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diff --git a/old/37209-0.txt b/old/37209-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5779b83 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/37209-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7592 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Turner Twins + +Author: Ralph Henry Barbour + +Illustrator: C. M. Relyea + +Release Date: August 26, 2011 [EBook #37209] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: Through the secret door] + + + + + THE + TURNER TWINS + + BY + RALPH HENRY BARBOUR + + Author of “The Crimson Sweater,” “Harry’s Island,” + “Team-Mates,” etc. + + ILLUSTRATED BY + C. M. RELYEA + + NEW YORK + THE CENTURY CO. + 1922 + + + + + Copyright, 1921, 1922, by + The Century Co. + + PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. + + + + + CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I Introduces a Pair of Shoes 3 + II The Girl in the White Middy 13 + III Cakes and Ale 28 + IV Kewpie Starts Something 37 + V In the Performance of Duty 52 + VI Ned is Firm 61 + VII High School Accepts Defeat 70 + VIII In the Miser’s House 84 + IX Laurie Hears News 98 + X Polly Entertains 110 + XI Ned Speaks Out 120 + XII The Committee on Arrangements 130 + XIII Ned Gets into the Game 141 + XIV The Fete 154 + XV Ned Has an Idea 170 + XVI Polly Tells a Spook Story 179 + XVII Laurie Makes a Protest 190 + XVIII Before the Battle 201 + XIX Ned is Missing 213 + XX For the Honor of the Turners 223 + XXI The Understudy 238 + XXII The Boys Make a Present 250 + XXIII The Secret Passage 262 + XXIV A Merry Christmas 272 + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +Through the secret door Frontispiece + +“Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!” 36 + +“But don’t you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?” asked Polly 136 + +“Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.” 240 + + + + +THE TURNER TWINS + + + + +CHAPTER I—INTRODUCES A PAIR OF HEROES + + +“Jail,” said the boy in the gray flannels. + +“School,” pronounced the boy in the blue serge. + +“Bet you!” + +“No, sir, you owe me ten cents now. You didn’t pay up the last time.” + +“It’s wrong to bet for money, Ned.” + +The other set down the suitcase he was carrying and scoffed. “Yes, when +you lose,” he observed, with deep sarcasm. “That’s thirty-five cents you +owe me. You bet in Chicago that—” + +“That debt’s outlawed. Chicago’s in Michigan—” + +“Bet you!” + +“And this is New York, and so—” + +“Mighty good thing Dad sent you to school, Laurie. Chicago’s in +Illinois, you ignoramus.” + +“Is it? Well, who cares?” Laurence Stenman Turner had also deposited the +bag he was carrying on the brick sidewalk and was applying a +lavender-bordered handkerchief to a moist brow. “Just the same, that’s a +jail.” + +“If that’s a jail, I’ll eat my hat,” declared the other, + +“It’s not a school, though, and that’s flat,” was the prompt retort. + +“Huh, that was an easy one!” Edward Anderson Turner retreated to a +flat-topped stone wall bordering a well-shaded lawn and seated himself +with a sigh of relief. His companion followed suit. Behind them, grass +and trees and flower beds made a pleasant setting for a square gray +house, half hidden from the street. Overhead a horse-chestnut tree +spread low branches across the sidewalk. The quiet village street +ascended gently, curving as it went, empty in both directions. Somewhere +on a neighboring thoroughfare a scissors-grinder was punctuating the +silence with the musical _ding—dang—dong_ of bells. In a near-by tree +a locust was making his shrill clatter. Across the way, the subject of +contention, stood a large red-brick edifice, stone trimmed, many +windowed, costly and unlovely. The boys viewed it silently. Then their +glances fell to the two black suitcases on the curbing. + +“How far did that hombre say it was to the school?” asked Ned Turner, +after a minute of silence. + +“Three quarters of a mile.” + +“How far have we walked already?” + +“Mile and a half.” + +“Consequently?” + +“Said hombre was a li—was unvoracious.” + +“Un-_ver_-acious is the word, old son.” + +“What do we care? We don’t own it,” replied Laurie, cheerfully. “Want to +go on?” + +Ned shook his head slowly. “What time have you got?” he asked. + +“What time do you want?” was the flippant response. + +With a sigh, Ned pulled back his left sleeve and looked at his watch. +“It’s only about a quarter to twelve. We don’t have to get there until +six if we don’t want to.” + +“I know, but I couldn’t sit on this wall all that time! Besides, what +about lunch?” + +“I’m not very hungry,” was the sad reply. + +“That’s the trouble with having your breakfast late.” + +“That’s the trouble with eating two plates of griddle-cakes, you mean,” +retorted Laurie. “Anyway, I’m hungry if you’re not. Let’s go.” + +But he made no move, and they continued to dangle their shoes from the +wall and gaze lazily across the shady street. The scissors-grinder’s +chime died in the distance. Farther down the street the whirring of a +lawn-mower competed with the locust. + +“Upon a wall they sat them down,” murmured Ned, turning a challenging +look on his companion. + +“Lost in the wilds of Orstead Town,” added Laurie. + +Ned nodded mild approval and once more silence held. + +Save that one was dressed in gray and the other in blue, the two boys +were strikingly alike. Each was slim of body and round of face, with +red-brown hair and a short, slightly impertinent nose. Ned’s eyes were a +trifle bluer than Laurie’s and he had the advantage—if advantage it +was—of some five pounds of weight. But neither of these facts was +apparent at first glance. Faces and hands were well browned and the pair +looked extremely healthy. They were dressed neatly, with perhaps more +attention to detail than is usual in lads of their age, their attire +terminating at one end in well-polished brown shoes and at the other in +immaculate black derbies. Their age was fifteen years, three months, and +eleven days. Which, of course, leads you to the correct conclusion that +they were twins. + +“Maybe,” hazarded Laurie, presently, “we’ve lost our way.” + +“Don’t just see how we could,” Ned objected. “The old chap at the +station said we were to keep right along up Walnut Street. This is still +Walnut Street, isn’t it?” + +“I suppose so.” Laurie’s glance strayed right and left. “Must be; I +don’t see any walnuts.” + +“Guess the only ‘nuts’ are right here. Come on, let ’s hit the trail +again.” Ned slid to his feet and took up his burden. “Why the dickens we +didn’t take that carriage the fellow wanted to sell us is more than I +see.” + +“’Cause we needed the exercise. Also, ’cause we’re down to a dollar and +fourteen cents between us—unless you ’re holding out.” + +“Well, I’m not!” replied Ned, indignantly. “I paid for the breakfasts in +New York—” + +“And I paid for dinner on the diner last night—” + +“Who said you didn’t?” They went on leisurely, and presently Ned +continued: “Say, suppose we don’t like this ranch after we get +there—then what, old son?” + +Laurie considered thoughtfully. Then, “Two things we can do,” he +pronounced. “No, three. We can put up with it, change it to suit us, or +leave it.” + +“Leave it! Yes, we can! On a dollar and fourteen cents?” + +“We’ll have nearly twenty more when we cash Dad’s check and pay the term +bill. Twenty dollars would take us back to New York and buy a lot of +griddle-cakes, anyway.” + +Laurie’s voice was partly drowned by a small delivery automobile that +dashed into sight at a corner ahead and sped by with a clamor worthy of +a four-ton truck. The brothers looked after it interestedly. “That’s the +first sign of life we’ve seen,” said Ned. “Say, I do wish this street +would stop twisting this way. First thing we know, we’ll be back at the +station!” + +“Bet you I’d hop the first freight then. I’ve got a hunch that we’re not +going to care for Hillman’s School.” + +“Speak for yourself. I am. I like this town, too. It’s pretty.” + +“Oh, it’s pretty enough,” grumbled Laurie, “but it went to sleep about a +century ago and hasn’t waked up since. Here’s somebody coming; let’s ask +where the school is.” + +“It’s just a girl.” + +“What of it? She probably knows.” + +The girl appeared to be of about their own age and wore a white middy +dress with black trimming and a scarlet tie knotted below a V of +sun-browned throat. She wore no hat and her dark hair was gathered into +a single braid. As she drew near she gave the boys a quick glance of +appraisal from a pair of gravely friendly brown eyes. It was Ned who +shifted his suitcase to his left hand and raised his derby. It was +always Ned who spoke first; after that, they alternated scrupulously. + +“Would you please tell us where Hillman’s School is?” he asked. + +The girl stopped and her somewhat serious face lighted with a smile. +“It’s right there,” she replied, and nodded. + +The boys turned to the blankness of a high privet hedge behind an iron +fence. The girl laughed softly. “Behind the hedge, I mean,” she +explained. “The gate is a little way around the corner there, on Summit +Street.” + +“Oh,” said Laurie. That laugh was contagious, and he grinned in +response. “A man at the station told us it was only three quarters of a +mile, but we’ve been walking for hours!” + +“I guess it’s nearer a mile than three quarters,” answered the girl, +slowly. She appeared to be giving the matter very serious consideration +and two little thoughtful creases appeared above her nose, a small, +straight nose that was bridged by a sprinkling of freckles. Then the +smile came again. “Maybe it did seem longer, though,” she acknowledged, +“for it’s uphill all the way; and then, you had your bags. You’re new +boys, aren’t you?” + +Ned acknowledged it, adding, “Think we’ll like it?” + +The girl seemed genuinely surprised. “Why, of course! Every one likes +it. What a perfectly funny idea!” + +“Well,” said Laurie, defensively, “we’ve never tried boarding-school +before, you see. Dad didn’t know anything about Hillman’s, either. He +chose it on account of the way the advertisement read in a magazine. +Something about ‘a moderate discipline rigidly enforced.’” + +The girl laughed again. (She had a jolly sort of laugh, they decided.) +“You’re—you’re twins, aren’t you?” she asked. + +“He is,” replied Ned, gravely. + +“Why—why, aren’t you both?” Her brown eyes grew very round and the +little lines creased her nose again. + +“It’s this way,” explained Laurie. “Ned was born first, and so, as there +was only one of him, he wasn’t a twin. Then I came, and that made two of +us, and I was a twin. You see, don’t you? It’s really quite plain.” + +The girl shook her head slowly in puzzlement. “I—I’m afraid I don’t,” +she answered apologetically. “You _must_ be twins—both of you, I +mean—because you both look just like both—I mean, each other!” Then +she caught the sparkle of mischief in Ned’s blue eyes and laughed. Then +they all laughed. After which they seemed suddenly to be very good +friends, such good friends that Laurie abandoned custom and spoke out of +turn. + +“I suppose you know a lot of the fellows,” he said. + +The girl shook her head. “N—no, not any, really. Of course, I see most +of them when they come to Mother’s, but she doesn’t like me to—to +_know_ them.” + +“Of course not,” approved Ned. “She’s dead right, too. They’re a pretty +poor lot, I guess.” + +“Oh, no, they’re not, really! Only, you see—” She stopped, and then +went on a trifle breathlessly: “I guess she wouldn’t be awfully pleased +if she saw me now! I—I hope you’ll like the school.” + +She nodded and went on. + +“Thanks,” called Laurie. “If we don’t like it, we’ll change it. +Good-by.” + +“Nice kid,” observed Ned, tolerantly, as they turned the corner of the +hedge. “Wonder who she is. She said most of the fellows went to her +mother’s. Maybe her mother gives dancing lessons or something, eh?” + +“If she does, she won’t see me,” responded his brother, firmly. “No +dancing for mine.” + +“Maybe it’s compulsory.” + +“Maybe it’s esthetic,” retorted Laurie, derisively. “It makes no never +mind. I’m agin it. This must be the place. Yes, there’s a sign.” + +It was a very modest sign a-swing from a rustic post beside a broad +entrance giving on to a well-kept drive. “Hillman’s School—Entrance +Only,” it read. Laurie stopped in pretended alarm and laid a detaining +clutch on Ned’s shoulder. + +“‘Entrance Only’! Sounds as if we couldn’t ever get out again, Ned! Do +you dare?” + +Ned looked doubtfully through at the curving drive and the red-brick +building that showed beyond the border of trees and shrubbery. Then he +threw back his shoulders and set foot bravely within. + +“Come, comrade, let us know the worst!” + +Laurie, with a gesture of resignation, followed. + +“What you durst I will likewise durst!” + + + + +CHAPTER II—THE GIRL IN THE WHITE MIDDY + + +When Doctor John Hyde Hillman started a modest school for boys, on the +bank of the Hudson River, at Orstead, the town barely crept to the one +brick building that contained dormitory and recitation-rooms. But that +was nearly twenty years ago, and to-day the place is no longer isolated, +but stands well inside the residence section of the village. There are +four buildings, occupying most of an unusually large block. School Hall, +four stories in height, is a red-brick, slate-roofed edifice, whose +unloveliness has been mercifully hidden by ivy. It faces Summit Street +and contains the class-rooms, the offices, and, at one end, the +principal’s quarters. Flanking it are the two dormitories, East Hall and +West Hall. These, while of brick too, are modern and far more +attractive. Each contains sleeping-rooms to accommodate forty students, +two masters’ studies, a recreation-hall, dining-room, kitchen, and +service-rooms. Behind East Hall is the gymnasium, a picturesque +structure of random-set stone, gray stucco, and much glass. Here, +besides the gymnasium proper, is an auditorium of good size, a modest +swimming-tank, locker-room and baths, and a commodious office presided +over by Mr. Wells, the physical director. From the gymnasium steps one +looks across an attractive, well-kept quadrangle of shaded turf, +vegetable and flower gardens, and tennis-courts. + +Doctor Hillman occupies an apartment at the west end of the School Hall, +gained from the building by way of the school offices, and from without +by way of a wide porch, vine screened in summer and glassed in winter, +an outdoor living-room where, on seasonable Friday afternoons, the +doctor’s maiden sister, Miss Tabitha, who keeps house for him, serves +weak tea and layer-cake to all comers. Miss Tabitha, I regret to say, is +known among the boys as “Tabby,” with, however, no more intention of +disrespect than in alluding to the doctor as “Johnny.” Miss Tabitha’s +thin body holds a warm heart, and her somewhat stern countenance belies +her kindly ways. + +On this fifteenth day of September, shortly after twelve o’clock, Miss +Tabitha was seated on the vine-shaded porch in an erect and +uncompromising attitude, her knitting-needles clicking busily. Near by, +but a few moments before released from the office, the doctor was +stretched in a long wicker chair, a morning paper before him. At the +other end of the porch, a gate-legged table was spread for the mid-day +meal, and a middle-aged colored woman—who, when it pleased her, +answered to the name of Aunt Persis—shuffled in and out of sight at +intervals. It was Miss Tabitha who, hearing the sound of steps on the +walk, peered over her glasses and broke the silence. + +“Two more of the boys are coming, John,” she announced. + +The doctor grunted. + +“I think they are new boys. Yes, I am sure they are. And bless my soul, +John, they’re alike as two peas!” + +“Alike?” The doctor rustled the paper to indicate interest. “Well, why +shouldn’t they be? Probably they’re brothers. Let me see, weren’t those +two boys from California brothers? Of course. Turner’s the name.” + +“Well, I never saw two boys so much alike in all my born days,” Miss +Tabitha marveled. “Do you suppose they can be twins, John?” + +“It’s quite within the realm of probability,” was the reply. “I believe +that twins do occur occasionally, even in the—er—best-regulated +families.” + +“Well, they certainly _are_ twins!” Miss Tabitha laid down her work, +brushed the front of her immaculate dress, and prepared to rise. “I +suppose I had better go and meet them,” she added. + +“I don’t see the necessity for it, my dear,” the doctor protested. +“Cummins may, I think, be relied on to deal even with—er—twins.” + +“Of course; but—still—California’s such a long way—and they may feel +strange—or lonesome—” + +The doctor laughed gently. “Then by all means go, my dear. If you like, +have them out here for a few minutes. If the resemblance between them is +as striking as you seem to think, they must be worth seeing.” + +When Miss Tabitha had tripped into the house, the doctor dropped his +paper, stretched luxuriously, and, with a sigh of protest, sat up. He +was several years younger than his sister—which is to say, in the +neighborhood of forty-seven. He was a smallish man, compactly built, +with a pleasant countenance on which a carefully-trimmed Vandyke beard +made up to an extent for the lack of hair above. He wore shell-rimmed +glasses and was very near-sighted, a fact emphasized by his manner of +thrusting his head forward to eke out the deficiencies of his lenses. +This trick was apparent a minute later when, following in the tripping +footsteps of Miss Tabitha, the two boys emerged on the porch. They were +amazingly alike, the doctor decided: same height, same breadth at hip +and shoulder, same coloring, same leisurely, yet confident, ease of +movement, same expression of lively curiosity twinkling through an +almost depressingly respectful solemnity. + +“These are the Turner boys,” announced Miss Tabitha. “This is Edward and +this is—” She halted to look doubtfully from one to the other. “Or—or +perhaps _this_ is Edward and—Dear me!” + +“I’m Edward, ma’am,” said the boy in blue. + +“Well, I don’t see how you can ever be _certain_ of it!” sighed Miss +Tabitha, doubtfully. “This is Doctor Hillman.” + +They shook hands, and in a moment the boys found themselves seated side +by side and replying to the doctor’s questions. + +“You are entering with certificates from your high school principal, I +believe, young gentlemen. What year were you?” + +“Second, sir,” answered Ned. + +“And your home is in—” + +“Santa Lucia, sir,” replied Laurie. + +“California,” added Ned. + +“Well, you’re quite a ways from home. Did you make the trip alone?” + +“Yes, sir. Dad was coming with us as far as Chicago, but something +happened so he couldn’t. We didn’t have any trouble, though.” + +“Really? Well, I believe you have the distinction of residing farther +away than any of your fellows here. I don’t recall any one who lives as +far away as California; do you, sister?” + +Miss Tabitha looked doubtful and hesitated an instant before she +replied, “George Watson comes from Wyoming, I think, John.” + +“So he does,” assented the doctor, gravely; “but measured in a straight +line, my dear, California is slightly farther than Wyoming.” + +“Is it?” asked Miss Tabitha, untroubled. “I never could remember where +those western States are.” + +“You remember many more important things, however. My sister, boys, +fancied that she detected a certain resemblance between you, and even +surmised that you might be—er—twins. Doubtless she’s mistaken.” + +“No, sir,” answered Ned, more than a trace of surprise in his voice. “I +mean, we are twins, sir.” + +“Why, now that’s interesting! Looking closer—” the doctor leaned +forward and craned his head—“I believe I detect a certain slight +similarity myself!” + +There was a perceptible twinkle behind the glasses and Laurie dared a +laugh, in which the doctor and Ned joined, while Miss Tabitha murmured: +“Well! I should think you _might_!” + +“I hope you are both going to like the school,” continued the doctor. +“Of course, you’ll find our ways a little different, but we’ll try to +make you feel at home. You are the first representatives of your State +who have attended our school, and I trust that both in conduct and +industry you will bring honor to it. Mr. Cornish, your hall master, will +advise you in all matters pertaining to your studies, Other questions +may be taken to Mr. Cummins, the school secretary, whom you have +doubtless already met. But I want you always to feel at perfect liberty +to come to me at any time on any matter at all. And,” added the doctor, +with a twinkle, “if we fail you, there is still my sister, who, I assure +you, possesses more wisdom than all of us.” + +Miss Tabitha acknowledged the compliment with a little wry smile, and +Ned and Laurie arose. + +“Yes, sir,” said the former. + +“Thank you, sir,” said Laurie. + +“Luncheon is served at one in West Hall,” continued the doctor. “That’s +the dormitory behind you there. Beginning with supper to-night, you will +take your meals in your own hall, but only a few of the students have +arrived as yet, and so only one dining-room is open. I’m very glad to +have met you, young gentlemen. Mr. Cummins will direct you to your room. +Good morning.” + +Five minutes later, the Turner twins set their suitcases down on the +floor of Number 16 East Hall and looked about them. Number 16 was not +palatial as to size, but it was big enough to hold comfortably the two +single beds, the study-table, the two narrow chiffoniers, and the four +chairs that made up its furnishing. There was a generous-sized closet at +each side of the door, and two windows set close together between the +beds. Under the windows was a wide seat, lacking only pillows to make it +inviting. From the casements the boys looked over or through the topmost +branches of the maples that lined Washington Street and followed Summit +Street as it continued its ascent of the hill and presently leveled out +between a thick wood on one side and an open field on the other. + +“That must be the athletic field,” said Laurie. “See the stand there? +And the goal-posts? How do you like it?” + +“The field? Looks all right from here.” + +“I mean the whole outfit, you simp; the school and Doctor Hillman and +Miss Frosty-Face and everything.” + +“Cut out calling names, Laurie. Miss Hillman’s all right. So’s the +doctor. So’s the school. I like it. Wonder when our trunks will get +here.” + +“Half an hour ago you had a hunch you weren’t going to like it,” jeered +Laurie. “Changed your mind, haven’t you?” + +“Yes, and I’m going to change more than my mind.” Whereupon Ned opened +his bag and selected a clean shirt. “What time is it?” + +“What do you wear a watch for if you never look at it?” grumbled his +brother. “It’s ten to one, Lazy. I’m going to find a place to wash up. I +choose this side of the room, Ned.” + +Ned studied the room a moment. “No, you don’t,” he challenged. “I’ll +take this side. I’m the oldest.” “There isn’t any difference, you chump. +One side’s as good as the other.” + +“Then you won’t mind taking the other,” answered Ned, sweetly. “Run +along and find the lavatory. I think it’s at the head of the stairs. +Wonder why they put us up two flights.” + +“Guess they knew you were naturally lazy and needed the exercise.” + +Laurie dodged a pair of traveling slippers in a red-leather case and +disappeared into the corridor. + +Some ten minutes later they descended the stairway together and set out +for West Hall. Laurie drew attention to the gymnasium building, but Ned, +who had recovered his appetite, only deigned it a glance. Two boys, +luggage laden, evidently just arrived, came down the steps of School +Hall as the twins passed, and stared curiously. + +“Guess they’ve never seen twins before in this part of the world,” +grumbled Laurie. “Those chaps nearly popped their eyes out!” + +West Hall proved an exact duplicate of their own dormitory, and the +dining-room occupied all the right end of it. There were about fifteen +boys there, in age varying from fourteen to eighteen, and there was a +perceptible pause in the business of eating when the newcomers entered. +A waitress conducted them to seats at a table already occupied by three +other lads, and asked if they’d have milk or iced tea. Ned, as usual, +answered for both. + +“Iced tea, please, and lots of lemon.” + +A very stout boy, sitting across the table, sniggered, and then, +encountering Ned’s inquiring regard, said, “Guess you think you’re in +the Waldorf!” + + +“What’s the Waldorf?” asked Ned. “Don’t you get lemon with iced tea +here?” + +“Sure! but you don’t get much. Say, are you fellows—twins, or what?” + +“Twins?” repeated Laurie. “Where do you get that stuff? This fellow’s +name is Anderson and mine’s Stenman. What’s yours?” + +“Crow. Honest, is that a fact?” Crow looked appealingly at the other +occupants of the table. These, however, two rather embarrassed-looking +youngsters of fourteen or thereabouts, fixed their eyes on their plates, +and Crow turned his regard incredulously back to the twins. “Gee, you +fellows look enough alike to be—be—” He swallowed the word. “Aren’t +you even related?” + +Ned gazed speculatively at Laurie and Laurie gazed speculatively at Ned. +“We might be,” hazarded the latter. + +Laurie nodded. “If we went back far enough, we might find a common +ancestor.” + +The arrival of luncheon caused a diversion, although Crow, who was a +round-faced, credulous-looking youth of perhaps seventeen, continued to +regard them surreptitiously and in puzzlement. At last, making the +passing of the salt an excuse, for further conversation, he asked, +“Where do you fellows come from?” + +“California,” said Ned. + +“Santa Lucia,” said Laurie. + +“Well, but,” sputtered Crow, “isn’t California in Santa—I mean, isn’t +Santa—Say, you guys are joking, I’ll bet!” + +“Methinks,” observed Ned, helping himself gravely to mustard, “his words +sound coarse and vulgar.” + +Laurie abstractedly added a fourth teaspoon of sugar to his iced tea. +“Like Turk or Kurd or even Bulgar,” he murmured. + +Crow stared, grunted, and pushed his chair back. “You fellows think +you’re smart, don’t you?” he sputtered. “Bet you you are twins—both of +you!” + +Ned and Laurie looked after him in mild and patient surprise until his +broad back had disappeared from view. Then a choking sound came from one +of the younger lads, and Ned asked gently, “Now what’s your trouble, +son?” + +The boy grew very red of face and gave way to giggles. “I knew all the +time you were twins,” he gasped. + +“Did you really?” exclaimed Laurie. “Well, listen. Just as a favor to +us, don’t say anything about it, eh? You see, we’re sort of—sort of—” + +“Sort of sensitive,” aided Ned. “We’d rather it wasn’t generally known. +You understand, don’t you?” + +The boy looked as if he was very far indeed from understanding, but he +nodded, choked again, and muttered something that seemed to indicate +that the secret was safe with him. Laurie thanked him gratefully. + +After luncheon they went sight-seeing about the school, snooped through +the dim corridors and empty class-rooms of School Hall, viewed the +gymnasium and experimented with numerous apparatus, and finally, after +browsing through a flower and vegetable garden behind the recitation +building and watching two boys make a pretense of playing tennis, +returned to Number 16 in the hope of finding their trunks. But the +baggage had not arrived, and presently, since the room was none too +cool, they descended again and followed the curving drive to the right +and past a sign that said “Exit Only” and wandered west on Summit +Street. + +For the middle of September in the latitude of southern New York the +weather was decidedly warm, and neither grass nor trees hinted that +autumn had arrived. In the well-kept gardens across the way, scarlet +sage and cosmos, asters and dahlias made riots of color. + +“Hot!” grunted Ned, running a finger around the inside of his collar. + +“Beastly,” agreed Laurie, removing his cap and fanning his heated face. +“Wonder where the river is. If we had our bathing-suits, maybe we could +go for a swim.” + +“Yes, and if we had a cake of ice we could sit on it!” responded Ned, +sarcastically. “This place is hotter than Santa Lucia.” + +At the next corner they turned again to the right. Morton Street, like +so many of the streets in Orstead, refused to go straight, and after a +few minutes, to their mild bewilderment, they found themselves on Walnut +Street once more, a block below the school. + +“I’m not going back yet,” said Laurie, firmly. “Let’s find a place where +we can get something cool to drink.” + +As Walnut Street was unpromising, they crossed it and meandered along +Garden Street. The houses here appeared to be less prosperous, and the +front yards were less likely to hold lawn and flowers than dilapidated +baby-carriages. At the first crossing they peered right and left, and +were rewarded by the sight of a swinging sign at a little distance. + +What the sign said was as yet a mystery, for the trees intervened, but +Laurie declared that he believed in signs and they made their way toward +it. It finally proved to be a very cheerful little sign hung above a +little white door in a little pale-blue two-story house, the lower floor +of which was plainly devoted to commercial purposes. + + L. S. DEANE + BOOKS, TOYS, AND + CONFECTIONERY + CIRCULATING LIBRARY + LAUNDRY AGENCY + TONICS + +That is what the sign said in red letters on a white background. The +windows, many paned, allowed uncertain glimpses of various articles: +tops of red and blue and green, boxes of pencils, pads of paper, jars of +candy, many bottles of ink, a catcher’s glove, a dozen tennis-balls, +some paper kites— + +Laurie dragged Ned inside, through a screen door that, on opening, +caused a bell to tinkle somewhere in the farther recesses of the little +building. It was dark inside, after the glare of the street, and +refreshingly cool. Laurie, leading the way, collided with a bench, +caromed off the end of a counter, and became aware of a figure, dimly +seen, beyond the width of a show-case. + +“Have you anything cold to drink?” asked Ned, leaning across the +show-case. + +“Ginger-ale or tonic or something?” Laurie elaborated. + +“Yes, indeed,” replied the apparition, in a strangely familiar voice. +“If you will step over to the other side, please—” + +Ned and Laurie leaned farther across the show-case. + +It was the girl in the white middy dress. + + + + +CHAPTER III—CAKES AND ALE + + +“Hello!” exclaimed the twins, in one voice. + +“Hello,” replied the girl, and they suspected that she was smiling, +although their eyes were still too unused to the dimness of the little +store for them to be certain. She was still only a vague figure in +white, with a deeper blur where her face should have been. Treading on +each other’s heels, Ned and Laurie followed her to the other side. The +twilight brightened and objects became more distinct. They were in front +of a sort of trough-like box in which, half afloat in a pool of +ice-water, were bottles of tonic and soda and ginger-ale. Behind it was +a counter on which reposed a modest array of pastry. + +“What do you want?” asked the girl in the middy. + +“Ginger-ale,” answered Ned. “Say, do you live here?” + +“No, this is the shop,” was the reply. “I live upstairs.” + +“Oh, well, you know what I mean,” muttered Ned. “Is this your store?” + +“It’s my mother’s. I help in it afternoons. My mother is Mrs. Deane. The +boys call her the Widow. I’m Polly Deane.” + +“Pleased to know you,” said Laurie. “Our name’s Turner. I’m Laurie and +he’s Ned. Let me open that for you.” + +“Oh, no, thanks. I’ve opened hundreds of them. Oh dear! You said +ginger-ale, didn’t you! And I’ve opened a root-beer. It’s so dark in +here in the afternoon.” + +“That’s all right,” Ned assured her. “We like root-beer. We’d just as +soon have it as ginger-ale. Wouldn’t we, Laurie?” + +“You bet! We’re crazy about it.” + +“Are you sure? It’s no trouble to—Well, _this_ is ginger-ale, anyway. +I’m awfully sorry!” + +“What do we care?” asked Ned. “We don’t own it.” + +“Don’t own it?” repeated Polly, in a puzzled tone. + +“That’s just an expression of his,” explained Laurie. “He’s awfully +slangy. I try to break him of it, but it’s no use. It’s fierce.” + +“Of course _you_ don’t use slang?” asked Polly, demurely. “Who wants the +root-beer?” + +“You take it,” said Laurie, hurriedly. + +“No, you,” said Ned. “You’re fonder of it than I am, Laurie. I don’t +mind, really!” + +Laurie managed a surreptitious kick on his brother’s shin. “Tell you +what,” he exclaimed, “we’ll mix ’em!” + +Ned agreed, though not enthusiastically, and with the aid of a third +glass the deed was done. The boys tasted experimentally, each asking a +question over the rim of his glass. Then looks of relief came over both +faces and they sighed ecstatically. + +“Corking!” they breathed in unison. + +Polly laughed, “I never knew any one to do that before,” she said. “I’m +glad you like it. I’ll tell the other boys about it.” + +“No, you mustn’t,” protested Ned. “It’s our invention. We’ll call +it—call it—” + +“Call it an Accident,” suggested Laurie. + +“We’ll call it a Polly,” continued the other. “It really is bully. +It’s—it’s different; isn’t it, Laurie? Have another?” + +“Who were those on?” was the suspicious reply. + +“You. The next is on me. Only maybe another wouldn’t taste so good, eh?” + +“Don’t you fool yourself! I’ll risk that.” + +However, the third and fourth bottles, properly combined though they +were, lacked novelty, and it was some time before the last glass was +emptied. Meanwhile, of course, they talked. The boys acknowledged that, +so far, they liked what they had seen of the school. Mention of the +doctor and Miss Hillman brought forth warm praise from Polly. “Every one +likes the doctor ever so much,” she declared. “And Miss Tabitha is—” + +“Miss what?” interrupted Laurie. + +“Miss Tabitha. That’s her name.” Polly laughed softly. “They call her +Tabby,—the boys, I mean,—but they like her. She’s a dear, even if she +does look sort of—of cranky. She isn’t, though, a bit. She makes +believe she’s awfully stern, but she’s just as soft as—as—” + +“As Laurie’s head?” offered Ned, helpfully. “Say, you sell ’most +everything here, don’t you? Are those cream-puffs?” + +Ned slipped a hand into his pocket and Laurie coughed furiously. Ned’s +hand came forth empty. He turned away from temptation. “They look mighty +good,” he said. “If we’d seen those before we’d had all that +ginger-ale—” + +Polly spoke detachedly. “You can have credit if you like,” she said, +placing the empty bottles aside. “The doctor lets the boys run bills +here up to a dollar. They can’t go over a dollar, though.” + +“Personally,” observed