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diff --git a/37209-h/37209-h.htm b/37209-h/37209-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d766176 --- /dev/null +++ b/37209-h/37209-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11755 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" > +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> + <meta content="The Turner Twins" name="DC.Title"/> + <meta content="Ralph Henry Barbour" name="DC.Creator"/> + <meta content="en" name="DC.Language"/> + <meta content="1922" name="DC.Created"/> + <meta name="generator" content="ppgen (1.19) generated Aug 24, 2011 09:41 AM" /> + <title>The Turner Twins</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; + font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + h2 {text-align:left; font-weight:normal; + font-size:1.2em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; + font-size:0.9em; margin-top:1.5em; margin-bottom:1em;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:center;} + .larger {font-size:larger;} + .smaller {font-size:smaller;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + table.c {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps} + div.center>:first-child {margin: .5em auto 0 auto;text-align:center;} + div.center p {margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;} + hr.tb {border:none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; margin: 20px auto; width:35%} + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +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 + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i001' id='i001'></a> +<img src='images/illus-cvr.jpg' alt='' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div><a name='illus1' id='illus1'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i002' id='i002'></a> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt="Through the secret door" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>Through the secret door</span> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:1.6em;font-weight:bold;'>THE</span></p> +<p><span style='font-size:1.6em;font-weight:bold;'>TURNER TWINS</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p>BY</p> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>RALPH HENRY BARBOUR</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>Author of “<span class='sc'>The Crimson Sweater</span>,” “<span class='sc'>Harry’s Island</span>,”</span></p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>“<span class='sc'>Team-Mates</span>,” etc.</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>ILLUSTRATED BY</span></p> +<p>C. M. RELYEA</p> +<p> </p> +<p>NEW YORK</p> +<p>THE CENTURY CO.</p> +<p>1922</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span class='sc'>Copyright</span>, 1921, 1922, by</p> +<p>The Century Co.</p> +<p> </p> +<p><span class='sc'>PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.</span></p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>CONTENTS</span></p> +</div> +<table class='c' summary='table of contents'> +<tr><td style='font-size:smaller'>CHAPTER</td><td></td><td style='font-size:smaller'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>I</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Introduces a Pair of Shoes</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chI'>3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>II</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Girl in the White Middy</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chII'>13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>III</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Cakes and Ale</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIII'>28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Kewpie Starts Something</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIV'>37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>V</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>In the Performance of Duty</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chV'>52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Ned is Firm</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVI'>61</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>High School Accepts Defeat</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVII'>70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>In the Miser’s House</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVIII'>84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IX</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Laurie Hears News</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIX'>98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>X</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Polly Entertains</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chX'>110</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Ned Speaks Out</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXI'>120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Committee on Arrangements</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXII'>130</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Ned Gets into the Game</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIII'>141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Fete</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIV'>154</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Ned Has an Idea</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXV'>170</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Polly Tells a Spook Story</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVI'>179</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Laurie Makes a Protest</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVII'>190</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Before the Battle</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVIII'>201</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIX</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Ned is Missing</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIX'>213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XX</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>For the Honor of the Turners</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXX'>223</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Understudy</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXI'>238</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Boys Make a Present</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXII'>250</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Secret Passage</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXIII'>262</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXIV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Merry Christmas</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXIV'>272</a></td></tr> +</table> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</span></p> +</div> +<table class='c' summary='loi'> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>Through the secret door</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus1'>Frontispiece</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>“Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!”</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus2'>36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>“But don’t you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?” asked Polly</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus3'>136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>“Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.”</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus4'>240</a></td></tr> +</table> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<h1>THE TURNER TWINS</h1> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3'></a>3</span><a name='chI' id='chI'></a>CHAPTER I—INTRODUCES A PAIR OF HEROES</h2> +<p> +“Jail,” said the boy in the gray flannels. +</p> +<p> +“School,” pronounced the boy in the blue +serge. +</p> +<p> +“Bet you!” +</p> +<p> +“No, sir, you owe me ten cents now. You +didn’t pay up the last time.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s wrong to bet for money, Ned.” +</p> +<p> +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—” +</p> +<p> +“That debt’s outlawed. Chicago’s in Michigan—” +</p> +<p> +“Bet you!” +</p> +<p> +“And this is New York, and so—” +</p> +<p> +“Mighty good thing Dad sent you to school, +Laurie. Chicago’s in Illinois, you ignoramus.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4'></a>4</span> +</p> +<p> +“If that’s a jail, I’ll eat my hat,” declared +the other, +</p> +<p> +“It’s not a school, though, and that’s flat,” +was the prompt retort. +</p> +<p> +“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 <em>ding—dang—dong</em> 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. +</p> +<p> +“How far did that hombre say it was to the +school?” asked Ned Turner, after a minute of +silence. +</p> +<p> +“Three quarters of a mile.” +</p> +<p> +“How far have we walked already?” +</p> +<p> +“Mile and a half.” +</p> +<p> +“Consequently?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span> +</p> +<p> +“Said hombre was a li—was unvoracious.” +</p> +<p> +“Un-<em>ver</em>-acious is the word, old son.” +</p> +<p> +“What do we care? We don’t own it,” replied +Laurie, cheerfully. “Want to go on?” +</p> +<p> +Ned shook his head slowly. “What time have +you got?” he asked. +</p> +<p> +“What time do you want?” was the flippant response. +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“I know, but I couldn’t sit on this wall all that +time! Besides, what about lunch?” +</p> +<p> +“I’m not very hungry,” was the sad reply. +</p> +<p> +“That’s the trouble with having your breakfast +late.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Upon a wall they sat them down,” murmured +Ned, turning a challenging look on his +companion. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span> +</p> +<p> +“Lost in the wilds of Orstead Town,” added +Laurie. +</p> +<p> +Ned nodded mild approval and once more +silence held. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Maybe,” hazarded Laurie, presently, “we’ve +lost our way.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose so.” Laurie’s glance strayed right +and left. “Must be; I don’t see any walnuts.” +</p> +<p> +“Guess the only ‘nuts’ are right here. Come +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“’Cause we needed the exercise. Also, ’cause +we’re down to a dollar and fourteen cents between +us—unless you ’re holding out.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’m not!” replied Ned, indignantly. +“I paid for the breakfasts in New York—” +</p> +<p> +“And I paid for dinner on the diner last +night—” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Leave it! Yes, we can! On a dollar and +fourteen cents?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Speak for yourself. I am. I like this town, +too. It’s pretty.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s just a girl.” +</p> +<p> +“What of it? She probably knows.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Would you please tell us where Hillman’s +School is?” he asked. +</p> +<p> +The girl stopped and her somewhat serious +face lighted with a smile. “It’s right there,” +she replied, and nodded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span> +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +Ned acknowledged it, adding, “Think we’ll like +it?” +</p> +<p> +The girl seemed genuinely surprised. “Why, +of course! Every one likes it. What a perfectly +funny idea!” +</p> +<p> +“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.’” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span> +</p> +<p> +The girl laughed again. (She had a jolly sort +of laugh, they decided.) “You’re—you’re twins, +aren’t you?” she asked. +</p> +<p> +“He is,” replied Ned, gravely. +</p> +<p> +“Why—why, aren’t you both?” Her brown +eyes grew very round and the little lines creased +her nose again. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +The girl shook her head slowly in puzzlement. +“I—I’m afraid I don’t,” she answered apologetically. +“You <em>must</em> 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. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose you know a lot of the fellows,” he +said. +</p> +<p> +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 +<em>know</em> them.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course not,” approved Ned. “She’s dead +right, too. They’re a pretty poor lot, I guess.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span> +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +She nodded and went on. +</p> +<p> +“Thanks,” called Laurie. “If we don’t like it, +we’ll change it. Good-by.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“If she does, she won’t see me,” responded his +brother, firmly. “No dancing for mine.” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe it’s compulsory.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“‘Entrance Only’! Sounds as if we couldn’t +ever get out again, Ned! Do you dare?” +</p> +<p> +Ned looked doubtfully through at the curving +drive and the red-brick building that showed beyond +the border of trees and shrubbery. Then +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +he threw back his shoulders and set foot bravely +within. +</p> +<p> +“Come, comrade, let us know the worst!” +</p> +<p> +Laurie, with a gesture of resignation, followed. +</p> +<p> +“What you durst I will likewise durst!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span><a name='chII' id='chII'></a>CHAPTER II—THE GIRL IN THE WHITE MIDDY</h2> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Two more of the boys are coming, John,” she +announced. +</p> +<p> +The doctor grunted. +</p> +<p> +“I think they are new boys. Yes, I am sure +they are. And bless my soul, John, they’re alike +as two peas!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, they certainly <em>are</em> 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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +</p> +<p> +“Of course; but—still—California’s such a +long way—and they may feel strange—or lonesome—” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“These are the Turner boys,” announced Miss +Tabitha. “This is Edward and this is—” She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span> +halted to look doubtfully from one to the other. +“Or—or perhaps <em>this</em> is Edward and—Dear +me!” +</p> +<p> +“I’m Edward, ma’am,” said the boy in blue. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I don’t see how you can ever be <em>certain</em> +of it!” sighed Miss Tabitha, doubtfully. “This +is Doctor Hillman.” +</p> +<p> +They shook hands, and in a moment the boys +found themselves seated side by side and replying +to the doctor’s questions. +</p> +<p> +“You are entering with certificates from your +high school principal, I believe, young gentlemen. +What year were you?” +</p> +<p> +“Second, sir,” answered Ned. +</p> +<p> +“And your home is in—” +</p> +<p> +“Santa Lucia, sir,” replied Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“California,” added Ned. +</p> +<p> +“Well, you’re quite a ways from home. Did +you make the trip alone?