And Kewpie isn't so bad.
+He sings a funny song mighty well."
+
+"He couldn't sing it in the afternoon, though, Dan: he'd be at the
+field."
+
+"That's so! still, the game ought to be finished by four. We wouldn't
+have the entertainment part until late, would we?"
+
+"About four, I thought," said Ned, "but Kewpie could come last. I'll put
+him down, anyway."
+
+"Anything else besides songs?" asked Dan.
+
+"Yes, only-" Ned dropped his voice and glanced at Pringle--"only it's
+got to be kept a secret to make good."
+
+"Oh, Hal's all right. He's a sort of ex-officio member of the committee.
+Shoot, Ned!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII--NED GETS INTO THE GAME
+
+
+Four hectic days followed. To Laurie, since Ned was held for two hours
+each afternoon at the football field, fell most of the duties of the
+Committee on Arrangements, and he was a very busy youth. He badgered
+shopkeepers into parting with goods to be sold at the booths, helped Bob
+Starling trim up the old arbor in the garden of the Coventry place, made
+frequent trips to the Or stead caterer's, engaged eight cakes from Miss
+Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from the Widow Deane, spent two
+hours Wednesday helping Lew and Hal Pringle distribute posters
+throughout the village, and attended to a hundred other matters
+between-times. Of course, Ned aided when he could, and was helpful with
+advice and unfailing in suggestions; but recitations and football
+practice didn't leave him much time, even though he conscientiously
+arose a full hour earlier every morning that week, and skimped studying
+so much that he got in trouble with three instructors in one day!
+
+Miss Tabitha had proved as helpful as Dan Whipple had predicted. She had
+shaken her head at the idea of entertaining six hundred at the fete.
+"You mustn't count on more than half that many," she said. "I dare say
+all the boys will go, and they'll make ninety. Then, if you get two
+hundred of the townsfolk, you'll be doing very nicely. Don't decide how
+much salad or how many sandwiches you want until Saturday morning. So
+much will depend on the weather. Even if you hold the affair indoors,
+lots of folks won't come if it rains. You say you've ordered eight cakes
+from Martha Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from Mrs. Deane?"
+
+"Yes'm," said Ned. "We wanted Mrs. Deane to make more, but she didn't
+think she could."
+
+"Well, that's a hundred and fourty-four cream-puffs, and--let me
+see--one of Miss Comfort's cakes will cut into sixteen pieces, and eight
+times sixteen--"
+
+"A hundred and twenty-eight, ma'am."
+
+"Well, and a hundred and twenty-eight and a hundred and forty-four--"
+
+"Two hundred and seventy-two."
+
+"You're real quick at figures, aren't you? Seems as if, though, counting
+on three hundred, you'd be a little short. I'll have Aunt Persis make
+one of her marble-cakes. That'll help out, I guess."
+
+"Yes'm; thanks awfully," answered Ned.
+
+"Who is going to serve the refreshments?"
+
+"Why--why--" Ned's face fell. "I guess we hadn't thought of that!"
+
+"Well, it makes a heap of difference, because you can make a quart of
+ice-cream serve ten people or twenty, just as you've a mind to. I
+usually count on sixteen. Same way with a loaf of cake, and same way
+with salad. It's awfully easy to waste salad when you're serving it.
+Now, if you'd like me to, Ned, I'll attend to serving everything for
+you. You just have the things set down there and I'll look after them."
+
+"Oh, Miss Hillman, if you would! Gee, that would be great! It--it'll be
+a lot of trouble, though, ma'am."
+
+"Well, I guess it won't be the first trouble I've seen," replied Miss
+Tabitha, dryly; "nor it won't be the last!"
+
+Thursday afternoon Laurie hurried over to the Coventry place as soon as
+a two-o'clock recitation was done. Bob was awaiting him at the gate, and
+conducted him around to the back of the big square house. Ned stared in
+surprise. The tangle of trees and vines and shrubbery had been trimmed
+to orderly neatness, the long, unkempt grass had been shorn to a yellow,
+but respectable, turf, and the old arbor showed new strips where Thomas,
+the Starlings' man, had been at work on the decrepit frame. Near at hand
+lay piles of cedar and hemlock branches.
+
+"Dad got a couple of the men to cut those down near the tunnel and haul
+them up here." Bob explained. "Thomas is going to help us put them up.
+He made a peachy job of the garden, didn't he?"
+
+"You bet!" responded Laurie, heartily. "I wouldn't have known the place!
+I say, Bob, this arbor's longer than I thought it was."
+
+"Forty feet, about. Why?"
+
+"I only ordered six tables and a dozen chairs from the caterer,"
+answered Laurie, dubiously. "Guess they aren't enough; but he's charging
+twenty-five cents apiece for them--"
+
+"Twenty-five cents for a table? Isn't that dirt-cheap?"
+
+"We're only renting them, you idiot!"
+
+"Oh, I see. Well, six is enough, I guess; you don't want to crowd them.
+Now let's get busy with the green stuff. I'll yell down cellar for
+Thomas. There's a ball of twine, and I've got two hammers and a lot of
+tacks on the side porch. You take your coat off and I'll--"
+
+"We'll have to have a step-ladder, Bob!"
+
+"There's a short ladder right beside you. Be right back."
+
+Laurie sat down on a wheelbarrow, after removing his coat and folding
+back the sleeves of his shirt, and looked around him. The garden was
+fairly large--larger in appearance since the clutter of shrubbery along
+the sides had been cleared away. Along the School Park edge ran a tall
+hedge of lilac bushes. At the back was the high board fence, painted
+dark brown, that separated the garden from the Widow Deane's humble
+property. On the other side was a rusty ornamental iron fence, mostly
+hidden by vines. Broad walks, in spite of Thomas's efforts rather
+overrun with weeds, surrounded the central plot of ancient turf, and
+another ran straight down the middle of the garden, connecting with the
+arbor. Wires were to be strung from the trees and across to the arbor,
+and Chinese lanterns hung thereon. Laurie, half closing his eyes, sought
+to visualize the place as it would appear on Saturday. He did want the
+affair to be a success, both financial and artistic, both on account of
+the school and--well, for the honor of the Turners! While he was musing,
+two things happened simultaneously: Bob and Thomas appeared from the
+house, and a familiar voice came to him from the opposite direction.
+
+"Nod!" called the voice. "Nod, will you please come here a moment?"
+
+Laurie's eyes sought the board fence. Over the top of it appeared the
+head and shoulders of Polly. He left the wheelbarrow and hurried through
+the arbor and down the walk beyond. Polly's face indicated distress,
+whether mental or physical Laurie couldn't determine. But Polly's first
+words explained.
+
+"I can't stay here l-long," she said. "I--I'm just hanging by my elbows.
+I cl-climbed up on a board, and it's fallen down!"
+
+"I'll get you a ladder!" cried Laurie, gallantly.
+
+"N-no, never mind. I'm going to drop in a s-second. I just want to ask
+you what Brown's color is. Nettie Blanchard is going to be Brown and--"
+
+"Why, brown, of course!"
+
+"Oh!" There was the sound of desperate scraping against the farther side
+of the fence, and Polly's countenance became fairly convulsed with the
+effort of holding herself in sight. "Oh! She said it was pur-pur--"
+
+Polly disappeared. There was a thud from the next yard.
+
+"Purple!" The word floated across to him, muffled but triumphant.
+
+"Are you hurt, Polly?" he called anxiously.
+
+"Not a bit," was the rueful response, "but I'm afraid the day-lilies
+are!" Then she laughed merrily. "Thanks, Nod! I didn't think Nettie was
+right. She loves purple, you see!"
+
+"Does she? Well, say, maybe she can be Williams. We weren't going to
+have Williams, but its color is purple, I think, and if she is going to
+be disappointed--"
+
+"She will look very well indeed in brown," came from the other side in
+judicial tones; "and if we begin making changes, half the girls will
+want to be something they aren't. Why, Pearl Fayles begged to be some
+girls' college neither Mae nor I had ever heard of, just so she could
+wear lavender and pale lemon!"
+
+"Well, all right," laughed Laurie. "She'd better stick to Brown--and
+brown! Good-by, Polly. I'll drop in after a while and find out how
+things are getting on."
+
+He turned to find Bob viewing him quizzically from the end of the arbor,
+swinging a hammer in each hand. "Of course it's all right, I dare say,"
+he announced, "but I _thought_ you came here to fix up the arbor.
+Instead of that I find you talking to girls over the fence!"
+
+"There's only one girl," replied Laurie, with dignity, "and we were
+talking business."
+
+"Oh, of course! Sorry I interrupted."
+
+"You needn't be, and you didn't. Quit grinning like a simpleton and give
+me a hammer!"
+
+"Right-o! Come on, Thomas! It's quite all right now!"
+
+An hour later their task was done, and well done, and they viewed it
+with approval. To be honest, the major part of the work had been
+performed by the faithful Thomas, although it is not to be denied that
+both Laurie and Bob toiled conscientiously. Before they were through
+approving the result from various angles, Bob's father joined them. Mr.
+Starling was an older edition of Bob--a tall, straight, lean-visaged man
+of forty-two or -three, with the complexion of one who had lived an
+outdoor life. He had a deep, pleasant voice and a quiet manner not fully
+in accord with a pair of keen eyes and a firm mouth.
+
+"I'd call that a good piece of work, boys," he said, as he joined them.
+"And right up to specifications, too. Those paper lanterns come yet,
+Bob?"
+
+"No, sir; I haven't seen them."
+
+"Lanterns, Mr. Starling?" asked Laurie. "Do you mean Chinese lanterns?
+We've ordered a lot from the caterer, sir."
+
+"Tell him you won't need them, then. I've got a hundred coming up from
+the city, Turner. They ought to be here, too. Thomas, call up the
+express company and ask about them."
+
+"That's very kind, sir," said Laurie, "but you needn't have done it.
+You--you're doing _everything_!"
+
+"Nonsense! Bob and I want to do our part, of course. Well, this
+wilderness certainly looks different, doesn't it? That reminds me, Bob;
+the agent writes me that we may 'make such improvements to the property
+as we desire.' So, as I consider the absence of that arbor an
+improvement, I guess you can pull it down any time you like. I'm going
+to have a cup of tea, Turner. Will you join me? I believe there will be
+cakes, too."
+
+Laurie found Ned in rather a low frame of mind when he got back to
+Number 16 a half-hour before supper-time. Ned was hunched over a Latin
+book and each hand held a firm grip on his hair. At Laurie's arrival he
+merely grunted.
+
+"Where does it pain you most?" asked Laurie, solicitously, subsiding
+into a chair with a weary sigh. Ned's mood was far from flippant. He
+rewarded the other with a scowl, and bent his gaze on the book again.
+"Want to hear the latest news from the front?" persisted Laurie.
+
+"No, I don't!" his brother growled. "I've had all the news I can stand.
+Smug says that if I don't get this rotten stuff by nine to-night, and
+make a perfect showing to-morrow, he will can me!"
+
+"Mr. Cornish said that?" gasped Laurie. "What do you know about that?
+Why, I thought he was a gentleman!"
+
+"He's a--a brute! I can't learn the old stuff! And I have a hunch that
+Mulford means to give me a try in the Loring game Saturday. And if I
+don't get this, Cornish will fix it so I can't play. He as good as said
+so."
+
+"Didn't you tell him you'd been busy with the fete and everything?"
+
+"Of course I did. Much he cared! Just made a rotten pun. Said I'd better
+keep my own fate in mind. Puns are fearfully low and vulgar!"
+
+"Aren't they? How much of that have you got?"
+
+"Six pages. I--I've sort of neglected it the last two days. Some fellows
+can fake through, but I don't have any luck. He's always picking on me."
+
+Laurie whistled expressively. "Six pages! Well, never say die, partner.
+We'll get down to supper early, and that'll give us two hours before
+nine."
+
+"Us?" questioned Ned, hopefully.
+
+"Sure. I'll give you a hand. As the well-known proverb so wisely
+remarks, two heads are the shortest way home."
+
+Ned grinned, and stopped tormenting his hair. "Honest? That's mighty
+decent, Laurie. I'll do as much for you some day."
+
+"Hope you won't have to. Wash your dirty face and let's beat it!"
+
+At half-past nine a more cheerful and much relieved Ned returned from
+the hall master's study. "All right," he announced to an anxious Laurie.
+"He was rather decent, too. Said he guessed that, in view of the
+manifold affairs engaging my attention just now,--you know the crazy way
+he talks,--he wouldn't demand too much from me. Reckon he means to let
+me down easy to-morrow, eh?"
+
+"Maybe, partner, and maybe not. Take my advice and, in the words of the
+Scouts, be prepared!"
+
+Friday was a hectic day for Laurie and all others concerned with the
+fete. Difficulties that had remained in ambush all the week sprang out
+and confronted them at the last moment. Half a dozen things had been
+forgotten, and every member of the committee sought to exonerate
+himself. Tempers were short and the meeting in Dan Whipple's room at
+nine o'clock was far from harmonious. All went to bed that night firmly
+convinced that the affair was doomed to be a flat failure. And, to add
+to that conviction, the night sky was overcast and an unsympathetic
+easterly wind was blowing. Ned, conscious of having imposed too many
+duties on Laurie, was grouchy and silent; and Laurie, convinced that he
+had been made a "goat" of, and that Ned was secretly blaming him for
+mistakes and omissions that were no fault of his, retired in high
+dudgeon.
+
+And yet, the morning dawned fair and warm, with an almost cloudless blue
+sky over the world, and life looked very different indeed. Ned arose
+whistling, and Laurie somehow knew that everything would be all right.
+Fortunately, they had but two recitations on Saturday, and in
+consequence there remained to them three whole hours before dinner to
+devote to the affairs of the entertainment. They were busy hours, you
+may be sure. If Ned hurried downtown once, he hurried there half a dozen
+times; while Laurie, seated beside the driver of a rickety
+express-wagon, rounded up all kinds of things, from the platform at the
+field-house to the cakes at Miss Comfort's. Dinner brought a respite;
+but as soon as it was over, Laurie was back on the job, while Ned joined
+the football-players.
+
+Of course, what the Hillman's School football team should have done that
+afternoon was to score a decisive victory over the visiting eleven. What
+it did do was to get thoroughly worsted. Loring was something of a
+surprise, with a heavier line and a faster bunch of backs than Hillman's
+had expected. And Loring knew a lot of football, and proved the fact
+early in the game. At half-past two, by which time the second period was
+half over, the result was a foregone conclusion. Loring had scored two
+touch-downs and as many goals therefrom, and the Blue had never once
+threatened the adversary's last white line. Gains through the opponent
+were infrequent and short, even Pope, who could generally be depended on
+to tear off a few yards when the worst came to the worst, failing
+dismally.
+
+In mid-field, Mason and Slavin made some stirring advances around the
+Loring wings, and there were several successful forward passes to the
+home team's credit; but, once past Loring's thirty-yard line, Hillman's
+seemed powerless. The third quarter went scoreless, and in the fourth,
+realizing doubtless that defeat was certain, Coach Mulford used his
+substitutes lavishly. Ned made his first appearance on the big team in
+that period, taking Mason's place for some eight of the fifteen minutes.
+He did neither better nor worse than the other second- and third-string
+fellows, perhaps--although, when Pope was taken out and Deering
+substituted at full-back, he did his share of the punting and performed
+very creditably. But that fourth period gave Loring an opportunity to
+add to her score, and she seized it. Even with several substitutes in
+her own line-up, she was still far better than Hillman's, and a goal
+from the field and, in the last few moments of the game, a third
+touch-down, resulted.
+
+The Blue fought desperately and gamely with her back to the wall, in an
+effort to stave off that last score; but eventually Holmes, who had
+taken Kewpie's place at center, weakened, and the Loring back piled
+through. The final score was 23 to 0, and what two hours before had been
+looked on as a victory or, at the worst, a tie, had become a cataclysm!
+Humiliated, if not disgraced, the home-team players trailed to the
+field-house with hanging heads, averting their eyes from the sight of
+Loring's triumphal march around the gridiron.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV--THE FETE
+
+
+Behold Fairyland!
+
+Well, at least an excellent imitation of what Fairyland must look like.
+Overhead, a clear, star-sprinkled sky; below, scores of gaily-hued
+lanterns shedding their soft glow over a charming scene. Through the
+side gate, please, on School Park. Twenty-five cents to the boy on duty
+there, and you are inside, with the manifold attractions awaiting you.
+On three sides of the transformed garden are the college booths, each
+decked with bunting and flags of appropriate colors, and each presided
+over by a patriotically attired young lady who will gladly, nay,
+eagerly, sell you almost anything from a cake of soap ("Donated by the
+Town Square Pharmacy, H. J. Congreve, Prop'r.") to a knitted sweater or
+a gingham house-dress ("Compliments of The New York Store, High Class
+Dry Goods"). Near at hand, Yale is represented by Miss Polly Deane,
+capped and aproned in blue, her eyes sparkling and her voice sweetly
+insistent: "Won't you buy something, please, sir? Post-cards, two for
+five! These pictures are only fifty cents, all beautifully framed and
+ready for hanging! Can I sell you something, ma'am?"
+
+Beyond, gay with orange and black, is the Princeton booth; and still
+beyond, Dartmouth and Columbia and California; and then, a blur of
+brilliant crimson through the leafage, Harvard. And so on all around the
+garden, with merry voices sounding above the chatter of the throng that
+moves here and there. Down the center of Fairyland runs a leafy tunnel
+from within which blue and red and yellow and green rays twinkle. There,
+under the hanging lanterns, little tables and chairs are dotted on the
+gravel, and half a dozen aproned youths are busy bearing, not always
+without mishap, plates of salad and rolls and dishes of ice-cream and
+cake. Close to the back of the house is a platform illumined by a row of
+electric lights, the one glaring spot in the area of soft radiance.
+
+"How's it going?" asked a heavily-built youth of a slimmer one who had
+paused at the entrance to the arbor.
+
+"Hello, Kewpie! Oh, bully, so far. We took in eighty-four dollars this
+afternoon, and we'll do at least twice as well to-night. They're still
+coming. Have you seen Whipple anywhere?"
+
+"Yes, a minute ago, down at the Pennsylvania booth. She's a mighty
+pretty girl, too, Nod. I bought a pocket-knife of her for a quarter, and
+got stung; but I don't mind. I'm going back to get another pretty soon.
+When do I have to sing again?"
+
+"You follow Wilson's clog-dance. We're switching you and Cheesman,
+Kewpie. His stuff is corking, but it's pretty high-brow, and we thought
+you'd better bring up the end and make the audience feel cheerful."
+
+"All right; but it won't feel very cheerful if those orchestra guys
+don't do better than they did this afternoon. They were four or five
+notes behind me once! Nid said you had a new stunt this
+evening--something you left out this afternoon."
+
+"Yes; we couldn't work it in daylight very well. It ought to go fine
+to-night, though."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"You wait and see. I've got to find Whipple. Say, if you see Ned, tell
+him I'll be at the platform in five minutes and want him to meet me
+there. Everybody keeps getting lost here!"
+
+On the way past the arbor, Laurie ran into George Watson, returning
+across lots balancing a couple of plates in one hand and holding a large
+slab of cake in the other, from which he nibbled as he went. "Hello!" he
+said, none too distinctly. "I've been looking for you."
+
+"Wanted to bring me refreshments, I suppose."
+
+George looked at the empty plates, laughed, and shook his head. "Not
+exactly. I've been feeding Cornell. Somebody ought to take eats to those
+girls, Nod; they're starving!"
+
+"All right; you do it."
+
+"What do you think I am? A millionaire? I bought Mae a salad and an
+ice-cream, and I'm about broke. Lend me a half, will you? Thanks. Want
+an ice-cream? I'll treat."
+
+"No, thanks. Have you seen Dan Whipple?"
+
+"Sure! He's over at the Pennsylvania booth, buying it out! Say,
+everything's going great, isn't it? Couldn't have had a finer evening,
+either, what? Well, see you later. I'm hungry!" And George continued his
+way to the house, where Miss Tabitha, surrounded by willing and hungry
+helpers, presided sternly, but most capably, over the refreshments.