Laurie, jingling some coins in a trousers pocket, +“I prefer to pay cash. Still, there are times—” + +“Yes, a fellow gets short now and then,” said Ned, turning for another +look at the pastry counter. “Maybe, just for—for convenience, it would +be a good plan to have an account here, Laurie. Sometimes a fellow +forgets to put any money in his pocket, you know. Does your mother make +these?” + +“Yes, the cream-cakes, and some of the others. The rest Miss Comfort +makes.” + +“That’s another funny name,” said Laurie. “Who is Miss Comfort?” + +“She’s—she’s just Miss Comfort, I guess,” replied Polly. “She lives on +the next corner, in the house with the white shutters. She’s quite old, +almost seventy, I suppose, and she makes the nicest cake in Orstead. +Everybody goes to her for cakes. That’s the way she lives, I guess.” + +“Maybe we’d ought to help her,” suggested Ned, mentally choosing the +largest and fattest cakes on the tray. “I guess we’ll take a couple. How +much are they?” + +“Six cents apiece,” said Polly. “Do you want them in a bag?” + +“No, thanks.” Ned handed one of the cakes to Laurie; “we’ll eat them +now.” Then, between mouthfuls; “Maybe you’d better charge this to us. If +we’re going to open an account, we might as well do it now, don’t you +think?” + +Polly retired behind a counter and produced a long and narrow book, from +which dangled a lead pencil at the end of a string. She put the tip of +the pencil between her lips and looked across. “You’d better tell me +your full names, I think.” + +“Edward Anderson Turner and—” + +“I meant just your first names.” + +“Oh! Edward and Laurence. You can charge us each with two bottles and +one cake.” + +“I like that!” scoffed Laurie. “Thought you were treating to cakes?” + +“Huh! Don’t you want to help Miss Comfort? I should think you’d like +to—to do a charitable act once in a while.” + +“Don’t see what difference it makes to her,” grumbled Laurie, “whether +you pay for both or I pay for one. She gets her money just the same.” + +Ned brushed a crumb from his jacket. “You don’t get the idea,” he +replied gently. “Of course, I might pay for both, but you wouldn’t feel +right about it, Laurie.” + +“Wouldn’t I? Where do you get that stuff? You try it and see.” Laurie +spoke grimly, but not hopefully. Across the counter, Polly was giggling +over the account-book. + +“You’re the funniest boys I ever did see,” she explained, in answer to +their inquiring looks. “You—you say such funny things!” + +Before she could elucidate, footsteps sounded in the room behind the +store and a tiny white-haired woman appeared. In spite of her hair, she +couldn’t have been very old, for her face was plump and unwrinkled and +her cheeks quite rosy. Seeing the customers, she bowed prettily and said +“Good afternoon” in a very sweet voice. + +“Good afternoon,” returned the twins. + +“Mama, these are the Turner boys,” said Polly. “One of them is Ned and +the other is Laurie, but I don’t know which, because they look just +exactly alike. They—they’re twins!” + +“I want to know!” said Mrs. Deane. “Isn’t that nice? I’m very pleased to +meet you, young gentlemen. I hope Polly has served you with what you +wanted. My stock is kind of low just now. You see, we don’t have many +customers in summer, and it’s very hard to get things, nowadays, even if +you do pay three times what they’re worth. Polly, those ice-cream cones +never did come, did they?” + +“Gee, do you have ice-cream?” asked Ned; eagerly. + +“Never you mind!” said Laurie, grabbing his arm. “You come on out of +here before you die on my hands. I’m sorry to tell you, ma’am, that he +doesn’t know when to stop eating. I have to go around everywhere with +him and look after him. If I didn’t, he’d be dead in no time.” + +“I want to know!” exclaimed the Widow Deane interestedly. “Why, it’s +very fortunate for him he has you, isn’t it?” + +“Yes’m,” answered Laurie, but he spoke doubtfully, for the little +white-haired lady seemed to hide a laugh behind her words. Ned was +grinning. Laurie propelled him to the door. Then, without relinquishing +his grasp, he doffed his cap. + +“Good afternoon,” he said, “We’ll come again,” + +“We know not how,” added Ned, “we know not when.” + +“Bless my soul!” murmured the Widow, as the screen door swung behind +them. + +Back at school, the twins found a different scene from what they had +left. The grounds were populous with boys, and open windows in the two +dormitory buildings showed many others. The entrances were piled with +trunks and more were arriving. A rattling taxi turned in at the gate, +with much blowing of a frenzied but bronchial horn, and added five merry +youths to the population. Ned and Laurie made their way to East Hall, +conscious, as they approached, of many eyes focussed on them from +wide-flung windows. Remarks reached them, too. + +“See who’s with us!” came from a second-floor casement above the +entrance; “the two Dromios!” + +“Tweedledum and Tweedledee!” + +“The Siamese Twins, I’ll bet a cooky!” + +“Hi, East Hall! Heads out!” + +The two were glad when they reached the shelter of the doorway. “Some +one’s going to get his head punched before long,” growled Ned, as they +started upstairs. + +“What do we care? We don’t own ’em. Let them have their fun, Neddie.” + +“I’ll let some of them have a wallop,” was the answer. “You’d think we +were the first pair of twins they’d ever seen!” + +“Well, maybe we are. How do you know? Suppose those trunks have come?” + +They had, and for the next hour the twins were busy unpacking and +getting settled. From beyond their door came sounds of much turmoil; the +noise of arriving baggage, the banging of doors, shouts, whistling, +singing; but they were otherwise undisturbed until, just when Laurie had +slammed down the lid of his empty trunk, there came a knock at their +portal, followed, before either one could open his mouth in response, by +the appearance in the doorway of a bulky apparition in a gorgeous +crimson bath-robe. + +“Hello, fellows!” greeted the apparition. “Salutations and everything!” + +[Illustration: “Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!”] + + + + +CHAPTER IV—KEWPIE STARTS SOMETHING + + +The twins stared silently and suspiciously for an instant. Then Ned made +cautious response. + +“Hello,” he said, with what must have seemed to the visitor a lamentable +lack of cordiality. + +The latter pushed the door shut behind him by the kick of one stockinged +foot, and grinned jovially. “My name’s Proudtree,” he announced. + +“You can’t blame us,” replied Laurie, coldly. + +Proudtree laughed amiably. “It is a rotten name, isn’t it? I live across +the corridor, you know. Thought I’d drop in and get acquainted, seeing +you’re new fellows; extend the hand of friendship and all that. You +understand. By Jove, Pringle was right, too!” + +“That’s fine,” said Ned, with more than a trace of sarcasm. “What +about?” + +“Why,” answered Proudtree, easing his generous bulk into a chair, “he +said you fellows were twins.” + +“Not only were,” said Laurie, gently, “but are. Don’t mind, do you?” + +“Oh, come off your horse,” begged the visitor. “Don’t be so cocky. Who’s +said anything? I just wanted to have a look. Never saw any twins +before—grown-up twins, I mean. You understand.” + +“Thought you said you came to extend the hand of friendship,” retorted +Ned, sarcastically. “Well, have a good look, partner. There’s no +charge!” + +Proudtree grinned and accepted the invitation. Ned fumed silently under +the inspection, but Laurie’s sense of humor came to his aid. Proudtree +appeared to be getting a lot of entertainment from his silent comparison +of his hosts, and presently, when Ned’s exasperation had just about +reached the explosive point, he chuckled. + +“I’ve got it,” he said. + +“Got what?” Laurie asked. + +“The—the clue! I know how to tell you apart! His eyes are different +from yours; more blue. Yours are sort of gray. But, geewhillikins, it +must be a heap of fun! Being twins, I mean. And fooling people. You +understand.” + +“Well, if you’re quite through,” snapped Ned, “maybe you’ll call it a +day. We’ve got things to do.” + +“Meaning you’d like me to beat it?” asked the visitor, good-temperedly. + +“Just that!” + +“Oh, come, Ned,” Laurie protested, soothingly, “he’s all right. I dare +say we are sort of freakish and—” + +“Sure,” agreed Proudtree, eagerly, “that’s what I meant. But say, I +didn’t mean to hurt any one’s feelings. Geewhillikins, if I got waxy +every time the fellows josh me about being fat—” Words failed him and +he sighed deeply. + +Laurie laughed. “We might start a side-show, the three of us, and make a +bit of money. ‘Only ten cents! One dime! This way to the Siamese Twins +and the Fat Boy! Walk up! Walk up!’” + +Proudtree smiled wanly. “I only weigh a hundred and seventy-eight and +three quarters, too,” he said dolorously. “If I was a couple of inches +taller it wouldn’t be so bad.” + +“I don’t think it’s bad as it is,” said Laurie, kindly. “You don’t look +really _fat_; you just look sort of—of—” + +“Amplitudinous,” supplied Ned, with evident satisfaction. + +Proudtree viewed him doubtfully. Then he smiled. “Well, I’ve got to get +rid of nearly fifteen pounds in the next two weeks,” he said, with a +shake of his head, “and that’s going to take some doing.” + +“What for?” Laurie asked. “Why destroy your symmetry?” + +“Football. I’m trying for center. I nearly made it last year, but +Wiggins beat me out. He’s gone now, though, and Mulford as good as said +last spring that I could make it this fall if I could get down to a +hundred and sixty-five.” + +“Who’s Mulford?” inquired Ned. “A fortune-teller?” + +Proudtree ignored the sarcasm. “Mulford’s our coach. He’s all right, +too. The trouble with me is, I’m awfully fond of sweet things, and +I—I’ve been eating a lot of ’em lately. But I guess I can drop fourteen +pounds if I cut out pies and candy and things. Don’t you think so?” +Proudtree appealed to Laurie almost pathetically. + +“Don’t let any one tell you anything different,” replied Laurie, +reassuringly. Ned, evidently recovered from his peevishness, asked: + +“What sort of football do they play here?” + +“Corking!” answered Proudtree. + +“I mean, Rugby or the other?” + +“Rugby!” exclaimed Proudtree, scornfully. “I guess not! We play regular +football. Nobody plays Rugby around these parts. Are you fellows going +out?” + +“Not just yet,” replied Ned. + +“He means are we going to try for the football team,” explained Laurie. +“Yes, we are, Proudtree; at least, one of us is.” + +“You?” + +“We haven’t decided yet. You see, we’ve never played your kind of +football. Back home, at high school, we played American Rugby, and it’s +quite different. But we decided that one of us had better go in for +football and the other for baseball, if only to do our duty by the +school.” + +Proudtree looked puzzled. “How are you going to decide?” he asked. + +“Oh, we’ll toss up or draw lots or something, I suppose. Maybe, though, +Ned had better play football, because I know more baseball than he does. +Still, I’m not particular.” + +“That’s the limit!” chuckled the visitor. “Say, what are your names? I +didn’t see any cards on the door.” + +“Turner. His is Laurie and mine’s Ned,” answered the latter. “Do we put +our names on the door?” + +“It’s the best way,” answered Proudtree. “Well, I’ve got to be moving. I +started to take a shower and got side-tracked. You chaps come on over +and see me and I’ll get some of the other fellows in. You want to meet +the right sort, you know. What’s your class?” + +“Lower middle, I reckon,” said Ned. “That’s what we expect.” + +“Too bad you can’t make upper. That’s mine. We’ve got a corking bunch of +fellows this year. Well, see you later. Try for Mr. Barrett’s table when +you go down. That’s the best. Maybe they’ll put you there if you bluff +it out. You understand. So long, fellows.” + +Proudtree withdrew with considerable dignity in view of his bulk, waving +a benedictory hand ere the door closed behind him. Ned shook his head. +“Sort of a fresh hombre,” he said. + +“Oh, he only meant to be friendly, I reckon,” said Laurie. “You +understand.” + +Ned laughed. “I’ll bet they’ve got a wonderful football team here if he +plays on it! By the way, maybe we’d better settle which of us is to be +the football star. I suppose they begin to practise pretty soon. I’ll be +the goat, if you like; though you had better luck with that book you +bought in Chicago. I couldn’t make head or tail of it. I never saw so +many rules for playing one game in my life!” + +“It _was_ sort of difficult,” agreed Laurie. “I dare say, though, that +you pick up the rules quick enough when you start to play. If you don’t +really mind, I think you’d better go in for football, and I’ll do the +baseball stunt. I’ve played it more than you have, you know, even if I’m +no wonder.” + +“All right!” Ned sighed. “We’ll get a bottle of arnica to-morrow. +Nothing like being prepared. How about going to see Mr. What’s-his-name +before supper about courses?” + +“Might as well, and have it over with. I’d like to know whether we’re +going to make the lower middle.” + +“Don’t see what else we can make. They can’t stick us in the junior +class. Where’s my coat? For the love of lemons, Laurie, can’t you find +anything else to sit on? Gosh, look at the wrinkles!” + +“Those aren’t wrinkles; they’re just creases. Come on!” + +Half an hour later they closed the door of Mr. Cornish’s study on the +floor below, in a chastened mood. Each carried a little buff card +whereon the instructor had tabulated an amazing number and variety of +study periods. Back in Number 16, Ned cast himself into a chair, thrust +his legs forth, and gazed disconsolately at the card. + +“I don’t see where a fellow finds time for anything but work here,” he +complained. “Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one hours a week! What do you +know about that?” + +“Well, don’t be so proud of it. I’ve got the same, haven’t I? I wonder +how many hours he thinks there are in a day?” + +“I tell you what I think,” said Ned, after a moment’s thought. “I think +he got it into his head that we’re very ambitious and want to graduate +next spring!” + +“Maybe that’s it,” agreed Laurie, gravely. “Shall we go back and tell +him he’s wrong?” + +“N-no, let’s not. He seemed a well-meaning old codger, and I wouldn’t +want to hurt his feelings—if he has any. Let’s go down and see what +they’ve got for supper.” + +Ned’s blandishments failed with the waitress, and they were established +at a table presided over by a tall and very thin gentleman, whose name, +as they learned presently, was Mr. Brock. There were four tables in the +room, each accommodating ten boys and a member of the faculty. +Diagonally across the dining-hall, the twins descried the ample Mr. +Proudtree. Another table was in charge of a pleasant-faced woman who +proved to be the school matron, Mrs. Wyman. Mr. Cornish, the hall +master, and Mr. Barrett sat at the heads of the remaining boards. + +The room was very attractive, with a fine big stone fireplace at the +farther end, and broad windows on two sides. The food proved plain, but +it was served in generous quantities; and notwithstanding that the twins +were a bit self-conscious, they managed a very satisfactory meal. + +Their fellow-students seemed to be a very decent lot. Their ages +appeared to average about sixteen, and they had the clean, healthy look +of boys who spent much of their time outdoors. At the table at which the +twins sat, four of the boys were evidently seniors, and one was as +evidently a junior. The latter looked hardly more than thirteen, though +he was in reality a year older than that, and had the features and +expression of a cherub. The twins concluded that he was a new boy and +felt a little sorry for him. He looked much too young and innocent to +face the world alone. + +No one made any special effort to engage either Ned or Laurie in +conversation, perhaps because the returning youths had so much to talk +about among themselves. Mr. Brock ate his supper in silence, save when +one of the older boys addressed him, and had a far-away and abstracted +air. Laurie saw him sweeten his tea three times, and then frown in +annoyance when he finally tasted it. + +The boy who had guessed their awful secret at luncheon sat at the next +table, and more than once Ned caught him looking across with a +half-bewildered, half-frightened expression that somehow managed to +convey the intelligence that, in spite of temptation, he had kept the +faith. Ned finally rewarded him with a significant wink, and the youth +retired in confusion behind the milk-pitcher. + +When the meal was over the twins went outside and, following the example +set by others, made themselves comfortable on the grass beyond the walk. +Near by, two older boys were conversing earnestly, and Ned and Laurie, +having exhausted their own subjects of conversation, found themselves +listening. + +“We’ve got to do it,” the larger of the two was saying. “Dave’s going to +call a meeting of the school for Friday evening, and Mr. Wells is going +to talk to them. I’ll talk too. Maybe you’d better, Frank. You can tell +them a funny story and get them feeling generous.” + +“Nothing doing, Joe. Leave me out of it. I never could talk from a +platform. Anyway, it’s the fellows’ duty to provide money. If they +don’t, they won’t have a team. They understand that—or they will when +you tell them. There’s another thing, though, Joe, that we’ve got to +have besides money, and that’s material. We’ve _got_ to get more fellows +out.” + +“I know. I’ll tell them that, too. I’m going to put a notice up in +School Hall in the morning. Mr. Cummins says there are eight new fellows +entering the middle classes this year. Maybe some of them are +football-players.” + +“Bound to be. Did you see the twins?” + +“No, but Billy Emerson was telling me about them. What do they look +like?” + +“Not bad. Rather light-weight, though, and sort of slow. They’re from +Arizona or somewhere out that way, I think. You can’t tell them apart, +Joe.” + +“Think they’re football stuff?” + +“Search me. Might be. They’re light, though. Here comes Kewpie. Gosh, +he’s fatter than ever! Hi, Kewpie! Come over here!” + +It was Proudtree who answered the hail, descended the steps, and +approached. “Hello, Joe! Hello, Frank! Well, here we are again, eh? +Great to be back, isn’t it? Have a good summer, Joe?” + +“Fine! You?” + +“Corking! I was on Dad’s yacht all through August. Saw the races and +everything. Bully eats, too. You understand.” + +“Yes,” Joe Stevenson replied, “and I understand why you’re about twenty +pounds overweight, Kewpie! You ought to be kicked around the yard, you +fat loafer. Thought you wanted to play center this fall.” + +“I’m going to! Listen, Joe, I’m only fourteen pounds over and I’ll drop +that in no time. Honest, I will. You see! Besides, it isn’t all fat, +either. A lot of it’s good, hard muscle.” + +“Yes, it is! I can see you getting muscle lying around on your father’s +yacht! I’m off you, Kewpie. You haven’t acted square. You knew mighty +well that you were supposed to keep yourself fit this summer, and now +look at you! You’re a big fat lump!” + +“Aw, say, Joe! Listen, will you?” Proudtree’s gaze wandered in search of +inspiration and fell on the twins. His face lighted. “Hello, you chaps!” +he said. Then he leaned over and spoke to Joe. “Say, have you met the +Turner brothers, Joe? One of ’em’s a swell player. Played out in North +Dakota or somewhere.” + +“Which one?” asked Joe, surreptitiously eying the twins. “Why, the—I +forget: they look so much alike, you know. I think it’s the one this +way. Or maybe it’s the other. Anyway, I’ll fetch them over, eh?” + +“All right, Kewpie.” + +Kewpie started away, paused, and spoke again. “They’re—they’re awfully +modest chaps, Joe. You’d think from hearing them talk that they didn’t +know much about the game, but don’t you be fooled. That’s just their +way. You understand.” + +“Oh, sure, Kewpie!” And when the latter had gone on his errand Joe +smiled and, lowering his voice, said to Frank Brattle: “Kewpie’s trying +to put something over. I wonder what.” + +“Proudtree tells me one of you fellows plays football,” said Joe, a +minute later, when introductions had been performed and Ned and Laurie +had seated themselves. “We need good players this fall. Of course, I +hope you’ll both come out.” + +“Ned’s the football chap,” said Laurie. “Baseball’s my line.” + +“I don’t know—” began Ned, but Laurie pinched him warningly, and he +gulped and, to Kewpie’s evident relief, made a fresh start. “I’m not +much of a player,” he said modestly, “but I’m willing to have a try at +it.” + +Kewpie darted an “I-told-you-so” glance at Joe and Frank. + +“Where do you come from, Turner?” Joe asked politely. + +“Santa Lucia, California. I was in the high school there two years. +Everything’s quite—quite different here.” Ned spoke hurriedly, as +though anxious to switch the conversation from football, and Laurie +smiled in wicked enjoyment. “The climate’s different, you know,” Ned +went on desperately, “and the country and—and everything.” + +“I suppose so,” said Frank Brattle. “What’s your position, Turner?” + +“Position?” + +“Yes; I mean, where did you play? Behind the line, I suppose, or maybe +end.” + +“Oh, yes, yes, behind the line. You see, I—I—” + +“There aren’t many fellows can play half-back the way Ned can,” said +Laurie, gravely. “He won’t tell you so, but if you ever meet any one who +saw him play against Weedon School last year—” + +“Shut up!” begged Ned, almost tearfully. + +Kewpie was grinning delightedly. Joe Stevenson viewed Ned with absolute +affection. “Half-back, eh? Well, we can use another good half, Turner, +and I hope you’re the fellow. I don’t know whether Kewpie told you that +I’m captain this year, but I am, and I’m going to try mighty hard to +captain a winning team. You look a bit light, but I dare say you’re +fast, and, for my part, I like them that way. Besides, we’ve got Mason +and Boessel if we want the heavy sort. Practice starts to-morrow at +four, by the way. How about your brother? Glad to have him come out, +too. Even if he hasn’t played, he might learn the trick. And there’s +next year to think of, you know.” + +“I think not, thanks,” answered Laurie. “One football star is enough in +the family.” + +“Well, if you change your mind, come on and have a try. Glad to have met +you. See you to-morrow—er—Turner. I want to find Dave, Frank. Coming +along?” + +The two older boys made off toward West Hall, and as soon as they were +out of hearing Ned turned indignantly on Laurie. + +“You’re a nice one!” he hissed. “Look at the hole you’ve got me in! +‘Half-back’! ‘Played against Weedon School’! What did you want to talk +that way for? Why, those fellows think I know football!” + +“Cheer up,” answered his brother, grinning. “All you’ve got to do is +bluff it through. Besides, Proudtree asked us not to let on we didn’t +know a football from a doughnut, and I had to say something! You acted +as if you were tongue-tied!” + +“Yes; that’s so—you started it!” Ned turned belligerently around. “Said +it would be a favor to you—” He stopped, discovering that Proudtree had +silently disappeared and that he was wasting his protests on the empty +air. “Huh!” he resumed after a moment of surprise, “it’s a good thing he +did beat it! Look here, Laurie, I’m in a beast of a mess. Yow know I +can’t face that captain chap to-morrow. Suppose he handed me a football +and told me to kick it!” + +“He won’t. I’ve watched football practice back home. You’ll stand around +in a circle—” + +“How the dickens can I stand in a circle?” objected Ned. + +“And pass a football for a while. Then you’ll try starting, and maybe +fall on the ball a few times, until you’re nice and lame, and after that +you’ll run around the track half a dozen times—” + +“Oh, shut up! You make me sick! I won’t do it. I’m through. I’d look +fine, wouldn’t I? I guess not, partner!” + +“You’ve got to, Ned,” replied Laurie calmly. “You can’t back down now. +The honor of the Turners is at stake! Come on up and I’ll read that +rules book to you. Maybe some of it’ll seep in!” + +After a moment of indecision Ned arose and followed silently. + + + + +CHAPTER V—IN THE PERFORMANCE OF DUTY + + +School began in earnest the next morning. Ned and Laurie were awakened +from a deep slumber by the imperative clanging of a gong. There were +hurried trips to the bath-room, and finally a descent to the +recreation-room and morning prayers. Breakfast followed in the pleasant, +sunlit dining-hall, and at half-past eight the twins went to their first +class. There wasn’t much real work performed that morning, however. +Books were bought and, being again in possession of funds, Ned purchased +lavishly of stationery and supplies. He had a veritable passion for +patent binders, scratch-pads, blank-books, and pencils, and Laurie +viewed the result of a half-hour’s mad career with unconcealed concern. + +“You’re all wrong, Ned,” he said earnestly. “We aren’t opening a +stationery emporium. Besides, we can’t begin to compete with the office. +They buy at wholesale, and—” + +“Never mind the comedy. You’ll be helping yourself to these things soon +enough, and then you won’t be so funny.” + +“That’s the only way they’ll ever get used up! Why, you’ve got enough +truck there to last three years!” + +There was one interesting annual observance that morning that the twins +witnessed inadvertently. At a little after eight the fellows began to +assemble in front of School Hall. Ned and Laurie, joining the throng, +supposed that it was merely awaiting the half-hour, until presently +there appeared at the gate a solitary youth of some fourteen years, who +came up the circling drive about as joyfully as a French Royalist +approaching the guillotine. Deep silence prevailed until the embarrassed +and unhappy youth had conquered half of the interminable distance. Then +a loud “_Hep!_” was heard, and the throng broke into a measured refrain: + +“_Hep!—Hep!—Hep!—Hep!_” + +This was in time to the boy’s dogged steps. A look of consternation came +into his face and he faltered. Then, however, he set his jaw, looked +straight ahead, and came on determinedly. + +“_Hep!—Hep!_” + +Up the steps he passed, a disk of color in each cheek, looking neither +to right nor left, and passed from sight. As he did so, the chorus +changed to a good-humored laugh of approval. Ned made inquiry of a youth +beside him. + +“Day boy,” was the explanation. “There are ten of them, you know: +fellows who live in town. We always give them a welcome. That chap had +spunk, but you wait and see some of them!” + +Two more followed together, and, each upheld in that moment of trial by +the presence of the other, passed through the ordeal with flying colors. +But the twins noted that the laughing applause was lacking. After that, +the remaining seven arrived almost on each other’s heels and the air was +filled with “_Heps!_” Some looked only surprised, others angry; but most +of then grinned in a sickly, embarrassed way and went by with hanging +heads. + +“Sort of tough,” was Ned’s verdict, and Laurie agreed as they followed +the last victim inside. + +“It looks as if day students weren’t popular,” he added. + +Later, though, he found that he was wrong. The boys who lived in the +village were accepted without reservation, but, naturally enough, seldom +attained to a full degree of intimacy with those who lived in the +dormitories. + +By afternoon the twins had become well shaken down into the new life, +had made several superficial acquaintances, and had begun to feel at +home. Of Kewpie Proudtree they had caught but fleeting glimpses, for +that youth displayed a tendency to keep at a distance. As the hour of +four o’clock approached, Ned became more and more worried, and his +normally sunny countenance took on an expression of deep gloom. Laurie +kept close at his side, fearing that courage would fail and Ned would +bring disgrace to the tribe of Turner. But Laurie ought to have known +better, for Ned was never what his fellows would have called a +“quitter.” Ned meant to see it through. His mind had retained very +little of the football lore that his brother had poured into it the +night before, but he had, at least, a somewhat clearer idea of the +general principles of the game. He knew, for instance, that a team +comprised eleven players instead of the twelve he had supposed, and that +certain restrictions governed the methods by which you might wrest the +ball from an opponent. Thus, you could not legally snatch it out of his +arms, nor trip him up in the hope that he would drop it. Ned thought the +restrictions rather silly, but accepted them. + +The athletic field, known in school parlance as the play-field, was even +larger than it had looked from their windows. It held two gridirons and +three baseball diamonds, as well as a quarter-mile track and ten +tennis-courts. There was also a picturesque and well-appointed +field-house and a fairly large grand stand. To Ned’s relief, most of the +ninety students were in attendance, though only about forty of the +number were in playing togs. Ned’s idea was that among so many he might +escape close observation. + +He had, of course, handled a football more or less, and he was possessed +of his full share of common sense. Besides, he had perhaps rather more +than his share of assurance. To his own surprise, if not to Laurie’s, he +got through the hour and a half of practice very creditably. Seasoned +candidates and novices were on the same plane to-day. There was, first +of all, a talk by the coach. Mr. Mulford was a short, broad, +good-humored man of about thirty, with a round and florid countenance, +which possibly accounted for the nickname of “Pinky” that the school had +affectionately awarded him. His real name was Stephen, and he had played +guard, and played it well, for several years with Trinity College. This +was his fourth season as football coach at Hillman’s and his third as +baseball coach. So far he had been fairly successful in both sports. + +His talk was brief and earnest, although he smiled through it all. He +wanted lots of material, but he didn’t want any fellow to report for +practice who didn’t mean to do his level best and stick it out. Those +who were afraid of either hard work or hard knocks had better save their +time and his. Those who did report would get a fair trial and no favor. +He meant to see the best team this fall that Hillman’s School had ever +turned out, one that would start with a rush and finish with a bang, +like a rocket! + +“And,” he went on, “I want this team made up the way a rocket is. A +rocket is filled with stars, fellows, but you don’t realize it until the +final burst. So we’re going to put the soft pedal on individual +brilliancy this year. It almost had us licked last fall, as you’ll +remember. This year we’re going to try hard for a well-rounded team of +hard workers, fellows who will interlock and gear together. It’s the +machine that wins, the machine of eleven parts that work all together in +oil. We’re going to find the eleven parts first, and after that we’re +going to do the oiling. All right now! Ten men to a squad. Get balls and +pass in circles. Learn to hold the ball when you catch it. Glue right to +it. And when you pass, put it where you want it to go. Don’t think that +the work is silly and unnecessary, because it isn’t. A fellow who can’t +hold a ball when it comes to him is of no use on this team. So keep your +minds right on the job and your eyes right on the ball. All right, +Captain Stevenson.” + +At least, Ned could, to quote Laurie, “stand in a circle” and pass a +football, and he did, and did it better than several others in his +squad. In the same way, he could go after a trickling pigskin and catch +it up without falling over himself, though it is possible that his +“form” was less graceful than that of one or two of his fellows. When, +later, they were formed in a line and started off by the snapping of the +ball in the hands of a world-wearied youth in a faded blue sweater +bearing a white H on its breast, Ned didn’t show up so well, for he was +almost invariably one of the last to plunge forward. The blue-sweatered +youth called his attention to the fact finally in a few well-chosen +words. + +“You guy in the brown bloomers!” he bellowed. (Of course they weren’t +bloomers, but a pair of somewhat expansive golf breeches that Ned, +lacking proper attire, had donned, not without misgivings, on Laurie’s +advice.) “Are you asleep? Put some life into it! Watch this ball, and +when you see it roll, jump! You don’t look like a cripple, but you +surely act like one!” + +Toward the end a half-dozen last-year fellows took to punting, but, to +Ned’s relief, no one suggested that he take a hand at it, and at +half-past five or thereabouts his trials came to an end. He went out of +his way, dodging behind a group on the side-line, to escape Joe +Stevenson, but ran plump into Frank Brattle instead. + +“Hello, Turner,” Frank greeted. “How did it go?” + +“All right,” replied Ned, with elaborate carelessness. “Fine.” + +“Rather a nuisance having to go through the kindergarten stunts, isn’t +it?” continued the other, sympathetically. “Mulford’s a great hand at +what he calls the fundamentals, though. I dare say he’s right, too. It’s +funny how easy it is to get out of the hang of things during the summer. +I’m as stiff as a broom!” + +“So am I,” answered Ned, earnestly and truthfully. Frank smiled, nodded, +and wandered on, and Ned, sighting Laurie hunched up in the grand stand, +joined him. “It’s a bully game, football,” he sighed, as he lowered +himself cautiously to a seat and listened to hear his muscles creak. +“Full of beneficial effects and all that.” Laurie grinned in silence. +Ned felt experimentally of his back, frowned, rocked himself backward +and forward twice, and looked relieved. “I guess there’s nothing +actually broken,” he murmured, “I dare say it’ll be all right soon.” + +“They say the first two months are the hardest,” responded Laurie, +comfortingly. “After that there’s no sensation.” + +Ned nodded. “I believe it,” he said feelingly. He fixed his gaze on the +farther goal-post and after a minute of silence remarked: + +“I’d like to catch the man who invented football!” + +He turned a challenging look on his brother. Laurie blinked and for +several seconds his lips moved noiselessly and there was a haunted look +in his gray eyes. Then, triumphantly, he completed the couplet: “It may +suit some, but it doesn’t suit all!” + +“Rotten!” said Ned. + +“I’d like to see you do any better,” answered Laurie, aggrievedly. +“There isn’t any proper rhyme for ‘football,’ anyway.” + +“Nor any reason for it, either. Of all—” + +“Hi, you