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +Miss Tabitha looked doubtful and hesitated an +instant before she replied, “George Watson +comes from Wyoming, I think, John.” +</p> +<p> +“So he does,” assented the doctor, gravely; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +“but measured in a straight line, my dear, California +is slightly farther than Wyoming.” +</p> +<p> +“Is it?” asked Miss Tabitha, untroubled. “I +never could remember where those western States +are.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“No, sir,” answered Ned, more than a trace of +surprise in his voice. “I mean, we are twins, +sir.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, now that’s interesting! Looking +closer—” the doctor leaned forward and craned +his head—“I believe I detect a certain slight +similarity myself!” +</p> +<p> +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 <em>might</em>!” +</p> +<p> +“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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +Miss Tabitha acknowledged the compliment +with a little wry smile, and Ned and Laurie arose. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, sir,” said the former. +</p> +<p> +“Thank you, sir,” said Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“That must be the athletic field,” said Laurie. +“See the stand there? And the goal-posts? +How do you like it?” +</p> +<p> +“The field? Looks all right from here.” +</p> +<p> +“I mean the whole outfit, you simp; the school +and Doctor Hillman and Miss Frosty-Face and +everything.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Half an hour ago you had a hunch you weren’t +going to like it,” jeered Laurie. “Changed your +mind, haven’t you?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +Ned studied the room a moment. “No, you +don’t,” he challenged. “I’ll take this side. +I’m the oldest.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +“There isn’t any difference, you chump. One +side’s as good as the other.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Guess they knew you were naturally lazy and +needed the exercise.” +</p> +<p> +Laurie dodged a pair of traveling slippers in +a red-leather case and disappeared into the +corridor. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Guess they’ve never seen twins before in this +part of the world,” grumbled Laurie. “Those +chaps nearly popped their eyes out!” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +have milk or iced tea. Ned, as usual, answered +for both. +</p> +<p> +“Iced tea, please, and lots of lemon.” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“What’s the Waldorf?” asked Ned. “Don’t +you get lemon with iced tea here?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure! but you don’t get much. Say, are you +fellows—twins, or what?” +</p> +<p> +“Twins?” repeated Laurie. “Where do you +get that stuff? This fellow’s name is Anderson +and mine’s Stenman. What’s yours?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +Ned gazed speculatively at Laurie and Laurie +gazed speculatively at Ned. “We might be,” +hazarded the latter. +</p> +<p> +Laurie nodded. “If we went back far enough, +we might find a common ancestor.” +</p> +<p> +The arrival of luncheon caused a diversion, although +Crow, who was a round-faced, credulous-looking +youth of perhaps seventeen, continued to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“California,” said Ned. +</p> +<p> +“Santa Lucia,” said Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“Well, but,” sputtered Crow, “isn’t California +in Santa—I mean, isn’t Santa—Say, you guys +are joking, I’ll bet!” +</p> +<p> +“Methinks,” observed Ned, helping himself +gravely to mustard, “his words sound coarse and +vulgar.” +</p> +<p> +Laurie abstractedly added a fourth teaspoon of +sugar to his iced tea. “Like Turk or Kurd or +even Bulgar,” he murmured. +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +The boy grew very red of face and gave way +to giggles. “I knew all the time you were +twins,” he gasped. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span> +</p> +<p> +“Sort of sensitive,” aided Ned. “We’d rather +it wasn’t generally known. You understand, +don’t you?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Hot!” grunted Ned, running a finger around +the inside of his collar. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and if we had a cake of ice we could sit +on it!” responded Ned, sarcastically. “This +place is hotter than Santa Lucia.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“I’m not going back yet,” said Laurie, firmly. +“Let’s find a place where we can get something +cool to drink.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span> +of which was plainly devoted to commercial +purposes. +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p>L. S. DEANE</p> +<p>BOOKS, TOYS, AND</p> +<p>CONFECTIONERY</p> +<p>CIRCULATING LIBRARY</p> +<p>LAUNDRY AGENCY</p> +<p>TONICS</p> +</div> +<p> +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— +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Have you anything cold to drink?” asked +Ned, leaning across the show-case. +</p> +<p> +“Ginger-ale or tonic or something?” Laurie +elaborated. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, indeed,” replied the apparition, in a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +strangely familiar voice. “If you will step over +to the other side, please—” +</p> +<p> +Ned and Laurie leaned farther across the show-case. +</p> +<p> +It was the girl in the white middy dress. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span><a name='chIII' id='chIII'></a>CHAPTER III—CAKES AND ALE</h2> +<p> +“Hello!” exclaimed the twins, in one voice. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“What do you want?” asked the girl in the +middy. +</p> +<p> +“Ginger-ale,” answered Ned. “Say, do you +live here?” +</p> +<p> +“No, this is the shop,” was the reply. “I live +upstairs.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, well, you know what I mean,” muttered +Ned. “Is this your store?” +</p> +<p> +“It’s my mother’s. I help in it afternoons. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span> +My mother is Mrs. Deane. The boys call her the +Widow. I’m Polly Deane.” +</p> +<p> +“Pleased to know you,” said Laurie. “Our +name’s Turner. I’m Laurie and he’s Ned. +Let me open that for you.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“You bet! We’re crazy about it.” +</p> +<p> +“Are you sure? It’s no trouble to—Well, +<em>this</em> is ginger-ale, anyway. I’m awfully sorry!” +</p> +<p> +“What do we care?” asked Ned. “We don’t +own it.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t own it?” repeated Polly, in a puzzled +tone. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course <em>you</em> don’t use slang?” asked Polly, +demurely. “Who wants the root-beer?” +</p> +<p> +“You take it,” said Laurie, hurriedly. +</p> +<p> +“No, you,” said Ned. “You’re fonder of it +than I am, Laurie. I don’t mind, really!” +</p> +<p> +Laurie managed a surreptitious kick on his +brother’s shin. “Tell you what,” he exclaimed, +“we’ll mix ’em!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span> +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Corking!” they breathed in unison. +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“No, you mustn’t,” protested Ned. “It’s our +invention. We’ll call it—call it—” +</p> +<p> +“Call it an Accident,” suggested Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“We’ll call it a Polly,” continued the other. +“It really is bully. It’s—it’s different; isn’t +it, Laurie? Have another?” +</p> +<p> +“Who were those on?” was the suspicious +reply. +</p> +<p> +“You. The next is on me. Only maybe another +wouldn’t taste so good, eh?” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you fool yourself! I’ll risk that.” +</p> +<p> +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—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +</p> +<p> +“Miss what?” interrupted Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“As Laurie’s head?” offered Ned, helpfully. +“Say, you sell ’most everything here, don’t you? +Are those cream-puffs?” +</p> +<p> +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—” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Personally,” observed Laurie, jingling some +coins in a trousers pocket, “I prefer to pay cash. +Still, there are times—” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span> +</p> +<p> +“Yes, the cream-cakes, and some of the others. +The rest Miss Comfort makes.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s another funny name,” said Laurie. +“Who is Miss Comfort?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Six cents apiece,” said Polly. “Do you want +them in a bag?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Edward Anderson Turner and—” +</p> +<p> +“I meant just your first names.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Edward and Laurence. You can charge +us each with two bottles and one cake.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +</p> +<p> +“I like that!” scoffed Laurie. “Thought you +were treating to cakes?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“You’re the funniest boys I ever did see,” she +explained, in answer to their inquiring looks. +“You—you say such funny things!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Good afternoon,” returned the twins. +</p> +<p> +“Mama, these are the Turner boys,” said Polly. +“One of them is Ned and the other is Laurie, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +I don’t know which, because they look just exactly +alike. They—they’re twins!” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Gee, do you have ice-cream?” asked Ned; +eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“I want to know!” exclaimed the Widow Deane +interestedly. “Why, it’s very fortunate for him +he has you, isn’t it?” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“Good afternoon,” he said, “We’ll come +again,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span> +</p> +<p> +“We know not how,” added Ned, “we know +not when.” +</p> +<p> +“Bless my soul!” murmured the Widow, as the +screen door swung behind them. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“See who’s with us!” came from a second-floor +casement above the entrance; “the two Dromios!” +</p> +<p> +“Tweedledum and Tweedledee!” +</p> +<p> +“The Siamese Twins, I’ll bet a cooky!” +</p> +<p> +“Hi, East Hall! Heads out!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“What do we care? We don’t own ’em. Let +them have their fun, Neddie.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well, maybe we are. How do you know? +Suppose those trunks have come?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Hello, fellows!” greeted the apparition. +“Salutations and everything!” +</p> +<div><a name='illus2' id='illus2'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i003' id='i003'></a> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt="“Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!”" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>“Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!”</span> +</div> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span><a name='chIV' id='chIV'></a>CHAPTER IV—KEWPIE STARTS SOMETHING</h2> +<p> +The twins stared silently and suspiciously for +an instant. Then Ned made cautious response. +</p> +<p> +“Hello,” he said, with what must have seemed +to the visitor a lamentable lack of cordiality. +</p> +<p> +The latter pushed the door shut behind him by +the kick of one stockinged foot, and grinned jovially. +“My name’s Proudtree,” he announced. +</p> +<p> +“You can’t blame us,” replied Laurie, coldly. +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“That’s fine,” said Ned, with more than a +trace of sarcasm. “What about?” +</p> +<p> +“Why,” answered Proudtree, easing his generous +bulk into a chair, “he said you fellows were +twins.” +</p> +<p> +“Not only were,” said Laurie, gently, “but +are. Don’t mind, do you?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, come off your horse,” begged the visitor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Thought you said you came to extend the +hand of friendship,” retorted Ned, sarcastically. +“Well, have a good look, partner. There’s no +charge!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“I’ve got it,” he said. +</p> +<p> +“Got what?” Laurie asked. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, if you’re quite through,” snapped Ned, +“maybe you’ll call it a day. We’ve got things +to do.” +</p> +<p> +“Meaning you’d like me to beat it?” asked +the visitor, good-temperedly. +</p> +<p> +“Just that!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, come, Ned,” Laurie protested, soothingly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +“he’s all right. I dare say we are sort of freakish +and—” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +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!’” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t think it’s bad as it is,” said Laurie, +kindly. “You don’t look really <em>fat</em>; you just +look sort of—of—” +</p> +<p> +“Amplitudinous,” supplied Ned, with evident +satisfaction. +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“What for?” Laurie asked. “Why destroy +your symmetry?” +</p> +<p> +“Football. I’m trying for center. I nearly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Who’s Mulford?” inquired Ned. “A fortune-teller?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t let any one tell you anything different,” +replied Laurie, reassuringly. Ned, evidently +recovered from his peevishness, asked: +</p> +<p> +“What sort of football do they play here?” +</p> +<p> +“Corking!” answered Proudtree. +</p> +<p> +“I mean, Rugby or the other?” +</p> +<p> +“Rugby!” exclaimed Proudtree, scornfully. +“I guess not! We play regular football. Nobody +plays Rugby around these parts. Are you +fellows going out?” +</p> +<p> +“Not just yet,” replied Ned. +</p> +<p> +“He means are we going to try for the football +team,” explained Laurie. “Yes, we are, +Proudtree; at least, one of us is.” +</p> +<p> +“You?” +</p> +<p> +“We haven’t decided yet. You see, we’ve +never played your kind of football. Back home, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +Proudtree looked puzzled. “How are you +going to decide?” he asked. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s the limit!” chuckled the visitor. +“Say, what are your names? I didn’t see any +cards on the door.” +</p> +<p> +“Turner. His is Laurie and mine’s Ned,” +answered the latter. “Do we put our names on +the door?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Lower middle, I reckon,” said Ned. “That’s +what we expect.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span> +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, he only meant to be friendly, I reckon,” +said Laurie. “You understand.” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“It <em>was</em> 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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Might as well, and have it over with. I’d +like to know whether we’re going to make the +lower middle.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t see what else we can make. They can’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“Those aren’t wrinkles; they’re just creases. +Come on!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe that’s it,” agreed Laurie, gravely. +“Shall we go back and tell him he’s wrong?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span> +much too young and innocent to face the world +alone. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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 <em>got</em> to get more fellows out.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Bound to be. Did you see the twins?” +</p> +<p> +“No, but Billy Emerson was telling me about +them. What do they look like?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Think they’re football stuff?” +</p> +<p> +“Search me. Might be. They’re light, though. +Here comes Kewpie. Gosh, he’s fatter than +ever! Hi, Kewpie! Come over here!” +</p> +<p> +It was Proudtree who answered the hail, descended +the steps, and approached. “Hello, Joe! +Hello, Frank! Well, here we are again, eh? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +Great to be back, isn’t it? Have a good summer, +Joe?” +</p> +<p> +“Fine! You?” +</p> +<p> +“Corking! I was on Dad’s yacht all through +August. Saw the races and everything. Bully +eats, too. You understand.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Which one?” asked Joe, surreptitiously eying +the twins. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“All right, Kewpie.” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Ned’s the football chap,” said Laurie. +“Baseball’s my line.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +Kewpie darted an “I-told-you-so” glance at +Joe and Frank. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +</p> +<p> +“Where do you come from, Turner?” Joe +asked politely. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose so,” said Frank Brattle. “What’s +your position, Turner?” +</p> +<p> +“Position?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes; I mean, where did you play? Behind the +line, I suppose, or maybe end.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, yes, behind the line. You see, I—I—” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“Shut up!” begged Ned, almost tearfully. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“I think not, thanks,” answered Laurie. “One +football star is enough in the family.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +The two older boys made off toward West Hall, +and as soon as they were out of hearing Ned +turned indignantly on Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes; that’s so—you started it!” Ned turned +belligerently around. “Said it would be a favor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“He won’t. I’ve watched football practice +back home. You’ll stand around in a circle—” +</p> +<p> +“How the dickens can I stand in a circle?” objected +Ned. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +After a moment of indecision Ned arose and +followed silently. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span><a name='chV' id='chV'></a>CHAPTER V—IN THE PERFORMANCE OF DUTY</h2> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind the comedy. You’ll be helping +yourself to these things soon enough, and then +you won’t be so funny.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +</p> +<p> +“That’s the only way they’ll ever get used up! +Why, you’ve got enough truck there to last three +years!” +</p> +<p> +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 “<em>Hep!</em>” was heard, and the throng +broke into a measured refrain: +</p> +<p> +“<em>Hep!—Hep!—Hep!—Hep!</em>” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“<em>Hep!—Hep!</em>” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Day boy,” was the explanation. “There are +ten of them, you know: fellows who live in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +town. We always give them a welcome. That +chap had spunk, but you wait and see some of +them!” +</p> +<p> +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 “<em>Heps!</em>” Some +looked only surprised, others angry; but most of +then grinned in a sickly, embarrassed way and +went by with hanging heads. +</p> +<p> +“Sort of tough,” was Ned’s verdict, and Laurie +agreed as they followed the last victim inside. +</p> +<p> +“It looks as if day students weren’t popular,” +he added. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span> +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<p> +“And,” he went on, “I want this team made +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Hello, Turner,” Frank greeted. “How did +it go?” +</p> +<p> +“All right,” replied Ned, with elaborate carelessness. +“Fine.” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span> +it is to get out of the hang of things during the +summer. I’m as stiff as a broom!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“They say the first two months are the hardest,” +responded Laurie, comfortingly. “After +that there’s no sensation.” +</p> +<p> +Ned nodded. “I believe it,” he said feelingly. +He fixed his gaze on the farther goal-post and +after a minute of silence remarked: +</p> +<p> +“I’d like to catch the man who invented football!” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“Rotten!” said Ned. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span> +</p> +<p> +“I’d like to see you do any better,” answered +Laurie, aggrievedly. “There isn’t any proper +rhyme for ‘football,’ anyway.” +</p> +<p> +“Nor any reason for it, either. Of all—” +</p> +<p> +“Hi, you fellow!” interrupted a scandalized +voice. “What are you doing up there? Have +you done your two laps?” +</p> +<p> +The speaker was a lanky, red-haired man who +bristled with authority and outrage. +</p> +<p> +“Two laps?” stammered Ned. “No, sir.” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“Gee,” murmured Ned, “I thought I was done! +Two laps, he said! I’ll never be able to, Laurie!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span><a name='chVI' id='chVI'></a>CHAPTER VI—NED IS FIRM</h2> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“With me?” Kewpie stared in amazement. +“What have I done?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure! What of it?” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +I’m a wonder, and I don’t know a touch-down +from a—a forward kick!” +</p> +<p> +“Pass, not kick,” corrected Kewpie, patiently. +“Look here, Turner— Say, are you Ned or +Laurie? Blessed if I can tell!” +</p> +<p> +“Ned,” replied that youth, with much dignity. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, what <em>did</em> you tell him?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, I sort of—well, it wasn’t what I <em>said</em> +exactly; it was what he thought I meant!” +</p> +<p> +“Proudtree, you’re telling a whopper,” said +Ned, sternly. “And you told one to Stevenson, +too, or I miss my guess.” +</p> +<p> +“I only said that you were a swell football-player.” +</p> +<p> +“For the love of lemons! What do you call +that but a whopper?” +</p> +<p> +Kewpie looked both ashamed and distressed. +He swallowed hard and glanced furtively at +Laurie as though hoping for aid. But Laurie +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“I think you ought to,” responded Ned. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“How?” asked Ned. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Proudtree—” +</p> +<p> +“There’s an awful lot of that ‘Proudtree’ +stuff,” complained the visitor. “Would you mind +calling me Kewpie?” +</p> +<p> +“All right. Well, Kewpie told Captain Stevenson that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +you are a swell player. Go ahead and +be one.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“You can’t fake kicking a football,” said Ned, +scathingly. +</p> +<p> +“Look here!” exclaimed Kewpie, his round +face illumined by a great idea. “Tell you what, +Ned! I’ll show you how to kick!” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Wouldn’t Stevenson know what was up?” +asked Ned, dubiously. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +</p> +<p> +“He must have a strange idea of fun,” sighed +Ned. “Still, if you want to take the trouble—” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Well, even four times a week will show results,” +said Kewpie, cheerfully. “This is Thursday. +We’ll have the first lesson Saturday at +ten.” +</p> +<p> +“I hope they don’t ask me to do any kicking +before then,” said Ned. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Johnny’s?” repeated Laurie. “Oh, Doctor +Hillman’s! I suppose so. What’s it like?” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Awful!” laughed Ned. “You going over +now?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Didn’t know they did,” replied Ned, uninterestedly. +“Who told you that?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, there was a notice on the board in School +Hall. Don’t believe many fellows go out in the +fall.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“I dare say. Crazy scheme, though, playing +games out of season.” +</p> +<p> +“Ye-es.” Ned went on thoughtfully a moment +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span> +Then he shot a suspicious glance at his brother. +“You going out?” he demanded. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Aw, Ned, have a heart! There’s plenty of +time—” +</p> +<p> +“No, sir, by jiminy! You got me slaving for +the dear old school, now you do your bit!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, but it isn’t fair to start the baseball season +in September. You know it isn’t.” +</p> +<p> +“Cut out the alibis! You can get some baseball +togs right now. Good thing you spoke of it. +What’ll you need?” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“You’re going to do as you agreed to,” answered +Ned, grimly. “Remember that the honor +of the Turners is at stake!” +</p> +<p> +Laurie sighed deeply. Then, “You speak of +honor! Say no more. I yield,” he declaimed +dramatically. +</p> +<p> +“You bet you do,” answered Ned, unhesitatingly. +“You for the baseball field!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span><a name='chVII' id='chVII'></a>CHAPTER VII—HIGH SCHOOL ACCEPTS DEFEAT</h2> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +</p> +<p> +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 <em>form</em>, 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.” +</p> +<p> +“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!’” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“I know,” said Ned, humbly. “I mean to do +the way you say, but I sort of forget.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span> +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Next year!” exclaimed Ned, dubiously. +“Gee! mean to tell me I’m going through all this +work for next year?” +</p> +<p> +“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 <em>speed</em> 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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“I’d like to see you make good, though,” said +Kewpie. “Besides, remember the honor of the +Turners!” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“You make me weary!” grunted Kewpie. +“Say, don’t you California chaps ever have any +pep?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“Ned? Why, he isn’t in! He’s on the bench +down there.” +</p> +<p> +“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 <em>work</em> 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.” +</p> +<p> +“You’re crazy,” laughed Laurie. +</p> +<p> +During the intermission, Laurie’s wandering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +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! +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +Ned returned to Number 16 half an hour later +in a most critical frame of mind, and spent ten +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Mulford? Why—oh, go to the dickens!” +</p> +<p> +“Seems to me he ought to know,” said Laurie, +gravely. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“I beg your pardon! Did you say anything +about understanding football?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure, but I’ll bet you don’t know how much +a safety counts!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“In how many punts?” inquired Laurie, innocently. +</p> +<p> +Ned threw a book at him and the subject was +closed. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +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! +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Ginger-ale always makes me hungry,” he +explained calmly. +</p> +<p> +Two days later, the twins awoke to cloudy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +army. There was still ice-cream, though, +and the three squeezed into a corner and became +absorbedly silent for a space. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“I do hope you’re looking after him and that +he hasn’t eaten those raspberry tarts yet,” she +said pleasantly. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +though poured from a million buckets, their +thought was of immediate shelter. +</p> +<p> +“Wow!” yelped Lee. “Let’s get out of this! +Here’s a house. Come on!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Wonder who lives here,” he said. “I don’t +remember this house.” +</p> +<p> +“Sure you do!” said George. “This is the +Coventry house. We’re on the side porch.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“You said for two days,” answered Laurie, +cheerfully, trying to dry his neck with a moist +handkerchief. +</p> +<p> +“I mean this shower, you chump!” +</p> +<p> +“Call this a shower? What’s a cloud-burst +like in this part of the country, then?” +</p> +<p> +“We don’t have such things,” answered +George, who was peering through a side-light +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +into the dim interior. “Say, I thought this place +was empty,” he continued. “I can see chairs +and a table in there.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Why?” inquired Laurie. +</p> +<p> +But, before any answer came, the door was +suddenly opened within a few inches of George’s +nose and a voice said: +</p> +<p> +“You fellows had better come inside until it’s +over.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span><a name='chVIII' id='chVIII'></a>CHAPTER VIII—IN THE MISER’S HOUSE</h2> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“We oughtn’t to come in here,” Lee apologized. +“We’re soaking wet, Starling.” +</p> +<p> +“It doesn’t matter,” answered their host. +“Wait till I find a match and we’ll have a fire +here.