+
+At eight o'clock the boy on duty at the entrance estimated the
+attendance as close to two hundred, which, added to the eighty-six paid
+admissions before supper, brought the total close to the first estimate
+of three hundred. It is safe to say that every Hillman's boy attended
+the fete either in the afternoon or evening, and that most of the
+faculty came and brought Mrs. Faculty--when there was a Mrs. Faculty.
+Doctor Hillman was spied by Laurie purchasing a particularly useless and
+unlovely article in burnt wood from the auburn-haired Miss Hatch. Every
+one seemed to be having a good time, and the only fly in the ointment of
+the committee was the likelihood that the refreshments would be
+exhausted far too soon.
+
+The Weather Man had kindly provided an evening of exceptional warmth,
+with scarcely enough breeze to sway the paper lanterns that glowed from
+end to end of the old garden, an evening so warm that ice-cream was more
+in demand than sandwiches or salad; and fortunately so, since ice-cream
+was the one article of refreshment that could be and was replenished.
+If, said Ned, folks would stick to ice-cream and go light on the other
+refreshments, they might get through. To which Laurie agreed, and Ned
+hied him to the telephone and ordered another freezer sent up.
+
+At a few minutes after eight the Banjo and Mandolin Club took possession
+of the chairs behind the platform and dashed into a military march.
+Following that, six picked members of the Gymnastic Club did some very
+clever work, and Cheesman, a tall and rather soulful-looking upper
+middler, sang two ballads very well indeed, and then, as an encore,
+quite took the joy out of life with "Suwanee River"! Little Miss
+Comfort, present through the courtesy of the Committee on Arrangements,
+sniffled quite audibly, but was heard to declare that "it was just too
+sweet for anything!" A rather embarrassed junior attempted some card
+tricks that didn't go very well, and then Wilson, garbed more or less in
+the character of an Irish gentleman returning from Donnybrook Fair, and
+swinging a shillaly, did some jig-dancing that was really clever and won
+much applause.
+
+There was a brief unofficial intermission while three anxious committee
+members made search for Kewpie Proudtree. He was presently discovered
+consuming his fourth plate of ice-cream in the seclusion of the side
+porch, and was haled away, protesting, to the platform. In spite of what
+may seem an over-indulgence in refreshment, Kewpie was in excellent
+voice and a jovial mood, and sang four rollicking songs in a manner that
+captured his audience. In fact, long after Kewpie had vanished from the
+public gaze and returned to his ice-cream, the audience still demanded
+more.
+
+Its attention was eventually captured, however, by Dan Whipple, who
+announced importantly that it gave him much pleasure to say that, at a
+great expense, the committee had secured as an added attraction the
+world-famed Signor Duodelli, who, with their kind permission, would
+exhibit for their pleasure and astoundment his miraculous act known as
+the Vanishing Man, as performed before the crowned heads of Europe, to
+the bewilderment and applause of all beholders. "Ladies and gentlemen,
+Signor Duodelli!"
+
+The Signor had a noticeable likeness to Lew Cooper, in spite of his
+gorgeous mustache and flowing robe of red and purple cheese-cloth. Yet
+it might not have been Lew, for his manner was extremely foreign and his
+gestures and the few words he used in directing the arranging of his
+"properties" were unmistakably Latin. The properties consisted of a
+kitchen chair, a threefold screen covered with black baize, and a coil
+of rope. There was also in evidence a short wand, but the Signor held
+that in his hand, waving it around most eloquently. The audience laughed
+and applauded and waited patiently until the chair had been placed
+exactly to the Signor's liking, close to the back of the platform, and
+the screen beside it. Previously several of the lights had been put out,
+and those that remained threw their glare on the front of the stage,
+leaving the back, while discernible, less in evidence.
+
+"Now," announced the Signor, narrowly escaping from falling off the
+platform as he tripped over his robe, "I aska da some one coma up and
+giva da help. Any one I aska. You, Signor, maybe, eh?" The magician
+pointed his wand at Mr. Cornish, in the front of the clustered audience;
+but the gentleman laughingly declined. The Signor seemed disappointed.
+"No-o-o? You no geta da hurt. Some one else, eh?" He looked invitingly
+around, and a small junior, urged by his companions, struggled to the
+front. Unfortunately for his ambitions to pose in the lime-light, the
+Signor's glance had moved to another quarter, and, ere the junior could
+get his attention, a volunteer appeared from the semi-obscurity of the
+kitchen porch. He was peculiarly attired, wearing a simple white garment
+having a strong resemblance to the old-fashioned night-shirt, that
+covered him completely from neck to ankles. He was bareheaded, revealing
+the fact that his locks were red-brown in hue.
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed the Signor, delightedly. "You will helpa me, _si_? Right
+thisa way, Signor. I thanka you!"
+
+"That's one of the Turner fellows," muttered a boy, while the small
+junior and his companions called "Fake!" loudly. However, the
+good-natured laughter of the audience drowned the accusation, and some
+two hundred pairs of eyes watched amusedly and expectantly while, with
+the assistance of two other volunteers, the youth in the white robe was
+tied securely to the chair.
+
+"Maka him tight," directed the Signor, enthusiastically, waving his
+wand. "Pulla da knot. Ha, thata da way! Good! Signors, I thanka you!"
+
+The two who had tied the victim to the chair retired from the platform.
+The Signor seized the screen and opened it wide and turned it around and
+closed it and turned it again.
+
+"You seea?" he demanded. "There is nothing that deceive! Now, then, I
+placea da screen so!" He folded it around the boy and the chair, leaving
+only the side away from the audience uncovered. He drew away the width
+of the platform, and, "Music, ifa you please," he requested. The
+orchestra, whose members had moved their chairs to one side, struck up a
+merry tune, and the Signor, folding his arms, bent a rapt gaze on the
+blank, impenetrable blackness of the screen. A brief moment passed. Then
+the Signor bade the music cease, took a step forward, and pointed to the
+screen.
+
+"Away!" he cried, and swung his arm in a half-circle, his body following
+with a weird flaring of his brilliant robes until, with outstretched
+finger, he faced the audience. "Ha! He come! Thisa way, Signor! Comea
+quick!"
+
+As one man the audience turned and followed the pointing finger. Through
+the deserted arbor came a boy in a white garment. He pushed his way
+through the throng and jumped to the stage. As he did so, the Signor
+whisked aside the screen. There was the chair empty, and there was the
+rope dangling from it, twisted and knotted.
+
+A moment of surprised silence gave place to hearty applause.
+Theoretically it might have been possible for the boy in the chair to
+vanish from behind the screen, reach the farther end of the garden, and
+run back into sight; but actually, as the audience realized on second
+thought, it couldn't possibly have been done in the few seconds, surely
+not more than ten, that had elapsed between the placing of the screen
+and the appearance of the boy behind them. And then, how had he got
+himself free from the rope? An audience likes to be puzzled, and this
+one surely was. The garden hummed with conjecture and discussion. There
+were some there who could have explained the seeming phenomenon, but
+they held their counsel.
+
+Meanwhile, on the platform the Signor was modestly bowing alternately to
+the audience and to his subject, the latter apparently no worse for his
+magic transposition. And the orchestra again broke into its interrupted
+melody. The applause became insistent, but Signor Duodelli, perhaps
+because his contract with the committee called for no further evidence
+of his powers, only bowed and bowed and at last disappeared into the
+obscurity of the shadows. Whereupon the Banjo and Mandolin Club moved
+into the house, and presently the strains of a one-step summoned the
+dancers to the big drawing-room.
+
+Laurie, unconsciously rubbing a wrist, smiled as he listened to the
+comments of the dissolving audience. "Well, but there's no getting
+around the fact that it was the same boy," declared a pompous little
+gentleman to his companion. "Same hair and eyes and everything! Couldn't
+be two boys as much alike, eh? Not possibly! Very clever!"
+
+Laurie chuckled as he made his way to Polly's booth. That young lady
+looked a little tired, and, by the same token, so did the Yale booth!
+Only a bare dozen framed pictures and a small number of post-cards
+remained of her stock. "Don't you think I've done awfully well?" asked
+Polly, a trifle pathetically. She seemed to need praise, and Laurie
+supplied it.
+
+"Corking, Polly," he assured her. "I guess you've sold more than any of
+the others, haven't you?"
+
+"N-no, I guess some of the others have done better, Nod; but I think
+they had more attractive articles, don't you? Anyhow, I've taken in
+twelve dollars and thirty cents since supper, and I made four dollars
+and eighty-five cents this afternoon; only I must have dropped a dime
+somewhere, for I'm ten cents short. Or perhaps someone didn't give me
+the right amount."
+
+"Why, that's seventeen dollars!" exclaimed Laurie. "I didn't think you
+had anywhere near seventeen dollars' worth of things here, Polly!"
+
+"Oh, I didn't! Not nearly! Why, if I'd sold things at the prices marked
+on them, Nod, I wouldn't have had more than half as much! But lots of
+folks _wanted_ to pay more, and I let them. Mr. Conklin, the jeweler,
+bought a picture, one of the funny landscapes with the frames that
+didn't fit at the corners, and he said it was ridiculous to sell it for
+a quarter, and he gave me a dollar for it. Then he held the picture up
+and just laughed and laughed at it! I guess he just wanted to spend his
+money, don't you? You know, Ned said we were to get as much as we could
+for things, so I usually added ten cents to the price that was marked on
+them--sometimes more, if a person looked extravagant. One lady came back
+and said she'd paid twenty-five cents for a picture and it was marked
+fifteen on the back. I said I was sorry she was dissatisfied and I'd be
+very glad to buy it back from her for twenty."
+
+Laurie laughed. "What did she say to that?" he asked.
+
+"She said if I wanted it bad enough to pay twenty cents for it she
+guessed it was worth twenty-five, and went off and didn't come back."
+Polly laughed and then sighed. "I'm awfully tired. Doesn't that music
+sound lovely? Do you dance?"
+
+Laurie shook his head. "No; but, say, if you want to go in there, I'll
+watch the booth for you."
+
+Polly hesitated. "It's funny you don't," she said. "Don't you like it?"
+
+It was Laurie's turn to hesitate. "No, not much. I never have danced.
+It--it seems sort of silly." He looked at Polly doubtfully. Although he
+wouldn't have acknowledged it, he was more than half sorry that dancing
+was not included among his accomplishments.
+
+"It isn't silly at all," asserted Polly, almost indignantly. "You ought
+to learn. Mae could teach you to one-step in no time at all!"
+
+"I guess that's about the way I'd do it," answered Laurie, sadly--"in no
+time at all! Don't you--couldn't _you_ teach a fellow?"
+
+"I don't believe so. I never tried to teach any one. Besides, Mae dances
+lots better than I do. She put the things she had left on Grace
+Boswell's booth and went inside the minute the music started. She wanted
+me to come, but I thought I shouldn't," added Polly, virtuously.
+
+"You go ahead now," urged Laurie. "I'll stay here till you come back. It
+isn't fair for you girls to miss the dancing. Besides, I guess there
+won't be much more sold now. Folks have begun to go, some of them, and
+most of the others are inside."
+
+Polly looked toward the house. Through the big wide-open windows the
+lilting music of a waltz floated out. The Banjo and Mandolin Club was
+really doing very well to-night. Polly sighed once and looked wistful.
+Then she shook her head. "Thanks, Nod," she said, "but I guess I'll stay
+here. Some one _might_ come."
+
+"What do you care? You don't own 'em! Anyway, I guess I could sell a
+post-card if I had to!"
+
+"You'd have trouble selling any of those pictures," laughed Polly.
+"Aren't they dreadful? Where did they come from?"
+
+"Pretty fierce," Laurie agreed. "They came from the Metropolitan
+Furniture Store. The man dug them out of a corner in the cellar. I guess
+he'd had them for years! Anyway, there was enough dust on them to choke
+you. He seemed awfully tickled when we agreed to take them and let him
+alone!"
+
+"I should think he might have! We girls agreed to buy things from each
+other, just to help, but the only things they bought from me were
+post-cards!" Polly laughed as though at some thought; and Laurie, who
+had elevated himself to an empty corner of the booth and was swinging
+his feet against the blue draping in front, looked inquiringly. "I was
+just thinking about the boys," explained Polly.
+
+"What about them? What boys do you mean?" Laurie asked coldly.
+
+"The high school boys. They're awfully peeved because we girls took part
+in this, and not one of them has been here, I guess."
+
+"Cheeky beggars," grumbled Laurie. "Guess we can do without them,
+though. Here comes Bob's father."
+
+Mr. Starling was bent on a most peculiar mission. Laurie and Polly
+watched him stop at the next booth and engage in conversation. Then a
+fat pocket-book was produced, a bill was tendered, and Mr. Starling
+strolled on. At the Yale booth he stopped again.
+
+"Well, Turner," he greeted, "this affair looks like a huge success,
+doesn't it? Why aren't you young folks inside there, dancing?"
+
+"I don't dance, sir," answered Laurie, somewhat to his chagrin in a most
+apologetic tone. "And Polly thinks she ought to stand by the ship. This
+is Polly Deane, Mr. Starling."
+
+Bob's father shook hands cordially across the depleted counter and
+assured its proprietor that he was very glad indeed to make her
+acquaintance. Then he added: "But you don't seem to have much left, Miss
+Polly. Now, I'm a great hand at a bargain. I dare say that if you made
+me a fair price for what there is here I'd jump at it. What do you say?"
+
+Polly apparently didn't know just what to say for a minute, and her gaze
+sought counsel of Laurie.
+
+"If you ask me," laughed the latter, "I'd say fifty cents was a big
+price for the lot!"
+
+"You're not in charge," said Mr. Starling, almost severely. "I'm sure
+the young lady has better business ability. Suppose you name a price,
+Miss Polly."
+
+"We-ell--" Polly did some mental arithmetic, and then, doubtfully: "A
+dollar and a half, sir," she said.
+
+"Done!" replied Mr. Starling. He drew forth a two-dollar bill. "There
+you are! Just leave the things where they are. I'll look after them
+later. Now you youngsters go in and dance. What's this? Change? My dear
+young lady, don't you know that change is never given at an affair of
+this kind? I really couldn't think of taking it. It--it's a criminal
+offense!" And Mr. Starling nodded and walked away.
+
+"By Jove, he's a brick!" exclaimed Laurie, warmly. "Look, he's doing the
+same thing everywhere!"
+
+"I know," answered Polly, watching. "It's just dear of him, isn't it?
+But, Nod, _what_ do you suppose he will do with these awful pictures?"
+
+"The same thing he will do with that truck he's buying now," was the
+laughing reply. "He will probably put them in the furnace!"
+
+"Well," said Polly, after a moment, "I suppose we might as well go
+inside, don't you? We can look on, anyway, and"--with a stifled
+sigh--"I'd 'most as lief look on as dance."
+
+Laurie followed, for the second time in his life wishing that the
+Terpsichorean art had been included in his education!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV--NED HAS AN IDEA
+
+
+"Three hundred and thirty-three dollars and eighty-five cents," said
+Ned, in very satisfied tones. "We took in three hundred and sixty-three
+five, but we had twenty-nine twenty to come out for expenses. Not so
+bad, what?"
+
+"But something tells me," answered Laurie, mournfully, "that if all our
+expenses were deducted we'd have less than that. You see," he explained
+to Polly, "I lost the piece of paper that I set down the money I paid
+out on, and I just had to guess what it all came to, because I'd never
+had time to add it up."
+
+"I dare say you guessed enough," replied Ned, untroubled.
+
+"I dare say I didn't, then!" was the indignant response. "If I did,
+where's all the money I had when I started? I've got a dollar and ninety
+cents left, and I had over four dollars when you roped me in on the
+thing! I'm more than two dollars shy, I tell you!"
+
+"Oh, well, it's gone for a worthy cause," laughed Ned.
+
+"Maybe," Laurie grumbled, "but I notice that none of yours has gone that
+way. You always made me pay for everything!"
+
+"Well, I think you did it beautifully," said Polly. "I never suspected
+you'd make so much!"
+
+They were in the little garden behind the shop. It was the second day
+after the fete, and the bell in the Congregational church tower had just
+struck two. There was a perceptible nip in the air to-day, and the
+flowers in the border showed blackened leaves, while the nasturtiums
+were frankly limp and lifeless. But here in the sunshine it was warm
+enough, and Laurie, spurning the bench, was seated tailor fashion on the
+yellowing turf. Polly had stated her absolute certitude that he would
+catch cold, but Laurie derided the idea.
+
+"We're awfully much obliged to you girls," said Ned. "We wouldn't have
+done nearly so well if you hadn't helped. I think the committee ought to
+give you a--a vote of thanks or something."
+
+"Oh, we all loved it!" Polly assured him earnestly. "We had heaps of
+fun. Why, I wouldn't have missed that disappearing trick for anything. I
+was positively thrilled when Laurie came running up the garden!"
+
+The boys' laughter interrupted, and Polly looked puzzled.
+
+"That wasn't Laurie," explained Ned. "That was me."
+
+"But I was sure you were the one in the chair! And if you were in the
+chair, how could you--"
+
+"I wasn't, though. That was Laurie."
+
+Polly sighed despairingly. "I'll never get so I can tell you apart," she
+said; "unless I hear you talk, that is! I don't see yet how it was done.
+Won't you please tell me?"
+
+"It was as easy as easy," replied Ned. "You see, the way I planned it
+first--"
+
+"The way _who_ planned it?" inquired Laurie.
+
+"Well, the way _we_ planned it, then."
+
+"Hold on! Whose idea was it in the first place, partner?"
+
+"Oh, don't be so fussy! Anyway, you couldn't have done it without me!"
+
+"I never said I could. But you've got a lot of cheek to talk about the
+way _you--_"
+
+Polly clapped her hands to her ears. "I'm not being told how it was
+done, and I do want to know. Go on, Ned."
+
+"Well, it was done like this. You see, Laurie was tied to the chair, and
+I was hiding out at the other end of the garden. Then Lew Cooper put the
+screen around the chair." Polly nodded. "Then I started toward the
+platform, and every one turned to look at me." Polly nodded again.
+"Well, right behind the platform was the bulkhead door into the cellar.
+When Cooper shouted to me to come on, two fellows who were on the stairs
+waiting pushed the door open, grabbed Laurie, chair and all, and whisked
+him down cellar. Then they put another chair, just like the first one,
+behind the screen, and when Cooper pulled the screen away, there it was,
+just as if Laurie had somehow untied himself and--and vanished! Of
+course, if any one had been looking at the screen instead of at me just
+then, he might have seen what was going on, although it was pretty dark
+behind there and he mightn't have. Anyway, no one was, I guess. The
+trick depended on the--the faint similarity between us. Lots of fellows
+who knew us were on to it, but the folks from the village were puzzled
+for fair!"
+
+"Indeed they were," agreed Polly. "They just couldn't understand it at
+all!"
+
+"It would have been better," mused Laurie, "if we could have taken the
+screen away and showed the empty chair before Ned came into sight; but
+there didn't seem to be any way of doing that. We had to have the people
+looking the other way, and we had to work quick. As it was, I was half
+killed, for Wainwright and Plummer were in such a hurry to get the other
+chair up there that they just dumped me on my back! And then they ran
+upstairs through the kitchen to see the end of it, and I was kicking
+around down there for five minutes!"
+
+"Well," said Ned, a few minutes later, "I'm not finding out what to do
+with this." He opened one hand and exposed some bills and two ten-cent
+pieces folded into a wad. "Your mother says she won't take it,
+Polly--that she didn't understand we were going to pay her for the
+cream-puffs. Gee, we wouldn't have thought of asking her to make them
+for nothing!"
+
+Polly nodded sympathetically. "Mother says, though, that the boys bring
+so much trade to her that it's only fair for her to help them."
+
+"That's poppy-cock!" said Laurie. "Seven dollars and twenty cents is a
+lot of money. Look here; don't you think she ought to take it, Polly?"
+
+Polly was silent a moment. Then she nodded affirmatively. "Yes, I do,"
+she said frankly. "She really needs the money, Ned. I wouldn't tell any
+one else, but we're just frightfully hard up, and I wouldn't be a bit
+surprised if Mother had to give up here before very long."