fellow!” interrupted a scandalized voice. “What are you doing +up there? Have you done your two laps?” + +The speaker was a lanky, red-haired man who bristled with authority and +outrage. + +“Two laps?” stammered Ned. “No, sir.” + +“Get at it, then. And beat it in when you have. Want to catch cold, do +you? Sitting around without a blanket or anything like that!” The +trainer shot a final disgusted look at the offender and went on. + +“Gee,” murmured Ned, “I thought I was done! Two laps, he said! I’ll +never be able to, Laurie!” + +“Oh, yes, you will,” was the cheerful response. “And while you’re doing +them you can think up a better rhyme for ‘football’ than I did!” + +Ned looked back reproachfully as he limped to the ground and, having +gained the running-track, set off at a stiff-kneed jog. Laurie’s +expression relented as he watched. + +“Sort of tough on the kid,” he muttered sympathetically. Then his face +hardened again and he shook his head. “I’ve got to be stern with him, +though!” + + + + +CHAPTER VI—NED IS FIRM + + +Kewpie Proudtree obeyed the shouted invitation to enter Number 16 and +appeared with a countenance as innocent as that of an infant. “Hello, +fellows,” he said cordially, dropping into a chair with indications of +exhaustion. “How do you like it as far as you’ve gone?” + +Ned shifted in his seat at the study-table, choking back a groan, and +fixed Kewpie with a baleful look. “Listen, Proudtree,” he said sternly. +“I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” + +“With me?” Kewpie stared in amazement. “What have I done?” + +“You’ve got me into a fix, that’s what you’ve done! Didn’t you ask +me—us—last night not to let on to Stevenson that we—I—couldn’t play +football? Didn’t you say it would be a favor to you? Didn’t you say it +would be all right and—and everything?” + +“Sure! What of it?” + +“Why, you crazy galoot, you must have told him that I knew all about the +game! And you knew mighty well I didn’t! Stevenson thinks I’m a wonder, +and I don’t know a touch-down from a—a forward kick!” + +“Pass, not kick,” corrected Kewpie, patiently. “Look here, Turner— Say, +are you Ned or Laurie? Blessed if I can tell!” + +“Ned,” replied that youth, with much dignity. + +“Guess I’ll have to call you Ned, then. Can’t call you both Turner. You +understand. It was like this, Ned. You see, I want to stand in with Joe +Stevenson. It—it’s for the good of the school. If they don’t play me at +center this fall, who are they going to play? Well, Joe thought I—well, +he seemed to think I hadn’t acted just right about keeping my weight +down. He—he was sort of peeved with me. So I wanted to smooth him down +a bit. You understand. That’s why I told him what I did.” + +“Well, what _did_ you tell him?” + +“Why, I sort of—well, it wasn’t what I _said_ exactly; it was what he +thought I meant!” + +“Proudtree, you’re telling a whopper,” said Ned, sternly. “And you told +one to Stevenson, too, or I miss my guess.” + +“I only said that you were a swell football-player.” + +“For the love of lemons! What do you call that but a whopper?” + +Kewpie looked both ashamed and distressed. He swallowed hard and glanced +furtively at Laurie as though hoping for aid. But Laurie looked as +unsympathetic as Ned. Kewpie sighed dolefully. “I—I suppose it was,” he +acknowledged. “I didn’t think about that. I’m sorry, Ned, honest! I +didn’t mean to tell what wasn’t so. I just wanted to get Joe’s mind off +his troubles. You understand.” + +“Well, you got me in a mess,” grumbled Ned. “I got by all right to-day, +I suppose, but what’s going to happen to-morrow?” + +Kewpie evidently didn’t know, for he stared morosely at the floor for a +long minute. Finally, “I’ll go to Joe and fess up if—if you say so,” he +gulped. + +“I think you ought to,” responded Ned. + +“Where’s the sense in that?” demanded Laurie. “What good would it do? +Proudtree did fib, but he didn’t mean to. I mean he didn’t do it for +harm. If he goes and tells Stevenson that he fibbed, Stevenson will have +it in for him harder than ever; and he will have it in for you, too, +Ned. Maybe he will think it was a scheme that you and Proudtree hatched +together. That’s a punk idea, I say. Best thing to do is prove that +Proudtree didn’t fib.” + +“How?” asked Ned. + +“Why, Proudtree—” + +“There’s an awful lot of that ‘Proudtree’ stuff,” complained the +visitor. “Would you mind calling me Kewpie?” + +“All right. Well, Kewpie told Captain Stevenson that you are a swell +player. Go ahead and be one.” + +“Huh, sounds easy the way you say it,” scoffed Ned; “but how can I, when +I don’t know anything about the silly game? I wish to goodness you’d +taken up football instead of me!” + +“You got through to-day all right, didn’t you?” asked Laurie. “Well, +keep it up. Keep your eyes open and learn. You can do it. You’re no +fool, even if you haven’t my intellect. Besides, you’re the best little +fakir that ever came over the range.” + +“You can’t fake kicking a football,” said Ned, scathingly. + +“Look here!” exclaimed Kewpie, his round face illumined by a great idea. +“Tell you what, Ned! I’ll show you how to kick!” + +The silence that greeted the offer might have offended a more sensitive +youth, but Kewpie went on with enthusiasm. “Of course, I’m no wonder at +it. I’m a little too short in the leg and, right now, I—I’m a bit +heavy; but I used to kick and I know how it ought to be done. Say we +have a half-hour or so at it every morning for a while?” + +“Wouldn’t Stevenson know what was up?” asked Ned, dubiously. + +“He needn’t know. We’ll go over to the lot behind the grammar school. +Even if he saw us, he’d think we were having some fun.” + +“He must have a strange idea of fun,” sighed Ned. “Still, if you want to +take the trouble—” + +“Glad to! Besides, I owe you something for—for getting you in wrong. +And I can put you wise to a lot of little things about handling a ball. +We could do some passing, for instance. Wonder who’s got a ball we could +borrow. I’ll find one somewhere. You understand. Now, what hour have you +got free in the morning?” + +A comparison of schedules showed that on two mornings a week the boys +could meet at ten, and on two other mornings at ten-thirty. The +remaining days were not accommodating, however. + +“Well, even four times a week will show results,” said Kewpie, +cheerfully. “This is Thursday. We’ll have the first lesson Saturday at +ten.” + +“I hope they don’t ask me to do any kicking before then,” said Ned. + +“Not likely. You’ll get about the same stuff to-morrow as you had +to-day. You’ll get by, take my word for it. That’s settled, then.” +Kewpie referred to an ornate gold wrist-watch. “It’s after eight. You’re +going over to Johnny’s, aren’t you!” + +“Johnny’s?” repeated Laurie. “Oh, Doctor Hillman’s! I suppose so. What’s +it like?” + +“Oh, it isn’t bad. The eats are pretty fair. Anyway, he sort of likes +the fellows to go, and he’s a good sort. You’ll be introduced to the +faculty and their wives, if they have any, and meet a lot of fellows +whose names you’ll forget the next minute. Take my advice and sort of +work in toward the dining-room. Last year, the harlequin ice-cream gave +out before I could get to the table.” Kewpie sighed. “Tabby has bully +cake, too, and I’m off of cake. Isn’t that rotten luck?” + +“Awful!” laughed Ned. “You going over now?” + +“Yes. Come on and I’ll introduce you to some of the fellows you ought to +know. I’ll wash my dirty paws and meet you in two minutes.” + +The principal’s reception proved rather enjoyable. The “eats” were +excellent and, under Kewpie’s guidance, the twins reached the long table +in the dining-room well in advance of the crowd. As Laurie remarked +afterward, it was worth the amount of trouble involved just to watch +Kewpie’s mouth water as he gazed soulfully at the chocolate layer-cake. +To his credit be it narrated that he manfully resisted it. Besides +consuming much delectable food, the twins were impressively introduced +by their guide to a number of their fellow-students, the introduction +being prefaced in each case by a sort of biographical note, as: “There’s +Dan Whipple. The tall fellow with the trick collar, talking to Mrs. +Wells. Rows stroke on the crew. Senior class president. Honor man last +year. President of Attic, too. Good chap to know. Come on.” In such +manner they met at least a half-dozen school notables, most of whom were +extremely affable to the new boys. Sometimes, to be sure, the twins had +a suspicion that Kewpie was pretending a closer intimacy with a notable +than in fact existed, but he always “got away with it.” + +The only fly in the ointment of the evening’s enjoyment occurred when +Kewpie mischievously introduced them to Mrs. Pennington, the wife of the +Greek and Latin instructor, and sneaked away. Mrs. Pennington was tall +and extremely thin, and viewed the world through a pair of +tortoise-shell spectacles. She had a high voice and what Ned termed a +“very Lake Superior” manner, and, since she confined her conversation to +the benefits to be derived from an earnest study of the Latin poets, +philosophers, and historians, the twins were not happy. Fortunately, +very little was demanded from them conversationally, Mrs. Pennington +being quite competent to do all the talking. But, unfortunately, she +gave them no chance to get away. Ned descried Kewpie grinning +heartlessly from the doorway and rewarded him with a terrific and +threatening scowl. Kewpie, however, waved blandly and faded into the +night. Release came to them at last and they scurried away, neglecting, +in their hurried departure, to say good night either to the doctor or +Miss Tabitha, a breach of etiquette which probably passed unnoted by the +hosts. Back in East Hall, the twins hammered loudly at Number 15, but +Kewpie was either absent or discreet. At any rate, there was no +response, and revenge had to be postponed. + +To Laurie’s surprise, a notice on the bulletin-board in the corridor of +School Hall the following morning announced that autumn baseball +practice would begin that afternoon. He had supposed that his hour to +offer himself on the altar of school patriotism would not arrive until +the next spring; and later, when he strode down Walnut Street with Ned, +in search of football togs for the latter, he broached the subject +diplomatically. + +“Funny idea to have baseball practice this time of year, I think,” he +remarked carelessly. “Not much good in it. A fellow would forget +anything he learned by next April.” + +“Didn’t know they did,” replied Ned, uninterestedly. “Who told you +that?” + +“Oh, there was a notice on the board in School Hall. Don’t believe many +fellows go out in the fall.” + +“Thought baseball was a spring and summer game. Still, I dare say you +can play it just as well now. Seems to me I’ve heard of having spring +football practice, haven’t you?” + +“I dare say. Crazy scheme, though, playing games out of season.” + +“Ye-es.” Ned went on thoughtfully a moment Then he shot a suspicious +glance at his brother. “You going out?” he demanded. + +“N-no, I don’t think so,” answered Laurie, lightly. “There’s that +building we had the bet on the other day. We never did find out—” + +“Never you mind about that building,” interrupted Ned, severely. “I’m on +to you, partner. You’re trying to renege on baseball. Well, it doesn’t +go! You’re a baseball hero and you’ve got to get busy!” + +“Aw, Ned, have a heart! There’s plenty of time—” + +“No, sir, by jiminy! You got me slaving for the dear old school, now you +do your bit!” + +“Yes, but it isn’t fair to start the baseball season in September. You +know it isn’t.” + +“Cut out the alibis! You can get some baseball togs right now. Good +thing you spoke of it. What’ll you need?” + +“All I need is kindness,” wailed Laurie. “Ned, I don’t want to be a +hero! I don’t want to save the dear old school from defeat in the ninth +inning! I—I—” + +“You’re going to do as you agreed to,” answered Ned, grimly. “Remember +that the honor of the Turners is at stake!” + +Laurie sighed deeply. Then, “You speak of honor! Say no more. I yield,” +he declaimed dramatically. + +“You bet you do,” answered Ned, unhesitatingly. “You for the baseball +field!” + + + + +CHAPTER VII—HIGH SCHOOL ACCEPTS DEFEAT + + +A week passed, and the twins began to feel like old residents. They had +ceased being “the Turner twins” to acquaintances, although others still +referred to them so, and their novelty had so far worn off that they +could enter a classroom or walk side by side across the yard without +being conscious of the rapt, almost incredulous stares of the beholders. +To merely casual acquaintances they were known as Ned and Laurie; to a +few friends they had become Nid and Nod. Kewpie was responsible for +that. He had corrupted “Ned” into “Nid,” after which it was impossible +for Laurie to be anything but “Nod.” Laurie had demurred for a time, +demanding to be informed who Nod had been. Kewpie couldn’t tell him, +being of the hazy belief that Nid and Nod were brothers in some fairy +story he had once read, but he earnestly assured Laurie that both had +been most upright and wholly estimable persons. Anyhow, Laurie’s +objections wouldn’t have accomplished much, for others had been prompt +to adopt the nicknames and all the protests in the world wouldn’t have +caused them to drop them. These others weren’t many in number, however: +Kewpie and Thurman Kendrick and Lee Murdock and George Watson about made +up the list of them at this time. + +Kendrick was Kewpie’s room-mate, a smallish, black-haired, very earnest +youth of sixteen, which age was also Kewpie’s. Thurman was familiarly +known as “Hop,” although the twins never learned why. He was a candidate +for quarter-back on the eleven and took his task very seriously. Lee +Murdock was one of the baseball crowd, and Laurie had scraped +acquaintance with him on the diamond during a practice game. The word +“scraped” is used advisedly, for Laurie, in sliding to second base, had +spiked much of the skin from Lee’s ankle. Of such incidents are +friendships formed! Lee was two years older than Laurie, a big, rather +raw-boned fellow with a mop of ash-colored hair and very bright blue +eyes. + +George Watson was sixteen, an upper middler, and, as Laurie frequently +assured him, no fit associate for a respectable fellow. To the latter +assertion George cheerfully agreed, adding that he always avoided such. +He came from Wyoming and had brought with him a breeziness of manner +that his acquaintances, rightly or wrongly, described as “wild and +woolly.” Of the four, Kewpie and George were more often found in company +with the twins. + +There had been four lessons in kicking on an open lot behind the grammar +school, two short blocks away, and while Ned had not yet mastered the +gentle art of hurtling a football through the air, Kewpie was +enthusiastic about his pupil’s progress. “Why, geewhillikins, Nid,” he +broke forth after the fourth session, “you’re a born kicker! Honest you +are! You’ve got a corking swing and a lot of drive. You—you’ve got real +_form_, that’s what you’ve got. You understand. And you certainly do +learn! Of course, you haven’t got it all from me, because you’ve been +punting in practice two or three times, but I take some of the credit.” + +“You’ve got a right to,” responded Ned. “You’ve taught me a lot more +than I’ve learned on the field. Gee, if it hadn’t been for you I’d been +afraid even to try a punt over there! You ought to see the puzzled way +that Pope looks at me sometimes. He can’t seem to make me out, because, +I suppose, Joe Stevenson told him I was a crackajack. Yesterday he said, +‘You get good distance, Turner, and your direction isn’t bad, but you +never punt twice the same way!’” + +“Well, you don’t,” laughed Kewpie. “But you’ll get over that just as +soon as I can get it into your thick head that the right way’s the best +and there’s only one right!” + +“I know,” said Ned, humbly. “I mean to do the way you say, but I sort of +forget.” + +“That’s because you try to think of too many things at once. Stop +thinking about your leg and just remember the ball and keep your eyes on +it until it’s in the air. That’s the secret, Nid. I heard Joe telling +Pinky the other day that you’d ought to shape up well for next year.” + +“Next year!” exclaimed Ned, dubiously. “Gee! mean to tell me I’m going +through all this work for next year?” + +“Well, you might get a place this year, for all you know,” replied +Kewpie, soothingly. “Just keep on coming, Nid. If you could only—well, +if you had just a bit more _speed_ now, got started quicker, you know, +Pinky would have you on the second squad in no time, I believe. You’re +all right after you get started, but—you understand.” + +“I do the best I know how,” sighed Ned. “I suppose I am slow on the +get-away, though. Corson is always calling me down about it. Oh, well, +what do I care? I don’t own it.” + +“I’d like to see you make good, though,” said Kewpie. “Besides, remember +the honor of the Turners!” + +Ned laughed. “Laurie will look after that. He’s doing great things in +baseball, if you believe him, and it wouldn’t be right for us to capture +all the athletic honors.” + +“You make me weary!” grunted Kewpie. “Say, don’t you California chaps +ever have any pep?” + +“California, old scout, is famous for its pep. We grow it for market out +there. Why, I’ve seen a hundred acres planted to it!” + +“You have, eh? Well, it’s a big shame you didn’t bring a sprig of it +East with you, you lazy lummox! Some day I’m going to drop a cockle-burr +down your back and see if you don’t show some action!” + +Hillman’s started her season on the following Saturday with Orstead High +School. As neither team had seen much practice, the contest didn’t show +a very high grade of football. The teams played four ten-minute +quarters, consuming a good two hours of elapsed time in doing it, their +members spending many precious moments prone on the turf. The weather +was miserably warm for football and the players were still pretty soft. + +Kewpie derived great satisfaction from the subsequent discovery that he +had dropped three quarter pounds and was within a mere seven pounds of +his desired weight. Had he played the game through instead of yielding +the center position to Holmes at the beginning of the last half, he +might have reached his goal that afternoon. Ned and Laurie wounded him +deeply by declaring that there was no apparent improvement in his +appearance. + +Ned saw the game from the substitutes’ bench, and Laurie from the stand. +High School turned out a full attendance and, since Hillman’s was +outnumbered two to one, “O. H. S.” colors and cheers predominated. +Laurie sat with Lee Murdock, who, as a baseball enthusiast, professed a +great scorn of football. (There was no practice on the diamond that +afternoon.) Lee amused himself by making ridiculous comments in a voice +audible for many yards around. + +“That’s piffle!” he declared on one occasion, when the ground was strewn +with tired, panting players. “The umpire said, ‘Third down,’ but if they +aren’t three quarters down, I’ll treat the crowd! The trouble with those +fellows is that they didn’t get enough sleep last night. Any one can see +that. Why, I can hear that big chap snoring ’way over here!” Again, +“That brother of yours is playing better than any of them,” he asserted. + +“Ned? Why, he isn’t in! He’s on the bench down there.” + +“Sure! That’s what I mean. You don’t see him grabbing the ball away from +Brattle and losing two or three yards at a time. No, sir; he just sits +right there, half asleep, and makes High School _work_ for the game. +Every time he doesn’t take the ball, Nod, he saves us three or four +yards. He’s a hero, that’s what he is. If Mulford would get all the rest +of them back on the bench, we might win.” + +“You’re crazy,” laughed Laurie. + +During the intermission, Laurie’s wandering gaze fell on two girls a +dozen seats away. One, whom he had never seen before, displayed a +cherry-and-black pennant and belonged unmistakably to the high school +cohort. She was a rather jolly-looking girl, Laurie decided, with a good +deal of straw-colored hair and a pink-and-white skin. Her companion was +evidently divided as to allegiance, for she had a cherry-and-black +ribbon pinned on the front of her dress and wore a dark-blue silken +arm-band. For a moment Laurie wondered why she looked familiar to him. +Then he recognized her as Polly Deane. The two girls appeared to be +alone, although some boys in the row behind were talking to them. + +So far, the twins had not been back to the little shop on Pine Street, +but Laurie resolved now that he would drop around there very soon and +pay his bill before his money was gone. After paying the school bill for +the first half-year, he and Ned had shared slightly more than twenty +dollars, but since then there had been many expenses. They had each had +to purchase playing togs and stationery, and, finally, had donated two +dollars apiece to the football fund at the mass-meeting Friday night of +the week before. + +Viewed from a financial standpoint, that meeting hadn’t been a great +success, and it was no secret that, unless more money was forthcoming, +the team would be obliged to cancel at least one of its away-from-home +games. But it had resulted in bringing out a big field of candidates, +and there had been a lot of enthusiasm. The next day, viewing his +reduced exchequer, Laurie had ruefully observed that he guessed a dollar +would have been enough to give, but Ned had called him a “piker” and a +“tight-wad” and other scornful things. Yesterday Ned had borrowed half a +dollar, which was more than a fourth of Laurie’s remaining cash; and the +first of October was still a week distant. Realizing the latter fact, +Laurie changed his mind about settling his account at the Widow Deane’s. +But, he reflected, with another friendly glance in Polly’s direction, it +wouldn’t be right to withhold his trade from the store. And he wasn’t +anywhere near the limit of indebtedness yet! + +Two listless periods followed the intermission, the only inspiring +incident coming when, near the end of the third quarter, Pope, Hillman’s +full-back, foiled in his attempt to get a forward pass away, smashed +past the enemy and around his left end for a run that placed the pigskin +six yards short of the last white line. From there the home team managed +to push its way to a touch-down, the third and last score of the day. +The final figures were 10 to 7 in Hillman’s favor, and neither side was +very proud of the outcome. + +Ned returned to Number 16 half an hour later in a most critical frame of +mind, and spent ten minutes explaining to Laurie just when and how the +school team had failed. At last Laurie interrupted him to ask, “Have you +told this to Mr. Mulford, Ned?” + +“Mr. Mulford? Why—oh, go to the dickens!” + +“Seems to me he ought to know,” said Laurie, gravely. + +“That’s all right. You can be sarcastic if you like, but I’m talking +horse-sense. You see a lot of things from the bench that you don’t see +from the stand. Besides, you’ve got to know football to understand it. +Now you take—” + +“I beg your pardon! Did you say anything about understanding football?” + +“Well, I understand a lot more about it than you do,” replied the other, +warmly. “I’ve been playing it a week, haven’t I?” + +“Sure, but I’ll bet you don’t know how much a safety counts!” + +“I don’t need to. That’s up to the referee. But I know some football, +just the same. And I punted forty-seven yards yesterday, too!” + +“In how many punts?” inquired Laurie, innocently. + +Ned threw a book at him and the subject was closed. + +In his own line, baseball, Laurie was not setting the world on fire. He +was gaining a familiarity with the position of center fielder on the +scrub nine, and batting practice was at least not doing him any harm. +But he certainly had displayed no remarkable ability; and if Ned had +gained a notion to the contrary, it was merely because it pleased Laurie +to fool him with accounts of imaginary incidents in which he, Laurie, +had shone most brilliantly. As Ned knew even less about baseball than he +had known of football, almost any fairy-tale “went” with him, and Laurie +derived much amusement thereby; decidedly more, in fact, than he derived +from playing! + +On Monday morning Laurie dragged Ned over to the Widow Deane’s for +ginger-ale, professing a painful thirst. The Widow greeted them +pleasantly, recalling their names, and provided them with the requested +beverage. Laurie’s thirst seemed to have passed, for he had difficulty +in consuming his portion. When, presently, he asked politely about +Polly, it developed that that young lady was quite well enough to attend +high school as usual. Laurie said, “Oh!” and silently promised himself +that the next time he got thirsty it would be in the afternoon. Ned ate +two doughnuts and was hesitating over raspberry tarts when Laurie +dragged him away. “Can’t you think of anything but eating?” demanded the +latter, disgustedly. Ned only blinked. + +“Ginger-ale always makes me hungry,” he explained calmly. + +Two days later, the twins awoke to cloudy skies, and by mid-forenoon a +lazy drizzle was falling, which later turned to a downright tempest of +wind and rain. At four the baseball candidates scooted to the +field-house for cover, although, peering forth through a drenched +window, Laurie discerned the football-players still at work. Lee Murdock +said he guessed the equinoctial storm had come, and that if it had +there’d be no practice for a couple of days. Laurie tried to look +broken-hearted and failed dismally. Taking advantage of a lull in the +downpour, he and Lee, with many of the others, set forth for school. +They were still far short of the gymnasium, however, when the torrent +began again, and it was a wet, bedraggled, and breathless crowd that +presently pushed through the door. + +George Watson, who had been playing tennis before the rain started, was +philosophically regarding a pair of “unshrinkable” flannel trousers +which, so he declared, had already receded an inch at the bottoms. It +was George who suggested that, after changing to dry clothing, they go +over to the Widow’s and have ice-cream at his expense. Not possessing a +rain-coat of his own, Laurie invaded Number 15 and borrowed Kewpie’s. It +was many sizes too large, but it answered. The Widow’s was full when he +and George and Lee got there, and the pastry counter looked as though it +had been visited by an invading army. There was still ice-cream, though, +and the three squeezed into a corner and became absorbedly silent for a +space. + +Polly was helping her mother, and Laurie exchanged greetings with her, +but she was far too busy for conversation. Lee treated to a second round +of ice-cream, and afterward Laurie bought a bag of old-fashioned +chocolates. He hoped Polly would wait on him, but it was Polly’s mother +who did so and asked after his brother as she filled the paper sack. + +“I do hope you’re looking after him and that he hasn’t eaten those +raspberry tarts yet,” she said pleasantly. + +“Yes’m,” said Laurie. “I mean, he hasn’t.” He thought it surprising that +the Widow Deane was able to tell them apart. Even Kewpie and George +frequently made mistakes. + +It was still pouring when they went out again, and they hurried up the +street and around the corner into School Park, their progress somewhat +delayed by the fact that Laurie had placed the bag of candy in an +outside pocket of Kewpie’s capacious rain-coat and that all three had +difficulty in finding it. Lee had just popped a big chocolate into his +mouth and George was fumbling into the moist bag when the clouds opened +suddenly and such a deluge fell as made them gasp. In distance they were +but a long block from school; but with the rain descending on them as +though poured from a million buckets, their thought was of immediate +shelter. + +“Wow!” yelped Lee. “Let’s get out of this! Here’s a house. Come on!” + +There was an opening in a high hedge, and a short brick walk from which +the drops were rebounding knee-high, and, seen dimly through the deluge, +a porch at the end of it. They reached it in what Laurie called three +leaps and a jump, and, under shelter of the roof, drew breath and looked +back into the gray welter. The park was invisible, and even the high +lilac hedge was only a blurred shape. Lee had to shout to make himself +heard above the rain. + +“Wonder who lives here,” he said. “I don’t remember this house.” + +“Sure you do!” said George. “This is the Coventry house. We’re on the +side porch.” + +“Oh!” Lee gazed doubtfully into the rain. “Well, anyway, it’ll do. Gee, +my trousers are soaked to the knees! How long do you suppose this will +keep up?” + +“You said for two days,” answered Laurie, cheerfully, trying to dry his +neck with a moist handkerchief. + +“I mean this shower, you chump!” + +“Call this a shower? What’s a cloud-burst like in this part of the +country, then?” + +“We don’t have such things,” answered George, who was peering through a +side-light into the dim interior. “Say, I thought this place was empty,” +he continued. “I can see chairs and a table in there.” + +“No; some one rented it this fall,” said Lee. “I noticed the other day +that the front door was open and the grass had been cut. I wouldn’t want +to live in the place, though.” + +“Why?” inquired Laurie. + +But, before any answer came, the door was suddenly opened within a few +inches of George’s nose and a voice said: + +“You fellows had better come inside until it’s over.” + + + + +CHAPTER VIII—IN THE MISER’S HOUSE + + +The invitation came from a boy of about sixteen, a slim, eminently +attractive chap, who smiled persuasively through the aperture. Laurie +knew that he had seen him somewhere, but it was not until they had +followed, somewhat protestingly, into a hallway and from there into a +large and shadowy drawing-room that he recognized him as one of the day +pupils. Lee, it seemed, knew him slightly and called him by name. + +“We oughtn’t to come in here,” Lee apologized. “We’re soaking wet, +Starling.” + +“It doesn’t matter,” answered their host. “Wait till I find a match and +we’ll have a fire here.” + +“Don’t bother, please,” George protested. “We’re going right on in a +minute.” + +“Might as well get dry a bit first. The fire’s all laid.” The boy held a +match at the grate and in a moment the wood was snapping merrily. “Pull +up some chairs, fellows. Here, try this. Some rain, isn’t it?” + +“Rather,” agreed Lee. “By the way, do you know Turner? And Watson?” The +three boys shook hands. “I didn’t know you lived here,” Lee continued. +“Saw the house had been taken, but didn’t know who had it. Corking big +place, isn’t it?” + +Starling laughed. “It’s big all right, but it’s not so corking. Let me +have that rain-coat, Turner. The rooms are so frightfully huge that you +get lost in them! I have the bedroom above this, and the first morning I +woke up in it I thought I was in the Sahara Desert! This was the only +place we could find, though, that was for rent, and we had to take it. +Dad came here on short notice and we didn’t have much time to look +around. Pull up closer to the fire, Watson, and get your feet dry. I’ve +got some slippers upstairs if you want to take your shoes off.” + +“No, thanks. I guess the wet didn’t get through. I’ve seen you over at +school, haven’t I?” + +“Yes, I’m a day boy; one of the ‘Hep, heps!’” + +Lee grinned. “Sort of a mean trick, that, Starling, but they always do +it every year.” + +“Wish I’d known about it beforehand. I’d have sneaked over a fence and +through a window. It was fierce! I was the last fellow to get in this +fall. Dad made application in August, and some fellow who had entered in +the spring changed his mind; otherwise I’d have had to go to the high +school.” + +“That would have been an awful fate,” said George, gravely. + +“Oh, I wouldn’t have minded. I like Hillman’s, though. Do any of you +chaps play tennis?” + +“I try to,” answered George. + +“Wish you’d give me a game some day. Tennis is about the only thing I +know much about, and I saw some dandy courts over at the field.” + +“Glad to,” George assured him. “Any day you like, Starling. I’m not much +of a player, though, so don’t expect a lot.” + +“Guess you’re good enough to handle me,” laughed the other. “I like it +better than I can play it. How about to-morrow afternoon?” + +“Suits me,” answered George. “Three-thirty?” + +“Fine! I’m going to get Dad to build a court in the yard here, if I can. +There’s lots of room, but there’s a tumble-down old grape-arbor right in +the middle.” + +“Yes, there’s surely room enough,” agreed Lee. “We used to come over +here last fall and get pears—there’s a dandy seckel tree back there. +I’d say there was room for two or three courts if some of the trees were +cut down.” + +“What could he do with three of them?” asked Laurie. + +“I suppose we’d have to get the owner’s permission to even take that +rickety old arbor down,” Starling said. + +“I thought the owner was dead,” Lee observed. + +George chuckled. “If he was dead he wouldn’t be the owner, you simple! +Old Coventry died three or four years ago, but somebody owns the place, +of course. If what they tell of the old chap is true, it must have +broken his heart to know he couldn’t take the place with him! Maybe he +took his money with him, though. Anyway, the story goes that he had +slathers of it, and they could only find a couple of thousands when he +died.” + +“What was he, a miser?” asked Starling. + +“Yes, one of the sort you read about in the stories. Lived here all +alone for years and years with only a negro servant. They say you could +never see a light in the place at night, and he never went off the front +porch more than a couple of times a year. Then a carriage came for him +and he got in and went down to the boat. He didn’t use the train because +it cost too much. Of course, when he died, folks expected to find that +he had left a mint of money; but all any one could discover was about +two thousand dollars in one of the banks here—that, and this property. +The heirs, whoever they were, pretty near tore the insides out of the +house, they say, looking for coin, but they didn’t get any thing.” + +“And at night the old codger’s ghost walks around,” added Lee; “and if +you follow him, he’ll take you to the place the money’s hidden.” + +“Honest?” exclaimed Starling, joyfully. “Gosh, that’s great! I always +wanted to live in a house with a ghost.” + +“I’m sorry, then,” said George, “for I just made that part up.” + +“_You_ did?” Lee looked incredulous. “Where do you come in? I’ve heard +that ever since I came here.” + +“No, sir; you may have heard the rest of the story, but not the part +about the ghost. I wrote