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t bother, please,” George protested. +“We’re going right on in a minute.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Rather,” agreed Lee. “By the way, do you +know Turner? And Watson?” The three boys +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span> +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?” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“No, thanks. I guess the wet didn’t get +through. I’ve seen you over at school, haven’t +I?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I’m a day boy; one of the ‘Hep, heps!’” +</p> +<p> +Lee grinned. “Sort of a mean trick, that, +Starling, but they always do it every year.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +</p> +<p> +“That would have been an awful fate,” said +George, gravely. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I wouldn’t have minded. I like Hillman’s, +though. Do any of you chaps play tennis?” +</p> +<p> +“I try to,” answered George. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Glad to,” George assured him. “Any day +you like, Starling. I’m not much of a player, +though, so don’t expect a lot.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Suits me,” answered George. “Three-thirty?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“What could he do with three of them?” asked +Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose we’d have to get the owner’s permission +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +to even take that rickety old arbor down,” +Starling said. +</p> +<p> +“I thought the owner was dead,” Lee observed. +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“What was he, a miser?” asked Starling. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“And at night the old codger’s ghost walks +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +around,” added Lee; “and if you follow him, +he’ll take you to the place the money’s hidden.” +</p> +<p> +“Honest?” exclaimed Starling, joyfully. +“Gosh, that’s great! I always wanted to live +in a house with a ghost.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m sorry, then,” said George, “for I just +made that part up.” +</p> +<p> +“<em>You</em> did?” Lee looked incredulous. “Where +do you come in? I’ve heard that ever since I +came here.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Guess the old chap never had that much,” +said George. “Thirty or forty thousand is +about what he was supposed to have salted away.” +</p> +<p> +“Scarcely worth bothering about,” observed +Laurie, with a yawn. +</p> +<p> +“But look here, what became of the servant?” +asked Starling. “Maybe he got the dough and +made off with it.” +</p> +<p> +“Lots of folks thought that,” replied George; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Where did he go to?” asked Starling. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know. New York City, I think.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“You’ve been reading <em>Sherlock Holmes</em>,” +laughed Lee. “Why don’t you follow up your +clue, find the negro, and restore the lost wealth +to the starving heirs?” +</p> +<p> +“Huh! If he did get the money, he’s where +even <em>Sherlock Holmes</em> 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?” +</p> +<p> +“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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe I heard it,” replied George, grinning. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“She has the little store around on the back +street?” asked Starling. +</p> +<p> +“Yes. She took that as her share.” +</p> +<p> +“Her share of what?” demanded Lee. +</p> +<p> +“Why, of the estate. Old Coventry owned the +whole half-block right through from Walnut +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Look here,” said Lee, “do you mean that the +Widow Deane was one of old Coventry’s heirs?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Gee, you certainly know a lot of ancient +history!” marveled Lee. +</p> +<p> +“I believe in being thorough,” laughed George. +“When I tackle a subject I get a fall out of it.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Surest thing you know!” agreed George. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +</p> +<p> +“How many other heirs are there to share in +the money when Starling finds it?” asked Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, when I do find it,” laughed Starling, +“I’ll keep it quiet and hand it all over to the +Widow.” +</p> +<p> +“He wants to make a hit with Polly,” said Lee. +“He’s a fox.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ve never seen her,” Starling denied. +</p> +<p> +“Well, she’s a mighty pretty girl,” George +avowed. “If you don’t believe me, ask Nod.” +</p> +<p> +Laurie looked intensely innocent and very surprised. +“Why me?” he asked blandly. +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Well,” Laurie laughed, “I thought it was +Polly you spoke of.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span> +</p> +<p> +“Rather! It was positively sickening! Talk +about foxes—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dry up and blow away!” muttered Laurie. +“Say, the rain’s stopped now—pretty nearly.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Glad to have you drop around at my room +some time,” said Lee. “I’m in West; Number +7.” +</p> +<p> +“Same here,” added Laurie; “16 East Hall. +Thanks, Starling.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Not worth it, thanks,” answered Lee. “After +that deluge, this is just an April shower. So +long!” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span> +on the morrow, adding: “I’ll bet that chap’s a +corking good player, too.” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe you’ll learn a little about the game +from him,” said Laurie, sweetly. “How old do +you say he is?” +</p> +<p> +“Starling? Oh, seventeen, maybe. He’s in +upper middle.” +</p> +<p> +“Sixteen, more likely,” said George. “He +seems a decent sort, eh? How did you come to +know him?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +As they entered the gate George chuckled and +Laurie asked, “What’s your trouble, Old-Timer!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Why, wasn’t it true?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +Lee grunted. “After some smart Aleck has +written it up as an English comp. its own mother +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span> +wouldn’t know it! The real joke would be for +Starling to wreck the woodwork and find the +money!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Many places,” replied Laurie, cheerfully. +“Why the grouch?” +</p> +<p> +“You’d have a grouch, I reckon, if you’d +messed around with a soggy football for almost +two hours in a cloud-burst!” +</p> +<p> +“Did you—er—get wet?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I got sort of water-logged myself, and +don’t you let any one tell you any different! Wait +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +till I return this rain-coat and I’ll tell you about +it.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ve got troubles enough of my own,” +grumbled Ned, as Laurie crossed the corridor. +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<p> +“That’s a swell way to return a fellow’s coat!” +he accused. +</p> +<p> +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!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span> +</p> +<p> +Laurie looked and his shoulders heaved. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Kewpie!” he gurgled, contrition—or +something—quite overmastering him. “I’m +s-s-so s-s-sorry!” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span><a name='chIX' id='chIX'></a>CHAPTER IX—LAURIE HEARS NEWS</h2> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +Hop talked he talked of just one subject, and +that subject was football, and he introduced it +to-day. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s up to the quarter, isn’t it?” asked +Laurie, anxious to prove himself not absolutely +ignorant of the subject. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Meaning you’d have a better chance of swiping +his job?” smiled Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Is he? I haven’t seen much practice so far. +Baseball keeps me pretty busy.” +</p> +<p> +“How are you getting on?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span> +</p> +<p> +“Slow, I’m afraid. Anyway, you could easily +tell Babe Ruth and me apart!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“I guess I am,” laughed Laurie; “just about!” +</p> +<p> +“Well, Nid is surely coming fast,” replied Hop, +gravely. “He’s been doing some nice work the +last few days.” +</p> +<p> +Laurie stared. “Say, what are you doing, Hop? +Stringing me?” he demanded. +</p> +<p> +“Stringing you?” Hop looked puzzled. “Why, +no. How do you mean?” +</p> +<p> +“About Ned. Do you mean that he’s really +playing football?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, of course I do. Didn’t you know it?” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span> +the back field who can help Pope out in a pinch. +It’s his kicking ability that’ll get him on if anything +does.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +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: +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span> +</p> +<p> +“What will it be?” asked George. “Sod or +gravel?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“No, but I suppose you get a contractor; one +of those fellows who build roads and stone walls +and things.” +</p> +<p> +“I’d ask at the court-house,” said Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“At the court—oh, that’s a punk one!” jeered +Bob. “See you later, fellows!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +Ned watched that game from the substitutes’ +bench, just as he had watched the two preceding +contests, but a newly awakened <em>esprit de corps</em> +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. +</p> +<p> +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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Now,” said Ned, “I guess I’ll have a cream-cake. +Want one, Laurie?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“I’m real glad to see you’re still alive,” +she said to Ned. “I guess he must take very +good care of you.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes’m, I do,” Laurie assured her gravely. +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +Why, he wouldn’t get down in time for +breakfast if I didn’t put most of his clothes on.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Wait a bit, partner! Where’d you get that +shirt you’re wearing?” +</p> +<p> +“That’s different,” answered Laurie, with dignity. +“Mine are all in the wash. Besides, it’s +an old one and you never wear it.” +</p> +<p> +“I never get a chance to wear it!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +The twins liked that garden. It wasn’t very +large, for when the peculiar Mr. Coventry had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 <em>wouldn’t</em> 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. +</p> +<p> +“You’ve just let me go on and be perfectly ridiculous!” +she charged. “I don’t think it’s a +bit nice of you!” +</p> +<p> +“Why, what—how do you mean?” stammered +Ned. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe we didn’t tell you,” offered Laurie. +“Anyway, your flowers—” +</p> +<p> +“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 <em>awful</em> to you!” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Not so pretty,” answered the other, earnestly. +“Besides, <em>I</em> never saw a geranium hedge in my life. +Maybe they have them in some places, like Pasadena, +but there isn’t <em>one</em> in Santa Lucia, honest. +There isn’t, is there, Ned?” +</p> +<p> +“<em>I</em> 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—” +</p> +<p> +“Who wants a magnificent garden?” demanded +Laurie, scornfully. “What have you got in the +box, Polly?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span> +</p> +<p> +Comforted, Polly smiled again. “That’s Antoinette,” +she said. “Come and see.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Has she?” murmured Laurie. “I thought it +looked rather short.” +</p> +<p> +“A pedigree isn’t a <em>tail</em>, you idiot,” said Ned, +scathingly. “She’s awfully pretty, Polly. Will +she bite?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course not! At least, not unless you look +like a cabbage-leaf.” +</p> +<p> +“I wouldn’t take a chance,” Laurie advised. +“Any one who’s as green as you are—” +</p> +<p> +“She <em>tries</em> to eat ’most everything,” said Polly, +“but she likes cabbage and lettuce and carrots +best.” +</p> +<p> +“I wish I had a cabbage,” muttered Laurie, +searching his pockets; “or a carrot. You haven’t +a carrot with you, have you, Ned?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span><a name='chX' id='chX'></a>CHAPTER X—POLLY ENTERTAINS</h2> +<p> +“Make up a—what did you say?” asked Ned. +</p> +<p> +“Make up a verse,” answered Polly, placidly. +“As you did the other day when you went +out. Don’t you remember?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” Laurie looked somewhat embarrassed +and a trifle silly. “Why, you see—we only do +that when—when—” +</p> +<p> +“When we have inspiration,” aided Ned, glibly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, that’s it, inspiration! We—we have to +have inspiration.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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: +</p> +<p> +“O Antoinette, most lovely of thy kind!” he declaimed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +</p> +<p> +“Thou eatest cabbages and watermelon rind!” +finished Laurie, promptly. +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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 <em>sound</em>! ‘Kind’ and ‘carrot’ +wouldn’t sound <em>right</em>, don’t you see?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’m sure watermelon rind doesn’t +sound right, either,” objected Polly; “not for a +rabbit. Rabbits have very delicate digestions.” +</p> +<p> +“We might change it,” offered Ned. “How +would this do? +</p> +<p> + “O Antoinette, more lovely than a parrot,<br /> + Thou dost subsist on cabbages and carrot.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +“That’s silly,” said Polly, scornfully. +</p> +<p> +“Poetry usually is silly,” Ned answered. +</p> +<p> +Laurie, who had been gazing raptly at his +shoes, broke forth exultantly. “I’ve got it!” he +cried. “Listen! +</p> +<p> + “O Antoinette, most beauteous of rabbits,<br /> + Be mine and I will feed thee naught but cabbits!”<br /> +</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span></div> +<p> +A brief silence followed. Then Ned asked, +“What are cabbits?” +</p> +<p> +“Cabbits are vegetables,” replied Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“I never heard of them,” said Polly, wrinkling +her forehead. +</p> +<p> +“Neither did any one else,” laughed Ned. “He +just made them up to rhyme with rabbits.” +</p> +<p> +“A cabbit,” said Laurie, loftily, “is something +between a cabbage and a carrot.” +</p> +<p> +“What does it look like?” giggled Polly. +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“No, I don’t think so.