+
+"Give up!" exclaimed Ned. "You mean--go away?"
+
+"Yes. You see, she doesn't make very much money in the store; nothing
+like she used to before the war sent prices so high. And then, what with
+taxes and water and light, and the interest on the mortgage, why, it
+hardly pays. Just the same, if she says she won't take the money, Ned,
+why, I guess she won't, and that's all there is to it. But she ought
+to!"
+
+"Can't she charge more for things?" asked Laurie. "Everyone else does
+nowadays. That bake-shop down on Hudson Street gets eight cents for
+cream-puffs and eclairs, and you sell them for six."
+
+"I know; but Mama says six cents is enough and that the boys oughtn't to
+have to pay any more. And lots of things she sells for hardly any more
+than she used to before prices advanced. Why, I have to watch all the
+time; and when bills come in for things, I have to compare them with
+what we're getting for them, and lots of times I find that Mama's been
+selling for less than what she's paid! She just won't be a profiteer,
+she says!"
+
+"Gee! I hope you don't have to shut up," said Laurie. He looked around
+the little garden. "It--it's such a jolly place! And the house and
+everything. Gee, that would be a shame!"
+
+Polly sighed while she nodded. "It is nice," she agreed; "but there are
+so many things that ought to be done! Uncle Peter never would do much
+for us. He did promise to have the house painted, but he died about a
+month after that, and so it was never done."
+
+"Suppose he up and died so's he wouldn't have to do it?" inquired
+Laurie, suspiciously.
+
+Polly shook her head and looked a trifle shocked, until she caught the
+smile in Ned's eyes.
+
+"It doesn't look as if it would cost much money to paint it," remarked
+Ned, looking up at the rear of the little two-and-a-half-story building.
+"It's not much more than a doll's house, anyway. How many rooms are
+there, Polly?"
+
+"Three upstairs, and then a sort of attic room under the roof; and two
+downstairs."
+
+"Uh-huh. I just wondered. It wouldn't be much of a trick to paint the
+outside. Bet you I could do it in a couple of days."
+
+Laurie gasped. "A couple of days! You? How do you get like that? It
+would take a real painter a week to do it!"
+
+"Maybe; but I'm not a real painter," answered Ned, grinning. He glanced
+at the crumpled wad in his hand and held it tentatively toward Polly.
+"Maybe you'd better take charge of this, Polly, until we decide what to
+do with it."
+
+But Polly put her hands resolutely behind her, and shook her head with
+decision. "No, Ned, I'd rather not. If Mama says she won't have it, she
+won't, and you might just as well give it back to the--the fund."
+
+Somewhat to Laurie's surprise, Ned pocketed the money without further
+protest. "All right," he said. "It's very kind of your mother. We
+mustn't forget to see that her name's included in the list of those who
+donated things, Laurie. This week's 'Messenger' is going to tell all
+about it. Well, I've got to pull my freight. You coming, partner?"
+
+"Yes, I guess so," replied Laurie, without much enthusiasm. "I promised
+Bob and George to get another fellow and play some tennis this
+afternoon."
+
+"Gee! it must be great to have nothing to do but play," sighed his
+brother.
+
+"Huh, any one would think, to hear you talk, that you were working,"
+replied Laurie, crushingly. "All you do is stand around and watch the
+others."
+
+"Think so?" Ned smiled in a superior way. "You come down this afternoon
+and see how much standing around I do. Joe Stevenson says I've got to
+practise goals now. Isn't that the limit?"
+
+"I suppose it pains him to see you loafing," said Laurie. "Anyway, I
+dare say it'll keep you out of mischief."
+
+Laurie led the way to the back fence, against which leaned a plank with
+two pieces of wood nailed across it. This afforded a short cut to and
+from school, and was an idea of Bob's. From the top of the fence they
+dropped into the shrubbery and then made their way to the side gate.
+
+The arbor had not yet been denuded of its evergreen clothing, and there
+were other evidences of the recent festival in the shape of crumpled
+paper napkins lying on the ground. Thomas had taken down the lanterns
+and was packing them away in their case by the kitchen porch, and the
+boys called a greeting to him as they passed.
+
+"Bob still mean to make a tennis-court here?" asked Ned, as they went
+through the gate.
+
+"Yes. He's going to tear down that arbor right away, he says. So far,
+though, he hasn't found any one to do the work on the court. Every one
+is busy. I don't believe he will get it done in time to use it this
+fall."
+
+"Of course he won't. It's nearly November now. Say, you'd better take
+this money and hand it over to Whipple. You'll see him before I do. And
+tell him to put Mrs. Deane's name down with the other folks who
+contributed, will you?"
+
+"All right; but I think it's a shame to let her stand for all those
+cakes."
+
+"So do I; only--"
+
+"Only what?"
+
+"Maybe we can make it up to her another way. I've got an idea, Laurie."
+
+"I hope it's better than most of 'em. What is it?"
+
+And when Ned had explained it, Laurie considered a long moment and then
+indorsed it enthusiastically. "That's corking!" he cried. "For once,
+Ned, the old bean has worked! Only, when could we--"
+
+"Christmas vacation," said Ned. "We won't have much to do then. What do
+you say?"
+
+"I say that, for the first time in my life, Neddie, I'm proud to
+acknowledge you as my twin!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI--POLLY TELLS A SPOOK STORY
+
+
+Assured of sufficient funds to complete its season without financial
+embarrassment, the Hillman's football team seemed to take a new and
+firmer grip on things. Practice went well that week, and the players
+showed vim and snap. Perhaps the colder weather helped, too. The line-up
+that faced the scrubs on Friday for a short scrimmage was, barring
+accidents, that which would, four weeks later, start the game against
+Hillman's old rival, Farview Academy. Farley and White were at the ends,
+Captain Stevenson and Pringle were the tackles, Emerson and Corson were
+the guards, and Kewpie Proudtree was at center. Frank Brattle at
+quarter, Mason and Slavin for halves, and Pope at full-back composed the
+rest of the team. There were some weak places, to be sure; but, on the
+whole, Coach Mulford was fairly satisfied that he had the parts for a
+capable machine.
+
+Ned was still playing on the scrub eleven, and doing rather well. As a
+punter, at least, he deserved his position at left half, and it might be
+that he would develop into a fair goal-kicker; for in the last four
+days, under the tuition of the coach and full-back Pope, he had shown
+excellent promise. Those morning lessons, now abandoned, had grounded
+Ned well in the art of toeing the pigskin, and, whatever fame the future
+might hold for him as punter or drop-kicker or place-kicker, much of the
+credit would be Kewpie's.
+
+To-day, in the second ten minutes of the scrimmaging,--there was but
+twenty minutes in all,--Thursby, playing quarter, and probably acting
+under instructions, gave Ned his first chance to show what he could do
+in the way of field goals. Unable to reach a point nearer than twenty
+yards to the school team's goal, Thursby called for "kick formation,
+Turner back," and Ned went up-field with his heart in his mouth.
+Although the cross-bar was less than thirty yards from where he took his
+stand and almost directly in front of him, it looked to Ned to be a
+woeful distance away and the angle much more severe than it was. But he
+didn't have much time for reflection, for Thursby called his signal
+quickly, and the leather came back to him at a good pass, and the school
+team was crashing through.
+
+Ned always thought that he closed his eyes when he swung his toe against
+the rebounding ball and trusted to luck, but I doubt it, for the pigskin
+described a perfect arc and went well and true over the bar, and if Ned
+had had his eyes closed I don't believe the pigskin would have acted
+that way at all. Most of the scrub team players thumped him on the back
+and showed their delight in other ways, for they had not scored on the
+school team for nearly a week; while, at a little distance, Coach
+Mulford nodded his head almost imperceptibly. It was too bad Ned didn't
+see that nod, for it would have pleased him far more than the buffets of
+his team-mates.
+
+The next day Hillman's made a trip to Warring and played the Lansing
+team to a standstill, returning with a 22-0 victory tucked under its
+belt. Ned got into the game for a bare five minutes at the last, as did
+half a dozen other substitutes; but he was not called on to kick any
+goals, for which he was at once sorry and glad. To have had the eyes of
+nearly a thousand persons on him would, he thought, have precluded any
+possibility of success; but, on the other hand, had he succeeded--He
+sighed for lost opportunities!
+
+The attendance that afternoon was a matter of great joy to Manager Dave
+Murray, for Hillman's went home with a neat sum as its share of the
+day's profits, a sum far larger than he had counted on--large enough, in
+fact, to make up the difference between the net receipts from the fete
+and the three hundred and fifty dollars aimed at.
+
+Hillman's good fortune held for another week. There were no accidents
+during practice; every fellow in the line-up played for all that was in
+him; and the scrubs took a licking every afternoon. Ned twice more
+gained glory as a drop-kicker, although on a third occasion he failed
+lamentably. Unfortunately, neither of his successes brought victory to
+his team, since the opponents had on each occasion a safe lead in the
+scoring. Every afternoon, following the scrimmage, Ned was presented by
+the coach with a nice battle-scarred football, and instructed to go down
+to the east goal and "put some over." Sometimes Hop Kendrick or Ben
+Thursby went with him to hold the ball while he tried placement-kicks,
+and always an unhappy substitute was delegated to retrieve the pigskin
+for him; but the coach let him pretty much alone, and Pope looked on
+only occasionally and was surprisingly sparing of comment or advice. And
+yet, Ned improved, rather to his surprise, since he felt himself
+neglected and, as he said to Laurie, didn't see how they expected a
+fellow to learn goal-kicking if they didn't show him a little! But,
+although he didn't realize it, Ned had reached a point in his
+development where he was best left to his own devices, and Coach Mulford
+knew it and forbore to risk confusing him with unnecessary instruction.
+So Ned pegged away doggedly, and got results, as he considered, in spite
+of the coach!
+
+Against the Queens Preparatory Institute, which journeyed up from the
+city on Saturday, the Blue was able to emerge from four grueling
+fifteen-minute periods with the score 6-6, from the Blue's standpoint a
+very satisfactory showing, for Q. P. I. was a much-heralded team and had
+downed stronger elevens than Hillman's. So November began its second
+week, and cloudy days and not infrequently rainy ones took the place of
+the sunny weather of October.
+
+Laurie would have been somewhat at a loss for a way in which to spend
+his afternoons at that time, had it not been for Bob Starling's
+overmastering desire to build a tennis-court in the garden of the
+Coventry place. The weather was far too cold for tennis, although now
+and then he and Bob played George and Lee Murdock, and the wrecking of
+the old grape-arbor, preparatory to digging up the sod, proved a welcome
+diversion. Sometimes Thomas took a hand; but Thomas had plenty to do
+indoors, and the work was accomplished almost wholly by Bob and Laurie,
+with the occasional moral support of George or Lee.
+
+Usually an hour's labor with hammer or crowbar ended with an adjournment
+to the Widow Deane's, by way of the back fence, for refreshments.
+Sometimes it was warm enough to foregather in the little garden behind
+the shop and, armed with cream-puffs or tarts, spend a jolly half-hour
+in the society of Polly and Mae. At such times Mrs. Deane, hearing the
+shouts and laughter, came to the back door and smiled in sympathy.
+
+One glorious afternoon of mingled sunlight and frost there was an
+excursion afoot out into the country in search of nuts. Polly and Mae
+and Laurie and George and Bob and Lee formed the party. They carried two
+baskets, one of which George wore on his head most of the way, to the
+wonderment of the infrequent passers. Mae knew, or thought she knew,
+where there were chestnut trees, and led the way for three miles to what
+is called Two Jug Ridge. The chestnut trees, however, were, according to
+Laurie, away for the afternoon. They found some hickory nuts, not quite
+ready to leave their husks, and a few beech-nuts, and after gathering
+those they sat on a broad, flat boulder and looked down on Orstead and
+Little Windsor and some twelve miles of the Hudson River, and talked a
+good deal of nonsense--all except Lee, who went to sleep with his cap
+pulled over his eyes, and had a cold in his head for days after. George
+decided that when he was through college and was married, he would come
+back there and build a bungalow just where they were seated.
+
+"This will do for the front door-step," he expounded, "and over there
+will be a closed-in porch with an open fireplace and a Gloucester
+hammock."
+
+"That all you're going to have?" asked Bob. "No kitchen?"
+
+"Oh, there'll be a kitchen, all right, and a dining-room--no, I guess
+we'll eat on the porch. Wouldn't it be a dandy place, though? Look at
+the view!"
+
+"Fine," said Laurie, without much enthusiasm, remembering the last
+uphill mile. "Don't mind if I don't come to see you often, though, do
+you?"
+
+"Not a bit! Nobody asked you, anyway."
+
+"You could live on nuts," murmured Polly, "and could have shaggy-barks
+for breakfast and beech-nuts for dinner and--"
+
+"Grape-nuts for supper," said Laurie, coming to the rescue.
+
+"And you could call the place the Squirrel-Cage," suggested Bob.
+
+And that reminded Mae of a story her father had told of a man who had
+lived in the woods farther down the river some years before, and who ate
+nothing but nuts and things he found in the forest. "He lived all alone
+in a little cabin he'd built, and folks said he was a deserter from the
+army, and--"
+
+"What army?" George asked.
+
+"The Northern Army, of course."
+
+"I thought you might mean the Salvation Army. Then this was quite awhile
+ago, wasn't it?"
+
+"Of course, stupid! Years and years ago. And finally, when he died,
+folks found that he wasn't a deserter at all, but a general or a major
+or something, and they found a prize that the government had given him,
+some sort of a medal for bravery in battle. Wasn't that sad?"
+
+"Well," replied Laurie, doubtfully, "I suppose it was. I suppose the
+government would have shown better judgment if they'd given him a bag of
+nuts. Of course, he couldn't eat that medal!"
+
+"You're horrid! Anyway, it just shows that you mustn't judge folks
+by--by outward appearances, doesn't it?"
+
+"Rather! I've always said that, too. Take George, for example. Just to
+look at him, you'd never think he had any sense at all; but at times--"
+
+"Lay off of George," interrupted that young gentleman, threateningly.
+"If folks judged you by the way you talk, you'd be inside a nice high
+wall!"
+
+Why the talk should have drifted from there to the subject of ghosts and
+uncanny happenings isn't apparent, but it did. In the midst of it, Lee
+gave a tremendous snore that scared both the girls horribly, and sat up
+suddenly, blinking. "Hello!" he muttered. Then he yawned and grinned
+foolishly. "Guess I must have dropped off," he said apologetically.
+
+"You didn't," said George. "If you had you'd have waked up quicker! Cut
+out the chatter; Polly's telling a spook yarn."
+
+Lee gathered up a handful of beech-nuts and was silent except for the
+sound he made in cracking the shells.
+
+"It isn't much of a story," disclaimed Polly, "but it--it _was_ funny.
+It began just after Mama and I came here. I mean, that was the first
+time. One night, after we had gone to bed, Mama called me. 'I think
+there's some one downstairs, Polly,' she whispered. We both listened,
+and, sure enough, we could hear a sort of tapping sound. It wasn't like
+footsteps, exactly; more--more hollow, as if it came from a long way
+off. But it sounded right underneath. We listened a minute or two, and
+then it stopped and didn't begin again; and presently we lighted a
+candle and went downstairs, and nobody was there and everything was
+quite all right. So we thought that perhaps what we'd heard was some one
+walking along the street.
+
+"We didn't hear it again for nearly two weeks, and then it lasted
+longer--maybe two minutes. It got louder; and stopped, and began again,
+and died away; and we sat there and listened, and I thought of ghosts
+and everything except robbers, because it didn't sound like any one in
+the store. It was more as if it was some one in the cellar."
+
+"Well, maybe it was," suggested Laurie, when Polly paused.
+
+"That's what we thought, Nod, until we went to see. Then we remembered
+that there wasn't any cellar!"
+
+"Oh!" said Laurie.
+
+"What happened then?" asked Lee, flicking a shell at George.
+
+"It kept on happening every little while for two years. We got so we
+didn't think any more about it. Mr. Farmer, the lawyer, said what we
+heard was probably a rat. But I know very well it wasn't that. It was
+too regular. It was always just the same each time. At first we could
+just hear it a little, and then it grew louder and louder, and stopped.
+And then it began again, loud, and just sort of--of trailed off till you
+couldn't hear it at all. I suppose we never would have heard it if it
+hadn't been for Mama not sleeping very well, because it always came
+after midnight, usually about half-past twelve. After a while I didn't
+hear it at all, because Mama stopped waking me up."
+
+"Spooks," declared George, with unction. "The house is haunted, Polly."
+
+"Wish I lived there," said Bob eagerly. "I'm crazy about ghosts. They
+told me that old Coven--I mean your uncle, Polly--haunted the house
+we're in; but, gee! I've been around at all times of night and never
+seen a thing! There are lots of jolly, shivery noises--stairs creaking,
+and woodwork popping, and all that, you know; but nary a ghost. Look
+here, Polly! Let me sit down in the store some night, will you? I'd love
+to!"
+
+"You've got funny ideas of fun," murmured George.
+
+"Oh, but it's gone now," said Mae. "Hasn't it, Polly? You haven't heard
+the noise for a long time, have you?"
+
+"No, not for--oh, two years, I think. At least, that's what Mama says.
+Maybe, though, she sleeps better and doesn't hear things."
+
+"I guess Mr. What's-his-name was right," said Lee. "It was probably a
+rat, or a family of rats."
+
+"Rats wouldn't make the same sound every time," scoffed Laurie.
+
+"They might. Trained rats might. Maybe they escaped from a circus."
+
+"And maybe you escaped from an asylum," responded Laurie, getting up.
+"Let's take him home before he gets violent."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII--LAURIE MAKES A PROTEST
+
+
+The football team continued to add victories, and as the fateful 20th of
+November approached enthusiasm grew until, after the Whittier game,
+which Hillman's won by a field goal in the final hectic two minutes, it
+became more a furore than enthusiasm. Ned, by that time, had settled
+down to a realization that, no matter what progress he made this fall,
+no matter how adept he became at kicking a football down the field or
+over the cross-bar, he would not make the first team; that, in short, he
+was being educated as next year material. There was no injustice in
+this, and he realized it; for, aside from his proficiency as a kicker,
+he was not in the class with the school team backs. He couldn't worm his
+way through a hole in the opposing line the way Slavin could, nor smash
+through the defense the way Mason did, nor dodge and side-step in a
+broken field like Pope. Once going, Ned was rather hard to stop, for he
+displayed some of the slippery qualities of an eel; but it took him ten
+yards to get his speed up, and the opponents had a discouraging way of
+getting through and flooring him before the tenth yard was won! But he
+had grown to love the game, and no one toiled more conscientiously.
+There were times when Laurie devoutly wished that Ned hadn't taken up
+the game, for after a half-hour of Ned's chatter Laurie found the
+subject of football a trifle dull.
+
+On the Wednesday before the Farview contest the Orstead High School team
+came over for a practice game. At least, Hillman's called it a practice
+game and considered it such; but High School had blood in her eye and
+was secretly determined to wreak all the vengeance possible. Once a
+year, for the space of some three hours, Orstead High School swore
+allegiance to Hillman's and turned out at the field and rooted valiantly
+for the Blue while she battled with Farview. But all the rest of the
+time she was frankly hostile and derisive. This Wednesday afternoon the
+hostility was apparent from the first. More than a hundred boys and a
+scattering of girls followed their team to the Hillman's field and
+demanded revenge for the early-season defeat, while the High School
+team, which had passed through a rather successful season and was not at
+all the aggregation that the Blue had beaten 10 to 7, started right out
+after it.
+
+Coach Mulford began with his first-string players, and against them High
+School was not dangerous, although there were anxious moments. The
+second period ended with the score 7--0 in Hillman's favor, only a
+fumble by Slavin on High School's eight yards saving the visitor from a
+second touch-down. When the third quarter began, Coach Mulford put in
+nearly a new eleven, only Kewpie Proudtree, Farley, Mason, and Pope
+remaining over. Perhaps the High School coach had talked new strength
+and determination into his charges during the intermission, for the
+visitors started in on the second half in whirlwind fashion. The Blue
+kicked off, and High School's quarter got the ball on his
+twenty-five-yard line and scampered back to the thirty-five before he
+was laid low by Farley, the Blue's left end. From there, with fierce
+slams at Hillman's right and two short forward passes over the center of
+the line, High School reached the opponent's thirty-two. There an
+off-side penalty set her back, and, after two attempts at rushing that
+produced but three yards, she kicked to the five-yard line. Kendrick
+fumbled the catch, but recovered and was downed on his ten. Pope punted
+on second down to mid-field, and from there High School started another
+slashing advance that took her to the thirty-four yards before she was
+halted.