the yarn up in my junior year for an English +comp., and tacked on the ghost feature as a sort of added climax. Got +good marks, too, and the Orstead paper published the thing. I’ll show it +to you, if you like.” + +Lee looked unconvinced still, and Starling disappointed. “Well, it’s a +good story, anyway, and makes the place more interesting. Some day I’ll +have a look myself for the hidden millions.” + +“Guess the old chap never had that much,” said George. “Thirty or forty +thousand is about what he was supposed to have salted away.” + +“Scarcely worth bothering about,” observed Laurie, with a yawn. + +“But look here, what became of the servant?” asked Starling. “Maybe he +got the dough and made off with it.” + +“Lots of folks thought that,” replied George; “but the theory didn’t pan +out for a cent. The negro stuck around here for quite a while and then +ambled off somewhere. He claimed that old Coventry died owing him a +month’s wages, and tried to get some one to pay him, but I guess he +never got any of it, if it was really owing.” + +“Where did he go to?” asked Starling. + +“I don’t know. New York City, I think.” + +“I’ll bet he either had the money or knew where it was,” declared +Starling, with conviction. “Don’t you see, fellows, he did just what any +one would do in his case? He stuck around so he wouldn’t be suspected. +If he’d gone right off, folks would have said he was trying to avoid +being asked about the money. And then he faked up the yarn about the old +gentleman owing him wages. A first-class detective would have got trace +of the coin, I’ll wager!” + +“You’ve been reading _Sherlock Holmes_,” laughed Lee. “Why don’t you +follow up your clue, find the negro, and restore the lost wealth to the +starving heirs?” + +“Huh! If he did get the money, he’s where even _Sherlock Holmes_ +wouldn’t find him by this time. Some one should have followed the fellow +and kept watch on him right then. How old was he, Watson?” + +“About fifty, I guess. They say he had white whiskers, anyway. Oh, he +didn’t know any more than he said he did. He was all right. He had been +with old Coventry for years and years, one of those old-time family +servants, you know, honest and faithful. Why, he went on something +fierce when the old chap died!” + +“Say, how much of this guff is real and how much of it is English +composition?” asked Lee, suspiciously. “How do you know the negro took +on when the old codger died? You weren’t here.” + +“Maybe I heard it,” replied George, grinning. + +“Yes, and maybe you just made it up, like the stuff about the ghost,” +Lee retorted sarcastically. “I’ve heard the yarn two or three times, but +I never heard that the negro had white whiskers or that he went into +mourning!” + +“It’s a fact, though,” declared the other, warmly. “I prepared mighty +well on that comp.; talked with half a dozen persons who knew the story. +Got most of the stuff from the Widow Deane, though. Old Coventry had +been dead only about two years then and folks were still talking about +him. The Widow doesn’t think the old chap had nearly as much money as he +was supposed to have.” + +“She has the little store around on the back street?” asked Starling. + +“Yes. She took that as her share.” + +“Her share of what?” demanded Lee. + +“Why, of the estate. Old Coventry owned the whole half-block right +through from Walnut Street to Pine. She rented that house from him until +he died; paid a good stiff price, too; and then, when the estate was +finally settled, she took it as her share, although she had to pay the +other heirs something because they claimed that it was worth more than +she had a right to.” + +“Look here,” said Lee, “do you mean that the Widow Deane was one of old +Coventry’s heirs?” + +“Of course! Didn’t you know it? She was a half-sister. She lived over in +New Jersey, she told me, until her husband died. Then she wrote to old +Coventry, asking him to help her because she didn’t have much money, and +he invited her to come here. She thought he meant to give her a home +with him; but when she got here, the best he would do was rent her that +little house around on Pine Street and stock it up for her as a store. +Then he built a fence between the two places. It used to be open right +through.” + +“Gee, you certainly know a lot of ancient history!” marveled Lee. + +“I believe in being thorough,” laughed George. “When I tackle a subject +I get a fall out of it.” + +“So when I trail the murderer—I mean the thief,” reflected Starling, +“I’ll be doing the old lady back there a good turn, won’t I?” + +“Surest thing you know!” agreed George. + +“And she needs the money, I guess. I don’t believe she makes a fortune +out of that emporium. And that daughter of hers is a nice kid, too.” + +“How many other heirs are there to share in the money when Starling +finds it?” asked Laurie. + +“I don’t know. Quite a bunch, I believe. The old chap wasn’t married, +and the heirs are nephews and nieces and things like that. The Widow’s +the only one living around here, though.” + +“Well, when I do find it,” laughed Starling, “I’ll keep it quiet and +hand it all over to the Widow.” + +“He wants to make a hit with Polly,” said Lee. “He’s a fox.” + +“I’ve never seen her,” Starling denied. + +“Well, she’s a mighty pretty girl,” George avowed. “If you don’t believe +me, ask Nod.” + +Laurie looked intensely innocent and very surprised. “Why me?” he asked +blandly. + +George shook his head, grinning. “You can’t get away with it, son! Think +I didn’t see you making love to the old lady this afternoon?” + +“Well,” Laurie laughed, “I thought it was Polly you spoke of.” + +“Sure, but she was busy waiting on a bunch of juniors and so you made up +to the Widow. We saw you smirking and talking sweet to her, didn’t we, +Lee? Butter wouldn’t have melted in the dear lamb’s mouth. And I thought +the old lady seemed rather taken with him, too; didn’t you, Lee?” + +“Rather! It was positively sickening! Talk about foxes—” + +“Oh, dry up and blow away!” muttered Laurie. “Say, the rain’s stopped +now—pretty nearly.” + +“Wants to get away from the embarrassing subject,” George confided to +Starling. “Well, I never desert a pal, Nod. Come on, we’ll trot along. +Much obliged for taking us in, Starling. Hope we haven’t ruined your +rug. Half-past three to-morrow, if the courts are dry. I’ll meet you in +School Hall.” + +“Glad to have you drop around at my room some time,” said Lee. “I’m in +West; Number 7.” + +“Same here,” added Laurie; “16 East Hall. Thanks, Starling.” + +“You’re welcome. Come in again, fellows. When I get that tennis-court +fixed up, we’ll have some fun here. You needn’t wait for that, though. +I’d like you to meet my father and aunt. No one’s at home just now. I +say, better take a couple of umbrellas.” + +“Not worth it, thanks,” answered Lee. “After that deluge, this is just +an April shower. So long!” + +Lee’s statement wasn’t much of an exaggeration, and the three continued +their way to the school unhurriedly. George remarked gloomily that it +didn’t look awfully promising for tennis on the morrow, adding: “I’ll +bet that chap’s a corking good player, too.” + +“Maybe you’ll learn a little about the game from him,” said Laurie, +sweetly. “How old do you say he is?” + +“Starling? Oh, seventeen, maybe. He’s in upper middle.” + +“Sixteen, more likely,” said George. “He seems a decent sort, eh? How +did you come to know him?” + +“I didn’t really know him. He’s in some of my classes and we’ve spoken a +couple of times. Rather a—an interesting kind of chap. Wonder what his +father does here. Funny place for him to come to. He spoke of an aunt, +but didn’t say anything about a mother. Guess she’s dead. Auntie +probably keeps house for them.” + +As they entered the gate George chuckled and Laurie asked, “What’s your +trouble, Old-Timer!” + +“I was just thinking what a joke it would be if Starling took that stuff +seriously about the hidden money and began to hack away the woodwork and +dig up the cellar floor!” + +“Why, wasn’t it true?” + +“Sure! At least, as true as anything is that folks tell. You know, Nod, +after being repeated a couple of hundred times a story sort of grows.” + +Lee grunted. “After some smart Aleck has written it up as an English +comp. its own mother wouldn’t know it! The real joke would be for +Starling to wreck the woodwork and find the money!” + +“No, that wouldn’t be a joke,” said George, “that would be a movie! Come +on! It’s starting again! Last man in East buys the sodas! Come on, Lee!” + +Lee and Laurie ran a dead heat, and all the way to George’s room, on the +second floor, each sought to shift to the other the responsibility of +providing the soda-water for the trio. In the end, George appointed +himself referee and halved the responsibility between them. + +When, twenty minutes later, Laurie climbed onward to Number 16, he found +a very disgruntled Ned curled up in the window-seat, which was now +plentifully supplied with cushions. “Where’ve you been all the +afternoon?” he demanded aggrievedly. + +“Many places,” replied Laurie, cheerfully. “Why the grouch?” + +“You’d have a grouch, I reckon, if you’d messed around with a soggy +football for almost two hours in a cloud-burst!” + +“Did you—er—get wet?” + +“Oh, no, I didn’t get wet! I carried an umbrella all the time, you silly +toad! Or maybe you think they roofed the gridiron over for us?” + +“Well, I got sort of water-logged myself, and don’t you let any one tell +you any different! Wait till I return this rain-coat and I’ll tell you +about it.” + +“I’ve got troubles enough of my own,” grumbled Ned, as Laurie crossed +the corridor. + +Kewpie wasn’t in when the borrowed garment was returned, but Hop +Kendrick was, and Hop said it was quite all right, that Ned was welcome +to anything of Kewpie’s at any time, and please just stick it in the +closet or somewhere. And Laurie thanked him gratefully and placed the +rain-coat, which wasn’t very wet now, where he had found it. And the +incident would have ended then and there if it hadn’t started in to rain +cats and dogs again after supper and if Kewpie hadn’t taken it into his +head to pay a visit to a fellow in West Hall. Which is introductory to +the fact that at eight o’clock that evening, while Ned and Laurie were +conscientiously absorbed in preparing to-morrow’s Latin, a large and +irate youth appeared at the door of Number 16 with murder in his eyes +and what appeared to be gore on his hands! + +“That’s a swell way to return a fellow’s coat!” he accused. + +He brandished one gory hand dramatically, and with the other exhumed +from a pocket of the garment a moist and shapeless mass of brown paper +and chocolate creams. “Look at this!” he exhorted. “It—it’s all over +me! The pocket’s a regular glue-pot! Ugh!” + +Laurie looked and his shoulders heaved. + +“Oh, Kewpie!” he gurgled, contrition—or something—quite overmastering +him. “I’m s-s-so s-s-sorry!” + +Kewpie regarded him scathingly a moment, while syrupy globules detached +themselves from the exhibit and ran along his wrist. Finally he +exploded: “Sorry! Yes, you are!” + +Whereupon the door closed behind him with an indignant crash, and +Laurie, unable longer to contain his sorrow, dropped his head on his +books and gave way to it unrestrainedly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX—LAURIE HEARS NEWS + + +October arrived with the first touch of cooler weather, and the football +candidates, who had panted and perspired under summer conditions for a +fortnight, took heart. Among these was Ned. Laurie, who at first had had +to alternate sympathy and severity in order to keep his brother’s +courage to the sticking-point, now found that his encouragement was no +longer needed. Ned was quite as much in earnest as any fellow who wore +canvas. Probably he was not destined ever to become a mighty player, for +he seemed to lack that quality which coaches, unable to describe, call +football instinct. But he had made progress—surprising progress when it +is considered that he had known virtually nothing of the game two weeks +before. + +Laurie, whose afternoons were still absorbed by baseball, viewed Ned’s +efforts as something of a joke, much to the latter’s chagrin, and +continued to do so until a chance conversation with Thurman Kendrick +opened his eyes. Hop had come across one forenoon to borrow some notes +and had tarried a moment to talk. In those days, when Hop talked he +talked of just one subject, and that subject was football, and he +introduced it to-day. + +“We’ve got to do better to-morrow than we did last week,” he said +earnestly, “or we’ll get licked hard. Cole’s was fairly easy, but +Highland is a tough customer. Our trouble so far has been slowness, and +Highland’s as fast as they make them. Somehow, Mulford doesn’t seem able +to get any pep into our bunch. The line isn’t so bad, but the back +field’s like cold glue.” + +“That’s up to the quarter, isn’t it?” asked Laurie, anxious to prove +himself not absolutely ignorant of the subject. + +“Yes, partly; but it’s up to the coach first. If the backs aren’t used +to working fast, the quarter can’t make them. Frank Brattle’s a good +quarter, Nod. I sort of wish he wasn’t so good!” + +“Meaning you’d have a better chance of swiping his job?” smiled Laurie. + +“Oh, I’ll never do that; but if he wasn’t so good I’d get in more often. +The best I can hope for this year is to get in for maybe a full period +in the Farview game. Anyway, I’ll get my letter, and maybe next year +I’ll land in the position. Frank’s a senior, you know.” + +“Is he? I haven’t seen much practice so far. Baseball keeps me pretty +busy.” + +“How are you getting on?” + +“Slow, I’m afraid. Anyway, you could easily tell Babe Ruth and me +apart!” + +“I guess you’re doing better than you let on,” said Hop. “If you’re as +good at baseball as your brother is at football, you’ll do.” + +“I guess I am,” laughed Laurie; “just about!” + +“Well, Nid is surely coming fast,” replied Hop, gravely. “He’s been +doing some nice work the last few days.” + +Laurie stared. “Say, what are you doing, Hop? Stringing me?” he +demanded. + +“Stringing you?” Hop looked puzzled. “Why, no. How do you mean?” + +“About Ned. Do you mean that he’s really playing football?” + +“Why, of course I do. Didn’t you know it?” + +Laurie shook his head. “He’s been telling me a lot of stuff, but I +thought he was just talking, the way I’ve been, to sort of keep his +courage up.” + +“Nonsense! Nid’s doing mighty well. I don’t know how much experience +he’s had; some ways he acts sort of green; but he’s got Mason worried, I +guess. If he had another fifteen pounds he’d make the team sure. As it +is, I wouldn’t be surprised to see him play a whole lot this fall. You +see, he’s a pretty good punter, Nod, and yesterday he blossomed out as a +drop-kicker, too. Landed the ball over from about the thirty yards and +from a hard angle. Mason doesn’t do any kicking, and it’s no bad thing +to have a fellow in the back field who can help Pope out in a pinch. +It’s his kicking ability that’ll get him on if anything does.” + +“I see,” said Laurie, thoughtfully. “Well, I’m mighty glad. To tell the +truth, Hop, Ned hasn’t had an awful lot of experience. He’s had to bluff +a good deal.” + +“I suspected something of the sort from seeing him work the first week +or so. And then Kewpie said something that sort of lined up with the +idea. Well, he’s working hard and he’s making good. Much obliged for +these, Nod. I’ll fetch them back in ten minutes.” + +When Kendrick had taken his departure Laurie stared thoughtfully for a +minute into space. Finally he shook his head and smiled. “Good old Ned!” +he murmured. “I’m sorry I ragged him so. Gee, I’ll have to buckle down +to my own job or he’ll leave me at the post!” + +After practice that afternoon, Laurie and Lee picked up George and Bob +Starling at the tennis-courts, and, after changing into “cits,” went +around to the doctor’s porch and joined a dozen other lads who were +engaged in drinking Miss Tabitha’s weak tea and eating her +soul-satisfying layer-cake. After a half-hour of batting and fielding +practice and a five-inning game between the first team and the scrubs, +Laurie was in a most receptive mood as far as refreshments were +concerned. Miss Tabitha made an ideal hostess, for she left conversation +to the guests and occupied herself in seeing that cups and plates were +kept filled. No one had yet discovered the number of helpings of cake +that constituted Miss Tabitha’s limit of hospitality, and there was a +story of a junior so depressed by homesickness that he had +absent-mindedly consumed six wedges of it and was being urged to a +seventh when some inner voice uttered a saving warning. In spite of very +healthy appetites, none of the quartette sought to compete with that +record, but Laurie and George did allow themselves to be persuaded to +third helpings, declining most politely until they feared to decline any +more. Before they had finished, the doctor joined the group and made +himself very agreeable, telling several funny stories that set every one +laughing and caused a small junior—it was the cherub-faced youth who +sat at Laurie’s table in the dining-hall and whose career thus far had +proved anything but that of a cherub—to swallow a mouthful of mocha +cake the wrong way, with disastrous results. During the ensuing +confusion the quartette took their departure. At the gate Bob Starling +said: + +“By the way, fellows, I spoke to Dad about that tennis-court, and he’s +written to the agent for permission. He says there won’t be any trouble; +and if there is, he’ll agree to put the garden back the way we found it +and erect a new arbor.” + +“What will it be?” asked George. “Sod or gravel?” + +“Oh, gravel. You couldn’t get a sod court in shape under a year, and I +want to use it this fall. I’m going to look around to-morrow for some +one to do the job. Know who does that sort of work here—Lee?” + +“No, but I suppose you get a contractor; one of those fellows who build +roads and stone walls and things.” + +“I’d ask at the court-house,” said Laurie. + +“At the court—oh, that’s a punk one!” jeered Bob. “See you later, +fellows!” + +The game with Highland Academy was played across the river at Lookout, +and most of the fellows went. In spite of Hop Kendrick’s pessimistic +prophecy, Hillman’s took command of the situation in the first quarter +and held it undisturbed to the final whistle. The contest was, if not +extremely fast, well played by both teams, and the hosts refused to +acknowledge defeat until the end. Captain Stevenson, at left tackle, was +the bright, particular star of the day, with the redoubtable Pope a good +second. + +It was Joe Stevenson’s capture of a fumbled ball in the first five +minutes of play and his amazing run through the enemy ranks that +produced the initial score. Pope kicked an easy goal after Slavin, right +half, had plunged through for a touch-down. Later in the game, Pope had +added three more points by a place-kick from the forty-two yards. +Highland twice reached the Blue’s ten-yard line, the first time losing +the ball on downs, and the next attempting a forward pass that went +astray. Her one opportunity to score by a kick was wrecked by no other +than Kewpie, who, having substituted Holmes at the beginning of the +second half, somehow shot his hundred and seventy pounds through the +defense and met the pigskin with his nose. Kewpie presented a +disreputable appearance for several days, but was given due honor. +Hillman’s returned across the Hudson in the twilight of early October +with exultant cheers and songs. + +Ned watched that game from the substitutes’ bench, just as he had +watched the two preceding contests, but a newly awakened _esprit de +corps_ forbade complaining. When Laurie sympathetically observed that he +thought it was time Mulford gave Ned a chance in a real game, Ned +responded with dignity, almost with severity, that he guessed the coach +knew his business. + +The first of the month—or, to be exact, the fourth—brought the twins +their monthly allowances, and one of the first things Laurie did was to +go to the little blue shop on Pine Street and pay his bill, which had +reached its prescribed limit several days before. Ned went, too, +although he didn’t display much enthusiasm over the mission. Ned held +that, having created a bill, it was all wrong deliberately to destroy +it. To his mind, a bill was something to cherish and preserve. Laurie, +however, pointed out that, since one was prohibited from further +transactions at the Widow’s, even on a cash basis, as long as one owed +money there, it would be wise to cancel the debts. Ned recognized the +wisdom of the statement and reluctantly parted with ninety-seven cents. + +Since it was only a little after two o’clock, the shop was empty when +the twins entered, and Polly and her mother were just finishing their +lunch in the back room. It was Polly who answered the tinkle of the bell +and who, after some frowning and turning of pages in the account-book, +canceled the indebtedness. + +“Now,” said Ned, “I guess I’ll have a cream-cake. Want one, Laurie?” + +Laurie did, in spite of the fact that it was less than an hour since +dinner. Mrs. Deane appeared at the door, observed the proceeding, and +smiled. + +“I’m real glad to see you’re still alive,” she said to Ned. “I guess he +must take very good care of you.” + +“Yes’m, I do,” Laurie assured her gravely. + +Ned laughed scornfully, or as scornfully as it was possible to laugh +with his mouth full. “You shouldn’t believe everything he tells you, +Mrs. Deane. I have to look after him like a baby. Why, he wouldn’t get +down in time for breakfast if I didn’t put most of his clothes on.” + +“That’s no joke, either,” retorted Laurie, “about you putting my clothes +on. You’re wearing one of my collars and my best socks right now, +and—yes, sir, that’s my blue tie!” + +“Wait a bit, partner! Where’d you get that shirt you’re wearing?” + +“That’s different,” answered Laurie, with dignity. “Mine are all in the +wash. Besides, it’s an old one and you never wear it.” + +“I never get a chance to wear it!” + +“It must be very convenient for you,” said Mrs. Deane, smilingly, “to be +able to wear each other’s things. Polly, I guess there won’t be any one +else in for a while; maybe they’d like to see your garden.” + +Being assured that they would, Polly led the way through the back room, +a pleasant, sunny apartment evidently combining the duties of kitchen +and dining-room, and out to a little back porch shaded by +morning-glories and nasturtiums that fairly ran riot over the green +lattice. There was a braided rug on the floor and a small rocker and a +tiny table on which were books and a magazine or two. The books were +evidently Polly’s school books, for they were held together by a strap. + +The twins liked that garden. It wasn’t very large, for when the peculiar +Mr. Coventry had divided the estate he had placed the high board fence +very close to the little frame dwelling; but perhaps its very smallness +made it seem more attractive. Narrow beds encompassed it on three sides, +and a gravel walk followed the beds. In the tiny square inside, a small +rustic arbor, covered with climbing rose-vines, held a seat that, as was +presently proved, accommodated three very comfortably. + +But before they were allowed to sit down the boys had to be shown many +things: the hollyhocks against the back fence, the flowering almond that +had been brought all the way from the old home in New Jersey,—and had +never quite made up its mind whether to die of homesickness or go on +living,—the bed of lilies-of-the-valley that just _wouldn’t_ keep out +of the path and many other floral treasures. Nasturtiums and +morning-glories and scarlet sage and crinkly-edged white and lavender +petunias were still blossoming gaily, and there was even a cluster of +white roses on the arbor, for, so far, no frost had come. The twins +admired properly and Polly was all smiles, until suddenly she said, +“O-oh!” and faced them reproachfully. + +“You’ve just let me go on and be perfectly ridiculous!” she charged. “I +don’t think it’s a bit nice of you!” + +“Why, what—how do you mean?” stammered Ned. + +“You have the most wonderful flowers in the world in California, and you +know it!” she replied severely; “and you’ve let me show you these poor +little things as if—as if they were anything at all in comparison! I +forgot you came from California.” + +“Maybe we didn’t tell you,” offered Laurie. “Anyway, your flowers—” + +“In California they have hedges of geraniums and roses climb right over +the houses, and orange-trees and palms and everything,” interrupted +Polly, breathlessly. “Why, this garden must seem perfectly—perfectly +_awful_ to you!” + +“Don’t you believe it!” denied Ned. “Flowers and things do grow bigger, +I suppose, out our way; but they aren’t a bit prettier, are they, +Laurie?” + +“Not so pretty,” answered the other, earnestly. “Besides, _I_ never saw +a geranium hedge in my life. Maybe they have them in some places, like +Pasadena, but there isn’t _one_ in Santa Lucia, honest. There isn’t, is +there, Ned?” + +“_I_ never saw one. And palms aren’t awfully pretty. They get sort of +scraggly-looking sometimes. Honest, Polly, I never saw a garden any +prettier and cuter than this is. Of course, some are bigger and—and +more magnificent—” + +“Who wants a magnificent garden?” demanded Laurie, scornfully. “What +have you got in the box, Polly?” + +Comforted, Polly smiled again. “That’s Antoinette,” she said. “Come and +see.” + +Antoinette lived in a wooden box in the shelter of the porch, and had +long ears and very blue eyes and a nose that twitched funnily when they +approached. In short, Antoinette was a fluffy smoke-gray rabbit. “She +has a dreadfully long pedigree,” said Polly, as she took Antoinette out +and snuggled her in her arms. + +“Has she?” murmured Laurie. “I thought it looked rather short.” + +“A pedigree isn’t a _tail_, you idiot,” said Ned, scathingly. “She’s +awfully pretty, Polly. Will she bite?” + +“Of course not! At least, not unless you look like a cabbage-leaf.” + +“I wouldn’t take a chance,” Laurie advised. “Any one who’s as green as +you are—” + +“She _tries_ to eat ’most everything,” said Polly, “but she likes +cabbage and lettuce and carrots best.” + +“I wish I had a cabbage,” muttered Laurie, searching his pockets; “or a +carrot. You haven’t a carrot with you, have you, Ned?” + +“You’re the silliest boys!” laughed Polly, returning Antoinette to her +box. “Let’s go and sit down a minute.” And when they were on the seat +under the arbor and she had smoothed her skirt and tucked a pair of +rather soiled white canvas shoes from sight, she announced, “There! Now +you can make up a verse about something!” + + + + +CHAPTER X—POLLY ENTERTAINS + + +“Make up a—what did you say?” asked Ned. + +“Make up a verse,” answered Polly, placidly. “As you did the other day +when you went out. Don’t you remember?” + +“Oh!” Laurie looked somewhat embarrassed and a trifle silly. “Why, you +see—we only do that when—when—” + +“When we have inspiration,” aided Ned, glibly. + +“Yes, that’s it, inspiration! We—we have to have inspiration.” + +“I’m sure Antoinette ought to be enough inspiration to any poet,” +returned Polly, laughing. “You know you never saw a more beautiful +rabbit in your life—lives, I mean.” + +Ned looked inquiringly at Laurie. Then he said, “Well, maybe if I close +my eyes a minute—” He suited action to word. Polly viewed him with +eager interest; Laurie, with misgiving. Finally, after a moment of +silent suspense, his eyelids flickered and: + +“O Antoinette, most lovely of thy kind!” he declaimed. + +“Thou eatest cabbages and watermelon rind!” finished Laurie, promptly. + +Polly clapped her hands, but her approval was short-lived. “But she +doesn’t eatest watermelon rind,” she declared indignantly. “I’m sure it +wouldn’t be at all good for her!” + +Laurie grinned. “That’s what we call poetic license,” he explained. +“When you make a rhyme, sometimes you’ve got to—to sacrifice truth +for—in the interests of—I mean, you’ve got to think of the _sound_! +‘Kind’ and ‘carrot’ wouldn’t sound _right_, don’t you see?” + +“Well, I’m sure watermelon rind doesn’t sound right, either,” objected +Polly; “not for a rabbit. Rabbits have very delicate digestions.” + +“We might change it,” offered Ned. “How would this do? + + “O Antoinette, more lovely than a parrot, + Thou dost subsist on cabbages and carrot.” + +“That’s silly,” said Polly, scornfully. + +“Poetry usually is silly,” Ned answered. + +Laurie, who had been gazing raptly at his shoes, broke forth exultantly. +“I’ve got it!” he cried. “Listen! + + “O Antoinette, most beauteous of rabbits, + Be mine and I will feed thee naught but cabbits!” + +A brief silence followed. Then Ned asked, “What are cabbits?” + +“Cabbits are vegetables,” replied Laurie. + +“I never heard of them,” said Polly, wrinkling her forehead. + +“Neither did any one else,” laughed Ned. “He just made them up to rhyme +with rabbits.” + +“A cabbit,” said Laurie, loftily, “is something between a cabbage and a +carrot.” + +“What does it look like?” giggled Polly. + +Laurie blinked. “We-ell, you’ve seen a—you’ve seen an artichoke, +haven’t you?” Polly nodded and Laurie blinked again. “And you’ve seen +a—a mangel-wurzel?” + +“No, I don’t think so.” + +“Then I don’t see how I can tell you,” said Laurie, evidently relieved, +“because a cabbit is more like a mangel-wurzel than anything else. Of +course, it’s not so deciduous, and the shape is different; it’s more +obvate than a mangel-wurzel; more—” he swept his hands vaguely in +air—“more phenomenal.” + +“Oh, dry up,” said Ned, grinning. “How’d you like to have to put up with +an idiot like that all your life, Polly? The worst of it is, folks +sometimes mistake him for me!” + +“Yes, it’s awful, but I manage to bear up under it,” Laurie sighed. + +“How did you ever come to think of making those funny rhymes?” Polly +asked. + +“Oh, we had measles once, about four years ago,” said Ned. “We always +had everything together—measles, whooping-cough, scarlet fever, +everything. And when we were getting over it they wouldn’t let us read +and so we made up rhymes. I forget whose idea it was. I’d make up one +line and Laurie would make up the other, or the other way round. The +idea was to have the last word of the first line so hard that the other +fellow couldn’t rhyme to it. But I guess I only stuck Laurie once. Then +the word was lemon.” + +“You didn’t really stick me then,” Laurie denied. “I rhymed it with +demon. You said they didn’t rhyme, but I showed you a rhyming dictionary +that said they did.” + +“The dictionary said it was an imperfect rhyme, Laurie, and—” + +“Just the same, a rhyme’s a rhyme. Say, Ned, remember the one we made up +about Miss Yetter?” Ned nodded and grinned. “Miss Yetter was our nurse. +We thought it was pretty clever, but she didn’t like it. + + “When feeling ill send for Miss Yetter. + If you don’t die, she’ll make you better.” + +“She was quite insulted about it,” laughed Ned, “and told Dad; and he +tried to lecture us, but we got laughing so he couldn’t. We made rhymes +all the time for a while and nearly drove folks crazy; and finally Dad +said if we didn’t stop it he’d whale us. And I said, ‘All right, sir, +we’ll try not to do it’; and Laurie, the chump, butted in with, ‘’Cause +if we do, we know we’ll rue it!’ We nearly got the licking right then!” + +“You _are_ funny!” laughed Polly. “Is your mother—haven’t you—” + +“She died when we were kids,” answered Laurie. “I just remember her, but +Ned doesn’t.” + +“You think you do. You’ve just heard Dad, and nurse talk about her. We +were only four when Mother died.” + +Laurie looked unconvinced, but didn’t argue the matter. Instead he +asked, “Your father’s dead, isn’t he, Polly?” + +“Yes, he died when I was eight. He was a dear, and I missed him just +terribly. Mother says I look like him. He was very tall and was always +laughing. Mother says he laughed so much he didn’t have time for +anything else. She means that he wasn’t—wasn’t very successful. We were +very poor when he died. But I guess he was lots nicer than he would have +been if he had just been—successful. I guess the most successful man in +this town is Mr. Sparks, the banker, and no one has ever seen him laugh +once. And Uncle Peter was successful, too, I suppose; and he was just as +sour and ill-tempered as anything. He wasn’t my real uncle, but I called +him that because Mother said it would please him. It didn’t seem to.” + +“Was that Mr. Coventry?” asked Laurie. “The mis—I mean the man who +lived in the big square house over there?” + +“Yes. And I don’t mind your calling him the miser, because that is just +what he was. He was Mother’s half-brother, but he didn’t act as if he +was even a quarter-brother! He was always just as horrid as he could be. +When Father died he wrote Mother to come here and he would provide her +with a home. And when we came, we found he meant that Mother was to live +here and pay him rent. She didn’t have enough money to do that, and so +Uncle Peter made the front of the house into a store and bought some +things for her and made her sign a mortgage or something. When he died, +we thought maybe he had left Mother a little; but there wasn’t any will, +and not much property, either—just the big house on Walnut Street and +this place and about two thousand dollars. When the property was +divided, Mother got the other heirs to let her have this as her portion +of the estate, but she had to pay four hundred and fifty dollars for it. +That took about all she had saved and more, and so we haven’t been able +to do much to the house yet.” + +“It doesn’t look as if it needed much doing to,” said Ned, critically. + +“Oh, but it does! It needs a new coat of paint, for one thing. And some +of the blinds are broken. And there ought to be a furnace in it. Stoves +don’t really keep it warm in winter. Some day we’ll fix it up nicely, +though. As soon as I get through high school, I’m going to work and make +a lot of money.” + +“Attaboy!” approved Ned. “What are you going to do, Polly?” + +“I’m learning stenography and typewriting, and Mr. Farmer, the +lawyer,—he’s the one who got the others to let Mother have the house +when Uncle Peter’s estate was settled,—says he will find a place for me +in his office. He’s awfully nice. Some stenographers make lots of money, +don’t they?” + +“I guess so,” Ned agreed. “There’s a woman in Dad’s office who gets +eighteen dollars a week.” + +Polly clasped her hands delightedly. “Maybe I wouldn’t get that much, +though. I guess Mr. Farmer doesn’t pay his stenographer very high wages. +Maybe I’d get twelve dollars, though. Don’t you think I might?” + +“Sure!” said Laurie. “Don’t you let any one tell you any different. +Didn’t folks think that your Uncle Peter left more money than was found, +Polly?” + +“Oh, yes; but no one really knew. The lawyers looked everywhere. If he +did have any more, he must have hidden it away pretty well. They looked +all through the house and dug holes in the cellar floor. It was very +exciting. Mother thinks he lost what money he had speculating in stocks +and things. He used to go to New York about four times a year. No one +knew what he did there, not even Hilary; but Mother thinks he went to +see men who deal in stocks and that they got his money away from him.” + +“Who is Hilary?” Laurie inquired. + +“Hilary was a colored man that Uncle had had a long time. It seemed to +me that if Uncle had had much money, Hilary would have known about it; +and he didn’t.” + +“Where is he now? Hilary, I mean,” added Laurie, somewhat unnecessarily. + +“I don’t know. He went away a little while after Uncle Peter died. He +said he was going to New York, I think.” + +“You don’t suppose he took the money with him, do you? I mean—” + +“Oh no!” Polly seemed quite horrified. “Hilary was just as honest as +honest! Why, Uncle Peter died owing him almost forty dollars and Hilary +never got a cent of it! The lawyers were too mean for anything!” + +“There’s a fellow named Starling living there now,” Laurie said. “His +father’s rented the house for three years. Bob says that he’s going to +find the money and give it to your mother.” + +Polly laughed. “Oh, I wish that he would! But I guess if the lawyers +couldn’t find it he never will. Lawyers, they say, can find money when +nobody else can! Is he nice?” + +“Bob? Yes, he’s a dandy chap. You ought to know him, Polly; he’s your +next-door neighbor.” + +“Back-door neighbor, you mean,” interpolated Ned. + +“I think I saw him in the garden one day,” said Polly. “His father is an +engineer, Mae Ferrand says, and he’s building a big bridge for the +railway. Or maybe it’s a tunnel. I forget.” + +“Is Mae Something the girl with the molasses-candy hair you were with at +the high school game?” Laurie asked. + +“Yes, but her hair isn’t like molasses candy. It’s perfectly lovely +hair. It’s like—like diluted sunshine!” + +Laurie whistled. “Gee! Did you get that, Neddie? Well, anyway, I like +dark hair better.” + +“Oh, I don’t! I’d love to have hair like Mae’s. And, what do you think, +she likes my hair better than her own!” + +“Don’t blame her,” said Laurie. “What do you say, Ned?” + +“I say I’ve got to beat it back and get into football togs. What time is +it?” + +“Look at your own watch, you lazy loafer. Well, come on. I say, Polly, +would your mother let you go to the game with me Saturday? That is, if +you want to, of course.” + +“Oh, I’d love to! But—I’ll ask her, anyway. And if she says I may, +would you mind if Mae went too? We usually go together to the games.” + +“Not a bit. I’ll be around again before Saturday and see what she says.” + +“I wouldn’t be surprised if she said yes,” remarked Polly. “I think she +must like you boys. Anyway, you’re the first of the Hillman’s boys she +has ever let me invite out here.” + +“Really? Bully for her! Wait till I say farewell to Antoinette, ‘most +beauteous of rabbits!’ What does she twitch her nose like that for?” + +“I think she’s asking for some cabbits,” replied Polly, gravely. + +“She’s making faces at you, you chump,” said Ned, rudely. “Come on.” +They returned through the little living-room, empty save for a big black +cat asleep in a rocking-chair, and found Mrs. Deane serving the first of +the afternoon trade in the shop beyond. They said good afternoon to her +very politely, and Polly went to the door with them. Outside on the +walk, Ned nudged Laurie, and they paused side by side and gravely +removed their caps. + +“We give you thanks and say farewell, Miss Polly.” + +“The visit’s been, indeed, most jolly!” + + + + +CHAPTER XI—NED SPEAKS OUT + + +There was a cut in the football squad that afternoon and more than a +dozen candidates were retired, leaving twenty-eight players for the +first and scrub teams. Ned survived, as, indeed, he expected to; for, +while he knew his limitations, neither the coach nor the captain +appeared to. Perhaps they were sometimes puzzled over flashes of +ineptitude, or perhaps they put them down to temporary reversals of +form; at least, Ned’s talent was never seriously questioned by them. He +had settled down as a regular half-back on the scrub eleven, although +twice he had been called on in practice scrimmages to take Mason’s place +at left half on the first squad. He was too light to make much headway +in bucking plays, and his inability to start quickly handicapped him +frequently in running; but as a kicker he was dependable and had +developed a quite remarkable accuracy at forward passing. Against a +light opponent or a slow one he could be counted on to play a fairly +good game, although so far he had not been allowed the opportunity. With +him on the scrub team was Hop Kendrick at quarter, and, for a time, +Kewpie at center. But Kewpie had trained down at last to a hundred and +sixty-five pounds and was handling his weight and bulk with a new +snappiness, and a few days after Ned became a part of the scrub outfit +Kewpie was elevated to the first team, and a much disgruntled Holmes +took his place on the second. + +With the defeat of Wagner School, Hillman’s ended her preliminary +season. In that contest, played at home, the Blue showed a new +aggressiveness and much more speed; and, while she was able to score +only one touch-down, and Pope failed miserably at goal, every one was +well satisfied. Wagner had a strong team, and a victory over it was no +small triumph. Hillman’s line held splendidly under the battering-ram +tactics of the adversary, and her backs were fast and shifty. On attack, +the Blue failed to gain consistently; but in the third period, with a +captured fumble on Wagner’s thirty-three yards for encouragement, Pope +got free for half the distance, and Slavin and Mason, alternating, +worked the enemy’s left side until the ball lay on the five-yard line. +Then a fake attack on Wagner’s right, with Pope carrying the ball +through on the left of center, brought the only score of the day. Kewpie +proved himself that afternoon, for he was a veritable Rock of Gibraltar +on defense and a hundred and sixty-five pounds of steel springs on +attack. The Blue team was far from a perfect machine yet, but it seemed +that Mulford had found his parts and that only a generous oiling was +needed. + +Laurie and George Watson escorted Polly and Mae Ferrand to the game, +and, although aware of the covert grins and whispered witticisms of +acquaintances, enjoyed themselves hugely. Mae proved to be a very jolly, +wholesome sort of girl, and her knowledge of what may be termed “inside +football” was stupendous and made both Laurie and George rather ashamed +of their ignorance. Between the halves, Ned, arrayed in a trailing gray +blanket, joined them and promptly became involved with Mae in a very +technical argument that no one else could follow. From the fact that Ned +retired with a rather dispirited expression when the teams came on +again, Laurie surmised that the honors had gone to Mae. + +The following Monday evening, while the enthusiasm produced by the +victory over Wagner School was still undiminished, a second mass-meeting +was held in the auditorium to devise means of replenishing the football +treasury: Three of the remaining five games were to be played away from +Orstead, and in two cases the distance to be traveled was considerable +and the expenses consequently large. As Joe Stevenson said, introducing +the subject for discussion, if Hillman’s charged admission to her home +games, it would be possible to get through a season without asking for +assistance from the student body. “But you fellows know that that isn’t +the school policy. We are allowed to sell tickets for the Farview game +only, and, while we make about four hundred and fifty dollars as our +share, that doesn’t go very far against the season’s outlay. We have to +pay from seventy-five to a hundred and twenty-five dollars to every team +that comes here to play us. When we go away we seldom make enough to pay +our expenses. In the Highland game, because it cost us almost nothing +for fares, we did. At the present moment we have a cash balance on hand +of forty-three dollars, and our liabilities, including Mr. Mulford’s +salary for the remainder of the season, are about eight hundred dollars. + +“The manager estimates that we’ll have to incur added expenses for about +a hundred and twenty dollars for Farview game tickets and new supplies. +In short, we shall have to pay out, before the season ends, about nine +hundred dollars. Against that we have on hand forty-three dollars, and +in prospect something like five hundred, leaving us about three hundred +and fifty in the hole. + +“There has been talk of cutting out the Lansing and Whittier games, but +that wouldn’t make enough difference. Besides, it would give us a black +eye to cancel games as late as this. We might save perhaps seventy +dollars if we did, but it would cost us ten times that in public +estimation. As far as I can see, fellows, if we’re going to have a +football team, we’ve got to pay for it. We’ve asked permission to charge +admission, even a nominal one, to all games, but the faculty is against +it. And we have asked to have a regular assessment made against each +student. To many of us that would seem the fairer and most satisfactory +way of meeting the emergency. But the faculty doesn’t like that any +better than the other proposition. So I guess it’s up to us, each and +every one of us, to dig down and produce the coin. + +“We need three hundred and fifty dollars at least. That means that every +fellow in school must pony up four dollars, or, rather, that the average +must be four dollars each. Some of you can’t give so much, probably, and +a few can give more. I’d like to hear from you, please. Don’t be afraid +to say what you think. We want to get together on this matter and thrash +it out, if it takes until ten o’clock. Any one who has any suggestion to +offer or anything to say will be heard. Come on, somebody!” + +There were plenty of speakers: Dave Brewster, the baseball captain, Dan +Whipple, senior class president, Lew Cooper, upper middle class +president, Dave Murray, the manager of the team, Craig Jones, for the +lower middlers, and many others, Some subscribed to the donation scheme, +others opposed it. Cooper suggested an appeal to the school alumni. +Brewster pointed out that the effort would cost money and that the +result would be uncertain and, in any case, slow. An increase in the +price of tickets to the Farview game was discussed and the idea +abandoned. An hour passed and the meeting was getting nowhere. Some of +the younger boys had already withdrawn. A tall, lantern-jawed youth had +charged the football committee with extravagance, and Dave Murray had +bitterly resented the allegation. Ned, who, with Laurie and Lee Murdock, +was seated near the back of the hall, had shown signs of restiveness for +some time and had been muttering to himself. Now, to the surprise of his +companions, he jumped to his feet and demanded recognition: + +“Mr. Chairman!” + +“Mister—” Dan Whipple pointed a finger at Ned and nodded. + +“Turner,” prompted Kewpie from a front seat. + +“Mr. Turner,” encouraged the chairman. + +“I’d like to say that I never heard so much talking and saw so little +action,” began Ned, impatiently. “What’s the matter with some one saying +something useful instead of just chewing the rag?” + +“You tell ’em,” piped a small junior, above the applause and laughter. + +“All right! I’ll tell you fellows that you’re a lot of pikers to +hesitate to pledge three or four hundred dollars to keep your team +going. Where I come from we had to have a new grand stand two years ago, +and we called a meeting like this and we raised seven hundred dollars in +thirty-five minutes in cash and pledges. There were a lot more of us, +but half of us would have felt like Rockefellers if we’d ever found a +whole half-dollar in our pockets! Some of us gave as high as five +dollars, but not many. Most of us pledged two dollars; and those who +didn’t have two dollars went out and worked until they’d made it, by +jingo! And we got our grand stand up inside of two weeks, in time for +the big baseball game.” + +There was real applause this time, and those in the front of the hall +had swung around to have a look at the earnest youth who was calling +them names. + +“That’s one way of getting the money,” continued Ned, warming up finely, +“but there’s another. Out my way—” + +“Say, where do you come from?” called some one. + +“I come from California,” answered Ned, proudly. “Maybe you’ve heard of +it!” + +“Attaboy!” shouted Kewpie. “Swing your leg, Nid!” + +“When we want to raise some money out there and folks are too stingy to +give it outright, we take it away from them another way. We get up a +fête. We give them a good time and they pay for it. Why not try it here? +I don’t know how many folks there are in this burg, but I reckon there +are enough to part with three or four hundred dollars. Give them an +excuse to spend their money and they’ll spend it!” + +Ned sat down amid loud applause, and Dave Brewster was recognized, +although half a dozen others were clamoring for speech. + +“Turner’s said something, fellows,” declared Brewster. “The idea’s worth +considering. We’ve never tackled the town folks for money, and there’s +no reason why they shouldn’t come across. They’ve come to our games for +years without paying a cent, except for the Farview game, and it +wouldn’t hurt them to give a little to a good cause. I don’t know what +sort of a fête Turner has in mind, but I should think we might get up +something that would do the business.” + +“Mr. Chairman,” said Kewpie, “I move that a committee of three be +appointed by the chair, to include Nid,—I mean Mr. Turner,—to consider +the—the matter of giving a fête to raise the money.” + +“Seconded!” + +“You have heard the motion,” droned Whipple. “All those in favor will so +signify by saying ‘Aye.’ Contrary, ‘No.’ Moved and carried. I will +appoint the presidents of the senior and upper middle classes and Mr. +Turner to the committee, three in all. Is it the sense of this meeting +that your committee is to report to it at a subsequent meeting, or is it +to have authority to proceed with the matter if it decides that the +scheme is a good one?” + +“Full authority, Mr. Chairman!” “Let ’em go ahead with it!” “Sure! +That’s what we want. Let’s have action!” + +“Is there any other business? Then I declare the meeting adjourned!” + +Whipple captured Ned on the way out. “We’d better get together right +away on this, Turner,” he said. “Can you meet Cooper and me at my room +to-morrow at twelve?” + +Ned agreed, and he and Laurie and Lee went on. “What I’d like to know,” +remarked Laurie, after a moment’s silence, “is how you’re going to have +a fête in a place like this. The weather’s too cold for it.” + +“Maybe it will be warmer,” answered Ned, cheerfully. “Besides, we don’t +have to have it outdoors.” + +“It wouldn’t be a fête if you didn’t,” sniffed the other. + +“Well, what’s the difference? Call it anything you like. The big thing +is to get the money.” + +“You had your cheek with you to talk the way you did,” chuckled Laurie. + +“He talked sense, though,” asserted Lee, warmly. + +“Of course. The Turners always do.” Laurie steered Ned toward the +entrance of East Hall. “Well, good night, Lee. See you at the fête!” + +Upstairs, Ned tossed his cap to the bed, plumped himself into a chair at +the table, and drew paper and pencil to him. “Now,” he said, “let’s +figure this out. I’ve got to talk turkey to those fellows to-morrow. +What’s your idea, partner?” + +“Hey, where do you get that stuff?” demanded Laurie. “Why drag me into +it? It’s not my fête. I don’t own it.” + +“Shut up and sit down there before I punch your head. You’ve got to help +with this. The honor of the Turners is at stake!” + +So Laurie subsided and for more than an hour he and Ned racked their +brains and gradually the plan took shape. + + + + +CHAPTER XII—THE COMMITTEE ON ARRANGEMENTS + + +“It’s like this,” explained Ned. He and Laurie and Polly and Mae Ferrand +were in the little garden behind the shop. The girls were on the bench +and the boys were seated on the turf before the arbor, their knees +encircled with their arms. A few yards away Antoinette eyed them gravely +and twitched her nose. On the porch step, Towser, the big black cat, +blinked benignly, sometimes shifting his gaze to the branches of the +maple in the next yard, where an impudent black-and-white woodpecker was +seeking a late luncheon. + +“There are two sub-committees,” continued Ned, earnestly. “Whipple and +Cooper are the Committee on Finance and Publicity, and Laurie and I are +the Committee on Arrangements. I told them I had to have help and so +they took Laurie in.” + +“No thanks to you,” grumbled Laurie, who was, however, secretly much +pleased. + +“It’s going to be next Saturday afternoon and evening, and this is +Tuesday, and so there isn’t much time. We were afraid to make it any +later because the weather might get too cold. Besides, the team needs +the money right off. I looked in an almanac and it said that next +Saturday would be fair and warm, so that’s all right.” + +“But don’t you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?” asked Polly. “I +know ours does. When we had our high-school picnic, the almanac said +‘showers’ and it was a perfectly gorgeous day. I carried my mackintosh +around all day and it was a perfect nuisance. Don’t you remember, Mae?” + +“Well, you’ve got to believe in something,” declared Ned. “Anyway, we’re +going to have it at Bob Starling’s, and if it’s too cold outdoors, we’ll +move inside.” + +“You mean at Uncle Peter’s?” exclaimed Polly. + +“Yes. We thought of having it at school first, but Mr. Hillman didn’t +like it much; and besides, the fellows would be inside without having to +pay to get there! You see, it’s going to cost every one a quarter just +to get in.” + +“And how much to get out?” asked Mae, innocently. + +Ned grinned. “As much as we can get away from them. There’ll be twelve +booths to sell things in—” + +“What sort of things?” Polly inquired. + +“All sorts. Eats and drinks and everything. We’re getting the +storekeepers to donate things. So far they’ve just given us things that +they haven’t been able to sell, a pile of junk; but we’re going to stop +that. Biddle, the hardware man, gave us a dozen cheap pocket-knives, but +he’s got to come across again. We’ve been to only eight of them so far, +but we haven’t done so worse. Guess we’ve got enough truck for one booth +already. And then there’ll be one of them for a rummage sale. We’re +going to get each of the fellows to give us something for that, and I’ll +bet we’ll have a fine lot of truck. Each booth will represent a college +and be decorated in the proper colors: Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and so +on. And—and now it’s your turn, Laurie.” + +“Yes, I notice that I always have to do the dirty work,” said the other. +He hugged his knees tighter, rolled over on his back for inspiration, +and, when he again faced his audience on the bench, smiled his nicest. +“Here’s where you girls come in,” he announced. “We want you two to take +two of the booths and get a girl for each of the others. Want to?” + +“Oh, it would be darling!” cried Polly. + +“I’d love to!” said Mae. + +“Only—” + +“Only—” + +“Only what!” asked Ned, as the girls viewed each other doubtfully. + +“I’m not sure Mother would let me,” sighed Polly. “Do you think she +would, Mae?” + +“I don’t believe so. And I don’t believe Mama would let me. She—she’s +awfully particular that way.” + +“Gee!” said Ned, in disappointed tones, “I don’t see why not! It isn’t +as if—” + +“Of course it isn’t,” agreed Laurie. “Besides, your mothers would be +there too!” + +“Would they?” asked Mae, uncertainly. + +“Of course! Every one’s coming! What harm would there be in it? You can +do things for—for charity that you can’t do any other time! All you’d +have to do would be to just stand behind the booth and sell things. It +won’t be hard. Everything will have the price marked on it and—” + +“You won’t need to go by the prices always, though,” interpolated Ned. +“I mean, if you can get more than the thing is marked, you’d better do +it! And then there’s the—the costumes, Laurie.” + +“Oh, yes, I forgot. We’d like each girl to sort of wear something that +would sort of match the college she represented—sort of,” he explained +apologetically. “If you had the Yale booth, you could wear a dark-blue +waist, and so on. Do you think that would be possible?” + +Polly giggled. “We might ask Stella Hatch to take the Harvard booth, +Mae. With her hair, she wouldn’t have to dress much!” + +“And you and Polly could take your first pick,” observed Laurie, +craftily. “You’d look swell as—as Dartmouth, Mae!” + +“In _green_! My gracious, Ned! No, thank you! But Polly ought to be +Yale. She looks lovely in blue. I think I’d like to be Cornell. My +brother Harry’s in Cornell.” + +“All right,” agreed Ned. “I wish you’d ask your mothers soon, will you? +Do try, because we’ve just got to get girls for the booths. You’d have +lots of fun, too. The Banjo and Mandolin Club is going to play for +dancing for an hour at five and nine, and there’ll be an entertainment, +too.” + +“What sort?” asked Polly. + +“We don’t know yet. Some of the gymnastic team will do stunts, I think, +for one thing, and there’ll be singing and maybe Laurie will do some +rope-swinging—” + +“I told you a dozen times I wouldn’t! Besides, I haven’t any rope.” + +“We can find one, probably,” replied his brother, untroubled. “We +haven’t settled about the entertainment yet. And there are two or three +other things we haven’t got to. Starling’s going to have his garden all +fixed up, and he’s going to cover the old arbor with branches and hang +Chinese lanterns in it and have little tables and chairs there for folks +to sit down and eat ice-cream and cake. + +“And that reminds me, Polly. Do you suppose that Miss Comfort would make +some cakes for us?” + +“Why, yes, Nid, but—but you’d have to _buy_ them. I don’t think you +ought to expect her to _donate_ them.” + +“We meant to buy them, of course, Polly. And we wondered if your mother +would make some of those dandy cream-puffs.” + +“I’m sure she will. How many would you want?” + +“I don’t know. You see, there’s no way of telling how many will come. +There are three thousand people in Orstead, but that doesn’t mean much, +does it? The ‘Messenger’ editor’s agreed to put in an advertisement for +us for nothing, and there’ll be notices all around town in the windows: +we got the man who prints the school monthly to do them for just the +cost of the paper. So folks ought to come, shouldn’t you think?” + +“Oh, I’m sure they will!” agreed Polly, and Mae echoed her. “But it’ll +be dreadfully hard to know how much cake and ice-cream and refreshments +to order, won’t it?” + +“Fierce,” agreed Ned. “I suppose the best way will be to reckon on, say, +three hundred and order that much stuff. Only, how do you tell how much +three hundred will eat?” + +“Why, you can’t! Besides, Nid, three hundred people would only bring in +seventy-five dollars!” + +“In admissions, yes; but we’ve got to make them buy things when we get +them in there. If every one spent a dollar inside—” + +“But lots of them won’t. Do you think they will, Mae?” + +Mae shook her head. “No, I don’t. Lots and lots will just come out of +curiosity and won’t spend a cent. I know, boys, because that’s the way +they act at the fairs here.” + +Ned kicked at the turf gloomily. “Gee, that’s fierce!” he muttered. + +“Well, we’d ought to get more than three hundred folks,” said Laurie. +“Remember, it’s to be afternoon and evening too. I’ll bet there’ll be +nearer six hundred than three.” + +Ned brightened. “That’s so. And six hundred, even if they only averaged +fifty cents apiece, would be three hundred dollars. And I guess if we +can make three hundred, we can dig up the other fifty! Well, we’ve got +to get busy, Laurie. I got them to give me a cut from practice this +afternoon and I’ll have to make the most of my time,” he explained to +the girls. + +“Oh! And did they let you off, too, Nod?” asked Polly. + +“No, we’re through with baseball,” Laurie answered. “No more till +spring. I’m just fairly broken-hearted!” + +“When will you know about helping us, Polly?” Ned asked. + +[Illustration: “But don’t you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?” +asked Polly] + +“I’ll ask Mother right away; and you’ll ask, too, won’t you, Mae? Can +you stop in this evening? I do hope it’ll be all right!” + +“So do we!” said Ned and Laurie, in a breath. “Rather!” + +And the Committee on Arrangements hurried away. + +That night the committee met again in Dan Whipple’s room in West Hall +and satisfactory progress was reported all along the line. Ned read a +list of donations from the town merchants, and announced that twelve +young ladies from the high school would be on hand, appropriately +attired, to take charge of the booths. Lew Cooper showed proofs of the +poster that was to be displayed in windows and tacked on posts and +fences, and of the four-inch, double-column advertisement to appear in +the “Messenger.” Dan reported that Mr. Wells, the physical director, had +promised to see that the best six members of the gymnastic team should +exhibit afternoon and evening. + +“That means, though,” he said, “that we’ll have to have some kind of a +platform. Better make a note of that, Lew.” + +“Platforms cost money,” answered Lew, dubiously. “Maybe we can +borrow—I’ll tell you what! There’s one stored over in the field-house, +one they use to set the dressing-tent on. It’s in two +pieces,—sections,—but I guess it’s big enough. We’ll see if we can’t +get the use of it.” + +“Good! Better ask Mr. Wells, Say, Hal, did you see Norris?” + +Hal Pringle was Dan’s room-mate, and, while he was usually present at +the meetings, he was careful to keep himself in the background unless +called on for advice. Now he looked up from his book and nodded. “Yes, +it ’a all right. They’ll play for an hour in the afternoon and an hour +at night. I had to promise them eats, though.” + +“Of course. Much obliged. Speaking of eats, fellows, what’s been done +about the refreshments?” + +“Nothing yet,” answered Ned. “I wanted to talk that over. How many +sandwiches and how much salad will we want? And how many gallons of +ice-cream and—” + +“Whoa!” begged Dan. “Blessed if I know! How the dickens are we going to +know how much food will be needed? What’s the rule about it? Or isn’t +there any?” + +“Depends on how many will attend the show,” said Lew. “Find that out—” + +“How’re we going to find it out, you chump? How many do you suppose we +can count on, Ned?” + +“Maybe six hundred,” was the answer. “But if it should rain—” + +“There you are! If it rained, we mightn’t get two hundred! I’ll say +that’s a problem. We’d be in a fine fix if we found ourselves with two +or three freezers of ice-cream on our hands and a lot of other truck. +Look here, Tabby might know. Suppose you ask her, Ned. We’ve got to have +enough and not too much.” + +“It’ll be all right about the ice-cream,” said Laurie. “The man said we +could return what we didn’t open if we got it back that night so he +could pack it over. But the other things—” + +“You talk to Tabby in the morning,” repeated Dan. “She’ll know if any +one does. Now what else? What about the entertainment part of it, Mr. +Chairman of the Committee on Arrangements? What have you got in mind +besides the gymnastics?” + +“We thought we might find some one who could sing or dance. But we don’t +know many of the fellows.” + +“Bully! There’s Cheesman, Lew. He’s a corker. And Kewpie isn’t so bad. +He sings a funny song mighty well.” + +“He couldn’t sing it in the afternoon, though, Dan: he’d be at the +field.” + +“That’s so! still, the game ought to be finished by four. We wouldn’t +have the entertainment part until late, would we?” + +“About four, I thought,” said Ned, “but Kewpie could come last. I’ll put +him down, anyway.” + +“Anything else besides songs?” asked Dan. + +“Yes, only-” Ned dropped his voice and glanced at Pringle—“only it’s +got to be kept a secret to make good.” + +“Oh, Hal’s all right. He’s a sort of ex-officio member of the committee. +Shoot, Ned!” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII—NED GETS INTO THE GAME + + +Four hectic days followed. To Laurie, since Ned was held for two hours +each afternoon at the football field, fell most of the duties of the +Committee on Arrangements, and he was a very busy youth. He badgered +shopkeepers into parting with goods to be sold at the booths, helped Bob +Starling trim up the old arbor in the garden of the Coventry place, made +frequent trips to the Or stead caterer’s, engaged eight cakes from Miss +Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from the Widow Deane, spent two +hours Wednesday helping Lew and Hal Pringle distribute posters +throughout the village, and attended to a hundred other matters +between-times. Of course, Ned aided when he could, and was helpful with +advice and unfailing in suggestions; but recitations and football +practice didn’t leave him much time, even though he conscientiously +arose a full hour earlier every morning that week, and skimped studying +so much that he got in trouble with three instructors in one day! + +Miss Tabitha had proved as helpful as Dan Whipple had predicted. She had +shaken her head at the idea of entertaining six hundred at the fête. +“You mustn’t count on more than half that many,” she said. “I dare say +all the boys will go, and they’ll make ninety. Then, if you get two +hundred of the townsfolk, you’ll be doing very nicely. Don’t decide how +much salad or how many sandwiches you want until Saturday morning. So +much will depend on the weather. Even if you hold the affair indoors, +lots of folks won’t come if it rains. You say you’ve ordered eight cakes +from Martha Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from Mrs. Deane?” + +“Yes’m,” said Ned. “We wanted Mrs. Deane to make more, but she didn’t +think she could.” + +“Well, that’s a hundred and fourty-four cream-puffs, and—let me +see—one of Miss Comfort’s cakes will cut into sixteen pieces, and eight +times sixteen—” + +“A hundred and twenty-eight, ma’am.” + +“Well, and a hundred and twenty-eight and a hundred and forty-four—” + +“Two hundred and seventy-two.” + +“You’re real quick at figures, aren’t you? Seems as if, though, counting +on three hundred, you’d be a little short. I’ll have Aunt Persis make +one of her marble-cakes. That’ll help out, I guess.” + +“Yes’m; thanks awfully,” answered Ned. + +“Who is going to serve the refreshments?” + +“Why—why—” Ned’s face fell. “I guess we hadn’t thought of that!” + +“Well, it makes a heap of difference, because you can make a quart of +ice-cream serve ten people or twenty, just as you’ve a mind to. I +usually count on sixteen. Same way with a loaf of cake, and same way +with salad. It’s awfully easy to waste salad when you’re serving it. +Now, if you’d like me to, Ned, I’ll attend to serving everything for +you. You just have the things set down there and I’ll look after them.” + +“Oh, Miss Hillman, if you would! Gee, that would be great! It—it’ll be +a lot of trouble, though, ma’am.” + +“Well, I guess it won’t be the first trouble I’ve seen,” replied Miss +Tabitha, dryly; “nor it won’t be the last!” + +Thursday afternoon Laurie hurried over to the Coventry place as soon as +a two-o’clock recitation was done. Bob was awaiting him at the gate, and +conducted him around to the back of the big square house. Ned stared in +surprise. The tangle of trees and vines and shrubbery had been trimmed +to orderly neatness, the long, unkempt grass had been shorn to a yellow, +but respectable, turf, and the old arbor showed new strips where Thomas, +the Starlings’ man, had been at work on the decrepit frame. Near at hand +lay piles of cedar and hemlock branches. + +“Dad got a couple of the men to cut those down near the tunnel and haul +them up here.” Bob explained. “Thomas is going to help us put them up. +He made a peachy job of the garden, didn’t he?” + +“You bet!” responded Laurie, heartily. “I wouldn’t have known the place! +I say, Bob, this arbor’s longer than I thought it was.” + +“Forty feet, about. Why?” + +“I only ordered six tables and a dozen chairs from the caterer,” +answered Laurie, dubiously. “Guess they aren’t enough; but he’s charging +twenty-five cents apiece for them—” + +“Twenty-five cents for a table? Isn’t that dirt-cheap?” + +“We’re only renting them, you idiot!” + +“Oh, I see. Well, six is enough, I guess; you don’t want to crowd them. +Now let’s get busy with the green stuff. I’ll yell down cellar for +Thomas. There’s a ball of twine, and I’ve got two hammers and a lot of +tacks on the side porch. You take your coat off and I’ll—” + +“We’ll have to have a step-ladder, Bob!” + +“There’s a short ladder right beside you. Be right back.” + +Laurie sat down on a wheelbarrow, after removing his coat and folding +back the sleeves of his shirt, and looked around him. The garden was +fairly large—larger in appearance since the clutter of shrubbery along +the sides had been cleared away. Along the School Park edge ran a tall +hedge of lilac bushes. At the back was the high board fence, painted +dark brown, that separated the garden from the Widow Deane’s humble +property. On the other side was a rusty ornamental iron fence, mostly +hidden by vines. Broad walks, in spite of Thomas’s efforts rather +overrun with weeds, surrounded the central plot of ancient turf, and +another ran straight down the middle of the garden, connecting with the +arbor. Wires were to be strung from the trees and across to the arbor, +and Chinese lanterns hung thereon. Laurie, half closing his eyes, sought +to visualize the place as it would appear on Saturday. He did want the +affair to be a success, both financial and artistic, both on account of +the school and—well, for the honor of the Turners! While he was musing, +two things happened simultaneously: Bob and Thomas appeared from the +house, and a familiar voice came to him from the opposite direction. + +“Nod!” called the voice. “Nod, will you please come here a moment?” + +Laurie’s eyes sought the board fence. Over the top of it appeared the +head and shoulders of Polly. He left the wheelbarrow and hurried through +the arbor and down the walk beyond. Polly’s face indicated distress, +whether mental or physical Laurie couldn’t determine. But Polly’s first +words explained. + +“I can’t stay here l-long,” she said. “I—I’m just hanging by my elbows. +I cl-climbed up on a board, and it’s fallen down!” + +“I’ll get you a ladder!” cried Laurie, gallantly. + +“N-no, never mind. I’m going to drop in a s-second. I just want to ask +you what Brown’s color is. Nettie Blanchard is going to be Brown and—” + +“Why, brown, of course!” + +“Oh!” There was the sound of desperate scraping against the farther side +of the fence, and Polly’s countenance became fairly convulsed with the +effort of holding herself in sight. “Oh! She said it was pur-pur—” + +Polly disappeared. There was a thud from the next yard. + +“Purple!” The word floated across to him, muffled but triumphant. + +“Are you hurt, Polly?” he called anxiously. + +“Not a bit,” was the rueful response, “but I’m afraid the day-lilies +are!” Then she laughed merrily. “Thanks, Nod! I didn’t think Nettie was +right. She loves purple, you see!” + +“Does she? Well, say, maybe she can be Williams. We weren’t going to +have Williams, but its color is purple, I think, and if she is going to +be disappointed—” + +“She will look very well indeed in brown,” came from the other side in +judicial tones; “and if we begin making changes, half the girls will +want to be something they aren’t. Why, Pearl Fayles begged to be some +girls’ college neither Mae nor I had ever heard of, just so she could +wear lavender and pale lemon!” + +“Well, all right,” laughed Laurie. “She’d better stick to Brown—and +brown! Good-by, Polly. I’ll drop in after a while and find out how +things are getting on.” + +He turned to find Bob viewing him quizzically from the end of the arbor, +swinging a hammer in each hand. “Of course it’s all right, I dare say,” +he announced, “but I _thought_ you came here to fix up the arbor. +Instead of that I find you talking to girls over the fence!” + +“There’s only one girl,” replied Laurie, with dignity, “and we were +talking business.” + +“Oh, of course! Sorry I interrupted.” + +“You needn’t be, and you didn’t. Quit grinning like a simpleton and give +me a hammer!” + +“Right-o! Come on, Thomas! It’s quite all right now!” + +An hour later their task was done, and well done, and they viewed it +with approval. To be honest, the major part of the work had been +performed by the faithful Thomas, although it is not to be denied that +both Laurie and Bob toiled conscientiously. Before they were through +approving the result from various angles, Bob’s father joined them. Mr. +Starling was an older edition of Bob—a tall, straight, lean-visaged man +of forty-two or -three, with the complexion of one who had lived an +outdoor life. He had a deep, pleasant voice and a quiet manner not fully +in accord with a pair of keen eyes and a firm mouth. + +“I’d call that a good piece of work, boys,” he said, as he joined them. +“And right up to specifications, too. Those paper lanterns come yet, +Bob?” + +“No, sir; I haven’t seen them.” + +“Lanterns, Mr. Starling?” asked Laurie. “Do you mean Chinese lanterns? +We’ve ordered a lot from the caterer, sir.” + +“Tell him you won’t need them, then. I’ve got a hundred coming up from +the city, Turner. They ought to be here, too. Thomas, call up the +express company and ask about them.” + +“That’s very kind, sir,” said Laurie, “but you needn’t have done it. +You—you’re doing _everything_!” + +“Nonsense! Bob and I want to do our part, of course. Well, this +wilderness certainly looks different, doesn’t it? That reminds me, Bob; +the agent writes me that we may ‘make such improvements to the property +as we desire.’ So, as I consider the absence of that arbor an +improvement, I guess you can pull it down any time you like. I’m going +to have a cup of tea, Turner. Will you join me? I believe there will be +cakes, too.” + +Laurie found Ned in rather a low frame of mind when he got back to +Number 16 a half-hour before supper-time. Ned was hunched over a Latin +book and each hand held a firm grip on his hair. At Laurie’s arrival he +merely grunted. + +“Where does it pain you most?” asked Laurie, solicitously, subsiding +into a chair with a weary sigh. Ned’s mood was far from flippant. He +rewarded the other with a scowl, and bent his gaze on the book again. +“Want to hear the latest news from the front?” persisted Laurie. + +“No, I don’t!” his brother growled. “I’ve had all the news I can stand. +Smug says that if I don’t get this rotten stuff by nine to-night, and +make a perfect showing to-morrow, he will can me!” + +“Mr. Cornish said that?” gasped Laurie. “What do you know about that? +Why, I thought he was a gentleman!” + +“He’s a—a brute! I can’t learn the old stuff! And I have a hunch that +Mulford means to give me a try in the Loring game Saturday. And if I +don’t get this, Cornish will fix it so I can’t play. He as good as said +so.” + +“Didn’t you tell him you’d been busy with the fête and everything?” + +“Of course I did. Much he cared! Just made a rotten pun. Said I’d better +keep my own fate in mind. Puns are fearfully low and vulgar!” + +“Aren’t they? How much of that have you got?” + +“Six pages. I—I’ve sort of neglected it the last two days. Some fellows +can fake through, but I don’t have any luck. He’s always picking on me.” + +Laurie whistled expressively. “Six pages! Well, never say die, partner. +We’ll get down to supper early, and that’ll give us two hours before +nine.” + +“Us?” questioned Ned, hopefully. + +“Sure. I’ll give you a hand. As the well-known proverb so wisely +remarks, two heads are the shortest way home.” + +Ned grinned, and stopped tormenting his hair. “Honest? That’s mighty +decent, Laurie. I’ll do as much for you some day.” + +“Hope you won’t have to. Wash your dirty face and let’s beat it!” + +At half-past nine a more cheerful and much relieved Ned returned from +the hall master’s study. “All right,” he announced to an anxious Laurie. +“He was rather decent, too. Said he guessed that, in view of the +manifold affairs engaging my attention just now,—you know the crazy way +he talks,—he wouldn’t demand too much from me. Reckon he means to let +me down easy to-morrow, eh?” + +“Maybe, partner, and maybe not. Take my advice and, in the words of the +Scouts, be prepared!” + +Friday was a hectic day for Laurie and all others concerned with the +fête. Difficulties that had remained in ambush all the week sprang out +and confronted them at the last moment. Half a dozen things had been +forgotten, and every member of the committee sought to exonerate +himself. Tempers were short and the meeting in Dan Whipple’s room at +nine o’clock was far from harmonious. All went to bed that night firmly +convinced that the affair was doomed to be a flat failure. And, to add +to that conviction, the night sky was overcast and an unsympathetic +easterly wind was blowing. Ned, conscious of having imposed too many +duties on Laurie, was grouchy and silent; and Laurie, convinced that he +had been made a “goat” of, and that Ned was secretly blaming him for +mistakes and omissions that were no fault of his, retired in high +dudgeon. + +And yet, the morning dawned fair and warm, with an almost cloudless blue +sky over the world, and life looked very different indeed. Ned arose +whistling, and Laurie somehow knew that everything would be all right. +Fortunately, they had but two recitations on Saturday, and in +consequence there remained to them three whole hours before dinner to +devote to the affairs of the entertainment. They were busy hours, you +may be sure. If Ned hurried downtown once, he hurried there half a dozen +times; while Laurie, seated beside the driver of a rickety +express-wagon, rounded up all kinds of things, from the platform at the +field-house to the cakes at Miss Comfort’s. Dinner brought a respite; +but as soon as it was over, Laurie was back on the job, while Ned joined +the football-players. + +Of course, what the Hillman’s School football team should have done that +afternoon was to score a decisive victory over the visiting eleven. What +it did do was to get thoroughly worsted. Loring was something of a +surprise, with a heavier line and a faster bunch of backs than Hillman’s +had expected. And Loring knew a lot of football, and proved the fact +early in the game. At half-past two, by which time the second period was +half over, the result was a foregone conclusion. Loring had scored two +touch-downs and as many goals therefrom, and the Blue had never once +threatened the adversary’s last white line. Gains through the opponent +were infrequent and short, even Pope, who could generally be depended on +to tear off a few yards when the worst came to the worst, failing +dismally. + +In mid-field, Mason and Slavin made some stirring advances around the +Loring wings, and there were several successful forward passes to the +home team’s credit; but, once past Loring’s thirty-yard line, Hillman’s +seemed powerless. The third quarter went scoreless, and in the fourth, +realizing doubtless that defeat was certain, Coach Mulford used his +substitutes lavishly. Ned made his first appearance on the big team in +that period, taking Mason’s place for some eight of the fifteen minutes. +He did neither better nor worse than the other second- and third-string +fellows, perhaps—although, when Pope was taken out and Deering +substituted at full-back, he did his share of the punting and performed +very creditably. But that fourth period gave Loring an opportunity to +add to her score, and she seized it. Even with several substitutes in +her own line-up, she was still far better than Hillman’s, and a goal +from the field and, in the last few moments of the game, a third +touch-down, resulted. + +The Blue fought desperately and gamely with her back to the wall, in an +effort to stave off that last score; but eventually Holmes, who had +taken Kewpie’s place at center, weakened, and the Loring back piled +through. The final score was 23 to 0, and what two hours before had been +looked on as a victory or, at the worst, a tie, had become a cataclysm! +Humiliated, if not disgraced, the home-team players trailed to the +field-house with hanging heads, averting their eyes from the sight of +Loring’s triumphal march around the gridiron. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV—THE FETE + + +Behold Fairyland! + +Well, at least an excellent imitation of what Fairyland must look like. +Overhead, a clear, star-sprinkled sky; below, scores of gaily-hued +lanterns shedding their soft glow over a charming scene. Through the +side gate, please, on School Park. Twenty-five cents to the boy on duty +there, and you are inside, with the manifold attractions awaiting you. +On three sides of the transformed garden are the college booths, each +decked with bunting and flags of appropriate colors, and each presided +over by a patriotically attired young lady who will gladly, nay, +eagerly, sell you almost anything from a cake of soap (“Donated by the +Town Square Pharmacy, H. J. Congreve, Prop’r.”) to a knitted sweater or +a gingham house-dress (“Compliments of The New York Store, High Class +Dry Goods”). Near at hand, Yale is represented by Miss Polly Deane, +capped and aproned in blue, her eyes sparkling and her voice sweetly +insistent: “Won’t you buy something, please, sir? Post-cards, two for +five! These pictures are only fifty cents, all beautifully framed and +ready for hanging! Can I sell you something, ma’am?” + +Beyond, gay with orange and black, is the Princeton booth; and still +beyond, Dartmouth and Columbia and California; and then, a blur of +brilliant crimson through the leafage, Harvard. And so on all around the +garden, with merry voices sounding above the chatter of the throng that +moves here and there. Down the center of Fairyland runs a leafy tunnel +from within which blue and red and yellow and green rays twinkle. There, +under the hanging lanterns, little tables and chairs are dotted on the +gravel, and half a dozen aproned youths are busy bearing, not always +without mishap, plates of salad and rolls and dishes of ice-cream and +cake. Close to the back of the house is a platform illumined by a row of +electric lights, the one glaring spot in the area of soft radiance. + +“How’s it going?” asked a heavily-built youth of a slimmer one who had +paused at the entrance to the arbor. + +“Hello, Kewpie! Oh, bully, so far. We took in eighty-four dollars this +afternoon, and we’ll do at least twice as well to-night. They’re still +coming. Have you seen Whipple anywhere?” + +“Yes, a minute ago, down at the Pennsylvania booth. She’s a mighty +pretty girl, too, Nod. I bought a pocket-knife of her for a quarter, and +got stung; but I don’t mind. I’m going back to get another pretty soon. +When do I have to sing again?” + +“You follow Wilson’s clog-dance. We’re switching you and Cheesman, +Kewpie. His stuff is corking, but it’s pretty high-brow, and we thought +you’d better bring up the end and make the audience feel cheerful.” + +“All right; but it won’t feel very cheerful if those orchestra guys +don’t do better than they did this afternoon. They were four or five +notes behind me once! Nid said you had a new stunt this +evening—something you left out this afternoon.” + +“Yes; we couldn’t work it in daylight very well. It ought to go fine +to-night, though.” + +“What is it?” + +“You wait and see. I’ve got to find Whipple. Say, if you see Ned, tell +him I’ll be at the platform in five minutes and want him to meet me +there. Everybody keeps getting lost here!” + +On the way past the arbor, Laurie ran into George Watson, returning +across lots balancing a couple of plates in one hand and holding a large +slab of cake in the other, from which he nibbled as he went. “Hello!” he +said, none too distinctly. “I’ve been looking for you.” + +“Wanted to bring me refreshments, I suppose.” + +George looked at the empty plates, laughed, and shook his head. “Not +exactly. I’ve been feeding Cornell. Somebody ought to take eats to those +girls, Nod; they’re starving!” + +“All right; you do it.” + +“What do you think I am? A millionaire? I bought Mae a salad and an +ice-cream, and I’m about broke. Lend me a half, will you? Thanks. Want +an ice-cream? I’ll treat.” + +“No, thanks. Have you seen Dan Whipple?” + +“Sure! He’s over at the Pennsylvania booth, buying it out! Say, +everything’s going great, isn’t it? Couldn’t have had a finer evening, +either, what? Well, see you later. I’m hungry!” And George continued his +way to the house, where Miss Tabitha, surrounded by willing and hungry +helpers, presided sternly, but most capably, over the refreshments. + +At eight o’clock the boy on duty at the entrance estimated the +attendance as close to two hundred, which, added to the eighty-six paid +admissions before supper, brought the total close to the first estimate +of three hundred. It is safe to say that every Hillman’s boy attended +the fête either in the afternoon or evening, and that most of the +faculty came and brought Mrs. Faculty—when there was a Mrs. Faculty. +Doctor Hillman was spied by Laurie purchasing a particularly useless and +unlovely article in burnt wood from the auburn-haired Miss Hatch. Every +one seemed to be having a good time, and the only fly in the ointment of +the committee was the likelihood that the refreshments would be +exhausted far too soon. + +The Weather Man had kindly provided an evening of exceptional warmth, +with scarcely enough breeze to sway the paper lanterns that glowed from +end to end of the old garden, an evening so warm that ice-cream was more +in demand than sandwiches or salad; and fortunately so, since ice-cream +was the one article of refreshment that could be and was replenished. +If, said Ned, folks would stick to ice-cream and go light on the other +refreshments, they might get through. To which Laurie agreed, and Ned +hied him to the telephone and ordered another freezer sent up. + +At a few minutes after eight the Banjo and Mandolin Club took possession +of the chairs behind the platform and dashed into a military march. +Following that, six picked members of the Gymnastic Club did some very +clever work, and Cheesman, a tall and rather soulful-looking upper +middler, sang two ballads very well indeed, and then, as an encore, +quite took the joy out of life with “Suwanee River”! Little Miss +Comfort, present through the courtesy of the Committee on Arrangements, +sniffled quite audibly, but was heard to declare that “it was just too +sweet for anything!” A rather embarrassed junior attempted some card +tricks that didn’t go very well, and then Wilson, garbed more or less in +the character of an Irish gentleman returning from Donnybrook Fair, and +swinging a shillaly, did some jig-dancing that was really clever and won +much applause. + +There was a brief unofficial intermission while three anxious committee +members made search for Kewpie Proudtree. He was presently discovered +consuming his fourth plate of ice-cream in the seclusion of the side +porch, and was haled away, protesting, to the platform. In spite of what +may seem an over-indulgence in refreshment, Kewpie was in excellent +voice and a jovial mood, and sang four rollicking songs in a manner that +captured his audience. In fact, long after Kewpie had vanished from the +public gaze and returned to his ice-cream, the audience still demanded +more. + +Its attention was eventually captured, however, by Dan Whipple, who +announced importantly that it gave him much pleasure to say that, at a +great expense, the committee had secured as an added attraction the +world-famed Signor Duodelli, who, with their kind permission, would +exhibit for their pleasure and astoundment his miraculous act known as +the Vanishing Man, as performed before the crowned heads of Europe, to +the bewilderment and applause of all beholders. “Ladies and gentlemen, +Signor Duodelli!” + +The Signor had a noticeable likeness to Lew Cooper, in spite of his +gorgeous mustache and flowing robe of red and purple cheese-cloth. Yet +it might not have been Lew, for his manner was extremely foreign and his +gestures and the few words he used in directing the arranging of his +“properties” were unmistakably Latin. The properties consisted of a +kitchen chair, a threefold screen covered with black baize, and a coil +of rope. There was also in evidence a short wand, but the Signor held +that in his hand, waving it around most eloquently. The audience laughed +and applauded and waited patiently until the chair had been placed +exactly to the Signor’s liking, close to the back of the platform, and +the screen beside it. Previously several of the lights had been put out, +and those that remained threw their glare on the front of the stage, +leaving the back, while discernible, less in evidence. + +“Now,” announced the Signor, narrowly escaping from falling off the +platform as he tripped over his robe, “I aska da some one coma up and +giva da help. Any one I aska. You, Signor, maybe, eh?” The magician +pointed his wand at Mr. Cornish, in the front of the clustered audience; +but the gentleman laughingly declined. The Signor seemed disappointed. +“No-o-o? You no geta da hurt. Some one else, eh?” He looked invitingly +around, and a small junior, urged by his companions, struggled to the +front. Unfortunately for his ambitions to pose in the lime-light, the +Signor’s glance had moved to another quarter, and, ere the junior could +get his attention, a volunteer appeared from the semi-obscurity of the +kitchen porch. He was peculiarly attired, wearing a simple white garment +having a strong resemblance to the old-fashioned night-shirt, that +covered him completely from neck to ankles. He was bareheaded, revealing +the fact that his locks were red-brown in hue. + +“Ah!” exclaimed the Signor, delightedly. “You will helpa me, _si_? Right +thisa way, Signor. I thanka you!” + +“That’s one of the Turner fellows,” muttered a boy, while the small +junior and his companions called “Fake!” loudly. However, the +good-natured laughter of the audience drowned the accusation, and some +two hundred pairs of eyes watched amusedly and expectantly while, with +the assistance of two other volunteers, the youth in the white robe was +tied securely to the chair. + +“Maka him tight,” directed the Signor, enthusiastically, waving his +wand. “Pulla da knot. Ha, thata da way! Good! Signors, I thanka you!” + +The two who had tied the victim to the chair retired from the platform. +The Signor seized the screen and opened it wide and turned it around and +closed it and turned it again. + +“You seea?” he demanded. “There is nothing that deceive! Now, then, I +placea da screen so!” He folded it around the boy and the chair, leaving +only the side away from the audience uncovered. He drew away the width +of the platform, and, “Music, ifa you please,” he requested. The +orchestra, whose members had moved their chairs to one side, struck up a +merry tune, and the Signor, folding his arms, bent a rapt gaze on the +blank, impenetrable blackness of the screen. A brief moment passed. Then +the Signor bade the music cease, took a step forward, and pointed to the +screen. + +“Away!” he cried, and swung his arm in a half-circle, his body following +with a weird flaring of his brilliant robes until, with outstretched +finger, he faced the audience. “Ha! He come! Thisa way, Signor! Comea +quick!” + +As one man the audience turned and followed the pointing finger. Through +the deserted arbor came a boy in a white garment. He pushed his way +through the throng and jumped to the stage. As he did so, the Signor +whisked aside the screen. There was the chair empty, and there was the +rope dangling from it, twisted and knotted. + +A moment of surprised silence gave place to hearty applause. +Theoretically it might have been possible for the boy in the chair to +vanish from behind the screen, reach the farther end of the garden, and +run back into sight; but actually, as the audience realized on second +thought, it couldn’t possibly have been done in the few seconds, surely +not more than ten, that had elapsed between the placing of the screen +and the appearance of the boy behind them. And then, how had he got +himself free from the rope? An audience likes to be puzzled, and this +one surely was. The garden hummed with conjecture and discussion. There +were some there who could have explained the seeming phenomenon, but +they held their counsel. + +Meanwhile, on the platform the Signor was modestly bowing alternately to +the audience and to his subject, the latter apparently no worse for his +magic transposition. And the orchestra again broke into its interrupted +melody. The applause became insistent, but Signor Duodelli, perhaps +because his contract with the committee called for no further evidence +of his powers, only bowed and bowed and at last disappeared into the +obscurity of the shadows. Whereupon the Banjo and Mandolin Club moved +into the house, and presently the strains of a one-step summoned the +dancers to the big drawing-room. + +Laurie, unconsciously rubbing a wrist, smiled as he listened to the +comments of the dissolving audience. “Well, but there’s no getting +around the fact that it was the same boy,” declared a pompous little +gentleman to his companion. “Same hair and eyes and everything! Couldn’t +be two boys as much alike, eh? Not possibly! Very clever!” + +Laurie chuckled as he made his way to Polly’s booth. That young lady +looked a little tired, and, by the same token, so did the Yale booth! +Only a bare dozen framed pictures and a small number of post-cards +remained of her stock. “Don’t you think I’ve done awfully well?” asked +Polly, a trifle pathetically. She seemed to need praise, and Laurie +supplied it. + +“Corking, Polly,” he assured her. “I guess you’ve sold more than any of +the others, haven’t you?” + +“N-no, I guess some of the others have done better, Nod; but I think +they had more attractive articles, don’t you? Anyhow, I’ve taken in +twelve dollars and thirty cents since supper, and I made four dollars +and eighty-five cents this afternoon; only I must have dropped a dime +somewhere, for I’m ten cents short. Or perhaps someone didn’t give me +the right amount.” + +“Why, that’s seventeen dollars!” exclaimed Laurie. “I didn’t think you +had anywhere near seventeen dollars’ worth of things here, Polly!” + +“Oh, I didn’t! Not nearly! Why, if I’d sold things at the prices marked +on them, Nod, I wouldn’t have had more than half as much! But lots of +folks _wanted_ to pay more, and I let them. Mr. Conklin, the jeweler, +bought a picture, one of the funny landscapes with the frames that +didn’t fit at the corners, and he said it was ridiculous to sell it for +a quarter, and he gave me a dollar for it. Then he held the picture up +and just laughed and laughed at it! I guess he just wanted to spend his +money, don’t you? You know, Ned said we were to get as much as we could +for things, so I usually added ten cents to the price that was marked on +them—sometimes more, if a person looked extravagant. One lady came back +and said she’d paid twenty-five cents for a picture and it was marked +fifteen on the back. I said I was sorry she was dissatisfied and I’d be +very glad to buy it back from her for twenty.” + +Laurie laughed. “What did she say to that?” he asked. + +“She said if I wanted it bad enough to pay twenty cents for it she +guessed it was worth twenty-five, and went off and didn’t come back.” +Polly laughed and then sighed. “I’m awfully tired. Doesn’t that music +sound lovely? Do you dance?” + +Laurie shook his head. “No; but, say, if you want to go in there, I’ll +watch the booth for you.” + +Polly hesitated. “It’s funny you don’t,” she said. “Don’t you like it?” + +It was Laurie’s turn to hesitate. “No, not much. I never have danced. +It—it seems sort of silly.” He looked at Polly doubtfully. Although he +wouldn’t have acknowledged it, he was more than half sorry that dancing +was not included among his accomplishments. + +“It isn’t silly at all,” asserted Polly, almost indignantly. “You ought +to learn. Mae could teach you to one-step in no time at all!” + +“I guess that’s about the way I’d do it,” answered Laurie, sadly—“in no +time at all! Don’t you—couldn’t _you_ teach a fellow?” + +“I don’t believe so. I never tried to teach any one. Besides, Mae dances +lots better than I do. She put the things she had left on Grace +Boswell’s booth and went inside the minute the music started. She wanted +me to come, but I thought I shouldn’t,” added Polly, virtuously. + +“You go ahead now,” urged Laurie. “I’ll stay here till you come back. It +isn’t fair for you girls to miss the dancing. Besides, I guess there +won’t be much more sold now. Folks have begun to go, some of them, and +most of the others are inside.” + +Polly looked toward the house. Through the big wide-open windows the +lilting music of a waltz floated out. The Banjo and Mandolin Club was +really doing very well to-night. Polly sighed once and looked wistful. +Then she shook her head. “Thanks, Nod,” she said, “but I guess I’ll stay +here. Some one _might_ come.” + +“What do you care? You don’t own ’em! Anyway, I guess I could sell a +post-card if I had to!” + +“You’d have trouble selling any of those pictures,” laughed Polly. +“Aren’t they dreadful? Where did they come from?” + +“Pretty fierce,” Laurie agreed. “They came from the Metropolitan +Furniture Store. The man dug them out of a corner in the cellar. I guess +he’d had them for years! Anyway, there was enough dust on them to choke +you. He seemed awfully tickled when we agreed to take them and let him +alone!” + +“I should think he might have! We girls agreed to buy things from each +other, just to help, but the only things they bought from me were +post-cards!” Polly laughed as though at some thought; and Laurie, who +had elevated himself to an empty corner of the booth and was swinging +his feet against the blue draping in front, looked inquiringly. “I was +just thinking about the boys,” explained Polly. + +“What about them? What boys do you mean?” Laurie asked coldly. + +“The high school boys. They’re awfully peeved because we girls took part +in this, and not one of them has been here, I guess.” + +“Cheeky beggars,” grumbled Laurie. “Guess we can do without them, +though. Here comes Bob’s father.” + +Mr. Starling was bent on a most peculiar mission. Laurie and Polly +watched him stop at the next booth and engage in conversation. Then a +fat pocket-book was produced, a bill was tendered, and Mr. Starling +strolled on. At the Yale booth he stopped again. + +“Well, Turner,” he greeted, “this affair looks like a huge success, +doesn’t it? Why aren’t you young folks inside there, dancing?” + +“I don’t dance, sir,” answered Laurie, somewhat to his chagrin in a most +apologetic tone. “And Polly thinks she ought to stand by the ship. This +is Polly Deane, Mr. Starling.” + +Bob’s father shook hands cordially across the depleted counter and +assured its proprietor that he was very glad indeed to make her +acquaintance. Then he added: “But you don’t seem to have much left, Miss +Polly. Now, I’m a great hand at a bargain. I dare say that if you made +me a fair price for what there is here I’d jump at it. What do you say?” + +Polly apparently didn’t know just what to say for a minute, and her gaze +sought counsel of Laurie. + +“If you ask me,” laughed the latter, “I’d say fifty cents was a big +price for the lot!” + +“You’re not in charge,” said Mr. Starling, almost severely. “I’m sure +the young lady has better business ability. Suppose you name a price, +Miss Polly.” + +“We-ell—” Polly did some mental arithmetic, and then, doubtfully: “A +dollar and a half, sir,” she said. + +“Done!” replied Mr. Starling. He drew forth a two-dollar bill. “There +you are! Just leave the things where they are. I’ll look after them +later. Now you youngsters go in and dance. What’s this? Change? My dear +young lady, don’t you know that change is never given at an affair of +this kind? I really couldn’t think of taking it. It—it’s a criminal +offense!” And Mr. Starling nodded and walked away. + +“By Jove, he’s a brick!” exclaimed Laurie, warmly. “Look, he’s doing the +same thing everywhere!” + +“I know,” answered Polly, watching. “It’s just dear of him, isn’t it? +But, Nod, _what_ do you suppose he will do with these awful pictures?” + +“The same thing he will do with that truck he’s buying now,” was the +laughing reply. “He will probably put them in the furnace!” + +“Well,” said Polly, after a moment, “I suppose we might as well go +inside, don’t you? We can look on, anyway, and”—with a stifled +sigh—“I’d ’most as lief look on as dance.” + +Laurie followed, for the second time in his life wishing that the +Terpsichorean art had been included in his education! + + + + +CHAPTER XV—NED HAS AN IDEA + + +“Three hundred and thirty-three dollars and eighty-five cents,” said +Ned, in very satisfied tones. “We took in three hundred and sixty-three +five, but we had twenty-nine twenty to come out for expenses. Not so +bad, what?” + +“But something tells me,” answered Laurie, mournfully, “that if all our +expenses were deducted we’d have less than that. You see,” he explained +to Polly, “I lost the piece of paper that I set down the money I paid +out on, and I just had to guess what it all came to, because I’d never +had time to add it up.” + +“I dare say you guessed enough,” replied Ned, untroubled. + +“I dare say I didn’t, then!” was the indignant response. “If I did, +where’s all the money I had when I started? I’ve got a dollar and ninety +cents left, and I had over four dollars when you roped me in on the +thing! I’m more than two dollars shy, I tell you!” + +“Oh, well, it’s gone for a worthy cause,” laughed Ned. + +“Maybe,” Laurie grumbled, “but I notice that none of yours has gone that +way. You always made me pay for everything!” + +“Well, I think you did it beautifully,” said Polly. “I never suspected +you’d make so much!” + +They were in the little garden behind the shop. It was the second day +after the fête, and the bell in the Congregational church tower had just +struck two. There was a perceptible nip in the air to-day, and the +flowers in the border showed blackened leaves, while the nasturtiums +were frankly limp and lifeless. But here in the sunshine it was warm +enough, and Laurie, spurning the bench, was seated tailor fashion on the +yellowing turf. Polly had stated her absolute certitude that he would +catch cold, but Laurie derided the idea. + +“We’re awfully much obliged to you girls,” said Ned. “We wouldn’t have +done nearly so well if you hadn’t helped. I think the committee ought to +give you a—a vote of thanks or something.” + +“Oh, we all loved it!” Polly assured him earnestly. “We had heaps of +fun. Why, I wouldn’t have missed that disappearing trick for anything. I +was positively thrilled when Laurie came running up the garden!” + +The boys’ laughter interrupted, and Polly looked puzzled. + +“That wasn’t Laurie,” explained Ned. “That was me.” + +“But I was sure you were the one in the chair! And if you were in the +chair, how could you—” + +“I wasn’t, though. That was Laurie.” + +Polly sighed despairingly. “I’ll never get so I can tell you apart,” she +said; “unless I hear you talk, that is! I don’t see yet how it was done. +Won’t you please tell me?” + +“It was as easy as easy,” replied Ned. “You see, the way I planned it +first—” + +“The way _who_ planned it?” inquired Laurie. + +“Well, the way _we_ planned it, then.” + +“Hold on! Whose idea was it in the first place, partner?” + +“Oh, don’t be so fussy! Anyway, you couldn’t have done it without me!” + +“I never said I could. But you’ve got a lot of cheek to talk about the +way _you—_” + +Polly clapped her hands to her ears. “I’m not being told how it was +done, and I do want to know. Go on, Ned.” + +“Well, it was done like this. You see, Laurie was tied to the chair, and +I was hiding out at the other end of the garden. Then Lew Cooper put the +screen around the chair.” Polly nodded. “Then I started toward the +platform, and every one turned to look at me.” Polly nodded again. +“Well, right behind the platform was the bulkhead door into the cellar. +When Cooper shouted to me to come on, two fellows who were on the stairs +waiting pushed the door open, grabbed Laurie, chair and all, and whisked +him down cellar. Then they put another chair, just like the first one, +behind the screen, and when Cooper pulled the screen away, there it was, +just as if Laurie had somehow untied himself and—and vanished! Of +course, if any one had been looking at the screen instead of at me just +then, he might have seen what was going on, although it was pretty dark +behind there and he mightn’t have. Anyway, no one was, I guess. The +trick depended on the—the faint similarity between us. Lots of fellows +who knew us were on to it, but the