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it’s awful, but I manage to bear up under +it,” Laurie sighed. +</p> +<p> +“How did you ever come to think of making +those funny rhymes?” Polly asked. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“The dictionary said it was an imperfect rhyme, +Laurie, and—” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> + “When feeling ill send for Miss Yetter.<br /> + If you don’t die, she’ll make you better.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“You <em>are</em> funny!” laughed Polly. “Is your +mother—haven’t you—” +</p> +<p> +“She died when we were kids,” answered +Laurie. “I just remember her, but Ned doesn’t.” +</p> +<p> +“You think you do. You’ve just heard Dad, +and nurse talk about her. We were only four +when Mother died.” +</p> +<p> +Laurie looked unconvinced, but didn’t argue +the matter. Instead he asked, “Your father’s +dead, isn’t he, Polly?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span> +</p> +<p> +“Was that Mr. Coventry?” asked Laurie. +“The mis—I mean the man who lived in the big +square house over there?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“It doesn’t look as if it needed much doing +to,” said Ned, critically. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but it does! It needs a new coat of paint, +for one thing. And some of the blinds are broken. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Attaboy!” approved Ned. “What are you +going to do, Polly?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“I guess so,” Ned agreed. “There’s a woman +in Dad’s office who gets eighteen dollars a week.” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Who is Hilary?” Laurie inquired. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Where is he now? Hilary, I mean,” added +Laurie, somewhat unnecessarily. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know. He went away a little while +after Uncle Peter died. He said he was going +to New York, I think.” +</p> +<p> +“You don’t suppose he took the money with +him, do you? I mean—” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +Polly laughed. “Oh, I wish that he would! +But I guess if the lawyers couldn’t find it he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +never will. Lawyers, they say, can find money +when nobody else can! Is he nice?” +</p> +<p> +“Bob? Yes, he’s a dandy chap. You ought +to know him, Polly; he’s your next-door neighbor.” +</p> +<p> +“Back-door neighbor, you mean,” interpolated +Ned. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Is Mae Something the girl with the molasses-candy +hair you were with at the high school +game?” Laurie asked. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, but her hair isn’t like molasses candy. +It’s perfectly lovely hair. It’s like—like diluted +sunshine!” +</p> +<p> +Laurie whistled. “Gee! Did you get that, +Neddie? Well, anyway, I like dark hair better.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t blame her,” said Laurie. “What do +you say, Ned?” +</p> +<p> +“I say I’ve got to beat it back and get into +football togs. What time is it?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Not a bit. I’ll be around again before Saturday +and see what she says.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Really? Bully for her! Wait till I say farewell +to Antoinette, ‘most beauteous of rabbits!’ +What does she twitch her nose like that for?” +</p> +<p> +“I think she’s asking for some cabbits,” replied +Polly, gravely. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“We give you thanks and say farewell, Miss +Polly.” +</p> +<p> +“The visit’s been, indeed, most jolly!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span><a name='chXI' id='chXI'></a>CHAPTER XI—NED SPEAKS OUT</h2> +<p> +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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +machine yet, but it seemed that Mulford had +found his parts and that only a generous oiling +was needed. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +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: +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Chairman!” +</p> +<p> +“Mister—” Dan Whipple pointed a finger at +Ned and nodded. +</p> +<p> +“Turner,” prompted Kewpie from a front seat. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Turner,” encouraged the chairman. +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“You tell ’em,” piped a small junior, above the +applause and laughter. +</p> +<p> +“All right! I’ll tell you fellows that you’re +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“That’s one way of getting the money,” continued +Ned, warming up finely, “but there’s +another. Out my way—” +</p> +<p> +“Say, where do you come from?” called some +one. +</p> +<p> +“I come from California,” answered Ned, +proudly. “Maybe you’ve heard of it!” +</p> +<p> +“Attaboy!” shouted Kewpie. “Swing your +leg, Nid!” +</p> +<p> +“When we want to raise some money out there +and folks are too stingy to give it outright, we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +Ned sat down amid loud applause, and Dave +Brewster was recognized, although half a dozen +others were clamoring for speech. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Seconded!” +</p> +<p> +“You have heard the motion,” droned Whipple. +“All those in favor will so signify by saying +‘Aye.’ Contrary, ‘No.’ Moved and carried. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Full authority, Mr. Chairman!” “Let ’em go +ahead with it!” “Sure! That’s what we want. +Let’s have action!” +</p> +<p> +“Is there any other business? Then I declare +the meeting adjourned!” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe it will be warmer,” answered Ned, +cheerfully. “Besides, we don’t have to have it +outdoors.” +</p> +<p> +“It wouldn’t be a fête if you didn’t,” sniffed +the other. +</p> +<p> +“Well, what’s the difference? Call it anything +you like. The big thing is to get the +money.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +</p> +<p> +“You had your cheek with you to talk the way +you did,” chuckled Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“He talked sense, though,” asserted Lee, +warmly. +</p> +<p> +“Of course. The Turners always do.” Laurie +steered Ned toward the entrance of East Hall. +“Well, good night, Lee. See you at the fête!” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Hey, where do you get that stuff?” demanded +Laurie. “Why drag me into it? It’s not my +fête. I don’t own it.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +So Laurie subsided and for more than an hour +he and Ned racked their brains and gradually the +plan took shape. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span><a name='chXII' id='chXII'></a>CHAPTER XII—THE COMMITTEE ON ARRANGEMENTS</h2> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“No thanks to you,” grumbled Laurie, who +was, however, secretly much pleased. +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean at Uncle Peter’s?” exclaimed Polly. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“And how much to get out?” asked Mae, innocently. +</p> +<p> +Ned grinned. “As much as we can get away +from them. There’ll be twelve booths to sell +things in—” +</p> +<p> +“What sort of things?” Polly inquired. +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it would be darling!” cried Polly. +</p> +<p> +“I’d love to!” said Mae. +</p> +<p> +“Only—” +</p> +<p> +“Only—” +</p> +<p> +“Only what!” asked Ned, as the girls viewed +each other doubtfully. +</p> +<p> +“I’m not sure Mother would let me,” sighed +Polly. “Do you think she would, Mae?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +</p> +<p> +“I don’t believe so. And I don’t believe Mama +would let me. She—she’s awfully particular that +way.” +</p> +<p> +“Gee!” said Ned, in disappointed tones, “I +don’t see why not! It isn’t as if—” +</p> +<p> +“Of course it isn’t,” agreed Laurie. “Besides, +your mothers would be there too!” +</p> +<p> +“Would they?” asked Mae, uncertainly. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +Polly giggled. “We might ask Stella Hatch to +take the Harvard booth, Mae. With her hair, +she wouldn’t have to dress much!” +</p> +<p> +“And you and Polly could take your first pick,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span> +observed Laurie, craftily. “You’d look swell +as—as Dartmouth, Mae!” +</p> +<p> +“In <em>green</em>! 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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“What sort?” asked Polly. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“I told you a dozen times I wouldn’t! Besides, +I haven’t any rope.” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“And that reminds me, Polly. Do you suppose +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span> +that Miss Comfort would make some cakes +for us?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, yes, Nid, but—but you’d have to <em>buy</em> +them. I don’t think you ought to expect her to +<em>donate</em> them.” +</p> +<p> +“We meant to buy them, of course, Polly. +And we wondered if your mother would make +some of those dandy cream-puffs.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m sure she will. How many would you +want?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, you can’t! Besides, Nid, three hundred +people would only bring in seventy-five +dollars!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“But lots of them won’t. Do you think they +will, Mae?” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +Ned kicked at the turf gloomily. “Gee, that’s +fierce!” he muttered. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! And did they let you off, too, Nod?” +asked Polly. +</p> +<p> +“No, we’re through with baseball,” Laurie +answered. “No more till spring. I’m just fairly +broken-hearted!” +</p> +<p> +“When will you know about helping us, Polly?” +Ned asked. +</p> +<div><a name='illus3' id='illus3'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i004' id='i004'></a> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt="“But don’t you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?” asked Polly" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>“But don’t you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?” asked Polly</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span></div> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“So do we!” said Ned and Laurie, in a breath. +“Rather!” +</p> +<p> +And the Committee on Arrangements hurried +away. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“That means, though,” he said, “that we’ll +have to have some kind of a platform. Better +make a note of that, Lew.” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +enough. We’ll see if we can’t get the use of +it.” +</p> +<p> +“Good! Better ask Mr. Wells, Say, Hal, did +you see Norris?” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course. Much obliged. Speaking of eats, +fellows, what’s been done about the refreshments?” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Depends on how many will attend the show,” +said Lew. “Find that out—” +</p> +<p> +“How’re we going to find it out, you chump? +How many do you suppose we can count on, +Ned?” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe six hundred,” was the answer. “But +if it should rain—” +</p> +<p> +“There you are! If it rained, we mightn’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“We thought we might find some one who could +sing or dance. But we don’t know many of the +fellows.” +</p> +<p> +“Bully! There’s Cheesman, Lew. He’s a +corker. And Kewpie isn’t so bad. He sings a +funny song mighty well.” +</p> +<p> +“He couldn’t sing it in the afternoon, though, +Dan: he’d be at the field.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s so! still, the game ought to be finished +by four. We wouldn’t have the entertainment +part until late, would we?” +</p> +<p> +“About four, I thought,” said Ned, “but Kewpie +could come last. I’ll put him down, anyway.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span> +</p> +<p> +“Anything else besides songs?” asked Dan. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, only-” Ned dropped his voice and +glanced at Pringle—“only it’s got to be kept +a secret to make good.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Hal’s all right. He’s a sort of ex-officio +member of the committee. Shoot, Ned!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span><a name='chXIII' id='chXIII'></a>CHAPTER XIII—NED GETS INTO THE GAME</h2> +<p> +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! +</p> +<p> +Miss Tabitha had proved as helpful as Dan +Whipple had predicted. She had shaken her head +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes’m,” said Ned. “We wanted Mrs. Deane +to make more, but she didn’t think she +could.” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“A hundred and twenty-eight, ma’am.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, and a hundred and twenty-eight and a +hundred and forty-four—” +</p> +<p> +“Two hundred and seventy-two.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes’m; thanks awfully,” answered Ned. +</p> +<p> +“Who is going to serve the refreshments?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span> +</p> +<p> +“Why—why—” Ned’s face fell. “I guess +we hadn’t thought of that!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Miss Hillman, if you would! Gee, that +would be great! It—it’ll be a lot of trouble, +though, ma’am.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I guess it won’t be the first trouble I’ve +seen,” replied Miss Tabitha, dryly; “nor it won’t +be the last!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Dad got a couple of the men to cut those +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“You bet!” responded Laurie, heartily. “I +wouldn’t have known the place! I say, Bob, +this arbor’s longer than I thought it was.” +</p> +<p> +“Forty feet, about. Why?” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“Twenty-five cents for a table? Isn’t that +dirt-cheap?” +</p> +<p> +“We’re only renting them, you idiot!” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll have to have a step-ladder, Bob!” +</p> +<p> +“There’s a short ladder right beside you. Be +right back.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Nod!” called the voice. “Nod, will you please +come here a moment?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“I can’t stay here l-long,” she said. “I—I’m +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span> +just hanging by my elbows. I cl-climbed up on a +board, and it’s fallen down!” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll get you a ladder!” cried Laurie, gallantly. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“Why, brown, of course!” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +Polly disappeared. There was a thud from the +next yard. +</p> +<p> +“Purple!” The word floated across to him, +muffled but triumphant. +</p> +<p> +“Are you hurt, Polly?” he called anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span> +begged to be some girls’ college neither Mae nor +I had ever heard of, just so she could wear lavender +and pale lemon!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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 <em>thought</em> you came here to fix +up the arbor. Instead of that I find you talking +to girls over the fence!” +</p> +<p> +“There’s only one girl,” replied Laurie, with +dignity, “and we were talking business.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, of course! Sorry I interrupted.” +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t be, and you didn’t. Quit grinning +like a simpleton and give me a hammer!” +</p> +<p> +“Right-o! Come on, Thomas! It’s quite all +right now!” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“No, sir; I haven’t seen them.” +</p> +<p> +“Lanterns, Mr. Starling?” asked Laurie. “Do +you mean Chinese lanterns? We’ve ordered a +lot from the caterer, sir.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s very kind, sir,” said Laurie, “but you +needn’t have done it. You—you’re doing <em>everything</em>!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span> +and each hand held a firm grip on his hair. At +Laurie’s arrival he merely grunted. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Cornish said that?” gasped Laurie. +“What do you know about that? Why, I thought +he was a gentleman!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Didn’t you tell him you’d been busy with the +fête and everything?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Aren’t they? How much of that have you +got?” +</p> +<p> +“Six pages. I—I’ve sort of neglected it the +last two days. Some fellows can fake through, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span> +but I don’t have any luck. He’s always picking +on me.” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Us?” questioned Ned, hopefully. +</p> +<p> +“Sure. I’ll give you a hand. As the well-known +proverb so wisely remarks, two heads are +the shortest way home.” +</p> +<p> +Ned grinned, and stopped tormenting his hair. +“Honest? That’s mighty decent, Laurie. I’ll +do as much for you some day.” +</p> +<p> +“Hope you won’t have to. Wash your dirty +face and let’s beat it!” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe, partner, and maybe not. Take my advice +and, in the words of the Scouts, be prepared!” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +Dinner brought a respite; but as soon as it was +over, Laurie was back on the job, while Ned joined +the football-players. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span><a name='chXIV' id='chXIV'></a>CHAPTER XIV—THE FETE</h2> +<p> +Behold Fairyland! +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span> +framed and ready for hanging! Can I sell +you something, ma’am?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“How’s it going?” asked a heavily-built youth +of a slimmer one who had paused at the entrance +to the arbor. +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +get another pretty soon. When do I have to +sing again?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes; we couldn’t work it in daylight very +well. It ought to go fine to-night, though.” +</p> +<p> +“What is it?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Wanted to bring me refreshments, I suppose.” +</p> +<p> +George looked at the empty plates, laughed, and +shook his head. “Not exactly. I’ve been feeding Cornell. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +Somebody ought to take eats to +those girls, Nod; they’re starving!” +</p> +<p> +“All right; you do it.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“No, thanks. Have you seen Dan Whipple?” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span> +that the refreshments would be exhausted +far too soon. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span> +Donnybrook Fair, and swinging a shillaly, did +some jig-dancing that was really clever and won +much applause. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +The Signor had a noticeable likeness to Lew +Cooper, in spite of his gorgeous mustache and +flowing robe of red and purple cheese-cloth. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Ah!” exclaimed the Signor, delightedly. +“You will helpa me, <em>si</em>? Right thisa way, Signor. +I thanka you!” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“Maka him tight,” directed the Signor, enthusiastically, +waving his wand. “Pulla da knot. +Ha, thata da way! Good! Signors, I thanka +you!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +Laurie chuckled as he made his way to Polly’s +booth. That young lady looked a little tired, and, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Corking, Polly,” he assured her. “I guess +you’ve sold more than any of the others, haven’t +you?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, that’s seventeen dollars!” exclaimed +Laurie. “I didn’t think you had anywhere near +seventeen dollars’ worth of things here, Polly!” +</p> +<p> +“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 <em>wanted</em> 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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +Laurie laughed. “What did she say to that?” +he asked. +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +Laurie shook his head. “No; but, say, if you +want to go in there, I’ll watch the booth for +you.” +</p> +<p> +Polly hesitated. “It’s funny you don’t,” she +said. “Don’t you like it?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“It isn’t silly at all,” asserted Polly, almost +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span> +indignantly. “You ought to learn. Mae could +teach you to one-step in no time at all!” +</p> +<p> +“I guess that’s about the way I’d do it,” answered +Laurie, sadly—“in no time at all! Don’t +you—couldn’t <em>you</em> teach a fellow?” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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 <em>might</em> come.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you care? You don’t own ’em! +Anyway, I guess I could sell a post-card if I had +to!” +</p> +<p> +“You’d have trouble selling any of those pictures,” +laughed Polly. “Aren’t they dreadful? +Where did they come from?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span> +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“What about them? What boys do you +mean?” Laurie asked coldly. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Cheeky beggars,” grumbled Laurie. “Guess +we can do without them, though. Here comes +Bob’s father.” +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well, Turner,” he greeted, “this affair looks +like a huge success, doesn’t it? Why aren’t you +young folks inside there, dancing?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +Polly apparently didn’t know just what to say +for a minute, and her gaze sought counsel of +Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“If you ask me,” laughed the latter, “I’d say +fifty cents was a big price for the lot!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“We-ell—” Polly did some mental arithmetic, +and then, doubtfully: “A dollar and a half, +sir,” she said. +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“By Jove, he’s a brick!” exclaimed Laurie, +warmly. “Look, he’s doing the same thing +everywhere!” +</p> +<p> +“I know,” answered Polly, watching. “It’s +just dear of him, isn’t it? But, Nod, <em>what</em> do +you suppose he will do with these awful pictures?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +Laurie followed, for the second time in his life +wishing that the Terpsichorean art had been included +in his education! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span><a name='chXV' id='chXV'></a>CHAPTER XV—NED HAS AN IDEA</h2> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“I dare say you guessed enough,” replied Ned, +untroubled. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, well, it’s gone for a worthy cause,” +laughed Ned. +</p> +<p> +“Maybe,” Laurie grumbled, “but I notice that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +none of yours has gone that way. You always +made me pay for everything!” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I think you did it beautifully,” said +Polly. “I never suspected you’d make so much!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +The boys’ laughter interrupted, and Polly +looked puzzled. +</p> +<p> +“That wasn’t Laurie,” explained Ned. +“That was me.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span> +</p> +<p> +“But I was sure you were the one in the +chair! And if you were in the chair, how could +you—” +</p> +<p> +“I wasn’t, though. That was Laurie.” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“It was as easy as easy,” replied Ned. “You +see, the way I planned it first—” +</p> +<p> +“The way <em>who</em> planned it?” inquired Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“Well, the way <em>we</em> planned it, then.” +</p> +<p> +“Hold on! Whose idea was it in the first +place, partner?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, don’t be so fussy! Anyway, you couldn’t +have done it without me!” +</p> +<p> +“I never said I could. But you’ve got a lot of +cheek to talk about the way <em>you—</em>” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“Indeed they were,” agreed Polly. “They +just couldn’t understand it at all!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Well,” said Ned, a few minutes later, “I’m +not finding out what to do with this.” He opened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Give up!” exclaimed Ned. “You mean—go +away?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Can’t she charge more for things?” asked +Laurie. “Everyone else does nowadays. That +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span> +bake-shop down on Hudson Street gets eight +cents for cream-puffs and éclairs, and you sell +them for six.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Suppose he up and died so’s he wouldn’t +have to do it?” inquired Laurie, suspiciously. +</p> +<p> +Polly shook her head and looked a trifle shocked, +until she caught the smile in Ned’s eyes. +</p> +<p> +“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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span> +“It’s not much more than a doll’s house, anyway. +How many rooms are there, Polly?” +</p> +<p> +“Three upstairs, and then a sort of attic room +under the roof; and two downstairs.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +Laurie gasped. “A couple of days! You? +How do you get like that? It would take a real +painter a week to do it!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I guess so,” replied Laurie, without +much enthusiasm. “I promised Bob and George +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +to get another fellow and play some tennis this +afternoon.” +</p> +<p> +“Gee! it must be great to have nothing to do +but play,” sighed his brother. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose it pains him to see you loafing,” +said Laurie. “Anyway, I dare say it’ll keep you +out of mischief.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span> +</p> +<p> +“Bob still mean to make a tennis-court here?” +asked Ned, as they went through the gate. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“All right; but I think it’s a shame to let her +stand for all those cakes.” +</p> +<p> +“So do I; only—” +</p> +<p> +“Only what?” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe we can make it up to her another way. +I’ve got an idea, Laurie.” +</p> +<p> +“I hope it’s better than most of ’em. What is +it?” +</p> +<p> +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—” +</p> +<p> +“Christmas vacation,” said Ned. “We won’t +have much to do then. What do you say?” +</p> +<p> +“I say that, for the first time in my life, Neddie, +I’m proud to acknowledge you as my twin!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span><a name='chXVI' id='chXVI'></a>CHAPTER XVI—POLLY TELLS A SPOOK STORY</h2> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +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! +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span> +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“That all you’re going to have?” asked Bob. +“No kitchen?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, there’ll be a kitchen, all right, and a dining-room—no, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span> +I guess we’ll eat on the porch. +Wouldn’t it be a dandy place, though? Look at +the view!” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“Not a bit! Nobody asked you, anyway.” +</p> +<p> +“You could live on nuts,” murmured Polly, +“and could have shaggy-barks for breakfast and +beech-nuts for dinner and—” +</p> +<p> +“Grape-nuts for supper,” said Laurie, coming +to the rescue. +</p> +<p> +“And you could call the place the Squirrel-Cage,” +suggested Bob. +</p> +<p> +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—” +</p> +<p> +“What army?” George asked. +</p> +<p> +“The Northern Army, of course.” +</p> +<p> +“I thought you might mean the Salvation +Army. Then this was quite awhile ago, wasn’t +it?” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“You’re horrid! Anyway, it just shows that +you mustn’t judge folks by—by outward appearances, +doesn’t it?” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“You didn’t,” said George. “If you had +you’d have waked up quicker! Cut out the +chatter; Polly’s telling a spook yarn.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span> +</p> +<p> +Lee gathered up a handful of beech-nuts and +was silent except for the sound he made in cracking +the shells. +</p> +<p> +“It isn’t much of a story,” disclaimed Polly, +“but it—it <em>was</em> 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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, maybe it was,” suggested Laurie, when +Polly paused. +</p> +<p> +“That’s what we thought, Nod, until we went +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span> +to see. Then we remembered that there wasn’t +any cellar!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” said Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“What happened then?” asked Lee, flicking a +shell at George. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Spooks,” declared George, with unction. +“The house is haunted, Polly.” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span> +down in the store some night, will you? I’d love +to!” +</p> +<p> +“You’ve got funny ideas of fun,” murmured +George. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but it’s gone now,” said Mae. “Hasn’t +it, Polly? You haven’t heard the noise for a long +time, have you?