+
+On the side-lines, the High School supporters were shouting and
+beseeching and banners were waving deliriously. A tow-haired full-back,
+who had all along proved the visitor's best ground-gainer, smashed
+through the Hillman's left for two yards; and then, on fourth down,
+faking a kick, he set off on a romp around the adversary's right.
+Lightner, the second-string end, was effectually boxed, and the runner,
+turning wide, was off down the field at top speed. Only Hop Kendrick
+stood between him and the goal-line, and Hop waited on the fifteen
+yards, wary and alert. The tow-haired boy's feint to the right didn't
+fool him, and when the side-stepping to the left began, Hop was on him
+with a clean dive and a hard tackle, and the two rolled to earth
+together. But the ball was on the thirteen yards now, and it was first
+down for High School, and the latter was not to be denied. A plunge off
+tackle took the pigskin in front of the goal, though there was no gain.
+Hillman's piled up an attack at right guard. On third down, High School
+called for kick formation, and the tow-haired terror dropped back.
+
+From the side of the gridiron, Hillman's rooters chanted: "Block that
+kick! Block that kick!" But there was no kick to block, for the
+full-back only backed away a pace or two when the pigskin reached him,
+and then tossed to the corner of the field and to the eager hands of an
+uncovered right end who had but to make three strides before he was over
+the line. Hop got him then; but the damage was done, and the visitors
+lining the gridiron were cheering and cavorting wildly. The kick was
+from a difficult angle, but the tow-haired player made it, and the score
+was tied.
+
+The teams changed fields a minute later. Undismayed, Coach Mulford sent
+in three new substitutes, one of them in place of Pope. Hillman's got
+the ball in mid-field on a fumble, and set off for the adversary's goal;
+but the new players were not able to make much headway, and Deering, who
+had taken Pope's place, punted. The effort landed the ball on High
+School's thirty-seven, and her quarter ran it back eight more before he
+was stopped. Three tries at the line netted seven yards, and the visitor
+punted to Hop Kendrick on his eighteen. This time Hop hugged the ball
+hard and set off along the far side of the gridiron at a smart pace.
+Fortunately for him, one High School end overran. The other challenged,
+but missed his tackle. By that time a hasty interference had formed,
+and, guarded by Mason and Lightner, Hop reached his forty before
+misfortune overtook him. There a High School tackle crashed through the
+interference and nailed him hard.
+
+But that twenty-yard sprint had brought new vim to the Blue's novices,
+and new confidence, and from their forty yards they began a fast, hard
+attack that placed High School with her back to the wall almost before
+she realized it. If the substitutes lacked the experience and brawn of
+the first-choice players, they at least had sand and speed. And they had
+a quarter-back who was earnest and grim and determined, and who, sensing
+that the opponent was weary, realized that speed, and a lot of it, was
+the one thing that could save the day. And so Hop proved his right to
+his nickname that afternoon. Hop he did, and so did his team. Signals
+were fairly shot into the air, and there was no longer any time between
+plays for High School to recover her breath. Twice, with plunges at the
+right of the visitor's line and runs outside her tackles, Hillman's made
+her distance and the pigskin rested on the thirty-six yards.
+
+So far the Blue had attempted but three forward passes, of which only
+one had succeeded. Now, from position, Hop threw straight over the
+center, and somehow Lightner was there and pulled it down, although the
+enemy was clustered around him thick. That seven-yard gain was made ten
+when Deering was poked through the center, ten a little more, for the
+ball was down on High School's twenty-four-yard line. The game that had
+been proclaimed a practice event for the purpose of seasoning the
+substitutes against Saturday's contest had developed within the last
+half-hour into a battle to the death. Outside the gridiron the opposing
+factions hurled defiant cheers at each other and rooted as they had not
+rooted all the season. On the field the rivalry was even more intense,
+and black looks and hard knocks were the order.
+
+High School, sparring for time, administered to a breathless right
+guard, and then drew into a bunch for a whispered conference, while
+Hillman's supporters hooted derisively. Deering gained three and Boessel
+two more. High School ran two substitutes on, and, after the next play,
+two more. An old-fashioned criss-cross sent Mason around his own right
+end for eight yards and planted the ball just short of the ten-yard
+line. Mason gave place to Beedle. A slide off tackle centered the
+pigskin and gained a scant yard. Deering struck center for a yard loss,
+and Lightner was caught off-side. The ball went back to the seventeen
+yards.
+
+High School was playing desperately and her line had stiffened. Beedle
+gave way to Ned after that second down, and Ned had his instructions.
+The ball was in front of High School's goal, and from the seventeen
+yards a field goal was an easy proposition if the opponents could be
+held away from the kicker. Perhaps Hop Kendrick didn't realize why Ned
+had been sent in, or perhaps he thought better of his own judgment.
+Since by the rules Ned could not communicate the instructions from the
+coach until after the following play, he could only look his surprise
+when Hop failed to call him back to kicking position. Farley, captain in
+Stevenson's absence, seemed to be on the point of protesting, and even
+took a step toward the quarter-back; but he evidently reconsidered, for
+he returned to his position at the end of the line, and the starting
+signal followed.
+
+The play was a fake attack on the right, with Boessel carrying the ball
+to the left inside of tackle, and it worked to perfection. High School,
+over-anxious, stormed to the defense of her threatened right side, and
+Boessel, with Ned hanging at his flank as far as the five-yard line,
+where the earth suddenly rose up and smote him, romped over the line for
+the last and deciding touch-down, while the Blue cohorts went fairly
+wild with delight.
+
+On the side-line, Coach Mulford turned to Joe Stevenson. "What do you
+think of Kendrick?" he asked, smiling.
+
+"I'd kiss him if I had him here," answered Joe, grinning joyously. "I
+call him one sweet little quarter, Coach!"
+
+"Well, this was his day, all right," mused the other; "I hope he will
+show up as well Saturday. Now we'll see whether Turner can kick a goal.
+He's been doing some good work in practice, but he looks scared to death
+and will probably miss it by a mile."
+
+And Ned _was_ scared, too. He tried to steady his nerves by assuring
+himself that, whether he made it or missed it, the Blue had won the
+game, and that consequently a failure made little difference. But the
+silence of his schoolmates and the "booing" of the visiting rooters
+affected him badly. To Hop, holding the ball from the turf, it seemed
+that Ned would never have done pointing it. And so it seemed to the
+onlookers. Never was a kicker more deliberate. But at last Hop heard a
+faint "Down!" and drew his fingers from beneath the oval and waited an
+anxious moment. Then there was a clean, hard _thud_, and the
+quarter-back, watching its flight, saw the pigskin rise lazily, end over
+end, and go straight and high over the bar.
+
+And he might have heard Ned's loud sigh of relief, had not the pounding
+of the charging enemy and the cries of the Hillman's horde drowned it.
+
+Another kick-off and four plays ended the contest, and High School,
+after cheering half-heartedly, went off disgruntled and silent.
+
+On his way to the field-house, Ned, trotting along with Hop, encountered
+Polly and Mae in the throng, and paused to speak. "Bully game, wasn't
+it?" he said. Then, seeing Mae's High School banner, he added: "High
+School put up a dandy fight, Mae."
+
+"Indeed she did," agreed Mae. "I thought once she was going to win,
+too."
+
+Polly was laughing. "Poor Mae didn't know which team she wanted to win,"
+she explained. "When High School gained she waved her flag, and when
+Hillman's gained she waved it just the same. She was waving it all the
+time! That was a lovely goal you made, Nid."
+
+"Thanks. I--well, I was so scared I didn't know whether to kick the ball
+or bite it! I'm mighty glad it went over, though." He nodded and hurried
+on in the wake of Hop, who, being a very earnest young gentleman and
+completely absorbed in the business of football, considered girls far
+outside his scheme of things.
+
+Three quarters of an hour later, Laurie arose from his recumbent
+position on the window-seat of Number 16 East Hall, and delivered an
+ultimatum in quiet but forceful tones. "Ned," he said, "I saw that game
+from about the middle of the first quarter to the bitter end. Nothing
+escaped my eagle gaze. I can even tell you exactly how many times that
+High School umpire consulted his rules book when he thought no one was
+looking. I know how much dirt there was in Frank Brattle's left ear when
+they dragged him out. I know--"
+
+"Well, what of it? What's your chief trouble?" growled Ned.
+
+"Knowing all this and more, much more, Neddie, I refuse to listen any
+longer to your reminiscences. You've been through the game three times
+since you landed up here, and there's a limit to my endurance. And
+you've reached that limit, Neddie--you really have. I'm going down to
+George's, where I may hear something besides touch-downs and passes and
+goals. When you recover, Neddie, come on down."
+
+"Oh, go to the dickens!" muttered Ned, as the door closed softly.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII--BEFORE THE BATTLE
+
+
+"The fellow who put these posts in," grunted Bob, as he heaved and
+tugged, "must have had more time than brains!"
+
+It was Thursday afternoon. A hard frost, which had frozen the ground a
+half-inch deep, had counseled him to finish the work of wrecking the
+arbor. But three posts remained, and at one of these Bob, after having
+dug around it, and pried at it with a bar until patience was exhausted,
+was tugging lustily. Laurie, wiping the sweat of honest toil from his
+brow, cast aside the bar and gave a hand.
+
+"Come on," he said hopefully. "One, two--three! Heave!"
+
+"Heave!" muttered Bob.
+
+But although the post, which had formed a corner of the arbor, gave from
+side to side, it refused to leave its nest. Panting, the boys drew off
+and observed it glumly.
+
+"Guess we'll have to dig some more," said Bob.
+
+"Wait a minute. Let me get a purchase on it with the bar."
+
+Laurie seized that implement again and drove it into the softened earth
+beside the post. As the first drive didn't send it far enough, he pulled
+it out, and put all his strength into the next effort. This time he
+succeeded beyond all expectations. The bar slipped through his fingers
+and disappeared from sight!
+
+"Well!" he gasped. "What do you know--"
+
+"Where-where did it go to?" cried Bob, dumfounded.
+
+"It went--it went to China, I guess! It just slipped right through my
+hands, and kept on slipping!" Laurie knelt and dug at the hole with his
+fingers.
+
+"Find it?" asked Bob. "Try the shovel."
+
+"No, I can't feel it. Hand it here." Laurie took the shovel and dug
+frantically. Then Bob dug. The result was that they enlarged and
+deepened the hole around the post, but the crowbar failed to
+materialize.
+
+"I suppose," said Laurie, finally, dropping the shovel and tilting back
+his cap, "what happened was that I struck a sort of hole, and the bar
+went right down in. Maybe it was a rat-hole, Bob."
+
+"I guess so. Anyway, it's gone, and we'll have to get a new one."
+
+"Oh, I guess we'll find it when we get the post out. Let's try the old
+thing."
+
+They did, and, after a moment of indecision, it came out most
+obligingly. But there was still no crowbar to be seen. Laurie shook his
+head, mystified. "That's the funniest thing I ever saw," he declared.
+
+"It surely is! Look here; maybe there's an old well there."
+
+"Then why didn't the post go down into it?"
+
+"Because it's covered over with stones. The bar happened to slip into
+a--a crevice."
+
+Laurie nodded dubiously. "That might be it," he agreed. "Or perhaps
+we've discovered a subterranean cavern!"
+
+"Caverns always are subterranean, aren't they?"
+
+"No; sometimes they're in the side of a hill."
+
+"Then they're caves."
+
+"A cave and a cavern are the same thing, you smart Aleck."
+
+"All right; but even if a cavern is in a hill, it's underground, and
+subterranean means under--"
+
+"Help! You win, Bob! Come on and get hold of this log and let's get it
+out of here." And, as they staggered with it across the garden to add it
+to the pile of posts and lumber already there, he continued: "There's
+one thing certain, Bob, and that's that you won't get me to play tennis
+on your court. I'd be afraid of sinking into the ground some fine day!"
+
+"Maybe you'd find the crowbar then," said Bob. "Heave!"
+
+Laurie "heaved," patted the brown loam from his hands, and surveyed the
+pile. "There's a lot of good stuff there," he pondered. "Some of it's
+sort of rotten, but there's enough to build something."
+
+"What do you want to build?"
+
+"I don't know. We could build a sort of covered seat, like the one in
+Polly's yard, where folks could rest and look on. Take about six of
+these posts and some of the strips, and some boards for the seat--"
+
+"Who'd dig the post-holes?" inquired Bob, coldly.
+
+"Oh, we could get a couple of the others to help. Honest, Bob, it would
+be a lot of fun. Maybe we couldn't do it before spring, though."
+
+"I might leave the stuff here," said Bob. "Thomas could sort of pile it
+a little neater, you know. I love to carpenter. Sometime we'll draw a
+plan of it, Nod."
+
+"Right-o! How about those other posts? No use trying to do anything with
+'em to-day, is there?"
+
+"No; we'll have to have another crowbar."
+
+Laurie looked relieved. "Well, let's go over and see whether the Widow's
+got any of those little cakes with the chocolate on top," he suggested.
+"Hard work always makes a fellow hungry."
+
+There was a rousing football meeting in the auditorium that evening,
+with speeches and music, songs and cheers; and the enthusiasm spilled
+over to the yard afterward, and threatened to become unruly until Dan
+Whipple mounted the steps of School Hall and spoke with all the
+authority of eighteen years and the senior class presidency. Whereupon
+someone suggested a cheer for the Doctor, and the joyous crowd thronged
+to the west end of the building and gave nine long "Hillman's," with a
+"Doctor Hillman" on the end. And then suddenly the lights flashed on on
+the porch, and there were the Doctor and Miss Tabitha, the former
+looking very much as if he had awakened very recently from a nap--which
+was, in fact, the case. But he was smiling as he stepped to the doorway
+and near-sightedly surveyed the throng.
+
+"This--er--testimonial would appear to demand some sort of a response,"
+he announced, as the applause that had greeted his appearance died away.
+"But I find myself singularly devoid of words, boys. Perhaps some of you
+recall the story of the visitor in Sunday-school who was unexpectedly
+called on by the superintendent to address the children. He hemmed and
+hawed and said, finally, that it gave him much pleasure to see so many
+smiling, happy faces. And he hoped they were all good little boys and
+girls and knew their lessons. And then his eloquence failed him, and
+after an unhappy interim he asked: 'And now, children, what shall I
+say?' And a little girl in the front row lisped: 'Pleathe, Mithter, thay
+"Amen" and thit down!'
+
+"Perhaps I'd better say 'Amen' and sit down, too," he went on, when the
+laughter had ceased; "but before I do I'd like to assure you that I am
+'rooting' just as hard as any of you for a victory the day after
+to-morrow. My duties will not allow me to see the team in action, as
+much as I'd like to, but I am kept well informed of its progress. I have
+my scouts at work constantly. Mr. Pennington reports to me on the work
+of the linemen; Mr. Barrett advises me each day as to the backs; Mr.
+Wells is my authority on--er--stratagem."
+
+This amused his hearers intensely, since none of the three instructors
+mentioned had ever been known to attend a game or watch a practice.
+
+"And," continued the principal, when he could, "I follow the newspaper
+reports of our enemy's progress. Of course, I don't believe all I read.
+If I did I'd be certain that only overwhelming disaster awaited us on
+Saturday. But there is one thing that troubles me. I read recently that
+the Farview center is a very large youth, weighing, if I am not
+mistaken, some one hundred and seventy pounds. While mere weight and
+brawn are not everything, I yet tremble to consider what may happen to
+the slight, atomic youth who will oppose him. Young gentlemen, I shudder
+when I dwell on that unequal meeting, that impending battle of David and
+Goliath!"
+
+When the new burst of laughter had subsided, the doctor continued more
+soberly: "I wish the team all success, a notable victory. Or, if the
+gods of battle will it otherwise, I wish it the manly grace to accept
+defeat smilingly and undismayed. I am certain of one thing, boys, which
+is that, whether fortune favors the Dark Blue or the Maroon and White,
+the contest will be hard fought and clean, and bring honor alike to the
+victor and vanquished. You have my heartiest good wishes. And"--the
+doctor took the hand of Miss Tabitha, who had been standing a few steps
+behind him--"and the heartiest good wishes of another, who, while not a
+close follower of your sports, has a warm spot in her heart for each and
+every one of you, and who is as firmly convinced as I am of the
+invincibility of the Dark Blue!"
+
+"Three cheers for Tab--for Miss Hillman!" cried a voice; and, at first a
+trifle ragged with laughter, the cheers rang forth heartily. Then came
+another cheer for the doctor and a rousing one for "Hillman's!
+_Hillman's!!_ HILLMAN'S!!!" And the little throng, laughing and
+chattering, dispersed to the dormitories.
+
+Friday saw but a light practice for the first team and a final
+appearance of the scrubs, who, cheered by the students, went through a
+few minutes of snappy signal work, and the waving sweaters and blankets
+dashed off to the field-house, their period of servitude at an end. For
+the first team there was a long blackboard drill in the gymnasium after
+supper, and Ned, who, somewhat to his surprise and very much to his
+gratification, had been retained on the squad, returned to Number 16 at
+nine o'clock in a rather bemused condition of mind. Kewpie, who
+accompanied him, tried to cheer him up.
+
+"It'll be all right to-morrow, Nid," he declared. "I know how you feel.
+Fact is, I wouldn't know one signal from another if I got it this
+minute, and as for those sequences--" Words failed him. "But when you
+get on the field to-morrow it'll all come back to you. It--it's sort of
+psychological. A trick of memory and all that. You understand!"
+
+"I don't see why he needs to worry, anyhow," observed Laurie, cruelly.
+"He won't get a show in to-morrow's game."
+
+Ned looked hopeful for a moment, then relapsed into dejection as Kewpie
+answered: "I'd like to bet you he will, Nod. I'd like to bet you that
+he'll play a full period. You just watch Farview lay for Pope! Boy,
+they're going to make hard weather for that lad! They were after him
+last year, but they couldn't get him and he played right through. But
+I'd like to bet you that to-morrow they'll have him out of it before the
+last quarter."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Laurie, in surprise. "They don't play that
+sort of a game, do they?"
+
+"What sort of a game?" responded Kewpie. "They play hard, that's the way
+they play! And every time they tackle Pope, they'll tackle him so he'll
+know it. And every time he hits the line, there'll be one of those
+red-legs waiting for him. Oh, they don't play dirty, if you mean that;
+but they don't let any chances slip, believe me!"
+
+"It sounds sort of off color to me, though," Laurie objected. "How are
+you going to put a fellow out of the game if you don't slug or do
+something like that?"
+
+Kewpie smiled knowingly. "My son," he said, "if I start after you and
+run you around the dormitory about twenty times--"
+
+Ned, in spite of his down-heartedness, snickered at the picture evolved,
+and Kewpie grinned.
+
+"Well, suppose some one else did, then. Anyhow, after he'd done it about
+a couple of dozen times, you'd be all in, wouldn't you? He wouldn't have
+to kick you or knock you down or anything, would he? Well, that's what I
+mean. That's the way they'll go after Pope. They'll tire him out. You
+understand. And every time they tackle him, they'll tackle him good and
+hard. Well, suppose Pope does go out, and there's a chance for a field
+goal, as there's likely to be. Who will Pinky put in? Why, Nid, of
+course! Who else is there? Brattle can't kick one goal in six. No more
+can Deering. What do you think Mulford's been nursing Nid all the season
+for?"
+
+"Next year?" said Laurie, questioningly.
+
+"Sure--and this year, too. You watch and see. I'd like to bet you that
+Nid'll have a goal to kick to-morrow--yes, and that he'll kick it, too!"
+
+"Don't!" groaned Ned. "I never could do it!"
+
+"Well," laughed Laurie, "I don't bet for money, Kewpie, but I tell you
+what I'll do. If Ned kicks a goal to-morrow, I'll take you over to the
+Widow's, and I'll buy you all the cream-puffs you can eat at one
+sitting!"
+
+"It's a go!" cried Kewpie. "And if he doesn't, I'll do it to you!"
+
+"Of course," explained Laurie, in recognition of his brother's look of
+pained inquiry, "I'm not making the offer because I think Ned can't do
+it, or because I don't want him to play. You bet I do! It's because I do
+want him to, Kewpie. You see, I usually lose bets!"
+
+"All right, you crazy galoot. I've got to beat it. Pinky made us swear
+by the Great Horn Spoon to be in bed by ten. Good night. Don't let the
+signal stuff worry you, Nid. It'll come out all right to-morrow. You
+understand. Night!"
+
+When the door had closed, Laurie laughed and turned to Ned. "He's a good
+old scout, isn't he? I say, what's the matter with you, Ned? You look
+like the end of a hard winter! Cheer up! It may not be true!"
+
+But Ned shook his head, although he tried to smile unconcernedly. "It'll
+happen just the way he told, Laurie," he said, sadly. "I just know it
+will! They'll get Pope out of the way, and there'll be a field goal
+wanted, just as there was Wednesday, and Mulford will send me in!"
+
+"Well, what of it? You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
+
+"I--I'm scared!"
+
+"Oh, piffle, Neddie! You've got nerves, that's all. The night before the
+battle, you know, and all that! In the morning you'll be as right as
+rain. Get your clothes off and tumble in. Want me to read a story to
+you? There's a corker in the 'Post' this week."
+
+"No, thanks; I guess not. I'd better go to sleep."
+
+But, although Ned, stifling a desire to sit up and read the corking
+story himself, put the light out at ten minutes before ten, he lay awake
+until after midnight and suffered as blue a case of funk as any boy ever
+did. And when, at length, sleep came, it was filled with visions in
+which he stood in the center of a vast arena, the object of countless
+eyes, and tried over and over, and never with success, to kick a
+perfectly gigantic leather ball over a cross-bar that was higher than
+the Masonic Temple at home!
+
+The truth is that Ned was over-trained and stale. And the further truth
+is that when he awoke to as sweet a November morning as ever peered down
+from a cloudless sky through golden sunlight, he felt, as he phrased it
+to himself, like a sock that had just come through the wringer!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX--NED IS MISSING
+
+
+Ned ate almost no breakfast, and Laurie noted the fact, but, after a
+glance at his brother's face, said nothing. After all, he reflected,
+there were probably others of the squad who were displaying no more
+appetite this morning. Afterward, on the way to School Hall for their
+only recitation of the day, he asked off-handedly: "How are you feeling,
+Neddie?"
+
+Ned didn't answer at once. When he did, he only replied laconically:
+"Rotten!"
+
+"How do you mean, rotten?" Laurie disguised anxiety under flippancy.
+"Tummy out of whack? Or is it a case of ingrowing signals?"
+
+"I don't know what the trouble is," answered Ned seriously. "I feel
+perfectly punk. And I--I'm scared, Laurie. I'd give a million dollars if
+I didn't have to go to the field this afternoon. I wish to goodness I
+could duck somehow. Say, feel my forehead. Isn't it hot?"
+
+Laurie felt, and shook his head. "Cool as a cucumber, you old fakir.
+Buck up, Neddie! You'll feel better after a while. Did you sleep all
+right?"
+
+"I guess so," replied the other dispiritedly. "I dreamed a lot. Dreamed
+I was kicking goals over a bar as high as a mountain. And the ball was
+as big as a hogshead. And there were about a million folks watching me,
+and Mr. Cornish was beating a bass-drum."
+
+Laurie laughed. "Some dream, Neddie! Tell you what. After we get out of
+here, we'll take a nice, long hike. Mulford wants the players to stay
+outdoors, doesn't he? Didn't you tell me he said you were to walk or
+something?"
+
+Ned nodded. "I'm too tired to walk, though, Laurie. Guess I'll get a
+book and go over to the park. Or go down and jump in the river!"
+
+"Fine idea!" scoffed Laurie. "What have you got against the river? It
+never did anything to you, did it?"
+
+Ned, however, refused to smile. "You don't need to come along," he said.
+"I--I guess I'd rather be alone, Laurie."
+
+"You will be, if you're going to jump in the river, partner! The water's
+a heap too cold to appeal to me. Well, cheer up. See you when we come
+out."
+
+There was a holiday feeling in the air this morning that didn't promise
+well for recitations, and Mr. Brock's chemistry class was a sore trial
+to that gentleman. Yet, although he frowned often and sighed many
+despairing sighs, he made allowance for the prevailing mood of
+restlessness and exhibited unusual patience. And finally it was over and
+the class trooped out.
+
+"You stay here," said Laurie, "and I'll run over and get a couple of
+books from the room. What do you want?"
+
+"I don't care--anything," answered Ned, listlessly.
+
+When Laurie went off, Ned seated himself on a step and gazed forlornly
+around him. Groups of boys stood on the walks in animated conversation.
+Near at hand, a half-dozen juniors were discussing the game avidly,
+drawing comforting conclusions from a comparison of the season's
+performances of Hillman's and Farview. Suddenly the prospect of sitting
+on a park bench with Laurie became utterly distasteful to Ned, and, with
+a hurried glance in the direction of East Hall, he arose and made his
+way along the drive and into Summit Street. There he turned to the left
+and walked quickly to the corner. At Washington Street another look
+behind showed that he had made his escape, and he heaved a sigh of
+relief and went on past the library and into Cumber Street, heading
+unconsciously toward the open country eastward of town.
+
+When Laurie returned to School Hall with a book for Ned and a magazine
+for himself, he sat down and waited a few minutes, supposing that Ned
+would be back. When he didn't come, Laurie went over to School Park,
+thinking that he had perhaps grown tired of waiting in the yard. But no
+Ned was to be seen, and, puzzled but untroubled, Laurie dawdled into
+Pine Street. The white-and-red sign above the Widow Deane's little store
+shone bravely in the sunlight. For an hour Laurie enjoyed the society of
+Polly and Antoinette in the sunny garden, where, against the board
+fence, a clump of hardy chrysanthemums made a cheery showing of yellow
+and lavender. Antoinette had retired to winter quarters, which means
+that a gunny-sack and a length of old red carpet had been draped over
+her box. But just now the drapery was lifted, and Antoinette was doing
+great things to a very large cabbage-leaf. Towser had established
+himself in the sunshine atop the porch roof and gazed down benignly at
+the pair below.
+
+Laurie and Polly talked, of course, about the game. He and George were
+again to act as escorts to the two girls, a fact that had eaten a large
+hole in Laurie's remaining allowance. About ten o'clock he took himself
+away, reminding Polly to be ready at half-past one, since it took a good
+ten minutes to walk to the field, and because, wisely, he realized that
+to Polly "half-past one" would mean a quarter or two. Climbing the fence
+into Bob's yard, he discovered that young man with a new crowbar about
+to begin an attack on the remaining posts of the arbor. So he removed
+his sweater, moistened his hands in the time-honored and only
+efficacious manner, and joined the assault. After the posts were added
+to the pile beside the fence, the two boys went indoors and refreshed
+the inner man with piping-hot ginger cookies. Thus it was that it was
+nearly noon when Laurie got back to Number 16, to find, to his
+uneasiness, that Ned was not there. Nor, as far as any evidences showed,
+had he been there since before breakfast.
+
+Laurie threw himself on the window-seat and tried to apply himself to
+the magazine that he had carried all morning. But he began to be really
+worried about Ned. He didn't understand where he could be. Even if he
+had gone off by himself, mooning along the roads, which was what Laurie
+suspected he had done, he should have been home before this, for, as
+Laurie knew, the players were to go to lunch at twelve. Presently he
+dropped the magazine and strode across the corridor to Number 15. Kewpie
+was not in, but Hop was there--a more than ordinarily serious-faced Hop,
+who replied to Laurie's inquiry in an absent-minded manner suggesting
+that some one had placed him in a trance and gone away without awakening
+him. Hop hadn't seen Nid all morning. Kewpie had just gone over to West
+Hall. He hoped there wouldn't be any wind this afternoon. Farview had a
+punter that could do fifty yards easily, and a wind would lengthen his
+kicks frightfully. Did Nod think those clouds meant wind?
+
+Laurie withdrew without venturing an opinion in the matter. Football, he
+reflected, was a far more dangerous pastime than folks generally
+realized, when it could affect a fellow's brains like that! Downstairs,
+he searched the little group about the dining-hall door, and finally
+made inquiry of Dave Murray. Dave was worried and excited and a bit
+short-tempered.
+
+"Nid Turner? No, I haven't seen him. He'll be here pretty quick, though.
+We eat at twelve."
+
+He left Laurie, to push his way toward the entrance to accost Mr.
+Mulford, who was coming in; and Laurie went out and sat down on the step
+and watched. Kewpie came striding across from West Hall, smiling and
+evidently very fit. But when Laurie questioned him the smile faded.
+
+"Nid? No, I haven't set eyes on him. Isn't he here? Are you sure? Say,
+you don't suppose the silly guy has bolted? He was in mean shape last
+night, Nod. But he wouldn't do that! He's no quitter. He'll be here in a
+minute or two."
+
+"Suppose--suppose he isn't?" asked Laurie, anxiously. "Would it matter
+much?"
+
+"Matter?" Kewpie shrugged, one eye on the dining-hall door, through
+which his team-mates were beginning to pass. "It wouldn't matter to the
+game, I guess. I was only trying to cheer him up last night. You
+understand. It isn't likely Pinky will use him. But it would be a bad
+thing for him, Nod. It would be an awful black eye, in fact, if he cut
+the game. Guess Pinky would just about can him for all time! I say, I've
+got to hustle in there. Why don't you have a look around for him? Maybe
+he's in the library, or over in West, or--or somewhere. See you later,
+Nod!"
+
+Kewpie disappeared into the dining-hall, and a moment later the door was
+closed. Laurie acted on Kewpie's suggestion, and made a thorough search
+of School Hall and the other dormitory, and even poked his head into the
+gymnasium, where only an empty floor met his gaze. After that there
+seemed nothing to do but wait. Ned had already missed his lunch, for the
+fellows were coming out into the corridor when Laurie returned to East
+Hall. Murray nailed him as he tried to pass unnoticed to the stairs.
+
+"Say, Nod, where's that brother of yours?" he demanded indignantly.
+"Didn't he know that lunch was at twelve? Where is he, anyway?"
+
+"I don't know, Dave," Laurie answered, miserably. "He went for a walk
+this morning, and I haven't seen him since. I guess he went too far and
+couldn't get back in time. I've been looking all over for him."
+
+"That's fine!" said the manager, bitterly. "Mulford asked for him, and I
+said I'd look him up. You'd better find him mighty quick, Nod. Tell him
+to get something to eat somewhere and be at the gym not later than one.
+There's a floor drill then. I'll make it all right with Mulford,
+somehow. But there'll be the dickens and all to pay if he doesn't show
+up!"
+
+Hoping against hope, Laurie hurried up to the room. But there was no
+Ned. One o'clock came and passed. Time and again Laurie went to the gate
+and looked up and down the street, but without result. Ned had
+disappeared utterly, it seemed, and the unwelcome conclusion grew in
+Laurie's mind that Ned had shown the white feather and had deliberately
+absented himself. Laurie didn't like to think that, and there were
+moments when he couldn't. But here it was nearly half-past one, and Ned
+hadn't come, and facts are facts! It looked, he thought sadly, like a
+bad day for the honor of the Turners!
+
+At half-past one he found George Watson in his room, and handed over one
+of his tickets. "I can't go to the field with you," he said, "but I'll
+find you over there. Try to keep a seat for me, will you?"
+
+"What's the big idea?" asked George, blankly. "Why can't you go with us?
+That's a fine game to play!"
+
+"I'll tell you later. I--I've got something to do. Be a good fellow,
+George, won't you? And tell Polly how it is, will you?"
+
+"How the dickens can I tell Polly how it is when I don't know how it is
+myself?" asked George, indignantly. "Oh, all right! But you want to get
+there pretty quick, Nod. It's hard to hold seats when there aren't
+enough of them in the first place. There's a regular mob going out there
+already!"
+
+Disconsolately Laurie hurried out and stationed himself at the dormitory
+entrance. Presently the players emerged from the gymnasium in their togs
+and passed through the little gate to Washington Street. Laurie watched
+them file past, hoping hard that Ned would be among them. But, although
+all the rest were there, twenty-one in all, there was no Ned.
+
+From Washington Street and Summit Street came a steady tramping of feet,
+accompanied by a swishing sound as the pedestrians brushed through the
+fallen leaves. Occasionally an automobile went by with a warning honk of
+its horn at the corner. Looking over the withered hedge, Laurie could
+see the colors of Hillman's and Farview marching past, banners of dark
+blue bearing the white Old English H, maroon-and-white flags adorned
+with the letters "F. A." Laughter and the merry, excited chatter of many
+voices came to him. The yard was empty, except for a boy hurrying down
+the steps of West Hall, and he too quickly disappeared through the gate.
+
+Presently Laurie looked at his watch. The time was eighteen minutes to
+two. He left East Hall and turned toward the gymnasium. Out of the
+shelter of the dormitory a little breeze fanned his face, and he
+remembered Hop Kendrick's dread of a wind that would put more power into
+the toe of the Farview punter. It might be, he reflected, that Hop was
+due for disappointment; but the matter didn't seem very important to
+him. The locker-room in the gymnasium was empty. Over the benches lay
+the discarded underclothing of the players, and sometimes the outer
+clothing as well, suggesting that excitement on this occasion had
+prevailed over orderliness. Laurie made his way to Ned's locker. It was
+closed, and behind the unfastened door hung his togs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX--FOR THE HONOR OF THE TURNERS
+
+
+Walking felt good to Ned that morning. The air, brisk in spite of the
+sunshine and the day's stillness, cleared his head of the queer
+cloudiness that had been there since awakening, and, turning into the
+country road that led eastward toward the higher hills, he strode along
+briskly. He had, he reflected, played rather a low-down trick on Laurie;
+but that could be explained later, and Laurie wouldn't mind when he
+understood. When he had gone the better part of a mile into the country,
+and the road had begun to steepen perceptibly, the sound of a motor
+behind warned him to one side. But, instead of passing in a cloud of
+dust, the automobile slowed down as it reached the pedestrian, and the
+driver, a genial-looking man of middle age, hailed.
+
+"Going my way?" he asked. "Get in if you like."
+
+Ned hesitated, and then climbed in beside the solitary occupant of the
+car. The prospect of speeding through the sunlit morning world appealed
+to him, and he thanked the driver and snuggled into the other corner of
+the front seat.
+
+"That's all right, my boy," answered the man, genially. "Glad to have
+company. How far are you going?"
+
+"Just--just up the road a ways," replied Ned, vaguely. "I was out for a
+walk, only this seemed better."
+
+"Well, it's quicker, though it doesn't give you quite so much exercise,"
+was the response. "You sing out when you've had enough. Maybe you can
+get a lift going back, if you're not in too much of a hurry. Still,
+there isn't much travel on this road. Most folks go around by Little
+Windsor. It's longer, but the road's a sight better. I go this way
+because I can do it quicker. There are some fierce bumps, though. Yell
+if you drop out!"
+
+The car was a heavy one with good springs, and as long as Ned remained
+in it the bad bumps didn't materialize. His companion evidently liked to
+talk, and Ned learned a good deal about him and his business, without,
+however, finding it very interesting. The man asked few questions, and
+so Ned merely supplied the information that he was from Hillman's School
+and that he liked to walk and that he had all the morning to get back
+in. The car kept up an even, effortless speed of twenty-seven or -eight
+miles an hour, and it was finding himself booming up the straight grade
+over Candle Mountain that brought Ned to a sudden realization that if he
+meant to get back to school by twelve o'clock without undue effort he
+had best part company with his chatty acquaintance. So, at the summit of
+the hill, he said good-by, repeated his thanks, and got out.
+
+"Guess you're about six miles from Orstead," said the man. "It won't
+take you long to get back there, though, if you find a lift. Don't
+hesitate to stop any one you see; they'll be glad to take you in.
+Good-by!"
+
+The gray automobile went on and was speedily dropping from sight beyond
+the nearly leafless forest. Ned watched it disappear, and then set his
+face toward home. The ride had certainly done him good, he told himself.
+The prospect of being called on to kick a dozen goals wouldn't have
+dismayed him a mite at that moment. In fact, he suddenly realized that
+he was going to be horribly disappointed if the chance to attempt at
+least one goal from the field did not come to him, and he wondered why
+he had felt so craven last night.
+
+After a mile or so a small, dust-covered car overhauled him and went by
+without a challenge from him. It was still only ten o'clock, and he had
+two hours yet, and he had no intention of begging a ride. Taken
+leisurely, the remaining miles would be covered without weariness and in
+plenty of time. When he had accomplished, as he reckoned, about half the
+distance to Orstead, his watch said seventeen minutes to eleven. The
+forenoon had grown appreciably warmer, and so had Ned. Beside the road
+was a little knoll carpeted with ashy-brown beech-leaves. Only a stone
+wall, bordered with blackberry briars, intervened.
+
+Ned climbed across the wall and seated himself on the slope of the
+knoll. The land descended gently before him toward the river and the
+town, but neither was in sight. Presently, removing his cap, he
+stretched himself on his back and linked his fingers under his head. And
+presently, because the blue, sunlit, almost cloudless sky was too
+dazzling to gaze at long, he closed his eyes. And as he did so a
+strange, delicious languor descended upon him. He sighed luxuriously and
+stretched his legs into a more comfortable position. It was odd that he
+should feel sleepy at this time of day, he thought, and it wouldn't do
+to stay here too long. He wished, though, that he didn't have to get
+anywhere at any especial time. It would be great to just lie here like
+this and feel the sun on his face and--
+
+At about that moment he stopped thinking at all and went sound asleep.
+
+When he awoke he was in shadow, for the sun had traveled around and past
+the elbow of a near-by old and knotted oak whose brown-pink leaves still
+clung to the twisted branches. Ned looked around him in puzzlement, and
+it was a long moment before he could account for his surroundings. When
+he had, he sat up very quickly and gave a startled look at his watch.
+The thing was crazy! It said twenty-one minutes past two! Of course it
+couldn't be that late, he told himself indignantly. But even as he said
+it he was oppressed by a conviction that it was. And a look at the sun
+removed any lingering doubt!
+
+He sprang to his feet, seized his cap, and stumbled across the wall,
+and, again on the road, set out at a run toward home. But after a moment
+he slowed up. "Was there any use in hurrying now? The game was already
+in progress--had been going on for twenty minutes. The first quarter was
+probably nearly over. What would they say to him, the fellows and Coach
+Mulford and--Laurie? Somehow, what Laurie would think appeared far more
+important than what any of the others might. He would have such a poor
+excuse, he reflected ruefully! Went for a walk, and fell asleep by the
+road! Gee, he couldn't tell them that! He might tell Laurie; but the
+others--"
+
+He was jogging on as he thought things over. Even if he ran all the way,
+and he couldn't do that, of course, he wouldn't get to school before
+three. And then he would have to change into his togs and reach the
+field. And by that time the second half would have started. Wouldn't it
+be far better to remain away altogether? He might easily reach his room
+unseen, and then, when Laurie returned, he could pretend illness. He
+might not fool Laurie; but the others, Coach Mulford and Dave Murray and
+the fellows, would have to believe him.
+
+If a fellow was ill, he couldn't be expected to play football. He even
+got as far as wondering what particular and peculiar malady he could
+assume, when he put the idea aside.
+
+"No use lying about it," he muttered. "Got to face the music, Ned! It
+was your own fault. Maybe Mulford will let me down easy. I wouldn't like
+to queer myself for next year. Gee, though, what'll the school think?"
+And Ned groaned aloud.