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“I guess Mr. What’s-his-name was right,” said +Lee. “It was probably a rat, or a family of rats.” +</p> +<p> +“Rats wouldn’t make the same sound every +time,” scoffed Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“They might. Trained rats might. Maybe +they escaped from a circus.” +</p> +<p> +“And maybe you escaped from an asylum,” responded +Laurie, getting up. “Let’s take him +home before he gets violent.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span><a name='chXVII' id='chXVII'></a>CHAPTER XVII—LAURIE MAKES A PROTEST</h2> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +Coach Mulford began with his first-string +players, and against them High School was not +dangerous, although there were anxious moments. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span> +cavorting wildly. The kick was from a difficult +angle, but the tow-haired player made it, and +the score was tied. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span> +rivalry was even more intense, and black looks +and hard knocks were the order. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +On the side-line, Coach Mulford turned to Joe +Stevenson. “What do you think of Kendrick?” +he asked, smiling. +</p> +<p> +“I’d kiss him if I had him here,” answered +Joe, grinning joyously. “I call him one sweet +little quarter, Coach!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +And Ned <em>was</em> 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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +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 <em>thud</em>, +and the quarter-back, watching its flight, saw +the pigskin rise lazily, end over end, and go +straight and high over the bar. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +Another kick-off and four plays ended the +contest, and High School, after cheering half-heartedly, +went off disgruntled and silent. +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Indeed she did,” agreed Mae. “I thought +once she was going to win, too.” +</p> +<p> +Polly was laughing. “Poor Mae didn’t know +which team she wanted to win,” she explained. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +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—” +</p> +<p> +“Well, what of it? What’s your chief +trouble?” growled Ned. +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, go to the dickens!” muttered Ned, as the +door closed softly. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span><a name='chXVIII' id='chXVIII'></a>CHAPTER XVIII—BEFORE THE BATTLE</h2> +<p> +“The fellow who put these posts in,” grunted +Bob, as he heaved and tugged, “must have +had more time than brains!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Come on,” he said hopefully. “One, two—three! +Heave!” +</p> +<p> +“Heave!” muttered Bob. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Guess we’ll have to dig some more,” said +Bob. +</p> +<p> +“Wait a minute. Let me get a purchase on it +with the bar.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<p> +“Well!” he gasped. “What do you know—” +</p> +<p> +“Where-where did it go to?” cried Bob, dumfounded. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“Find it?” asked Bob. “Try the shovel.” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“I guess so. Anyway, it’s gone, and we’ll +have to get a new one.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I guess we’ll find it when we get the post +out. Let’s try the old thing.” +</p> +<p> +They did, and, after a moment of indecision, +it came out most obligingly. But there was still +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span> +no crowbar to be seen. Laurie shook his head, +mystified. “That’s the funniest thing I ever +saw,” he declared. +</p> +<p> +“It surely is! Look here; maybe there’s an +old well there.” +</p> +<p> +“Then why didn’t the post go down into it?” +</p> +<p> +“Because it’s covered over with stones. The +bar happened to slip into a—a crevice.” +</p> +<p> +Laurie nodded dubiously. “That might be +it,” he agreed. “Or perhaps we’ve discovered +a subterranean cavern!” +</p> +<p> +“Caverns always are subterranean, aren’t +they?” +</p> +<p> +“No; sometimes they’re in the side of a hill.” +</p> +<p> +“Then they’re caves.” +</p> +<p> +“A cave and a cavern are the same thing, you +smart Aleck.” +</p> +<p> +“All right; but even if a cavern is in a hill, +it’s underground, and subterranean means under—” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe you’d find the crowbar then,” said +Bob. “Heave!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span> +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you want to build?” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“Who’d dig the post-holes?” inquired Bob, +coldly. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Right-o! How about those other posts? No +use trying to do anything with ’em to-day, is +there?” +</p> +<p> +“No; we’ll have to have another crowbar.” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +There was a rousing football meeting in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span> +asked: ‘And now, children, what shall I say?’ +And a little girl in the front row lisped: ‘Pleathe, +Mithter, thay “Amen” and thit down!’ +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +This amused his hearers intensely, since none +of the three instructors mentioned had ever been +known to attend a game or watch a practice. +</p> +<p> +“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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span> +I shudder when I dwell on that unequal meeting, +that impending battle of David and Goliath!” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“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! <em>Hillman’s!!</em> HILLMAN’S!!!” +And the little throng, laughing +and chattering, dispersed to the dormitories. +</p> +<p> +Friday saw but a light practice for the first +team and a final appearance of the scrubs, who, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t see why he needs to worry, anyhow,” +observed Laurie, cruelly. “He won’t get a show +in to-morrow’s game.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span> +bet you that to-morrow they’ll have him out of +it before the last quarter.” +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean?” asked Laurie, in surprise. +“They don’t play that sort of a game, +do they?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +Kewpie smiled knowingly. “My son,” he +said, “if I start after you and run you around +the dormitory about twenty times—” +</p> +<p> +Ned, in spite of his down-heartedness, snickered +at the picture evolved, and Kewpie grinned. +</p> +<p> +“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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“Next year?” said Laurie, questioningly. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t!” groaned Ned. “I never could do +it!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“It’s a go!” cried Kewpie. “And if he +doesn’t, I’ll do it to you!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span> +out all right to-morrow. You understand. +Night!” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“Well, what of it? You’d like that, wouldn’t +you?” +</p> +<p> +“I—I’m scared!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“No, thanks; I guess not. I’d better go to +sleep.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span> +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! +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span><a name='chXIX' id='chXIX'></a>CHAPTER XIX—NED IS MISSING</h2> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +Ned didn’t answer at once. When he did, +he only replied laconically: “Rotten!” +</p> +<p> +“How do you mean, rotten?” Laurie disguised +anxiety under flippancy. “Tummy out of +whack? Or is it a case of ingrowing signals?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +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?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span> +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“Fine idea!” scoffed Laurie. “What have +you got against the river? It never did anything +to you, did it?” +</p> +<p> +Ned, however, refused to smile. “You don’t +need to come along,” he said. “I—I guess I’d +rather be alone, Laurie.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span> +exhibited unusual patience. And finally +it was over and the class trooped out. +</p> +<p> +“You stay here,” said Laurie, “and I’ll run +over and get a couple of books from the room. +What do you want?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t care—anything,” answered Ned, +listlessly. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span> +lengthen his kicks frightfully. Did Nod think +those clouds meant wind? +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Nid Turner? No, I haven’t seen him. He’ll +be here pretty quick, though. We eat at twelve.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Suppose—suppose he isn’t?” asked Laurie, +anxiously. “Would it matter much?” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Say, Nod, where’s that brother of yours?” +he demanded indignantly. “Didn’t he know that +lunch was at twelve? Where is he, anyway?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“What’s the big idea?” asked George, blankly. +“Why can’t you go with us? That’s a fine game +to play!” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“How the dickens can I tell Polly how it is when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +Presently Laurie looked at his watch. The +time was eighteen minutes to two. He left East +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span> +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. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span><a name='chXX' id='chXX'></a>CHAPTER XX—FOR THE HONOR OF THE TURNERS</h2> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Going my way?” he asked. “Get in if you +like.” +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span> +</p> +<p> +“That’s all right, my boy,” answered the man, +genially. “Glad to have company. How far are +you going?” +</p> +<p> +“Just—just up the road a ways,” replied Ned, +vaguely. “I was out for a walk, only this seemed +better.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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— +</p> +<p> +At about that moment he stopped thinking at +all and went sound asleep. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span> +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! +</p> +<p> +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—” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span> +might not fool Laurie; but the others, Coach Mulford +and Dave Murray and the fellows, would +have to believe him. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +Perhaps those three miles were nearer four, +because when, tired, dusty, and heart-sick, he descried +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<p> +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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“What period is it?” he asked. +</p> +<p> +“Fourth,” was the answer. The man turned +a good-natured look on the boy’s anxious face. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span> +</p> +<p> +“Been going about four minutes. You just get +here?” +</p> +<p> +Ned nodded. “How did they get their nine?” +he asked. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Placement or drop?” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“How did Hillman’s score?” he asked. +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span> +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! +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span> +</p> +<p> +“’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, +’rah, ’rah! Deering!” +</p> +<p> +And then again, a second later: “’Rah, ’rah, +’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! Turner!” +</p> +<p> +Ned turned imploringly to the tall policeman. +“What—who was that last fellow they cheered?” +he faltered. +</p> +<p> +The policeman looked down impatiently. +</p> +<p> +“Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal +for ’em.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span><a name='chXXI' id='chXXI'></a>CHAPTER XXI—THE UNDERSTUDY</h2> +<p> +“<em>Block that kick! Block that kick! Block +that kick!</em>” chanted Farview imploringly, +from across the trampled field. +</p> +<p> +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—” +</p> +<p> +But it was Hop himself who dashed straight +forward and squirmed ahead over one white line +before the whistle blew. +</p> +<p> +“Fourth down!” called the referee. “About +four and a half!” +</p> +<p> +“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: +</p> +<p> +“Kick formation! Turner back!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span> +</p> +<p> +Then he walked back to where the substitute +stood and dropped to his knees. +</p> +<p> +“Place-kick!” grunted a man at Ned’s elbow. +“Can’t miss it from there if the line holds!” +</p> +<p> +Ned, in a perfect agony of suspense, waited. +Hop was calling his signals. There was a pause. +Then: “16—32—7—” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<div><a name='illus4' id='illus4'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i005' id='i005'></a> +<img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt="“Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.”" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>“Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.”</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span></div> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” he said, finally, “what happened to +you?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Neddie,” he chuckled, “you’ll be the death +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“How—why—how did you happen to think of +it?” asked Ned, rather humbly. “Weren’t you—scared?” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span> +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 <em>win this +game!</em>’ +</p> +<p> +“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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span> +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“You’re a regular brick,” said Ned, a bit +huskily. “What—what happened afterward? +I didn’t stay.” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you think any one but Hop found out?” +asked Ned, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“Not a one. And I’m not sure, mind you, that +Hop did. You see, he didn’t <em>say</em> 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.” +</p> +<p> +“You don’t think I’d ought to fess up?” asked +Ned. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“It was wonderful,” mused Ned. “You putting +it over, I mean. With all that crowd looking +on, and Farview shouting—” +</p> +<p> +“Shouting? I didn’t hear them. I didn’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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!” +</p> +<p> +“Gee, that’s so!” Laurie worked feverishly, +while Ned stumbled over a chair and turned the +key in the lock. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Well, we did it, Nid!” he said joyfully, clapping +that youth on the shoulder. “That was a +corking kick of yours, son!” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +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. <em>Some one’s</em> got to kick +it!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +And, because neither asked Hop Kendrick outright, +neither ever did know! +</p> +<p> +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, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +Ned was just dropping off to sleep that night +when Laurie’s voice reached him through the +darkness. +</p> +<p> +“Ned!” called Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“Huh?” +</p> +<p> +“Are you awake?” +</p> +<p> +“Uh-huh.” +</p> +<p> +“Listen. It’s a fortunate thing to be a twin.” +</p> +<p> +There was a long moment of silence. Then +Ned’s voice came sleepily: +</p> +<p> +“’Cause if one twin can’t the other twin kin!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span><a name='chXXII' id='chXXII'></a>CHAPTER XXII—THE BOYS MAKE A PRESENT</h2> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span> +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“You bet! And skating, too! And then +there’s that other scheme. Mustn’t forget that, +Neddie.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean—” +</p> +<p> +“Yes. Didn’t you say we’d do it during +vacation?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span> +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span> +present? Say we worked hard all day +Thursday and Friday—” +</p> +<p> +“Great! Only if it snowed—” +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“I did,” answered Laurie modestly. “I asked +Polly. She said white.” +</p> +<p> +“White! Geewhillikins, Laurie, that makes it +harder, doesn’t it? We’d have to put on two +coats!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span> +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +Besides George and the twins, there remained +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257'></a>257</span> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258'></a>258</span> +remained, and she hurried downstairs +as fast as ever she could go. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Polly! What are they doing?” she gasped. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Painting the house, Mrs. Deane!” +</p> +<p> +“Painting the house! My house? Why—why—what—who—” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“But I don’t understand, Nid Turner!” said +Mrs. Deane helplessly. “Who told you to? +Who’s going to pay for it?” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259'></a>259</span> +you—heard the bell?” Mrs. Deane’s eyes were +frankly wet as she turned hurriedly away and +disappeared inside. Ned viewed Polly anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“Do you think she—doesn’t like it?” he half +whispered. +</p> +<p> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” said Ned and Laurie in chorus, their +faces brightening; and Laurie added apologetically: +“Gee, we didn’t want to make her cry, +Polly!” +</p> +<p> +“That sort of a cry doesn’t hurt,” said Polly. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260'></a>260</span> +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.) +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261'></a>261</span> +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! +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262'></a>262</span><a name='chXXIII' id='chXXIII'></a>CHAPTER XXIII—THE SECRET PASSAGE</h2> +<p> +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. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263'></a>263</span> +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“Factotum, you mean,” laughed Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264'></a>264</span> +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.” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“I know you did. That’s why we got those.” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“Wait till we finish this job,” said Laurie. +“Grab a handful and come on. Is Thomas very +sick?” +</p> +<p> +“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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265'></a>265</span> +up at half-past six and shoveled coal to beat the +band!” +</p> +<p> +“Where do you want to put these?” asked +Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266'></a>266</span> +</p> +<p> +“Hey!” said Laurie, startled. +</p> +<p> +Bob, at the doorway, turned. “What’s the +matter?” he asked. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“That’s funny,” he said. “Push on it.” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“What of it?” +</p> +<p> +“Nothing, maybe; only, if the back swung out +the side shelves wouldn’t stop it! See what I +mean?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267'></a>267</span> +</p> +<p> +“Not exactly. Anyhow, it doesn’t swing out, +so what’s the—” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“Wait!” Laurie bent and pulled aside the box +of jars. “Now!” +</p> +<p> +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! +</p> +<p> +“Gee!” whispered Laurie. “What do you suppose—” +</p> +<p> +“Pull them wide open and let’s find out,” said +Bob recklessly. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“Know what I think?” asked Bob, in low tones. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268'></a>268</span> +“I think we’ve found the miser’s hiding-place, +Nod!” +</p> +<p> +“Honest? Maybe it’s just a—a drain or something. +Got a match?” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +The match flickered and went out, and in the +succeeding gloom the two boys stared at each +other with wide eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Would you dare go in there?” asked Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“Sure! Why not? It can’t be anything but +a sort of cave underground. Wait till I get a +candle.” +</p> +<p> +“A lantern would be better,” suggested Laurie, +viewing the hole dubiously. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +Laurie heard the chimney of the lantern squeak +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269'></a>269</span> +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!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and it isn’t a cave at all; it’s a tunnel!” +said Bob, in awed tones. “What do you say?” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“Where do you suppose it goes to?” asked +Bob, in a hushed voice. +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +“Sure! Only I thought we were going to find +old Coventry’s treasure!” +</p> +<p> +“How do you know we aren’t?” asked Laurie. +</p> +<p> +“That’s so! Maybe he buried it under the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270'></a>270</span> +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! +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, but—where does this thing go to, Bob?” +</p> +<p> +“Let’s find out. It can’t go much farther, because +the arbor was only about forty feet from +the back fence.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Guess we don’t go any farther,” said Bob, +dryly. +</p> +<p> +“Maybe the key’s here somewhere,” Laurie +suggested; and, although Bob scoffed at the suggestion, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271'></a>271</span> +they searched thoroughly but without success. +</p> +<p> +“We could bust it,” Bob said; “only maybe +we haven’t any right to.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t see why not, Bob. We discovered it. +Let’s!” +</p> +<p> +“We-ell, but one of us’ll have to go for a hammer +or something.” +</p> +<p> +“Sure; I’ll go.” +</p> +<p> +“And leave me here in the dark? I guess +not!” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll both go, then. Hold on! What’s the +matter with the crowbar?” +</p> +<p> +“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.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272'></a>272</span><a name='chXXIV' id='chXXIV'></a>CHAPTER XXIV—A MERRY CHRISTMAS</h2> +<p> +“Guess Laurie got lost,” grumbled Ned, kicking +one foot against the step and looking +across the yard. +</p> +<p> +George laughed. “Guess you could find him +if you went as far as the Widow’s, Nid.” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“There’s ’most an hour yet. Let’s go and +have a look for him. He and Bob are probably +at Polly’s.” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“What’s he saying?” asked George. “What’s +wrong?” +</p> +<p> +“Wants us to hurry,” grumbled Ned. “We +are hurrying, you idiot!” he continued, raising his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273'></a>273</span> +voice. But he hurried faster, George at his heels, +and met Laurie at the front gate. +</p> +<p> +“What’s your trouble?” he demanded. +“House on fire? Bob got the croup? What is +it? Can’t you talk?” +</p> +<p> +“Can’t tell you,” panted Laurie. “You’ve got +to see—for yourself! Come on!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Has he told you?” he cried, as the others piled +down the stairs. +</p> +<p> +“Told me? He hasn’t told anything,” gasped +Ned, shaking himself free at last. “What is it?” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +They found themselves in a small cellar-like +compartment scarcely four paces square. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274'></a>274</span> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Go and look!” he said excitedly. +</p> +<p> +Ned and George obeyed. Within the chest lay +four fat, heavy brownish envelopes, bound and tied +with pink tape. +</p> +<p> +“Take one out and open it,” said Bob over +Ned’s shoulder. +</p> +<p> +Ned picked up one. Across one end was written +in scrawly characters the inscription “Gov’t.” +</p> +<p> +“‘Government,’” explained Laurie, softly. +“It’s full of United States bonds. Nearly a +dozen of them. Have a look.” +</p> +<p> +“Geewhillikins!” breathed Ned, in awe, as he +drew the folded contents into the light. “Old +Coventry’s, do you mean?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe they’re no good,” offered George. +</p> +<p> +“How do you mean, no good?” asked Ned indignantly. +“United States bonds are always +good!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275'></a>275</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well, the others—” +</p> +<p> +“They’re railroad bonds, all of them, three +different lots,” said Bob. “I guess they’re all +right, too, don’t you, Ned?” +</p> +<p> +“Right as rain! Why, the old codger—What’s +that?” he asked suddenly, looking ceiling-ward. +Laurie laughed. +</p> +<p> +“That’s what we wondered,” he answered. +“We jumped when we heard it first. Don’t you +know where you are?” +</p> +<p> +Ned looked around him and shook his head. +</p> +<p> +“Under the Widow Deane’s house!” +</p> +<p> +“Wha-at! But Polly said there wasn’t any cellar!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“What—what are you going to do with it?” +asked George, pointing to the chest. +</p> +<p> +“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—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276'></a>276</span> +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Say, fellows, there’s an awfully funny smell +down here,” observed George. “Sort of—sort +of sweet, like—like violets or something. Notice +it?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I noticed it before I got in here, though,” +said Ned. “Wonder what it is.” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +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 +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277'></a>277</span> +back room Polly appeared, a very pretty, bright-eyed +Polly this morning in a new Christmas +dress. +</p> +<p> +“Merry Christmas!” she cried. “Merry +Christmas, Nid! Merry Christmas, Bob! Merry +Christmas, George! Merry Christmas, Nod!” +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“Where’s your mother!” demanded Bob. +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +Bob led the way. On the outspread paper he +laid a brown envelop. “Wish you a Merry +Christmas, ma’am,” he said. +</p> +<p> +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! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278'></a>278</span> +</p> +<p> +“What are these?” she asked, finally, when the +fourth envelop lay in her lap. +</p> +<p> +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. +</p> +<p> +“<em>Nod! They aren’t—You haven’t—</em>” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, they are!” cried Laurie. “Look and see +for yourself! Open them, Mrs. Deane!” +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p> +Ten minutes later, when the first excitement +had somewhat subsided, Polly clapped her hands. +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“Of course,” agreed Bob. “And we could +hear you folks up here quite plainly. There goes +my last hope of catching a ghost!” +</p> +<p> +“How many are there to share in the money, +Mrs. Deane?” asked George. +</p> +<p> +“Dear me, I’m not quite sure.” She looked +inquiringly over her spectacles at Polly. +“Weren’t there seven, dear?” +</p> +<p> +“Eight, Mama.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, even then it isn’t so bad” said George. +“One eighth of sixty-two-thousand—” +</p> +<p> +“Seven thousand seven hundred and fifty,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279'></a>279</span> +announced Laurie, promptly. “And the bonds +may be worth more than we figured, ma’am!” +</p> +<p> +“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. +</p> +<p> +“You must invest it, dearest, and then you +won’t have to keep this place any longer, because +when I go to work—” +</p> +<p> +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?” +</p> +<p> +“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!” +</p> +<p> +“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?” +</p> +<p> +“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—” +</p> +<p> +“Gosh!” exclaimed Laurie. “The Doctor’s +tree, fellows! We’ll have to beat it! We’ll +leave the bonds here until to-morrow—eh?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280'></a>280</span> +</p> +<p> +“But I want to see the tunnel and—and everything!” +cried Polly. +</p> +<p> +“That’s so! We’ll come over after dinner. +Come on, fellows! Neddie, come away from +those tarts!” +</p> +<p> +“I was only looking,” sighed Ned. +</p> +<p> +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: +</p> +<p> + “A Merry Christmas and well-filled bins,”<br /> + “Is the hearty wish of the Turner Twins!”<br /> +</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS *** + +***** This file should be named 37209-h.htm or 37209-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/2/0/37209/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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