+
+While he had slept, five vehicles had passed him, and as many persons
+had seen him lying there asleep in the sun and idly conjectured about
+him. But now, when he needed help to conquer the interminable three
+miles that stretched between him and the town, and although he
+constantly turned his head to gaze hopefully back along the dusty road,
+not a conveyance appeared. Before long, since he had unwisely started at
+too great a speed, he was forced to sit down on a rock and rest. He was
+very nearly out of breath and the perspiration was trickling down
+beneath his cloth cap. A light breeze had sprung up since he had dropped
+asleep, and it felt very grateful as it caressed his damp hair and
+flushed face.
+
+Perhaps those three miles were nearer four, because when, tired, dusty,
+and heart-sick, he descried the tower of the Congregational church above
+the leafless elms and maples of the village, the gilded hands pointed to
+twelve minutes past three. Even had he arrived in time, he reflected
+miserably, he would never have been able to serve his team-mates and his
+school, for he was scarcely able to drag one foot behind the other as he
+finally turned into the yard.
+
+The place appeared deserted, grounds and buildings alike, as Ned
+unhesitatingly made his way across to the gymnasium. He had long since
+decided on his course of action. No matter whether he had failed his
+coach and his schoolmates, his duty was still plain. As late as it was,
+he would get into his togs and report at the field. But when, in the
+empty locker-room, he paused before where his football togs should have
+been, he found only empty hooks. The locker, save for towels, was empty!
+
+At first he accepted the fact as conclusive evidence of his
+disgrace--thought that coach or manager or an infuriated student body
+had removed his clothes as a signal of degradation! Then the
+unlikelihood of the conclusion came, and he wondered whether they had
+really been there. But of course they had! He remembered perfectly
+hanging them up, as usual, yesterday afternoon. Perhaps some one had
+borrowed them, then. The locker had been unfastened, probably, for half
+the time he forgot to turn the key in it. Wondering, he made his way out
+of the building, undecided now what to do. But as he reached the corner
+a burst of cheers floated to him from the play-field. His head came up.
+It was still his duty to report, togs or no togs! Resolutely he set out
+on Summit Street, the sounds of battle momentarily growing nearer as he
+limped along.
+
+By the entrances many automobiles and some carriages lined the road.
+Above the stand the backs of the spectators in the top row of seats
+looked strangely agitated, and blue flags waved and snapped. A fainter
+cheer came to him, the slogan of Farview, from the farther side of the
+field. He heard the piping of signals, and a dull thud of leather
+against leather, then cries and a whistle shrilling; and then a great
+and triumphant burst of cheering from the Blue side.
+
+He hurried his steps, leaped the low fence beside the road, and came to
+a group of spectators standing at the nearer end of the long, low grand
+stand. He could see the gridiron now, and the battling teams in
+mid-field. And the scoreboard at the farther end! And, seeing that, his
+heart sank. "Hillman's 7--Visitors 9" was the story! He tugged the
+sleeve of a man beside him, a youngish man in a chauffeur's livery.
+
+"What period is it?" he asked.
+
+"Fourth," was the answer. The man turned a good-natured look on the
+boy's anxious face.
+
+"Been going about four minutes. You just get here?"
+
+Ned nodded. "How did they get their nine?" he asked.
+
+"Farview? Worked a forward pass in the second quarter for about thirty
+yards, and smashed over for a touch-down. They failed at goal, though.
+That made 'em six, and they got three more in the last quarter.
+Hillman's fumbled about on their thirty, and that bandy-legged full-back
+of Farview's kicked a corking goal from field. Gee--say, it was some
+kick!"
+
+"Placement or drop?"
+
+"Drop. Almost forty yards, I guess. There they go again!" The chauffeur
+tiptoed to see over a neighbor's head. Ned, past his shoulder, had an
+uncertain glimpse of the Maroon and White breaking through the Blue's
+left side. When the down was signaled, he spoke again.
+
+"How did Hillman's score?" he asked.
+
+"Huh? Oh, she got started right off at the beginning of the game and
+just ate those red-legs up. Rushed the ball from the middle of the
+field, five and six yards at a whack, and landed it on the other
+fellow's door-sill. Farview sort of pulled together then and made a
+fight; but that big chap, Pope, the full-back, smashed through finally,
+right square between the posts. After that he kicked the goal. Guess the
+red-legs had stage-fright then, but they got over it, and our fellows
+haven't had a chance to score since. Pope had to lay off last quarter.
+They played him to a standstill. Mason's mighty good, but he can't make
+the gains Pope did. First down again! Say, they aren't doing a thing but
+eating us up!"
+
+Ned wormed himself to the front of the group, and came to anchor at the
+side of a tall policeman, close to the rope that stretched from the end
+of the stand well past the zone line. By craning his neck he could look
+down the length of the field. White-sweatered, armed with big blue
+megaphones, Brewster and Whipple and two others, cheer leaders, were
+working mightily, although the resulting cheers sounded weak where Ned
+stood. The teams were coming down the field slowly but surely, the Blue
+contesting every yard, but yielding after every play. The lines faced
+each other close to the thirty now. Across the gridiron, Farview's paeans
+were joyful and confident, and the maroon-and-white flags gyrated in
+air. Well back toward his threatened goal, Hop Kendrick, white-faced and
+anxious, called hoarse encouragement. Ned clenched his hands and hoped
+and feared.
+
+A line attack turned into an unexpected forward pass, and a tall Farview
+end came streaking down just inside the boundary. Hop was after him like
+a shot; but Deering, who had taken Pope's place, ran him out at the
+fifteen-yard line. The Maroon and White went wild with joy. The teams
+trooped in on the heels of the diminutive referee, and the ball was down
+just inside Hillman's fifteen. Ned looked the Blue team over. Save for
+Corson and White, the line was made up of first-string men, but the back
+field was, with the single exception of Mason, all substitutes:
+Kendrick, Boessel, and Deering.
+
+A plunge straight at the center gave Farview two more precious yards,
+Kewpie, apparently pretty well played out, yielding before the desperate
+attack. Three more yards were gained between Emerson and Stevenson on
+the left. Third down now, and five to go! Evidently Farview was
+determined on a touch-down, for on the nine yards, with an excellent
+chance for a field goal, she elected to rush again. But this time the
+Blue's center held, and the Farview left half, when friend and foe was
+pulled from above him, held the pigskin scarcely a foot in advance of
+its former position. It was Hillman's turn to cheer, and cheer she did.
+Ned added a wild shout of triumph to the din about him.
+
+Fourth down, and still five yards to gain! Now Farview must either kick
+or try a forward, and realizing this the Blue's secondary defense
+dropped back and out. A Farview substitute came speeding on, a new left
+tackle. Then, amid a sudden hush, the quarter sang his signals: "Kick
+formation! 73--61--29--" The big full-back stretched his arms out.
+"12--17--9!" Back sped the ball, straight and breast-high. The Blue line
+plunged gallantly. The stand became a pandemonium. The full-back swung a
+long right leg, but the ball didn't drop from his hands. Two steps to
+the left, and he was poising it for a forward pass! Then he threw, well
+over the up-stretched hands of a Hillman's player who had broken
+through, and to the left. A Maroon and White end awaited the ball, for
+the instant all alone on the Blue's goal-line. Ned, seeing, groaned
+dismally. Then from somewhere a pair of blue-clad arms flashed into
+sight, a slim body leaped high, and from the Hillman's side of the field
+came a veritable thunder of relief and exultation. For the blue arms had
+the ball, and the blue player was dodging and worming toward the farther
+side-line! Captain Stevenson it was who cleared the path for him at the
+last moment, bowling over a Farview player whose arms were already
+stretched to grapple, and, in a shorter time than the telling takes, Hop
+Kendrick was racing toward the distant goal!
+
+Afterward Ned realized that during the ensuing ten or twelve seconds he
+had tried desperately to shin up the tall policeman; but at the time he
+had not known it, nor, or so it appeared, had the policeman, for the
+latter was shouting his lungs out! Past the middle of the field sped
+Hop, running as fleetly as a hare, and behind him pounded a solitary
+Farview end. These two left the rest of the field farther and farther
+back at every stride. For a moment it seemed that Hop would win that
+desperate race; but at last, near the thirty-five yards, he faltered,
+and the gap between him and his pursuer closed to a matter of three or
+four strides, and after that it was only a question of how close to the
+goal the Blue runner would get before he was overtaken and dragged down.
+The end came between the fifteen- and twenty-yard streaks. Then, no more
+than a stride behind, the Farview player sprang. His arms wrapped
+themselves around Hop's knees, and the runner crashed to earth.
+
+For a long minute the babel of shouting continued, for that eighty-yard
+sprint had changed the complexion of the game in a handful of seconds.
+Hillman's was no longer the besieged, fighting in her last trench to
+stave off defeat, but stood now on the threshold of victory, herself the
+besieger!
+
+Farview called for time. Two substitutes came in to strengthen her line.
+Hop, evidently no worse for his effort, was on his feet again, thumping
+his players on the backs, imploring, entreating, and confident. On the
+seventeen yards lay the brown oval, almost in front of the right-hand
+goal-post. A field goal would put the home team one point to the good,
+and, with only a few minutes left to play, win the game almost beyond a
+doubt, and none on the Blue's side of the field doubted that a try at
+goal would follow. Even when the first play came from ordinary formation
+and Deering smashed into the left of Farview's line for a scant yard,
+the audience was not fooled. Of course, it was wise to gain what ground
+they might with three downs to waste, for there was always the chance
+that a runner might get free and that luck would bring a touch-down
+instead.
+
+Yet again Hop signaled a line attack. This time it was Mason who carried
+the ball, and he squirmed through for two yards outside left tackle,
+edging the pigskin nearer the center of the goal. Then came a shout that
+started near the Blue team's bench and traveled right along the stand. A
+slight youngster was pulling off his sweater in front of the bench, a
+boy with red-brown hair and a pale, set face. Then he had covered the
+red-brown hair with a leather helmet and was trotting into the field
+with upraised hand.
+
+Ned stared and stared. Then he closed his eyes for an instant, opened
+them, and stared again. After that he pinched himself hard to make
+certain that he was awake and not still dreaming on the knoll beside the
+road. The substitute was speaking to the referee now, and Deering was
+walking away from the group in the direction of the bench. The cheering
+began, the leaders waving their arms in unison along the length of the
+Hillman's stand:
+
+"'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Deering!"
+
+And then again, a second later: "'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah!
+'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Turner!"
+
+Ned turned imploringly to the tall policeman. "What--who was that last
+fellow they cheered?" he faltered.
+
+The policeman looked down impatiently.
+
+"Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI--THE UNDERSTUDY
+
+
+"_Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!_" chanted Farview
+imploringly, from across the trampled field.
+
+Yet above the hoarse entreaty came Hop Kendrick's confident voice: "All
+right, Hillman's! Make it go! Here's where we win it! Kick formation!
+Turner back!" And then: "25--78--26--194! 12--31--9--"
+
+But it was Hop himself who dashed straight forward and squirmed ahead
+over one white line before the whistle blew.
+
+"Fourth down!" called the referee. "About four and a half!"
+
+"Come on!" cried Hop. "Make it go this time! Hard, fellows, hard! We've
+got 'em going!" He threw an arm over the shoulder of the new substitute.
+Those near by saw the latter shake his head, saw Hop draw back and stare
+as if aghast at the insubordination. Farview protested to the referee
+against the delay, and the latter called warningly. Hop nodded, and
+raised his voice again:
+
+"Kick formation! Turner back!"
+
+Then he walked back to where the substitute stood and dropped to his
+knees.
+
+"Place-kick!" grunted a man at Ned's elbow. "Can't miss it from there if
+the line holds!"
+
+Ned, in a perfect agony of suspense, waited. Hop was calling his
+signals. There was a pause. Then: "16--32--7--"
+
+Back came the ball on a long pass from Kewpie. It was high, but Hop got
+it, pulled it down, and pointed it. Ned saw the kicker step forward.
+Then he closed his eyes.
+
+There was a wild outburst from all around him, and he opened them again.
+The ball was not in sight, but a frantic little man in a gray sweater
+was waving his arms like a semaphore behind the farther goal. Along the
+space between stand and side-line a quartette of youths leaped crazily,
+flourishing great blue megaphones or throwing them in air. Above the
+stand blue banners waved and caps tossed about. On the scoreboard at the
+far end of the field the legend read: "Hillman's 10--Visitors 9."
+
+A moment later, a boy with a wide grin on his tired face and nerves that
+were still jangling made his way along Summit Street in the direction of
+school. Behind him the cheers and shouts still broke forth at intervals,
+for there yet remained some three minutes of playing time. Once, in the
+sudden stillness between cheers, he heard plainly the hollow thump of a
+punted ball. More shouts then, indeterminate, dying away suddenly. The
+boy walked quickly, for he had a reason for wanting to gain the security
+of his room before the crowd flowed back from the field. At last, at the
+school gate, he paused and looked back and listened. From the distant
+scene of battle came a faint surge of sound that rose and fell and rose
+again and went on unceasingly as long as he could hear.
+
+Back in Number 16, Ned threw his cap aside and dropped into the nearest
+chair. There was much that he understood, yet much more that was still a
+mystery to him. One thing, however, he dared hope, and that was that the
+disgrace of having failed his fellows had passed him miraculously by! As
+to the rest, he pondered and speculated vainly. He felt horribly limp
+and weary while he waited for Laurie to come. And after a while he heard
+cheering, and arose and went to a window. There could no longer be any
+doubt as to the final outcome of the game. Between the sidewalk throngs,
+dancing from side to side of the street with linked arms, came
+Hillman's, triumphant!
+
+[Illustration: "Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em."]
+
+And here and there, borne on the shoulders of joyous comrades, bobbed a
+captured player. There were more than a dozen of them, some taking the
+proceeding philosophically, others squirming and fighting for freedom.
+Now and then one succeeded in getting free, but recapture was invariably
+his fate. At least, this was true with a single exception while Ned
+watched. The exception was a boy with red-brown hair, who, having
+managed to slip from his enthusiastic friends, dashed through the throng
+on the sidewalk, leaped a fence, cut across a corner, and presently sped
+through the gate on Washington Street, pursuit defeated. A minute later,
+flushed and breathless, he flung open the door of Number 16.
+
+At sight of Ned, Laurie's expression of joyous satisfaction faded. He
+halted inside the door and closed it slowly behind him. At last,
+"Hello," he said, listlessly.
+
+"Hello," answered Ned. Then there was a long silence. Outside, in front
+of the gymnasium, they were cheering the victorious team, player by
+player. At last, "We won, didn't we?" asked Ned.
+
+Laurie nodded as if the thing were a matter of total indifference. He
+still wore football togs, and he frowningly viewed a great hole in one
+blue stocking as he seated himself on his bed.
+
+"Well," he said, finally, "what happened to you?"
+
+Ned told him, at first haltingly, and then with more assurance as he saw
+the look of relief creep into Laurie's face. As he ended his story,
+Laurie's countenance expressed only a great and joyous amusement.
+
+"Neddie," he chuckled, "you'll be the death of me yet! You came pretty
+near to it to-day, too, partner!" He sobered as his thoughts went back
+to a moment some fifteen minutes before, and he shook his head.
+"Partner, this thing of understudying a football hero is mighty wearing.
+I'm through for all time. After this, Ned, you'll have to provide your
+own substitute! I'm done!"
+
+"How--why--how did you happen to think of it?" asked Ned, rather humbly.
+"Weren't you--scared?"
+
+"Scared? Have a heart! I was frightened to death every minute I sat on
+the bench. And then, when Mulford yelped at me, I--well, I simply passed
+away altogether! I'm at least ten years older than I was this morning,
+Neddie, and I'll bet I've got gray hairs all over my poor old head. You
+see, Murray as much as said that it was all day with you if you didn't
+show up. Kewpie was a bit down-hearted about it, too. I waited around
+until half-past one or after, thinking every moment that you'd turn
+up--hoping you would, anyhow; although, to be right honest, Neddie, I
+had a sort of hunch, after the way you acted and talked, that maybe
+you'd gone off on purpose. Anyhow, about one o'clock I got to thinking,
+and the more I thought the more I got into the notion that something had
+to be done if the honor of the Turners was to be--be upheld. And the
+only thing I could think of was putting on your togs and bluffing it
+through. Kewpie owned up that he'd been talking rot last night--that he
+didn't really think you'd be called on to-day. And I decided to take a
+chance. Of course, if I'd known what was going to happen I guess I
+wouldn't have had the courage; but I didn't know. I thought all I'd have
+to do was sit on the bench and watch.
+
+"So I went over to the gym and got your togs on, and streaked out to the
+field, I guess I looked as much like you as you do, for none of the
+fellows knew that I wasn't you. I was careful not to talk much. Mr.
+Mulford gave me thunder, and so did Murray, and Joe Stevenson looked
+pretty black. I just said I was sorry, and there wasn't much time to
+explain, anyway, because the game was starting about the time I got
+there. Once, in the third period, when Slavin was hurt, Mulford looked
+along the bench and stopped when he got to me, and I thought my time had
+come. But I guess he wanted to punish me for being late. Anyway, Boessel
+got the job. When the blow did fall, Neddie, I was sick clean through.
+My tummy sort of folded up and my spine was about as stiff as--as a
+drink of water! I wanted to run, or crawl under the bench or something.
+'You've pleased yourself so far to-day, Turner,' said Mulford. 'Now
+suppose you do something for the school. Kendrick will call for a kick.
+You see that it gets over, or I'll have something to say to you later.
+Remember this, though: not a word to any one but the referee until after
+the next play. Now get out there and _win this game!_'
+
+"Nice thing to say to a chap who'd never kicked a football in his life
+except around the street! But, gee, Neddie, what could I do? I'd started
+the thing, and I had to see it through. Of course I thought that maybe
+I'd ought to fess up that I wasn't me--or, rather, you--and let some one
+else kick. But I knew there wasn't any one else they could depend on,
+and I decided that if some one had to miss the goal, it might as well be
+me--or you. Besides, there was the honor of the Turners! So I sneaked
+out, with my heart in my boots,--your boots, I mean,--and Hop called for
+a line play, and then another one, and I thought maybe I was going to
+get off without making a fool of myself. But no such luck. 'Take all the
+time you want, Nid,' said Hop. 'We'll hold 'em for you. Drop it over,
+for the love of mud! We've got to have this game!' 'Drop it?' said I.
+'Not on your life, Hop! Make it a place-kick or I'll never have a
+chance!' 'What do you mean?' he asked. 'I mean I can't drop-kick
+to-day.' I guess something in my voice or the way I said it put him on,
+for he looked at me pretty sharp. Still, maybe he didn't guess the
+truth, either, for he let me have my way and let me kick.
+
+"After that"--Laurie half closed his eyes and shook his head
+slowly--"after that I don't really know what did happen. I have a sort
+of a hazy recollection of Hop shouting some signals that didn't mean a
+thing in my young life, and kneeling on the ground a couple of yards
+ahead of me. I didn't dare look at the goal, though I knew it was ahead
+of me and about twenty yards away. Then there was a brown streak, and
+things began to move, and I moved with them. I suppose I swung my
+foot,-probably my right one, though it may have been my left,--and then
+I closed my eyes tight and waited for some one to kill me. Next thing I
+knew, I was being killed--or I thought I thought I was, for a second. It
+turned out, though, that the fellows weren't really killing me; they
+were just beating me black and blue to show they were pleased.
+
+"Of course, it was all the biggest piece of luck that ever happened,
+Ned. Hop aimed the ball just right, and somehow or other I managed to
+kick it. Maybe any one would have done just as well, because I guess it
+was an easy goal. Anyway, the honor of the Turners was safe!"
+
+"You're a regular brick," said Ned, a bit huskily. "What--what happened
+afterward? I didn't stay."
+
+"Afterward Hop looked at me kind of queer and said, 'I guess that'll do
+for you, Turner,' and I beat it away from there as fast as I knew how,
+and Mulford sent in some other poor unfortunate. There were only half a
+dozen plays after that, and we kicked whenever we got the ball."
+
+"Do you think any one but Hop found out?" asked Ned, anxiously.
+
+"Not a one. And I'm not sure, mind you, that Hop did. You see, he didn't
+_say_ anything. Only, he did call me 'Nid' at first, and then 'Turner'
+the next time. I haven't seen him since. I guess I never will know,
+unless I ask him. One thing's sure, though, Ned, and that is that Hop
+won't talk."
+
+"You don't think I'd ought to fess up?" asked Ned.
+
+"I do not," replied Laurie stoutly. "What's the good? It wasn't your
+fault if you went to sleep out in the country. If any one's to blame,
+it's me. I oughtn't to have hoaxed them. No, sir; if Mulford or any one
+says anything, just you tell them you fell asleep and couldn't help
+getting there late. But I don't believe any one will ask questions now.
+They're all too pleased and excited. But, gee, Neddie! I certainly am
+glad I made that goal instead of missing it. I'd be a pretty mean
+feeling pup to-night if I hadn't!"
+
+"It was wonderful," mused Ned. "You putting it over, I mean. With all
+that crowd looking on, and Farview shouting--"
+
+"Shouting? I didn't hear them. I didn't know whether there was any one
+around just then! I had troubles of my own, partner! Know something?
+Well, I think there's the chap who kicked that goal." Laurie raised his
+right foot and displayed one of Ned's scuffed football shoes. "I guess I
+just sort of left things to him and he did the business. Good old Mister
+Shoe!"
+
+Ned jumped to his feet and pulled Laurie from the bed. "For the love of
+lemons," he cried, "get those togs off before any one comes in!"
+
+"Gee, that's so!" Laurie worked feverishly, while Ned stumbled over a
+chair and turned the key in the lock.
+
+"A fine pair of idiots we are!" exclaimed Ned, as he ripped Laurie's
+shirt off for him. "Suppose Hop or Kewpie had come in while we were
+sitting here!"
+
+Hillman's spent the rest of the evening in celebration. In the
+dining-hall the appearance of any member of the squad was the signal for
+hand-clapping and cheers, and when Ned entered, followed by Laurie, the
+applause was deafening. Ned showed himself to be a very modest and
+retiring hero, for he fairly scuttled to his seat, and kept his head
+bent over his plate long after the applause had died away. Then,
+stealing an unhappy glance at Laurie, he found that youth grinning
+broadly, and was the recipient of a most meaningful wink. After supper,
+in the corridor, the twins ran squarely into Hop Kendrick. Ned tried to
+pull aside, but Laurie stood his ground. Hop was plainly a very happy
+youth to-night, although even when happiest he never entirely lost his
+look of earnest gravity.
+
+"Well, we did it, Nid!" he said joyfully, clapping that youth on the
+shoulder. "That was a corking kick of yours, son!"
+
+Ned stammered something utterly unintelligible, but Laurie came to the
+rescue: "Ned says it was the way you pointed the ball that won that
+goal, Hop," he said casually. "He's mighty modest about it."
+
+Hop shot a quick glance at the speaker, and Ned declared afterward that
+there was a smile behind it. But all he said was: "Oh, well, pointing
+isn't everything, Nod. _Some one's_ got to kick it!"
+
+When he had gone on, Ned and Laurie viewed each other questioningly.
+"Think he knows?" asked Ned. Laurie shook his head frowningly. "You've
+got me, partner!" he answered.
+
+And, because neither asked Hop Kendrick outright, neither ever did know!
+
+There were songs and speeches and a general jollification after supper,
+ending in a parade of cheering, singing youths who marched through the
+town from end to end, and at last drew up outside Doctor Hillman's porch
+and shouted until that gentleman appeared and responded. The Doctor's
+words were few, but they hit the spot, and when there had been another
+long cheer for him, and another long cheer for the team, and a final
+mighty cheer for the school, the happy boys called it a day and sought
+the dormitories.
+
+Ned was just dropping off to sleep that night when Laurie's voice
+reached him through the darkness.
+
+"Ned!" called Laurie.
+
+"Huh?"
+
+"Are you awake?"
+
+"Uh-huh."
+
+"Listen. It's a fortunate thing to be a twin."
+
+There was a long moment of silence. Then Ned's voice came sleepily:
+
+"'Cause if one twin can't the other twin kin!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII--THE BOYS MAKE A PRESENT
+
+
+The week or so succeeding the Farview game seemed like an anticlimax.
+The bottom had sort of dropped out of things and there was no immediate
+excitement to look forward to. The weather became as miserable as
+weather possibly could, the slight snowfall that followed the rain of
+Thanksgiving Day lasting only long enough to be seen by the early
+risers. Perhaps it was well that lack of events and inclement weather
+ruled, for Ned and a good many other boys in school were no worse for an
+opportunity to apply themselves undisturbedly to their studies.
+Basketball candidates were called the first Monday in December, and the
+twins held a serious conference on the question of reporting. Ned, who
+felt rather flat since there was no more football, was half inclined to
+go in for the game, and would have had Laurie insisted. But Laurie voted
+that for the present the Turners had done sufficient in the athletic
+line, that the honor of the family demanded no further sacrifices on the
+altar of duty. So Ned abandoned the idea and talked of trying for the
+crew in the spring.
+
+When December was a week old, the fellows set their gaze on the
+Christmas recess, which this year began on Wednesday, three days before
+Christmas, and lasted until the 2d of January. Eleven days are not
+sufficient to make a trip across the continent and back advisable,
+although the twins figured that, with the best of fortune, they would be
+able to reach Santa Lucia in time for dinner Christmas night. On the
+other hand, the missing of one connection would delay their arrival
+until the following afternoon, and, as Laurie pointed out, they were
+fairly certain to be held up somewhere on the way, and a sleeping-car
+wasn't exactly an ideal place in which to spend the holiday! Besides,
+there was a noticeable lack of encouragement from home. It had been
+accepted beforehand that the boys were to remain at the school during
+the recess, and nothing in Mr. Turner's fortnightly letters hinted that
+he had changed his mind.
+
+"I'd just as lief stay here, anyway," declared Ned. "We can have a lot
+more fun. Maybe there'll be a bunch of snow, and I'm dying to try
+skiing."
+
+"You bet! And skating, too! And then there's that other scheme. Mustn't
+forget that, Neddie."
+
+"You mean--"
+
+"Yes. Didn't you say we'd do it during vacation?"
+
+"Sure! It--it'll take quite a lot of money, though, Laurie. And we'll
+have presents to buy for Dad and Aunt Emmie and the cousins--"
+
+"The cousins get Christmas cards, and that's all they do get,"
+interrupted Laurie, decisively. "That's all they ever give us, and I'd
+rather spend my money on something that'll really--really benefit some
+one. I guess Dad'll send us some more money, too, for Christmas. We can
+do it, all right. I've got nearly seven dollars right now. I haven't
+spent hardly any money this month."
+
+"All right. Some day soon we'll go downtown and find out how much it's
+going to cost and what we'll need and everything. I say, we can get Bob
+to help us, too!"
+
+"Rather! And three or four other fellows, I guess. Every one likes the
+Widow, and George says there will be five or six fellows here during
+recess. He was here last year, and he says he had a dandy time."
+
+"Let's get George this afternoon and get the thing started. We can find
+out the--the area and ask the man how much we'll need."
+
+"Sure! And we can buy it and store it at Bob's. Then all we'll have to
+do will be carry it over the fence. I'll go down and see if I can find
+him. Look here, Neddie. Why don't we do it before Christmas and make it
+a sort of Christmas present? Say we worked hard all day Thursday and
+Friday--"
+
+"Great! Only if it snowed--"
+
+Laurie's face fell. "Gee, that's so! I suppose we couldn't do it if it
+snowed. Or rained. Or if it was frightfully cold."
+
+"They say it doesn't get real cold here until after New Year's," said
+Ned, reassuringly. "But of course it might snow or rain. Well, we'll do
+it in time for Christmas if we can. If we can't, we'll do it for New
+Year's. I'll bet she'll be tickled to death. I say, though! We never
+found out about the color!"
+
+"I did," answered Laurie modestly. "I asked Polly. She said white."
+
+"White! Geewhillikins, Laurie, that makes it harder, doesn't it? We'd
+have to put on two coats!"
+
+"Think so?" Laurie frowned. "I guess we would. That would take twice as
+long, eh? Look here; maybe--maybe I can get Polly to change her mind!"
+
+"That's likely, you chump!" Ned scowled thoughtfully. Finally, "I tell
+you what," he said. "Suppose we went around there sometime, and talked
+with Mrs. Deane, and told her how nice we think blue looks and how sort
+of--of distinctive! Gee, it wouldn't be any trick at all to make it
+blue; but white--" He shook his head despondently.
+
+"Cheer up!" said Laurie. "I've got the dope, partner! Listen. We'll tell
+them that it ought to be blue because blue's the school color and all
+that. Mrs. Deane thinks a heap of Hillman's, and she'll fall for it as
+sure as shooting. So'll Polly! Come on! Let's find George and get the
+thing started!"
+
+"Better get Bob to go with us, too. He said something about wanting to
+pay his share of it, so we'd better let him in right from the start.
+After all, we don't want to hog it, Laurie!"
+
+A fortnight later the exodus came. Of the four-score lads who lived at
+Hillman's, all but eight took their departure that Wednesday morning,
+and Ned and Laurie and George watched the last group drive off for the
+station with feelings of genuine satisfaction. Life at school during the
+eleven days of recess promised to be busy and enjoyable, and they were
+eager to see the decks cleared, so to speak, and to start the new way of
+living. Ned and Laurie had had plenty of invitations for Christmas week.
+Both Kewpie and Lee Murdock had earnestly desired their society at their
+respective homes, and there had been others less insistent but possibly
+quite as cordial invitations. But neither one had weakened. George half
+promised one of the boys to visit him for a few days after Christmas,
+but later he canceled his acceptance.
+
+Besides George and the twins, there remained at school five other
+fellows who, because they lived at a distance and railway fares were
+high, or for other reasons, found it expedient to accept Doctor
+Hillman's hospitality. None of the five, two juniors, one lower middler,
+and two upper middlers, were known to the twins more than casually when
+recess began; but eating together three times a day and being thrown in
+one another's society at other times soon made the acquaintance much
+closer, and all proved to be decent, likable chaps.
+
+Meals were served at a corner table in West Hall, and during recess
+there were seldom fewer than three of the faculty present. That may
+sound depressing, but in vacation-time an instructor becomes quite a
+human, jovial person, and the scant dozen around the table enjoyed
+themselves hugely. In the evening Doctor Hillman held open house, and
+Miss Tabitha showed a genius for providing methods of entertainment.
+Sometimes they popped corn in the fireplace in the cozy living-room,
+sometimes they roasted apples. Once it was chestnuts that jumped on the
+hearth. Then, too, Miss Tabitha was a past mistress in the art of making
+fudge, and on two occasions Mr. Barrett, the mathematics instructor,
+displayed such a sweet tooth that the boys lost the last of their awe
+and "ragged" him without mercy. Several times the Doctor read aloud,
+choosing, to the boys' surprise, a corking detective novel that had them
+squirming on the edges of their chairs. Toward the last of the vacation,
+Laurie confided to Ned and George that he wished recess was just
+beginning.
+
+To Ned's and Laurie's great disappointment, neither snow nor ice
+appeared and the weather remained merely briskly cold, with sometimes a
+day like Indian summer. But I am getting ahead of my story, which really
+comes to an end on Christmas Day.
+
+More than a week before the closing of school, the four conspirators had
+finished their preparations for the task that was to provide the Widow
+Deane with a novel Christmas present. In Bob's cellar were many cans
+containing blue paint, white paint, linseed oil, and turpentine. There
+were brushes there, too, and a scraper, and a roll of cotton rags
+provided by Polly. For, in the end, it had become necessary to acquaint
+Polly with the project. Against Bob's back fence reposed all the
+ladders, of varying lengths, that the neighborhood afforded. Wednesday
+evening Ned and Laurie and George herded the other boys into George's
+room, and explained the scheme and asked for volunteers. They got five
+most enthusiastic ones.
+
+Nine o'clock the next morning was set as the time for the beginning of
+the work, and at that hour nine rather disreputably-attired youths
+appeared in Mrs. Deane's yard, arriving by way of the back fence, and
+began their assault. The first the Widow knew of what was happening was
+when, being then occupied with the task of tidying up the sleeping-room
+on the second floor, she was startled to see the head and shoulders of a
+boy appear outside her window. Her exclamation of alarm gave place to
+murmurs of bewilderment as the supposed burglar contented himself with
+lifting the two shutters from their hinges and passing them down the
+ladder to some unseen accomplice. Mrs. Deane looked forth. In the garden
+was what at first glimpse looked like a convention of tramps. They were
+armed with ladders and brushes and pots of paint, and they were already
+very busy. Across two trestles set on the grass plot, the stolen
+shutters were laid as fast as they were taken down. One boy, flourishing
+a broad-bladed implement, scraped the rough surfaces. A second plied a
+big round brush, dusting diligently. Numbers three and four, as soon as
+the first two operatives retired, attacked with brushes dripping with
+white paint. In almost no time at all the first shutter was off the
+trestles and leaning, fresh and spotless, against the fence. Every
+instant another shutter appeared. Mrs. Deane gazed in fascinated
+amazement. One after another, she recognized the miscreants: the two
+Turner boys, George Watson, Mr. Starling's son, Hal Goring, the Stanton
+boy, and the rest; but, although recognition brought reassurance,
+bewilderment remained, and she hurried downstairs as fast as ever she
+could go.
+
+Polly was on the back porch, a very disturbed and somewhat indignant
+Towser in her arms, evidently a party to the undertaking, and to her
+Mrs. Deane breathlessly appealed.
+
+"Polly! What are they doing?" she gasped.
+
+"You'll have to ask the boys, Mama." Polly's eyes were dancing. "Nid,
+here's Mama, and she wants to know what you're doing!"
+
+Nid hurried up, a dripping brush in one hand and a smear of white paint
+across one cheek, followed by Laurie. The others paused at their various
+tasks to watch smilingly.
+
+"Painting the house, Mrs. Deane!"
+
+"Painting the house! My house? Why--why--what--who--"
+
+"Yes'm. There's the blue paint. It's as near like the old as we could
+find. You don't think it's too dark, do you?"
+
+"But I don't understand, Nid Turner!" said Mrs. Deane helplessly. "Who
+told you to? Who's going to pay for it?"
+
+"It's all paid for, ma'am. It--it's a sort of Christmas present from
+us--from the school. You--you don't mind, do you?"
+
+"Well, I never did!" Mrs. Deane looked from Ned to Laurie, her mouth
+quivering. "I--I don't know what to say. I guess I'll--I'll go see if
+any one's--in the shop, Polly. Did you think you--heard the bell?" Mrs.
+Deane's eyes were frankly wet as she turned hurriedly away and
+disappeared inside. Ned viewed Polly anxiously.
+
+"Do you think she--doesn't like it?" he half whispered.
+
+Polly shook her head and laughed softly, although her own eyes were not
+quite dry. "Of course she likes it, you stupid boy! She just didn't know
+what to say. She'll be back pretty soon, after she's had a little cry."
+
+"Oh!" said Ned and Laurie in chorus, their faces brightening; and Laurie
+added apologetically: "Gee, we didn't want to make her cry, Polly!"
+
+"That sort of a cry doesn't hurt," said Polly.
+
+Afterward Mrs. Deane said a great deal, and said it very sweetly, and
+the boys got more or less embarrassed, and were heartily glad when she
+drew Ned to her and kissed him, much to that youth's distress, and the
+incident ended in laughter. By noon the shutters were done, and nine
+industrious amateur painters were swarming over the back of the little
+house. I'm not going to tell you that the job was done as perfectly as
+Sprague and Currie, Painters and Paper-hangers, would have done it, but
+you're to believe that it was done much quicker and at a far greater
+saving of money! And when it was finished no one except a professional
+would ever have known the difference. Perhaps there was more blue and
+white paint scattered around the landscape than was absolutely
+necessary, and it always remained a mystery how Antoinette managed to
+get her right ear looking like a bit of Italian sky, for every one
+professed ignorance and Antoinette was apparently well protected from
+spatters. (It took Polly more than a week to restore the rabbit to her
+original appearance.)
+
+When the early winter twilight fell and it became necessary to knock off
+work for the day, the blue painting was more than half done and, unless
+weather prevented, it was certain that the entire task would be finished
+by to-morrow evening. Mrs. Deane served five-o'clock tea,--only it
+happened to be four-o'clock tea instead,--and nine very, very hungry
+lads did full justice to the repast, and the little room behind the
+store held a merry party. Perhaps the prevailing odor of paint detracted
+somewhat from Mrs. Deane's and Polly's enjoyment of the refreshments,
+but you may be certain they made no mention of the fact.
+
+That night the boys viewed the cloudy sky apprehensively. Laurie, who
+knew little about it, declared dubiously that it smelt like snow. But
+when morning came, although the cloudiness persisted most of the day,
+the weather remained kindly, with just enough frost in the air to chill
+feet and nip idle fingers and to give an added zest to labor. Very
+little time was wasted on luncheon, and at two o'clock the last slap of
+blue paint had been applied and the more difficult work of doing the
+white trim began. Fortunately, there were only eleven windows and two
+doors, and although "drawing" the sashes was slow and finicking work,
+with nine willing hands hard at it the end came shortly after dusk,
+when, watched by eight impatient companions, young Haskell, one of the
+junior class boys, with trembling fingers drew his brush along the last
+few inches of a front window, and then, because he was quite keyed up
+and because it was much too dark to see well, celebrated the culmination
+of his efforts by putting a foot squarely into a can of white paint!
+
+When first-aid methods had been applied, he was allowed, on promise to
+put only one foot to the floor, to accompany the rest inside and
+announce to a delighted and slightly tremulous Mrs. Deane that the work
+was completed. There was a real celebration then, with more piping-hot
+tea and lots of perfectly scrumptious cream-puffs,--besides less
+enticing bread-and-butter sandwiches,--and Mrs. Deane tried hard to
+thank the boys and couldn't quite do it, and Polly failed almost as
+dismally, and Laurie made a wonderful speech that no one understood very
+well, except for the general meaning, and nine flushed and very happy
+youths cheered long and loudly for Mrs. Deane, and finally departed
+merrily into the winter twilight, calling back many a "Merry Christmas"
+as they went.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII--THE SECRET PASSAGE
+
+
+Christmas Day dawned clear and mild, a green Christmas if ever there was
+one. And yet, in spite of the absence of such traditional accompaniments
+as snow and ice, the spirit of the season was there in abundance. Ned
+and Laurie, wakening early to the sound of church bells, felt Christmasy
+right from the first conscious moment. When they hastened down the hall
+for their baths, they could hear George and Hal Goring on the floor
+below uniting in what they fondly believed was song. Later, at
+breakfast, beside a perfectly wonderful repast in which chicken and
+little crisp sausages and hot, crisp waffles played leading roles, the
+Doctor and Miss Tabitha had placed at each plate a Christmas card tied
+by a tiny blue ribbon to a diminutive painter's brush! Later on there
+was to be a tree in the Doctor's living-room. In fact, the tree was
+already there, and the boys had spent much of the preceding evening
+trimming it and placing around its base inexpensive gifts of a joking
+nature for one another and the Doctor and Miss Tabitha and the two
+instructors who were there.
+
+Laurie and Ned had exchanged presents with each other and had received
+several from home, not the least welcome of which was a check from their
+father. And they had bought small gifts for George and Bob. Also, though
+you needn't tell it around school, Laurie had purchased a most
+odoriferous and ornate bottle of perfume for Polly! So when, shortly
+after breakfast, Ned suggested that Laurie take Bob's present over to
+him, Laurie evinced entire willingness to perform the errand. That he
+carried not one gift but two in his pockets was, however, beyond Ned's
+knowledge. A cheerful whistling from the back of the house drew Laurie
+past the front entrance, and he found Bob, attired in any but festal
+garments, swinging open the bulkhead doors. A pair of old gray trousers
+and a disreputable brown sweater formed most of his costume. At sight of
+Laurie he gave a joyful whoop.
+
+"Merry Christmas!" he called. "I was going over to see you in a minute.
+Thomas is in bed with a cold or something, and I'm furnace-man and
+general factotle--"
+
+"Factotum, you mean," laughed Laurie.
+
+"All right! As you fellows say, what do I care? I don't own it. Now
+you're here, you can just give me a hand with this load of junk. Dad
+says it doesn't look shipshape for Christmas." Bob indicated more than a
+dozen paint-cans, empty, partly empty, or unopened, and a mess of
+brushes, paddles, and rags that they had set there last evening. "I
+suppose a lot of these might as well be thrown away, but we'll dump the
+whole caboodle down in the cellar for now."
+
+"All right," agreed Laurie. "First, though, here's something that Ned
+and I thought you might like. It isn't anything much, you know, Bob;
+just a--a trinket."
+
+"For me?" Bob took the little packet, and removed the paper and then the
+lid, disclosing a pair of silver cuff-links lying in a nest of
+cotton-wool. As Laurie said, they weren't much, but they were neat and
+the jeweler had made a very good job of the three plain block letters,
+R. D. S., that he had engraved on them. "Gee, they're corking!"
+exclaimed Bob, with unmistakable sincerity. "I needed them, too, Nod. I
+lost one of a pair just the other day, and--"
+
+"I know you did. That's why we got those."
+
+"Well, I'm awfully much obliged. They're great. I've got a couple of
+little things upstairs for you chaps. They aren't nearly so nice as
+these, but I'll get 'em--"
+
+"Wait till we finish this job," said Laurie. "Grab a handful and come
+on. Is Thomas very sick?"
+
+"I guess not," replied Bob, as he followed the other down the steps. "He
+ate some breakfast, but aunt thought he'd better stay in bed. I had a
+great time with the furnace this morning. Got up at half-past six and
+shoveled coal to beat the band!"
+
+"Where do you want to put these?" asked Laurie.
+
+"Anywhere, I guess. Hold on; let's dump 'em on the shelves in the closet
+there. Then they'll be out of the way. Some day we'll clean the cans all
+out, and maybe we'll get enough to paint that arbor we're going to
+build. Here you are."
+
+Bob led the way to a small room built against the rear wall of the big
+cellar. Designed for a preserve closet, its shelves had probably long
+been empty of aught save dust, and the door, wide open, hung from one
+hinge. It was some six feet broad and perhaps five feet deep, built of
+matched boards. Before Bob entered the cobwebby doorway with his load of
+cans, its only contents were an accumulation of empty preserve-jars in a
+wooden box set on the cement floor beneath a lower shelf at the back.
+There were eight shelves across the rear wall, divided in the center by
+a vertical board into two tiers. Bob placed his load on a lower shelf
+and Laurie put his on the shelf above. As he drew away he noticed that
+the shelf appeared to have worked out from the boards at the back, and
+he gave it a blow on the edge with the flat of one hand. It slipped back
+into place, but, to his surprise, it came forward again an inch or two,
+and all the other shelves in that tier came with it!
+
+"Hey!" said Laurie, startled.
+
+Bob, at the doorway, turned. "What's the matter?" he asked.
+
+"Nothing, only--" Laurie took hold of the shelf above the loosened one
+and pulled. It yielded a little, and so did the other shelves and the
+rear wall of the cubicle, but it was only a matter of less than an inch.
+Bob, at his side, looked on interestedly.
+
+"That's funny," he said. "Push on it."
+
+Laurie pushed, and the tier went back a couple of inches. "Looks like
+this side was separate from the rest," said Laurie. "What's the idea of
+having it come out like that?"
+
+"Search me!" answered Bob. "Pull it toward you again and let me have a
+look." A second later he exclaimed: "The whole side is loose, Nod, but
+it can't come out because the ends of the shelves strike this partition
+board! Try it again!" Laurie obeyed, moving the tier back and forth
+three or four times as far as it would go. Bob shook his head in
+puzzlement, his gaze roving around the dim interior. Then, "Look here,"
+he said. "The shelves on the side aren't on a level with the back ones,
+Nod."
+
+"What of it?"
+
+"Nothing, maybe; only, if the back swung out the side shelves wouldn't
+stop it! See what I mean?"
+
+"Not exactly. Anyhow, it doesn't swing out, so what's the--"
+
+"Hold on!" Bob sprang forward and seized the edge of a shelf in the
+right-hand tier close to the partition board, and pulled. It readily
+yielded an inch, but no more.
+
+"Wait!" Laurie bent and pulled aside the box of jars. "Now!"
+
+Then, as Bob tugged, to their amazement the right-hand tier swung toward
+them, its lower edge scraping on the cement floor, and the left-hand
+tier swung with it, the whole back wall of the closet, shelves and all,
+opening toward them like a pair of double doors!
+
+"Gee!" whispered Laurie. "What do you suppose--"
+
+"Pull them wide open and let's find out," said Bob recklessly.
+
+When the two sides were open as far as they would go, there was an
+aperture between them some three feet wide. Beyond it was darkness,
+though, as they gazed, the stones of the cellar wall took shape dimly.
+Then Laurie seized Bob's arm.
+
+"Look!" he whispered excitedly. Behind, where the left-hand tier of
+shelves had stood, was a blacker patch about three feet high by two feet
+wide, which, as they stared in fascination, evolved itself into an
+opening in the wall.
+
+"Know what I think?" asked Bob, in low tones. "I think we've found the
+miser's hiding-place, Nod!"
+
+"Honest? Maybe it's just a--a drain or something. Got a match?"
+
+"There are some over by the furnace. Hold your horses!" Bob hurried out,
+and was back in a moment and was standing at the opening between the
+doors with a lighted match held toward the opening in the wall. As the
+little light grew they saw that the stones of the wall had been removed
+from a space of a foot above the floor and three feet high and some two
+feet wide. Around the opening so made cement had been applied in the
+form of a smooth casing.
+
+The match flickered and went out, and in the succeeding gloom the two
+boys stared at each other with wide eyes.
+
+"Would you dare go in there?" asked Laurie.
+
+"Sure! Why not? It can't be anything but a sort of cave underground.
+Wait till I get a candle."
+
+"A lantern would be better," suggested Laurie, viewing the hole
+dubiously.
+
+"That's so, and there's one here somewhere. I noticed it the other day."
+Bob's voice came from the cellar beyond, and Laurie heard him walking
+around out there. Then, "I've got it!" Bob called. "There's oil in it,
+too! Now we'll have a look!"
+
+Laurie heard the chimney of the lantern squeak as it was forced up and
+then drop into place again. Then a wan light came toward the closet, and
+Bob appeared, triumphant and excited. "Wait till I turn it up a bit.
+There we are! Come on!"
+
+They passed through between the doors, Bob leading, and stooped before
+the hole in the wall. Bob held the lantern inside, and Laurie peered
+over his shoulder. "Gee, it's high," whispered the latter.
+
+"Yes, and it isn't a cave at all; it's a tunnel!" said Bob, in awed
+tones. "What do you say?"
+
+"I'll go, if you will," replied Laurie, stoutly; and without much
+enthusiasm Bob ducked his head and crawled through. Past the two-foot
+wall was a passage, more than head-high and about a yard in width, stone
+walled and arched, that led straight ahead farther than the light of the
+lantern penetrated. The walls were dry, but the earthen floor was damp
+to the touch. There was a musty odor, though the air in there seemed
+fresh.
+
+"Where do you suppose it goes to?" asked Bob, in a hushed voice.
+
+"I can't imagine. But it runs straight back from the cellar, and so it
+must pass under the garden. Let's--let's go on, Bob."
+
+"Sure! Only I thought we were going to find old Coventry's treasure!"
+
+"How do you know we aren't?" asked Laurie.
+
+"That's so! Maybe he buried it under the garden." Their footfalls
+sounded clearly on the hard-packed earth floor as they went ahead.
+Suddenly Bob, in the lead, uttered an exclamation, and Laurie jumped a
+foot and then hurried forward to where the other was standing. Beside
+him, its point buried in the floor of the tunnel, was the lost crowbar!
+
+"What do you know?" gasped Bob. "We're under the farther end of the
+arbor. That bar came through between those stones up here." He touch the
+crevice in the arched roof with a finger. "See the dirt it brought down
+with it? Well, that explains that mystery!"
+
+"Yes, but--where does this thing go to, Bob?"
+
+"Let's find out. It can't go much farther, because the arbor was only
+about forty feet from the back fence."
+
+But they went that forty feet and perhaps forty more before the wavering
+light of the lantern showed them a stout wooden door across their path.
+Formed of two-inch planking and strengthened with three broad cleats, it
+was hinged to a frame of concrete. It wasn't a big door, but it looked
+very formidable to the two boys who stood there and viewed it dubiously
+in the yellow glare of the lantern; for a big square iron lock held it
+firmly in place.
+
+"Guess we don't go any farther," said Bob, dryly.
+
+"Maybe the key's here somewhere," Laurie suggested; and, although Bob
+scoffed at the suggestion, they searched thoroughly but without success.
+
+"We could bust it," Bob said; "only maybe we haven't any right to."
+
+"I don't see why not, Bob. We discovered it. Let's!"
+
+"We-ell, but one of us'll have to go for a hammer or something."
+
+"Sure; I'll go."
+
+"And leave me here in the dark? I guess not!"
+
+"We'll both go, then. Hold on! What's the matter with the crowbar?"
+
+"Of course! I never thought of that! I'll fetch it!" The light receded
+down the tunnel until it was small and dim, and Laurie, left alone in
+front of the mysterious portal, felt none too happy. Of course there was
+nothing to be afraid of, but he was awfully glad when the light drew
+nearer again and Bob returned. "You hold this," directed Bob, "and I'll
+give it a couple of whacks."
+
+Laurie took the lantern, and Bob brought the bar down smartly on the
+lock. Probably it was old and rusty, for it broke into pieces under the
+blow, and in another instant they had thrust the heavy bolt back. Then
+Bob took a long breath and pulled the door toward them. The hinges
+squeaked loudly, startlingly, in the silence. Before them lay darkness,
+and Laurie, leaning past the doorway, raised the lantern high.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV--A MERRY CHRISTMAS
+
+
+"Guess Laurie got lost," grumbled Ned, kicking one foot against the step
+and looking across the yard.
+
+George laughed. "Guess you could find him if you went as far as the
+Widow's, Nid."
+
+"Well, he ought to be back. It's nearly time for the tree, isn't it?"
+Characteristically, Ned saved himself the trouble of determining the
+matter for himself, and it was George who looked at his watch.
+
+"There's 'most an hour yet. Let's go and have a look for him. He and Bob
+are probably at Polly's."
+
+But they didn't get as far as Polly's just then, for when they reached
+the corner they descried Laurie tearing along the side yard of the
+Coventry place. At sight of them he moderated his speed slightly and
+began to shout, waving both hands in a quite demented manner.
+
+"What's he saying?" asked George. "What's wrong?"
+
+"Wants us to hurry," grumbled Ned. "We are hurrying, you idiot!" he
+continued, raising his voice. But he hurried faster, George at his
+heels, and met Laurie at the front gate.
+
+"What's your trouble?" he demanded. "House on fire? Bob got the croup?
+What is it? Can't you talk?"
+
+"Can't tell you," panted Laurie. "You've got to see--for yourself! Come
+on!"
+
+He seized Ned by one arm, and pulled him away and around the house and
+down the bulkhead steps, George loping after them. In the cellar stood
+Bob, disreputable in his old clothes and adorned with dust and cobwebs,
+a lighted lantern in one hand.
+
+"Has he told you?" he cried, as the others piled down the stairs.
+
+"Told me? He hasn't told anything," gasped Ned, shaking himself free at
+last. "What is it?"
+
+Bob laughed loudly and gleefully. "Then come on!" he shouted. He dashed
+into the preserve closet, Ned, George, and Laurie at his heels, passed
+from sight for an instant, and was seen again crawling through a hole in
+the wall. Ned and George showered questions as they pattered along the
+tunnel, but all they received in reply was insane laughter and a
+meaningless, breathless jumble of words. And then they were at the
+farther portal, and Bob led the way through, and they followed.
+
+They found themselves in a small cellar-like compartment scarcely four
+paces square. It was windowless, although, close to the raftered ceiling
+in the rear wall, two oblongs of brick set in the stone showed where at
+some time small windows had been. The floor was paved with flat stones.
+In one corner, the only objects there, were a small iron chest, its lid
+swung open and back, and a crowbar. The newcomers stared in amazement,
+the truth slowly dawning on them. It was Laurie who spoke first.
+
+"Go and look!" he said excitedly.
+
+Ned and George obeyed. Within the chest lay four fat, heavy brownish
+envelopes, bound and tied with pink tape.
+
+"Take one out and open it," said Bob over Ned's shoulder.
+
+Ned picked up one. Across one end was written in scrawly characters the
+inscription "Gov't."
+
+"'Government,'" explained Laurie, softly. "It's full of United States
+bonds. Nearly a dozen of them. Have a look."
+
+"Geewhillikins!" breathed Ned, in awe, as he drew the folded contents
+into the light. "Old Coventry's, do you mean?"
+
+"Of course! Whose else? And there are three more lots. We haven't
+figured them up yet, but there must be fifty thousand dollars' worth!"
+
+"Maybe they're no good," offered George.
+
+"How do you mean, no good?" asked Ned indignantly. "United States bonds
+are always good!"
+
+"Well, the others--"
+
+"They're railroad bonds, all of them, three different lots," said Bob.
+"I guess they're all right, too, don't you, Ned?"
+
+"Right as rain! Why, the old codger--What's that?" he asked suddenly,
+looking ceiling-ward. Laurie laughed.
+
+"That's what we wondered," he answered. "We jumped when we heard it
+first. Don't you know where you are?"
+
+Ned looked around him and shook his head.
+
+"Under the Widow Deane's house!"
+
+"Wha-at! But Polly said there wasn't any cellar!"
+
+"She doesn't know any better. Look above you. See where the stairway
+went? The old chap must have torn it away and boarded the hole up; and
+bricked up the windows, too. It must have cost him a pretty penny to do
+all this!"
+
+"What--what are you going to do with it?" asked George, pointing to the
+chest.
+
+"Why, hand it over to the lawyers, whoever they are, I suppose,"
+answered Bob. "But first of all we're going to take those bonds and dump
+them into the Widow's lap. I always said I'd hand it all over to her,
+when I found it. I never thought I would find it, but I have--or Laurie
+has, because if he hadn't noticed that the shelves were loose we never
+would--"
+
+"Besides," interrupted George, "she comes in for a share of the money.
+Come on, fellows! Let's do it now! Gee, it will be some Christmas
+present!"
+
+"Won't it? Let's each one take a package," said Laurie. "We'll leave
+everything just as it is for the lawyer folks. Come on!"
+
+"Say, fellows, there's an awfully funny smell down here," observed
+George. "Sort of--sort of sweet, like--like violets or something. Notice
+it?"
+
+"Yes, I noticed it before I got in here, though," said Ned. "Wonder what
+it is."
+
+"Oh, places like this get to smelling funny after they've been shut up
+for a while," said Bob. "And I guess this place hasn't been opened for
+two years, eh?"
+
+"Of course not; not since old Coventry died. Just the same, it's a
+mighty funny odor." And George sniffed again perplexedly. Laurie, who
+had withdrawn to the door, unconsciously placed a hand in one jacket
+pocket, where, within a crushed cardboard box, some fragments of glass
+were all that remained of Polly's present! In prying open the lid of the
+chest he had brought the end of the crowbar against that pocket, and now
+the purchase was only a memory, albeit a fragrant one.
+
+Some three minutes later four flushed-faced and very joyous youths burst
+into the Widow Deane's shop. To the jangling of the little bell in the
+back room Polly appeared, a very pretty, bright-eyed Polly this morning
+in a new Christmas dress.
+
+"Merry Christmas!" she cried. "Merry Christmas, Nid! Merry Christmas,
+Bob! Merry Christmas, George! Merry Christmas, Nod!"
+
+Perhaps Laurie should have felt hurt that his own greeting had come
+last; but he wasn't, for a glance went with it that hadn't accompanied
+the others. But, although the boys answered the greetings in chorus, it
+was apparent to Polly that they were there for another purpose than to
+wish her a Merry Christmas.
+
+"Where's your mother!" demanded Bob.
+
+"In there." Polly pointed to the back room, and without ceremony the
+four filed past and into the little living-room. Mrs. Deane was seated
+in a rocker, her spectacles pushed down on her nose, a paper across her
+knees, and her eyes fixed in smiling inquiry on the doorway.
+
+Bob led the way. On the outspread paper he laid a brown envelop. "Wish
+you a Merry Christmas, ma'am," he said.
+
+Laurie followed, deposited his envelop beside Bob's, repeated the
+greeting, and drew aside to make way for Nod and George. The Widow
+looked inquiringly from the stout envelops to the boys, smiling
+tolerantly the while. Boys were always up to pranks, and she liked them,
+boys and pranks both!
+
+"What are these?" she asked, finally, when the fourth envelop lay in her
+lap.
+
+Polly, looking over her shoulder, gasped as she read the writing on one
+of the packets, and her eyes, as round as round, looked across at
+Laurie.
+
+"_Nod! They aren't--You haven't--_"
+
+"Yes, they are!" cried Laurie. "Look and see for yourself! Open them,
+Mrs. Deane!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ten minutes later, when the first excitement had somewhat subsided,
+Polly clapped her hands.
+
+"Why," she cried, "now we know what those sounds were we used to hear,
+Mama! They were Uncle Peter down there in the cellar! They were his
+footsteps! And only a little while ago I thought I heard sounds sort of
+like them! And that must have been you boys!"
+
+"Of course," agreed Bob. "And we could hear you folks up here quite
+plainly. There goes my last hope of catching a ghost!"
+
+"How many are there to share in the money, Mrs. Deane?" asked George.
+
+"Dear me, I'm not quite sure." She looked inquiringly over her
+spectacles at Polly. "Weren't there seven, dear?"
+
+"Eight, Mama."
+
+"Well, even then it isn't so bad" said George. "One eighth of
+sixty-two-thousand--"
+
+"Seven thousand seven hundred and fifty," announced Laurie, promptly.
+"And the bonds may be worth more than we figured, ma'am!"
+
+"Well, I'm sure," answered Mrs. Deane, "seven thousand dollars is seven
+times more money than I ever expected to see! I shan't know what to do
+with it." She looked quite alarmed and helpless for a moment, but Polly
+patted her shoulder reassuringly.
+
+"You must invest it, dearest, and then you won't have to keep this place
+any longer, because when I go to work--"
+
+But, instead of vanishing, the Widow Deane's alarm increased. "Oh, I
+couldn't give up the store, Polly!" she gasped. "Why--why, what would I
+do with myself all day?"
+
+"Yes'm that's so!" declared Ned, heartily. "Gee, you couldn't do that!
+Why, we wouldn't have any place to buy cream-puffs!"
+
+"I guess I would keep on with the store," Mrs. Deane concluded, when the
+laughter had subsided. "I'm afraid I'd never be very happy if I didn't
+have you boys around. Well, it's certainly very wonderful, isn't it,
+Polly?"
+
+"It's--it's heavenly!" declared Polly. "This is just the most beautiful
+Christmas there ever was or ever will be! And I don't see how we can
+ever thank you all for finding--"
+
+"Gosh!" exclaimed Laurie. "The Doctor's tree, fellows! We'll have to
+beat it! We'll leave the bonds here until to-morrow--eh?"
+
+"But I want to see the tunnel and--and everything!" cried Polly.
+
+"That's so! We'll come over after dinner. Come on, fellows! Neddie, come
+away from those tarts!"
+
+"I was only looking," sighed Ned.
+
+Mrs. Deane and Polly went with them to the door. Down the street the
+deep-toned bell in the Congregational church was ringing, and, farther
+away, other bells were joining in a chorus of glad triumph. Mrs. Deane,
+listening, held a very happy look in her face. On the sidewalk, Ned and
+Laurie dropped behind their companions, paused, and faced the doorway.
+There was a quick exchange of glances between them, and then, bowing,
+Ned began and Laurie finished:
+
+    "A Merry Christmas and well-filled bins,"
+    "Is the hearty wish of the Turner Twins!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour
+
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