folks from the village were puzzled +for fair!” + +“Indeed they were,” agreed Polly. “They just couldn’t understand it at +all!” + +“It would have been better,” mused Laurie, “if we could have taken the +screen away and showed the empty chair before Ned came into sight; but +there didn’t seem to be any way of doing that. We had to have the people +looking the other way, and we had to work quick. As it was, I was half +killed, for Wainwright and Plummer were in such a hurry to get the other +chair up there that they just dumped me on my back! And then they ran +upstairs through the kitchen to see the end of it, and I was kicking +around down there for five minutes!” + +“Well,” said Ned, a few minutes later, “I’m not finding out what to do +with this.” He opened one hand and exposed some bills and two ten-cent +pieces folded into a wad. “Your mother says she won’t take it, +Polly—that she didn’t understand we were going to pay her for the +cream-puffs. Gee, we wouldn’t have thought of asking her to make them +for nothing!” + +Polly nodded sympathetically. “Mother says, though, that the boys bring +so much trade to her that it’s only fair for her to help them.” + +“That’s poppy-cock!” said Laurie. “Seven dollars and twenty cents is a +lot of money. Look here; don’t you think she ought to take it, Polly?” + +Polly was silent a moment. Then she nodded affirmatively. “Yes, I do,” +she said frankly. “She really needs the money, Ned. I wouldn’t tell any +one else, but we’re just frightfully hard up, and I wouldn’t be a bit +surprised if Mother had to give up here before very long.” + +“Give up!” exclaimed Ned. “You mean—go away?” + +“Yes. You see, she doesn’t make very much money in the store; nothing +like she used to before the war sent prices so high. And then, what with +taxes and water and light, and the interest on the mortgage, why, it +hardly pays. Just the same, if she says she won’t take the money, Ned, +why, I guess she won’t, and that’s all there is to it. But she ought +to!” + +“Can’t she charge more for things?” asked Laurie. “Everyone else does +nowadays. That bake-shop down on Hudson Street gets eight cents for +cream-puffs and éclairs, and you sell them for six.” + +“I know; but Mama says six cents is enough and that the boys oughtn’t to +have to pay any more. And lots of things she sells for hardly any more +than she used to before prices advanced. Why, I have to watch all the +time; and when bills come in for things, I have to compare them with +what we’re getting for them, and lots of times I find that Mama’s been +selling for less than what she’s paid! She just won’t be a profiteer, +she says!” + +“Gee! I hope you don’t have to shut up,” said Laurie. He looked around +the little garden. “It—it’s such a jolly place! And the house and +everything. Gee, that would be a shame!” + +Polly sighed while she nodded. “It is nice,” she agreed; “but there are +so many things that ought to be done! Uncle Peter never would do much +for us. He did promise to have the house painted, but he died about a +month after that, and so it was never done.” + +“Suppose he up and died so’s he wouldn’t have to do it?” inquired +Laurie, suspiciously. + +Polly shook her head and looked a trifle shocked, until she caught the +smile in Ned’s eyes. + +“It doesn’t look as if it would cost much money to paint it,” remarked +Ned, looking up at the rear of the little two-and-a-half-story building. +“It’s not much more than a doll’s house, anyway. How many rooms are +there, Polly?” + +“Three upstairs, and then a sort of attic room under the roof; and two +downstairs.” + +“Uh-huh. I just wondered. It wouldn’t be much of a trick to paint the +outside. Bet you I could do it in a couple of days.” + +Laurie gasped. “A couple of days! You? How do you get like that? It +would take a real painter a week to do it!” + +“Maybe; but I’m not a real painter,” answered Ned, grinning. He glanced +at the crumpled wad in his hand and held it tentatively toward Polly. +“Maybe you’d better take charge of this, Polly, until we decide what to +do with it.” + +But Polly put her hands resolutely behind her, and shook her head with +decision. “No, Ned, I’d rather not. If Mama says she won’t have it, she +won’t, and you might just as well give it back to the—the fund.” + +Somewhat to Laurie’s surprise, Ned pocketed the money without further +protest. “All right,” he said. “It’s very kind of your mother. We +mustn’t forget to see that her name’s included in the list of those who +donated things, Laurie. This week’s ‘Messenger’ is going to tell all +about it. Well, I’ve got to pull my freight. You coming, partner?” + +“Yes, I guess so,” replied Laurie, without much enthusiasm. “I promised +Bob and George to get another fellow and play some tennis this +afternoon.” + +“Gee! it must be great to have nothing to do but play,” sighed his +brother. + +“Huh, any one would think, to hear you talk, that you were working,” +replied Laurie, crushingly. “All you do is stand around and watch the +others.” + +“Think so?” Ned smiled in a superior way. “You come down this afternoon +and see how much standing around I do. Joe Stevenson says I’ve got to +practise goals now. Isn’t that the limit?” + +“I suppose it pains him to see you loafing,” said Laurie. “Anyway, I +dare say it’ll keep you out of mischief.” + +Laurie led the way to the back fence, against which leaned a plank with +two pieces of wood nailed across it. This afforded a short cut to and +from school, and was an idea of Bob’s. From the top of the fence they +dropped into the shrubbery and then made their way to the side gate. + +The arbor had not yet been denuded of its evergreen clothing, and there +were other evidences of the recent festival in the shape of crumpled +paper napkins lying on the ground. Thomas had taken down the lanterns +and was packing them away in their case by the kitchen porch, and the +boys called a greeting to him as they passed. + +“Bob still mean to make a tennis-court here?” asked Ned, as they went +through the gate. + +“Yes. He’s going to tear down that arbor right away, he says. So far, +though, he hasn’t found any one to do the work on the court. Every one +is busy. I don’t believe he will get it done in time to use it this +fall.” + +“Of course he won’t. It’s nearly November now. Say, you’d better take +this money and hand it over to Whipple. You’ll see him before I do. And +tell him to put Mrs. Deane’s name down with the other folks who +contributed, will you?” + +“All right; but I think it’s a shame to let her stand for all those +cakes.” + +“So do I; only—” + +“Only what?” + +“Maybe we can make it up to her another way. I’ve got an idea, Laurie.” + +“I hope it’s better than most of ’em. What is it?” + +And when Ned had explained it, Laurie considered a long moment and then +indorsed it enthusiastically. “That’s corking!” he cried. “For once, +Ned, the old bean has worked! Only, when could we—” + +“Christmas vacation,” said Ned. “We won’t have much to do then. What do +you say?” + +“I say that, for the first time in my life, Neddie, I’m proud to +acknowledge you as my twin!” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI—POLLY TELLS A SPOOK STORY + + +Assured of sufficient funds to complete its season without financial +embarrassment, the Hillman’s football team seemed to take a new and +firmer grip on things. Practice went well that week, and the players +showed vim and snap. Perhaps the colder weather helped, too. The line-up +that faced the scrubs on Friday for a short scrimmage was, barring +accidents, that which would, four weeks later, start the game against +Hillman’s old rival, Farview Academy. Farley and White were at the ends, +Captain Stevenson and Pringle were the tackles, Emerson and Corson were +the guards, and Kewpie Proudtree was at center. Frank Brattle at +quarter, Mason and Slavin for halves, and Pope at full-back composed the +rest of the team. There were some weak places, to be sure; but, on the +whole, Coach Mulford was fairly satisfied that he had the parts for a +capable machine. + +Ned was still playing on the scrub eleven, and doing rather well. As a +punter, at least, he deserved his position at left half, and it might be +that he would develop into a fair goal-kicker; for in the last four +days, under the tuition of the coach and full-back Pope, he had shown +excellent promise. Those morning lessons, now abandoned, had grounded +Ned well in the art of toeing the pigskin, and, whatever fame the future +might hold for him as punter or drop-kicker or place-kicker, much of the +credit would be Kewpie’s. + +To-day, in the second ten minutes of the scrimmaging,—there was but +twenty minutes in all,—Thursby, playing quarter, and probably acting +under instructions, gave Ned his first chance to show what he could do +in the way of field goals. Unable to reach a point nearer than twenty +yards to the school team’s goal, Thursby called for “kick formation, +Turner back,” and Ned went up-field with his heart in his mouth. +Although the cross-bar was less than thirty yards from where he took his +stand and almost directly in front of him, it looked to Ned to be a +woeful distance away and the angle much more severe than it was. But he +didn’t have much time for reflection, for Thursby called his signal +quickly, and the leather came back to him at a good pass, and the school +team was crashing through. + +Ned always thought that he closed his eyes when he swung his toe against +the rebounding ball and trusted to luck, but I doubt it, for the pigskin +described a perfect arc and went well and true over the bar, and if Ned +had had his eyes closed I don’t believe the pigskin would have acted +that way at all. Most of the scrub team players thumped him on the back +and showed their delight in other ways, for they had not scored on the +school team for nearly a week; while, at a little distance, Coach +Mulford nodded his head almost imperceptibly. It was too bad Ned didn’t +see that nod, for it would have pleased him far more than the buffets of +his team-mates. + +The next day Hillman’s made a trip to Warring and played the Lansing +team to a standstill, returning with a 22-0 victory tucked under its +belt. Ned got into the game for a bare five minutes at the last, as did +half a dozen other substitutes; but he was not called on to kick any +goals, for which he was at once sorry and glad. To have had the eyes of +nearly a thousand persons on him would, he thought, have precluded any +possibility of success; but, on the other hand, had he succeeded—He +sighed for lost opportunities! + +The attendance that afternoon was a matter of great joy to Manager Dave +Murray, for Hillman’s went home with a neat sum as its share of the +day’s profits, a sum far larger than he had counted on—large enough, in +fact, to make up the difference between the net receipts from the fête +and the three hundred and fifty dollars aimed at. + +Hillman’s good fortune held for another week. There were no accidents +during practice; every fellow in the line-up played for all that was in +him; and the scrubs took a licking every afternoon. Ned twice more +gained glory as a drop-kicker, although on a third occasion he failed +lamentably. Unfortunately, neither of his successes brought victory to +his team, since the opponents had on each occasion a safe lead in the +scoring. Every afternoon, following the scrimmage, Ned was presented by +the coach with a nice battle-scarred football, and instructed to go down +to the east goal and “put some over.” Sometimes Hop Kendrick or Ben +Thursby went with him to hold the ball while he tried placement-kicks, +and always an unhappy substitute was delegated to retrieve the pigskin +for him; but the coach let him pretty much alone, and Pope looked on +only occasionally and was surprisingly sparing of comment or advice. And +yet, Ned improved, rather to his surprise, since he felt himself +neglected and, as he said to Laurie, didn’t see how they expected a +fellow to learn goal-kicking if they didn’t show him a little! But, +although he didn’t realize it, Ned had reached a point in his +development where he was best left to his own devices, and Coach Mulford +knew it and forbore to risk confusing him with unnecessary instruction. +So Ned pegged away doggedly, and got results, as he considered, in spite +of the coach! + +Against the Queens Preparatory Institute, which journeyed up from the +city on Saturday, the Blue was able to emerge from four grueling +fifteen-minute periods with the score 6-6, from the Blue’s standpoint a +very satisfactory showing, for Q. P. I. was a much-heralded team and had +downed stronger elevens than Hillman’s. So November began its second +week, and cloudy days and not infrequently rainy ones took the place of +the sunny weather of October. + +Laurie would have been somewhat at a loss for a way in which to spend +his afternoons at that time, had it not been for Bob Starling’s +overmastering desire to build a tennis-court in the garden of the +Coventry place. The weather was far too cold for tennis, although now +and then he and Bob played George and Lee Murdock, and the wrecking of +the old grape-arbor, preparatory to digging up the sod, proved a welcome +diversion. Sometimes Thomas took a hand; but Thomas had plenty to do +indoors, and the work was accomplished almost wholly by Bob and Laurie, +with the occasional moral support of George or Lee. + +Usually an hour’s labor with hammer or crowbar ended with an adjournment +to the Widow Deane’s, by way of the back fence, for refreshments. +Sometimes it was warm enough to foregather in the little garden behind +the shop and, armed with cream-puffs or tarts, spend a jolly half-hour +in the society of Polly and Mae. At such times Mrs. Deane, hearing the +shouts and laughter, came to the back door and smiled in sympathy. + +One glorious afternoon of mingled sunlight and frost there was an +excursion afoot out into the country in search of nuts. Polly and Mae +and Laurie and George and Bob and Lee formed the party. They carried two +baskets, one of which George wore on his head most of the way, to the +wonderment of the infrequent passers. Mae knew, or thought she knew, +where there were chestnut trees, and led the way for three miles to what +is called Two Jug Ridge. The chestnut trees, however, were, according to +Laurie, away for the afternoon. They found some hickory nuts, not quite +ready to leave their husks, and a few beech-nuts, and after gathering +those they sat on a broad, flat boulder and looked down on Orstead and +Little Windsor and some twelve miles of the Hudson River, and talked a +good deal of nonsense—all except Lee, who went to sleep with his cap +pulled over his eyes, and had a cold in his head for days after. George +decided that when he was through college and was married, he would come +back there and build a bungalow just where they were seated. + +“This will do for the front door-step,” he expounded, “and over there +will be a closed-in porch with an open fireplace and a Gloucester +hammock.” + +“That all you’re going to have?” asked Bob. “No kitchen?” + +“Oh, there’ll be a kitchen, all right, and a dining-room—no, I guess +we’ll eat on the porch. Wouldn’t it be a dandy place, though? Look at +the view!” + +“Fine,” said Laurie, without much enthusiasm, remembering the last +uphill mile. “Don’t mind if I don’t come to see you often, though, do +you?” + +“Not a bit! Nobody asked you, anyway.” + +“You could live on nuts,” murmured Polly, “and could have shaggy-barks +for breakfast and beech-nuts for dinner and—” + +“Grape-nuts for supper,” said Laurie, coming to the rescue. + +“And you could call the place the Squirrel-Cage,” suggested Bob. + +And that reminded Mae of a story her father had told of a man who had +lived in the woods farther down the river some years before, and who ate +nothing but nuts and things he found in the forest. “He lived all alone +in a little cabin he’d built, and folks said he was a deserter from the +army, and—” + +“What army?” George asked. + +“The Northern Army, of course.” + +“I thought you might mean the Salvation Army. Then this was quite awhile +ago, wasn’t it?” + +“Of course, stupid! Years and years ago. And finally, when he died, +folks found that he wasn’t a deserter at all, but a general or a major +or something, and they found a prize that the government had given him, +some sort of a medal for bravery in battle. Wasn’t that sad?” + +“Well,” replied Laurie, doubtfully, “I suppose it was. I suppose the +government would have shown better judgment if they’d given him a bag of +nuts. Of course, he couldn’t eat that medal!” + +“You’re horrid! Anyway, it just shows that you mustn’t judge folks +by—by outward appearances, doesn’t it?” + +“Rather! I’ve always said that, too. Take George, for example. Just to +look at him, you’d never think he had any sense at all; but at times—” + +“Lay off of George,” interrupted that young gentleman, threateningly. +“If folks judged you by the way you talk, you’d be inside a nice high +wall!” + +Why the talk should have drifted from there to the subject of ghosts and +uncanny happenings isn’t apparent, but it did. In the midst of it, Lee +gave a tremendous snore that scared both the girls horribly, and sat up +suddenly, blinking. “Hello!” he muttered. Then he yawned and grinned +foolishly. “Guess I must have dropped off,” he said apologetically. + +“You didn’t,” said George. “If you had you’d have waked up quicker! Cut +out the chatter; Polly’s telling a spook yarn.” + +Lee gathered up a handful of beech-nuts and was silent except for the +sound he made in cracking the shells. + +“It isn’t much of a story,” disclaimed Polly, “but it—it _was_ funny. +It began just after Mama and I came here. I mean, that was the first +time. One night, after we had gone to bed, Mama called me. ‘I think +there’s some one downstairs, Polly,’ she whispered. We both listened, +and, sure enough, we could hear a sort of tapping sound. It wasn’t like +footsteps, exactly; more—more hollow, as if it came from a long way +off. But it sounded right underneath. We listened a minute or two, and +then it stopped and didn’t begin again; and presently we lighted a +candle and went downstairs, and nobody was there and everything was +quite all right. So we thought that perhaps what we’d heard was some one +walking along the street. + +“We didn’t hear it again for nearly two weeks, and then it lasted +longer—maybe two minutes. It got louder; and stopped, and began again, +and died away; and we sat there and listened, and I thought of ghosts +and everything except robbers, because it didn’t sound like any one in +the store. It was more as if it was some one in the cellar.” + +“Well, maybe it was,” suggested Laurie, when Polly paused. + +“That’s what we thought, Nod, until we went to see. Then we remembered +that there wasn’t any cellar!” + +“Oh!” said Laurie. + +“What happened then?” asked Lee, flicking a shell at George. + +“It kept on happening every little while for two years. We got so we +didn’t think any more about it. Mr. Farmer, the lawyer, said what we +heard was probably a rat. But I know very well it wasn’t that. It was +too regular. It was always just the same each time. At first we could +just hear it a little, and then it grew louder and louder, and stopped. +And then it began again, loud, and just sort of—of trailed off till you +couldn’t hear it at all. I suppose we never would have heard it if it +hadn’t been for Mama not sleeping very well, because it always came +after midnight, usually about half-past twelve. After a while I didn’t +hear it at all, because Mama stopped waking me up.” + +“Spooks,” declared George, with unction. “The house is haunted, Polly.” + +“Wish I lived there,” said Bob eagerly. “I’m crazy about ghosts. They +told me that old Coven—I mean your uncle, Polly—haunted the house +we’re in; but, gee! I’ve been around at all times of night and never +seen a thing! There are lots of jolly, shivery noises—stairs creaking, +and woodwork popping, and all that, you know; but nary a ghost. Look +here, Polly! Let me sit down in the store some night, will you? I’d love +to!” + +“You’ve got funny ideas of fun,” murmured George. + +“Oh, but it’s gone now,” said Mae. “Hasn’t it, Polly? You haven’t heard +the noise for a long time, have you?” + +“No, not for—oh, two years, I think. At least, that’s what Mama says. +Maybe, though, she sleeps better and doesn’t hear things.” + +“I guess Mr. What’s-his-name was right,” said Lee. “It was probably a +rat, or a family of rats.” + +“Rats wouldn’t make the same sound every time,” scoffed Laurie. + +“They might. Trained rats might. Maybe they escaped from a circus.” + +“And maybe you escaped from an asylum,” responded Laurie, getting up. +“Let’s take him home before he gets violent.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII—LAURIE MAKES A PROTEST + + +The football team continued to add victories, and as the fateful 20th of +November approached enthusiasm grew until, after the Whittier game, +which Hillman’s won by a field goal in the final hectic two minutes, it +became more a furore than enthusiasm. Ned, by that time, had settled +down to a realization that, no matter what progress he made this fall, +no matter how adept he became at kicking a football down the field or +over the cross-bar, he would not make the first team; that, in short, he +was being educated as next year material. There was no injustice in +this, and he realized it; for, aside from his proficiency as a kicker, +he was not in the class with the school team backs. He couldn’t worm his +way through a hole in the opposing line the way Slavin could, nor smash +through the defense the way Mason did, nor dodge and side-step in a +broken field like Pope. Once going, Ned was rather hard to stop, for he +displayed some of the slippery qualities of an eel; but it took him ten +yards to get his speed up, and the opponents had a discouraging way of +getting through and flooring him before the tenth yard was won! But he +had grown to love the game, and no one toiled more conscientiously. +There were times when Laurie devoutly wished that Ned hadn’t taken up +the game, for after a half-hour of Ned’s chatter Laurie found the +subject of football a trifle dull. + +On the Wednesday before the Farview contest the Orstead High School team +came over for a practice game. At least, Hillman’s called it a practice +game and considered it such; but High School had blood in her eye and +was secretly determined to wreak all the vengeance possible. Once a +year, for the space of some three hours, Orstead High School swore +allegiance to Hillman’s and turned out at the field and rooted valiantly +for the Blue while she battled with Farview. But all the rest of the +time she was frankly hostile and derisive. This Wednesday afternoon the +hostility was apparent from the first. More than a hundred boys and a +scattering of girls followed their team to the Hillman’s field and +demanded revenge for the early-season defeat, while the High School +team, which had passed through a rather successful season and was not at +all the aggregation that the Blue had beaten 10 to 7, started right out +after it. + +Coach Mulford began with his first-string players, and against them High +School was not dangerous, although there were anxious moments. The +second period ended with the score 7—0 in Hillman’s favor, only a +fumble by Slavin on High School’s eight yards saving the visitor from a +second touch-down. When the third quarter began, Coach Mulford put in +nearly a new eleven, only Kewpie Proudtree, Farley, Mason, and Pope +remaining over. Perhaps the High School coach had talked new strength +and determination into his charges during the intermission, for the +visitors started in on the second half in whirlwind fashion. The Blue +kicked off, and High School’s quarter got the ball on his +twenty-five-yard line and scampered back to the thirty-five before he +was laid low by Farley, the Blue’s left end. From there, with fierce +slams at Hillman’s right and two short forward passes over the center of +the line, High School reached the opponent’s thirty-two. There an +off-side penalty set her back, and, after two attempts at rushing that +produced but three yards, she kicked to the five-yard line. Kendrick +fumbled the catch, but recovered and was downed on his ten. Pope punted +on second down to mid-field, and from there High School started another +slashing advance that took her to the thirty-four yards before she was +halted. + +On the side-lines, the High School supporters were shouting and +beseeching and banners were waving deliriously. A tow-haired full-back, +who had all along proved the visitor’s best ground-gainer, smashed +through the Hillman’s left for two yards; and then, on fourth down, +faking a kick, he set off on a romp around the adversary’s right. +Lightner, the second-string end, was effectually boxed, and the runner, +turning wide, was off down the field at top speed. Only Hop Kendrick +stood between him and the goal-line, and Hop waited on the fifteen +yards, wary and alert. The tow-haired boy’s feint to the right didn’t +fool him, and when the side-stepping to the left began, Hop was on him +with a clean dive and a hard tackle, and the two rolled to earth +together. But the ball was on the thirteen yards now, and it was first +down for High School, and the latter was not to be denied. A plunge off +tackle took the pigskin in front of the goal, though there was no gain. +Hillman’s piled up an attack at right guard. On third down, High School +called for kick formation, and the tow-haired terror dropped back. + +From the side of the gridiron, Hillman’s rooters chanted: “Block that +kick! Block that kick!” But there was no kick to block, for the +full-back only backed away a pace or two when the pigskin reached him, +and then tossed to the corner of the field and to the eager hands of an +uncovered right end who had but to make three strides before he was over +the line. Hop got him then; but the damage was done, and the visitors +lining the gridiron were cheering and cavorting wildly. The kick was +from a difficult angle, but the tow-haired player made it, and the score +was tied. + +The teams changed fields a minute later. Undismayed, Coach Mulford sent +in three new substitutes, one of them in place of Pope. Hillman’s got +the ball in mid-field on a fumble, and set off for the adversary’s goal; +but the new players were not able to make much headway, and Deering, who +had taken Pope’s place, punted. The effort landed the ball on High +School’s thirty-seven, and her quarter ran it back eight more before he +was stopped. Three tries at the line netted seven yards, and the visitor +punted to Hop Kendrick on his eighteen. This time Hop hugged the ball +hard and set off along the far side of the gridiron at a smart pace. +Fortunately for him, one High School end overran. The other challenged, +but missed his tackle. By that time a hasty interference had formed, +and, guarded by Mason and Lightner, Hop reached his forty before +misfortune overtook him. There a High School tackle crashed through the +interference and nailed him hard. + +But that twenty-yard sprint had brought new vim to the Blue’s novices, +and new confidence, and from their forty yards they began a fast, hard +attack that placed High School with her back to the wall almost before +she realized it. If the substitutes lacked the experience and brawn of +the first-choice players, they at least had sand and speed. And they had +a quarter-back who was earnest and grim and determined, and who, sensing +that the opponent was weary, realized that speed, and a lot of it, was +the one thing that could save the day. And so Hop proved his right to +his nickname that afternoon. Hop he did, and so did his team. Signals +were fairly shot into the air, and there was no longer any time between +plays for High School to recover her breath. Twice, with plunges at the +right of the visitor’s line and runs outside her tackles, Hillman’s made +her distance and the pigskin rested on the thirty-six yards. + +So far the Blue had attempted but three forward passes, of which only +one had succeeded. Now, from position, Hop threw straight over the +center, and somehow Lightner was there and pulled it down, although the +enemy was clustered around him thick. That seven-yard gain was made ten +when Deering was poked through the center, ten a little more, for the +ball was down on High School’s twenty-four-yard line. The game that had +been proclaimed a practice event for the purpose of seasoning the +substitutes against Saturday’s contest had developed within the last +half-hour into a battle to the death. Outside the gridiron the opposing +factions hurled defiant cheers at each other and rooted as they had not +rooted all the season. On the field the rivalry was even more intense, +and black looks and hard knocks were the order. + +High School, sparring for time, administered to a breathless right +guard, and then drew into a bunch for a whispered conference, while +Hillman’s supporters hooted derisively. Deering gained three and Boessel +two more. High School ran two substitutes on, and, after the next play, +two more. An old-fashioned criss-cross sent Mason around his own right +end for eight yards and planted the ball just short of the ten-yard +line. Mason gave place to Beedle. A slide off tackle centered the +pigskin and gained a scant yard. Deering struck center for a yard loss, +and Lightner was caught off-side. The ball went back to the seventeen +yards. + +High School was playing desperately and her line had stiffened. Beedle +gave way to Ned after that second down, and Ned had his instructions. +The ball was in front of High School’s goal, and from the seventeen +yards a field goal was an easy proposition if the opponents could be +held away from the kicker. Perhaps Hop Kendrick didn’t realize why Ned +had been sent in, or perhaps he thought better of his own judgment. +Since by the rules Ned could not communicate the instructions from the +coach until after the following play, he could only look his surprise +when Hop failed to call him back to kicking position. Farley, captain in +Stevenson’s absence, seemed to be on the point of protesting, and even +took a step toward the quarter-back; but he evidently reconsidered, for +he returned to his position at the end of the line, and the starting +signal followed. + +The play was a fake attack on the right, with Boessel carrying the ball +to the left inside of tackle, and it worked to perfection. High School, +over-anxious, stormed to the defense of her threatened right side, and +Boessel, with Ned hanging at his flank as far as the five-yard line, +where the earth suddenly rose up and smote him, romped over the line for +the last and deciding touch-down, while the Blue cohorts went fairly +wild with delight. + +On the side-line, Coach Mulford turned to Joe Stevenson. “What do you +think of Kendrick?” he asked, smiling. + +“I’d kiss him if I had him here,” answered Joe, grinning joyously. “I +call him one sweet little quarter, Coach!” + +“Well, this was his day, all right,” mused the other; “I hope he will +show up as well Saturday. Now we’ll see whether Turner can kick a goal. +He’s been doing some good work in practice, but he looks scared to death +and will probably miss it by a mile.” + +And Ned _was_ scared, too. He tried to steady his nerves by assuring +himself that, whether he made it or missed it, the Blue had won the +game, and that consequently a failure made little difference. But the +silence of his schoolmates and the “booing” of the visiting rooters +affected him badly. To Hop, holding the ball from the turf, it seemed +that Ned would never have done pointing it. And so it seemed to the +onlookers. Never was a kicker more deliberate. But at last Hop heard a +faint “Down!” and drew his fingers from beneath the oval and waited an +anxious moment. Then there was a clean, hard _thud_, and the +quarter-back, watching its flight, saw the pigskin rise lazily, end over +end, and go straight and high over the bar. + +And he might have heard Ned’s loud sigh of relief, had not the pounding +of the charging enemy and the cries of the Hillman’s horde drowned it. + +Another kick-off and four plays ended the contest, and High School, +after cheering half-heartedly, went off disgruntled and silent. + +On his way to the field-house, Ned, trotting along with Hop, encountered +Polly and Mae in the throng, and paused to speak. “Bully game, wasn’t +it?” he said. Then, seeing Mae’s High School banner, he added: “High +School put up a dandy fight, Mae.” + +“Indeed she did,” agreed Mae. “I thought once she was going to win, +too.” + +Polly was laughing. “Poor Mae didn’t know which team she wanted to win,” +she explained. “When High School gained she waved her flag, and when +Hillman’s gained she waved it just the same. She was waving it all the +time! That was a lovely goal you made, Nid.” + +“Thanks. I—well, I was so scared I didn’t know whether to kick the ball +or bite it! I’m mighty glad it went over, though.” He nodded and hurried +on in the wake of Hop, who, being a very earnest young gentleman and +completely absorbed in the business of football, considered girls far +outside his scheme of things. + +Three quarters of an hour later, Laurie arose from his recumbent +position on the window-seat of Number 16 East Hall, and delivered an +ultimatum in quiet but forceful tones. “Ned,” he said, “I saw that game +from about the middle of the first quarter to the bitter end. Nothing +escaped my eagle gaze. I can even tell you exactly how many times that +High School umpire consulted his rules book when he thought no one was +looking. I know how much dirt there was in Frank Brattle’s left ear when +they dragged him out. I know—” + +“Well, what of it? What’s your chief trouble?” growled Ned. + +“Knowing all this and more, much more, Neddie, I refuse to listen any +longer to your reminiscences. You’ve been through the game three times +since you landed up here, and there’s a limit to my endurance. And +you’ve reached that limit, Neddie—you really have. I’m going down to +George’s, where I may hear something besides touch-downs and passes and +goals. When you recover, Neddie, come on down.” + +“Oh, go to the dickens!” muttered Ned, as the door closed softly. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII—BEFORE THE BATTLE + + +“The fellow who put these posts in,” grunted Bob, as he heaved and +tugged, “must have had more time than brains!” + +It was Thursday afternoon. A hard frost, which had frozen the ground a +half-inch deep, had counseled him to finish the work of wrecking the +arbor. But three posts remained, and at one of these Bob, after having +dug around it, and pried at it with a bar until patience was exhausted, +was tugging lustily. Laurie, wiping the sweat of honest toil from his +brow, cast aside the bar and gave a hand. + +“Come on,” he said hopefully. “One, two—three! Heave!” + +“Heave!” muttered Bob. + +But although the post, which had formed a corner of the arbor, gave from +side to side, it refused to leave its nest. Panting, the boys drew off +and observed it glumly. + +“Guess we’ll have to dig some more,” said Bob. + +“Wait a minute. Let me get a purchase on it with the bar.” + +Laurie seized that implement again and drove it into the softened earth +beside the post. As the first drive didn’t send it far enough, he pulled +it out, and put all his strength into the next effort. This time he +succeeded beyond all expectations. The bar slipped through his fingers +and disappeared from sight! + +“Well!” he gasped. “What do you know—” + +“Where-where did it go to?” cried Bob, dumfounded. + +“It went—it went to China, I guess! It just slipped right through my +hands, and kept on slipping!” Laurie knelt and dug at the hole with his +fingers. + +“Find it?” asked Bob. “Try the shovel.” + +“No, I can’t feel it. Hand it here.” Laurie took the shovel and dug +frantically. Then Bob dug. The result was that they enlarged and +deepened the hole around the post, but the crowbar failed to +materialize. + +“I suppose,” said Laurie, finally, dropping the shovel and tilting back +his cap, “what happened was that I struck a sort of hole, and the bar +went right down in. Maybe it was a rat-hole, Bob.” + +“I guess so. Anyway, it’s gone, and we’ll have to get a new one.” + +“Oh, I guess we’ll find it when we get the post out. Let’s try the old +thing.” + +They did, and, after a moment of indecision, it came out most +obligingly. But there was still no crowbar to be seen. Laurie shook his +head, mystified. “That’s the funniest thing I ever saw,” he declared. + +“It surely is! Look here; maybe there’s an old well there.” + +“Then why didn’t the post go down into it?” + +“Because it’s covered over with stones. The bar happened to slip into +a—a crevice.” + +Laurie nodded dubiously. “That might be it,” he agreed. “Or perhaps +we’ve discovered a subterranean cavern!” + +“Caverns always are subterranean, aren’t they?” + +“No; sometimes they’re in the side of a hill.” + +“Then they’re caves.” + +“A cave and a cavern are the same thing, you smart Aleck.” + +“All right; but even if a cavern is in a hill, it’s underground, and +subterranean means under—” + +“Help! You win, Bob! Come on and get hold of this log and let’s get it +out of here.” And, as they staggered with it across the garden to add it +to the pile of posts and lumber already there, he continued: “There’s +one thing certain, Bob, and that’s that you won’t get me to play tennis +on your court. I’d be afraid of sinking into the ground some fine day!” + +“Maybe you’d find the crowbar then,” said Bob. “Heave!” + +Laurie “heaved,” patted the brown loam from his hands, and surveyed the +pile. “There’s a lot of good stuff there,” he pondered. “Some of it’s +sort of rotten, but there’s enough to build something.” + +“What do you want to build?” + +“I don’t know. We could build a sort of covered seat, like the one in +Polly’s yard, where folks could rest and look on. Take about six of +these posts and some of the strips, and some boards for the seat—” + +“Who’d dig the post-holes?” inquired Bob, coldly. + +“Oh, we could get a couple of the others to help. Honest, Bob, it would +be a lot of fun. Maybe we couldn’t do it before spring, though.” + +“I might leave the stuff here,” said Bob. “Thomas could sort of pile it +a little neater, you know. I love to carpenter. Sometime we’ll draw a +plan of it, Nod.” + +“Right-o! How about those other posts? No use trying to do anything with +’em to-day, is there?” + +“No; we’ll have to have another crowbar.” + +Laurie looked relieved. “Well, let’s go over and see whether the Widow’s +got any of those little cakes with the chocolate on top,” he suggested. +“Hard work always makes a fellow hungry.” + +There was a rousing football meeting in the auditorium that evening, +with speeches and music, songs and cheers; and the enthusiasm spilled +over to the yard afterward, and threatened to become unruly until Dan +Whipple mounted the steps of School Hall and spoke with all the +authority of eighteen years and the senior class presidency. Whereupon +someone suggested a cheer for the Doctor, and the joyous crowd thronged +to the west end of the building and gave nine long “Hillman’s,” with a +“Doctor Hillman” on the end. And then suddenly the lights flashed on on +the porch, and there were the Doctor and Miss Tabitha, the former +looking very much as if he had awakened very recently from a nap—which +was, in fact, the case. But he was smiling as he stepped to the doorway +and near-sightedly surveyed the throng. + +“This—er—testimonial would appear to demand some sort of a response,” +he announced, as the applause that had greeted his appearance died away. +“But I find myself singularly devoid of words, boys. Perhaps some of you +recall the story of the visitor in Sunday-school who was unexpectedly +called on by the superintendent to address the children. He hemmed and +hawed and said, finally, that it gave him much pleasure to see so many +smiling, happy faces. And he hoped they were all good little boys and +girls and knew their lessons. And then his eloquence failed him, and +after an unhappy interim he asked: ‘And now, children, what shall I +say?’ And a little girl in the front row lisped: ‘Pleathe, Mithter, thay +“Amen” and thit down!’ + +“Perhaps I’d better say ‘Amen’ and sit down, too,” he went on, when the +laughter had ceased; “but before I do I’d like to assure you that I am +‘rooting’ just as hard as any of you for a victory the day after +to-morrow. My duties will not allow me to see the team in action, as +much as I’d like to, but I am kept well informed of its progress. I have +my scouts at work constantly. Mr. Pennington reports to me on the work +of the linemen; Mr. Barrett advises me each day as to the backs; Mr. +Wells is my authority on—er—stratagem.” + +This amused his hearers intensely, since none of the three instructors +mentioned had ever been known to attend a game or watch a practice. + +“And,” continued the principal, when he could, “I follow the newspaper +reports of our enemy’s progress. Of course, I don’t believe all I read. +If I did I’d be certain that only overwhelming disaster awaited us on +Saturday. But there is one thing that troubles me. I read recently that +the Farview center is a very large youth, weighing, if I am not +mistaken, some one hundred and seventy pounds. While mere weight and +brawn are not everything, I yet tremble to consider what may happen to +the slight, atomic youth who will oppose him. Young gentlemen, I shudder +when I dwell on that unequal meeting, that impending battle of David and +Goliath!” + +When the new burst of laughter had subsided, the doctor continued more +soberly: “I wish the team all success, a notable victory. Or, if the +gods of battle will it otherwise, I wish it the manly grace to accept +defeat smilingly and undismayed. I am certain of one thing, boys, which +is that, whether fortune favors the Dark Blue or the Maroon and White, +the contest will be hard fought and clean, and bring honor alike to the +victor and vanquished. You have my heartiest good wishes. And”—the +doctor took the hand of Miss Tabitha, who had been standing a few steps +behind him—“and the heartiest good wishes of another, who, while not a +close follower of your sports, has a warm spot in her heart for each and +every one of you, and who is as firmly convinced as I am of the +invincibility of the Dark Blue!” + +“Three cheers for Tab—for Miss Hillman!” cried a voice; and, at first a +trifle ragged with laughter, the cheers rang forth heartily. Then came +another cheer for the doctor and a rousing one for “Hillman’s! +_Hillman’s!!_ HILLMAN’S!!!” And the little throng, laughing and +chattering, dispersed to the dormitories. + +Friday saw but a light practice for the first team and a final +appearance of the scrubs, who, cheered by the students, went through a +few minutes of snappy signal work, and the waving sweaters and blankets +dashed off to the field-house, their period of servitude at an end. For +the first team there was a long blackboard drill in the gymnasium after +supper, and Ned, who, somewhat to his surprise and very much to his +gratification, had been retained on the squad, returned to Number 16 at +nine o’clock in a rather bemused condition of mind. Kewpie, who +accompanied him, tried to cheer him up. + +“It’ll be all right to-morrow, Nid,” he declared. “I know how you feel. +Fact is, I wouldn’t know one signal from another if I got it this +minute, and as for those sequences—” Words failed him. “But when you +get on the field to-morrow it’ll all come back to you. It—it’s sort of +psychological. A trick of memory and all that. You understand!” + +“I don’t see why he needs to worry, anyhow,” observed Laurie, cruelly. +“He won’t get a show in to-morrow’s game.” + +Ned looked hopeful for a moment, then relapsed into dejection as Kewpie +answered: “I’d like to bet you he will, Nod. I’d like to bet you that +he’ll play a full period. You just watch Farview lay for Pope! Boy, +they’re going to make hard weather for that lad! They were after him +last year, but they couldn’t get him and he played right through. But +I’d like to bet you that to-morrow they’ll have him out of it before the +last quarter.” + +“What do you mean?” asked Laurie, in surprise. “They don’t play that +sort of a game, do they?” + +“What sort of a game?” responded Kewpie. “They play hard, that’s the way +they play! And every time they tackle Pope, they’ll tackle him so he’ll +know it. And every time he hits the line, there’ll be one of those +red-legs waiting for him. Oh, they don’t play dirty, if you mean that; +but they don’t let any chances slip, believe me!” + +“It sounds sort of off color to me, though,” Laurie objected. “How are +you going to put a fellow out of the game if you don’t slug or do +something like that?” + +Kewpie smiled knowingly. “My son,” he said, “if I start after you and +run you around the dormitory about twenty times—” + +Ned, in spite of his down-heartedness, snickered at the picture evolved, +and Kewpie grinned. + +“Well, suppose some one else did, then. Anyhow, after he’d done it about +a couple of dozen times, you’d be all in, wouldn’t you? He wouldn’t have +to kick you or knock you down or anything, would he? Well, that’s what I +mean. That’s the way they’ll go after Pope. They’ll tire him out. You +understand. And every time they tackle him, they’ll tackle him good and +hard. Well, suppose Pope does go out, and there’s a chance for a field +goal, as there’s likely to be. Who will Pinky put in? Why, Nid, of +course! Who else is there? Brattle can’t kick one goal in six. No more +can Deering. What do you think Mulford’s been nursing Nid all the season +for?” + +“Next year?” said Laurie, questioningly. + +“Sure—and this year, too. You watch and see. I’d like to bet you that +Nid’ll have a goal to kick to-morrow—yes, and that he’ll kick it, too!” + +“Don’t!” groaned Ned. “I never could do it!” + +“Well,” laughed Laurie, “I don’t bet for money, Kewpie, but I tell you +what I’ll do. If Ned kicks a goal to-morrow, I’ll take you over to the +Widow’s, and I’ll buy you all the cream-puffs you can eat at one +sitting!” + +“It’s a go!” cried Kewpie. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll do it to you!” + +“Of course,” explained Laurie, in recognition of his brother’s look of +pained inquiry, “I’m not making the offer because I think Ned can’t do +it, or because I don’t want him to play. You bet I do! It’s because I do +want him to, Kewpie. You see, I usually lose bets!” + +“All right, you crazy galoot. I’ve got to beat it. Pinky made us swear +by the Great Horn Spoon to be in bed by ten. Good night. Don’t let the +signal stuff worry you, Nid. It’ll come out all right to-morrow. You +understand. Night!” + +When the door had closed, Laurie laughed and turned to Ned. “He’s a good +old scout, isn’t he? I say, what’s the matter with you, Ned? You look +like the end of a hard winter! Cheer up! It may not be true!” + +But Ned shook his head, although he tried to smile unconcernedly. “It’ll +happen just the way he told, Laurie,” he said, sadly. “I just know it +will! They’ll get Pope out of the way, and there’ll be a field goal +wanted, just as there was Wednesday, and Mulford will send me in!” + +“Well, what of it? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” + +“I—I’m scared!” + +“Oh, piffle, Neddie! You’ve got nerves, that’s all. The night before the +battle, you know, and all that! In the morning you’ll be as right as +rain. Get your clothes off and tumble in. Want me to read a story to +you? There’s a corker in the ‘Post’ this week.” + +“No, thanks; I guess not. I’d better go to sleep.” + +But, although Ned, stifling a desire to sit up and read the corking +story himself, put the light out at ten minutes before ten, he lay awake +until after midnight and suffered as blue a case of funk as any boy ever +did. And when, at length, sleep came, it was filled with visions in +which he stood in the center of a vast arena, the object of countless +eyes, and tried over and over, and never with success, to kick a +perfectly gigantic leather ball over a cross-bar that was higher than +the Masonic Temple at home! + +The truth is that Ned was over-trained and stale. And the further truth +is that when he awoke to as sweet a November morning as ever peered down +from a cloudless sky through golden sunlight, he felt, as he phrased it +to himself, like a sock that had just come through the wringer! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX—NED IS MISSING + + +Ned ate almost no breakfast, and Laurie noted the fact, but, after a +glance at his brother’s face, said nothing. After all, he reflected, +there were probably others of the squad who were displaying no more +appetite this morning. Afterward, on the way to School Hall for their +only recitation of the day, he asked off-handedly: “How are you feeling, +Neddie?” + +Ned didn’t answer at once. When he did, he only replied laconically: +“Rotten!” + +“How do you mean, rotten?” Laurie disguised anxiety under flippancy. +“Tummy out of whack? Or is it a case of ingrowing signals?” + +“I don’t know what the trouble is,” answered Ned seriously. “I feel +perfectly punk. And I—I’m scared, Laurie. I’d give a million dollars if +I didn’t have to go to the field this afternoon. I wish to goodness I +could duck somehow. Say, feel my forehead. Isn’t it hot?” + +Laurie felt, and shook his head. “Cool as a cucumber, you old fakir. +Buck up, Neddie! You’ll feel better after a while. Did you sleep all +right?” + +“I guess so,” replied the other dispiritedly. “I dreamed a lot. Dreamed +I was kicking goals over a bar as high as a mountain. And the ball was +as big as a hogshead. And there were about a million folks watching me, +and Mr. Cornish was beating a bass-drum.” + +Laurie laughed. “Some dream, Neddie! Tell you what. After we get out of +here, we’ll take a nice, long hike. Mulford wants the players to stay +outdoors, doesn’t he? Didn’t you tell me he said you were to walk or +something?” + +Ned nodded. “I’m too tired to walk, though, Laurie. Guess I’ll get a +book and go over to the park. Or go down and jump in the river!” + +“Fine idea!” scoffed Laurie. “What have you got against the river? It +never did anything to you, did it?” + +Ned, however, refused to smile. “You don’t need to come along,” he said. +“I—I guess I’d rather be alone, Laurie.” + +“You will be, if you’re going to jump in the river, partner! The water’s +a heap too cold to appeal to me. Well, cheer up. See you when we come +out.” + +There was a holiday feeling in the air this morning that didn’t promise +well for recitations, and Mr. Brock’s chemistry class was a sore trial +to that gentleman. Yet, although he frowned often and sighed many +despairing sighs, he made allowance for the prevailing mood of +restlessness and exhibited unusual patience. And finally it was over and +the class trooped out. + +“You stay here,” said Laurie, “and I’ll run over and get a couple of +books from the room. What do you want?” + +“I don’t care—anything,” answered Ned, listlessly. + +When Laurie went off, Ned seated himself on a step and gazed forlornly +around him. Groups of boys stood on the walks in animated conversation. +Near at hand, a half-dozen juniors were discussing the game avidly, +drawing comforting conclusions from a comparison of the season’s +performances of Hillman’s and Farview. Suddenly the prospect of sitting +on a park bench with Laurie became utterly distasteful to Ned, and, with +a hurried glance in the direction of East Hall, he arose and made his +way along the drive and into Summit Street. There he turned to the left +and walked quickly to the corner. At Washington Street another look +behind showed that he had made his escape, and he heaved a sigh of +relief and went on past the library and into Cumber Street, heading +unconsciously toward the open country eastward of town. + +When Laurie returned to School Hall with a book for Ned and a magazine +for himself, he sat down and waited a few minutes, supposing that Ned +would be back. When he didn’t come, Laurie went over to School Park, +thinking that he had perhaps grown tired of waiting in the yard. But no +Ned was to be seen, and, puzzled but untroubled, Laurie dawdled into +Pine Street. The white-and-red sign above the Widow Deane’s little store +shone bravely in the sunlight. For an hour Laurie enjoyed the society of +Polly and Antoinette in the sunny garden, where, against the board +fence, a clump of hardy chrysanthemums made a cheery showing of yellow +and lavender. Antoinette had retired to winter quarters, which means +that a gunny-sack and a length of old red carpet had been draped over +her box. But just now the drapery was lifted, and Antoinette was doing +great things to a very large cabbage-leaf. Towser had established +himself in the sunshine atop the porch roof and gazed down benignly at +the pair below. + +Laurie and Polly talked, of course, about the game. He and George were +again to act as escorts to the two girls, a fact that had eaten a large +hole in Laurie’s remaining allowance. About ten o’clock he took himself +away, reminding Polly to be ready at half-past one, since it took a good +ten minutes to walk to the field, and because, wisely, he realized that +to Polly “half-past one” would mean a quarter or two. Climbing the fence +into Bob’s yard, he discovered that young man with a new crowbar about +to begin an attack on the remaining posts of the arbor. So he removed +his sweater, moistened his hands in the time-honored and only +efficacious manner, and joined the assault. After the posts were added +to the pile beside the fence, the two boys went indoors and refreshed +the inner man with piping-hot ginger cookies. Thus it was that it was +nearly noon when Laurie got back to Number 16, to find, to his +uneasiness, that Ned was not there. Nor, as far as any evidences showed, +had he been there since before breakfast. + +Laurie threw himself on the window-seat and tried to apply himself to +the magazine that he had carried all morning. But he began to be really +worried about Ned. He didn’t understand where he could be. Even if he +had gone off by himself, mooning along the roads, which was what Laurie +suspected he had done, he should have been home before this, for, as +Laurie knew, the players were to go to lunch at twelve. Presently he +dropped the magazine and strode across the corridor to Number 15. Kewpie +was not in, but Hop was there—a more than ordinarily serious-faced Hop, +who replied to Laurie’s inquiry in an absent-minded manner suggesting +that some one had placed him in a trance and gone away without awakening +him. Hop hadn’t seen Nid all morning. Kewpie had just gone over to West +Hall. He hoped there wouldn’t be any wind this afternoon. Farview had a +punter that could do fifty yards easily, and a wind would lengthen his +kicks frightfully. Did Nod think those clouds meant wind? + +Laurie withdrew without venturing an opinion in the matter. Football, he +reflected, was a far more dangerous pastime than folks generally +realized, when it could affect a fellow’s brains like that! Downstairs, +he searched the little group about the dining-hall door, and finally +made inquiry of Dave Murray. Dave was worried and excited and a bit +short-tempered. + +“Nid Turner? No, I haven’t seen him. He’ll be here pretty quick, though. +We eat at twelve.” + +He left Laurie, to push his way toward the entrance to accost Mr. +Mulford, who was coming in; and Laurie went out and sat down on the step +and watched. Kewpie came striding across from West Hall, smiling and +evidently very fit. But when Laurie questioned him the smile faded. + +“Nid? No, I haven’t set eyes on him. Isn’t he here? Are you sure? Say, +you don’t suppose the silly guy has bolted? He was in mean shape last +night, Nod. But he wouldn’t do that! He’s no quitter. He’ll be here in a +minute or two.” + +“Suppose—suppose he isn’t?” asked Laurie, anxiously. “Would it matter +much?” + +“Matter?” Kewpie shrugged, one eye on the dining-hall door, through +which his team-mates were beginning to pass. “It wouldn’t matter to the +game, I guess. I was only trying to cheer him up last night. You +understand. It isn’t likely Pinky will use him. But it would be a bad +thing for him, Nod. It would be an awful black eye, in fact, if he cut +the game. Guess Pinky would just about can him for all time! I say, I’ve +got to hustle in there. Why don’t you have a look around for him? Maybe +he’s in the library, or over in West, or—or somewhere. See you later, +Nod!” + +Kewpie disappeared into the dining-hall, and a moment later the door was +closed. Laurie acted on Kewpie’s suggestion, and made a thorough search +of School Hall and the other dormitory, and even poked his head into the +gymnasium, where only an empty floor met his gaze. After that there +seemed nothing to do but wait. Ned had already missed his lunch, for the +fellows were coming out into the corridor when Laurie returned to East +Hall. Murray nailed him as he tried to pass unnoticed to the stairs. + +“Say, Nod, where’s that brother of yours?” he demanded indignantly. +“Didn’t he know that lunch was at twelve? Where is he, anyway?” + +“I don’t know, Dave,” Laurie answered, miserably. “He went for a walk +this morning, and I haven’t seen him since. I guess he went too far and +couldn’t get back in time. I’ve been looking all over for him.” + +“That’s fine!” said the manager, bitterly. “Mulford asked for him, and I +said I’d look him up. You’d better find him mighty quick, Nod. Tell him +to get something to eat somewhere and be at the gym not later than one. +There’s a floor drill then. I’ll make it all right with Mulford, +somehow. But there’ll be the dickens and all to pay if he doesn’t show +up!” + +Hoping against hope, Laurie hurried up to the room. But there was no +Ned. One o’clock came and passed. Time and again Laurie went to the gate +and looked up and down the street, but without result. Ned had +disappeared utterly, it seemed, and the unwelcome conclusion grew in +Laurie’s mind that Ned had shown the white feather and had deliberately +absented himself. Laurie didn’t like to think that, and there were +moments when he couldn’t. But here it was nearly half-past one, and Ned +hadn’t come, and facts are facts! It looked, he thought sadly, like a +bad day for the honor of the Turners! + +At half-past one he found George Watson in his room, and handed over one +of his tickets. “I can’t go to the field with you,” he said, “but I’ll +find you over there. Try to keep a seat for me, will you?” + +“What’s the big idea?” asked George, blankly. “Why can’t you go with us? +That’s a fine game to play!” + +“I’ll tell you later. I—I’ve got something to do. Be a good fellow, +George, won’t you? And tell Polly how it is, will you?” + +“How the dickens can I tell Polly how it is when I don’t know how it is +myself?” asked George, indignantly. “Oh, all right! But you want to get +there pretty quick, Nod. It’s hard to hold seats when there aren’t +enough of them in the first place. There’s a regular mob going out there +already!” + +Disconsolately Laurie hurried out and stationed himself at the dormitory +entrance. Presently the players emerged from the gymnasium in their togs +and passed through the little gate to Washington Street. Laurie watched +them file past, hoping hard that Ned would be among them. But, although +all the rest were there, twenty-one in all, there was no Ned. + +From Washington Street and Summit Street came a steady tramping of feet, +accompanied by a swishing sound as the pedestrians brushed through the +fallen leaves. Occasionally an automobile went by with a warning honk of +its horn at the corner. Looking over the withered hedge, Laurie could +see the colors of Hillman’s and Farview marching past, banners of dark +blue bearing the white Old English H, maroon-and-white flags adorned +with the letters “F. A.” Laughter and the merry, excited chatter of many +voices came to him. The yard was empty, except for a boy hurrying down +the steps of West Hall, and he too quickly disappeared through the gate. + +Presently Laurie looked at his watch. The time was eighteen minutes to +two. He left East Hall and turned toward the gymnasium. Out of the +shelter of the dormitory a little breeze fanned his face, and he +remembered Hop Kendrick’s dread of a wind that would put more power into +the toe of the Farview punter. It might be, he reflected, that Hop was +due for disappointment; but the matter didn’t seem very important to +him. The locker-room in the gymnasium was empty. Over the benches lay +the discarded underclothing of the players, and sometimes the outer +clothing as well, suggesting that excitement on this occasion had +prevailed over orderliness. Laurie made his way to Ned’s locker. It was +closed, and behind the unfastened door hung his togs. + + + + +CHAPTER XX—FOR THE HONOR OF THE TURNERS + + +Walking felt good to Ned that morning. The air, brisk in spite of the +sunshine and the day’s stillness, cleared his head of the queer +cloudiness that had been there since awakening, and, turning into the +country road that led eastward toward the higher hills, he strode along +briskly. He had, he reflected, played rather a low-down trick on Laurie; +but that could be explained later, and Laurie wouldn’t mind when he +understood. When he had gone the better part of a mile into the country, +and the road had begun to steepen perceptibly, the sound of a motor +behind warned him to one side. But, instead of passing in a cloud of +dust, the automobile slowed down as it reached the pedestrian, and the +driver, a genial-looking man of middle age, hailed. + +“Going my way?” he asked. “Get in if you like.” + +Ned hesitated, and then climbed in beside the solitary occupant of the +car. The prospect of speeding through the sunlit morning world appealed +to him, and he thanked the driver and snuggled into the other corner of +the front seat. + +“That’s all right, my boy,” answered the man, genially. “Glad to have +company. How far are you going?” + +“Just—just up the road a ways,” replied Ned, vaguely. “I was out for a +walk, only this seemed better.” + +“Well, it’s quicker, though it doesn’t give you quite so much exercise,” +was the response. “You sing out when you’ve had enough. Maybe you can +get a lift going back, if you’re not in too much of a hurry. Still, +there isn’t much travel on this road. Most folks go around by Little +Windsor. It’s longer, but the road’s a sight better. I go this way +because I can do it quicker. There are some fierce bumps, though. Yell +if you drop out!” + +The car was a heavy one with good springs, and as long as Ned remained +in it the bad bumps didn’t materialize. His companion evidently liked to +talk, and Ned learned a good deal about him and his business, without, +however, finding it very interesting. The man asked few questions, and +so Ned merely supplied the information that he was from Hillman’s School +and that he liked to walk and that he had all the morning to get back +in. The car kept up an even, effortless speed of twenty-seven or -eight +miles an hour, and it was finding himself booming up the straight grade +over Candle Mountain that brought Ned to a sudden realization that if he +meant to get back to school by twelve o’clock without undue effort he +had best part company with his chatty acquaintance. So, at the summit of +the hill, he said good-by, repeated his thanks, and got out. + +“Guess you’re about six miles from Orstead,” said the man. “It won’t +take you long to get back there, though, if you find a lift. Don’t +hesitate to stop any one you see; they’ll be glad to take you in. +Good-by!” + +The gray automobile went on and was speedily dropping from sight beyond +the nearly leafless forest. Ned watched it disappear, and then set his +face toward home. The ride had certainly done him good, he told himself. +The prospect of being called on to kick a dozen goals wouldn’t have +dismayed him a mite at that moment. In fact, he suddenly realized that +he was going to be horribly disappointed if the chance to attempt at +least one goal from the field did not come to him, and he wondered why +he had felt so craven last night. + +After a mile or so a small, dust-covered car overhauled him and went by +without a challenge from him. It was still only ten o’clock, and he had +two hours yet, and he had no intention of begging a ride. Taken +leisurely, the remaining miles would be covered without weariness and in +plenty of time. When he had accomplished, as he reckoned, about half the +distance to Orstead, his watch said seventeen minutes to eleven. The +forenoon had grown appreciably warmer, and so had Ned. Beside the road +was a little knoll carpeted with ashy-brown beech-leaves. Only a stone +wall, bordered with blackberry briars, intervened. + +Ned climbed across the wall and seated himself on the slope of the +knoll. The land descended gently before him toward the river and the +town, but neither was in sight. Presently, removing his cap, he +stretched himself on his back and linked his fingers under his head. And +presently, because the blue, sunlit, almost cloudless sky was too +dazzling to gaze at long, he closed his eyes. And as he did so a +strange, delicious languor descended upon him. He sighed luxuriously and +stretched his legs into a more comfortable position. It was odd that he +should feel sleepy at this time of day, he thought, and it wouldn’t do +to stay here too long. He wished, though, that he didn’t have to get +anywhere at any especial time. It would be great to just lie here like +this and feel the sun on his face and— + +At about that moment he stopped thinking at all and went sound asleep. + +When he awoke he was in shadow, for the sun had traveled around and past +the elbow of a near-by old and knotted oak whose brown-pink leaves still +clung to the twisted branches. Ned looked around him in puzzlement, and +it was a long moment before he could account for his surroundings. When +he had, he sat up very quickly and gave a startled look at his watch. +The thing was crazy! It said twenty-one minutes past two! Of course it +couldn’t be that late, he told himself indignantly. But even as he said +it he was oppressed by a conviction that it was. And a look at the sun +removed any lingering doubt! + +He sprang to his feet, seized his cap, and stumbled across the wall, +and, again on the road, set out at a run toward home. But after a moment +he slowed up. “Was there any use in hurrying now? The game was already +in progress—had been going on for twenty minutes. The first quarter was +probably nearly over. What would they say to him, the fellows and Coach +Mulford and—Laurie? Somehow, what Laurie would think appeared far more +important than what any of the others might. He would have such a poor +excuse, he reflected ruefully! Went for a walk, and fell asleep by the +road! Gee, he couldn’t tell them that! He might tell Laurie; but the +others—” + +He was jogging on as he thought things over. Even if he ran all the way, +and he couldn’t do that, of course, he wouldn’t get to school before +three. And then he would have to change into his togs and reach the +field. And by that time the second half would have started. Wouldn’t it +be far better to remain away altogether? He might easily reach his room +unseen, and then, when Laurie returned, he could pretend illness. He +might not fool Laurie; but the others, Coach Mulford and Dave Murray and +the fellows, would have to believe him. + +If a fellow was ill, he couldn’t be expected to play football. He even +got as far as wondering what particular and peculiar malady he could +assume, when he put the idea aside. + +“No use lying about it,” he muttered. “Got to face the music, Ned! It +was your own fault. Maybe Mulford will let me down easy. I wouldn’t like +to queer myself for next year. Gee, though, what’ll the school think?” +And Ned groaned aloud. + +While he had slept, five vehicles had passed him, and as many persons +had seen him lying there asleep in the sun and idly conjectured about +him. But now, when he needed help to conquer the interminable three +miles that stretched between him and the town, and although he +constantly turned his head to gaze hopefully back along the dusty road, +not a conveyance appeared. Before long, since he had unwisely started at +too great a speed, he was forced to sit down on a rock and rest. He was +very nearly out of breath and the perspiration was trickling down +beneath his cloth cap. A light breeze had sprung up since he had dropped +asleep, and it felt very grateful as it caressed his damp hair and +flushed face. + +Perhaps those three miles were nearer four, because when, tired, dusty, +and heart-sick, he descried the tower of the Congregational church above +the leafless elms and maples of the village, the gilded hands pointed to +twelve minutes past three. Even had he arrived in time, he reflected +miserably, he would never have been able to serve his team-mates and his +school, for he was scarcely able to drag one foot behind the other as he +finally turned into the yard. + +The place appeared deserted, grounds and buildings alike, as Ned +unhesitatingly made his way across to the gymnasium. He had long since +decided on his course of action. No matter whether he had failed his +coach and his schoolmates, his duty was still plain. As late as it was, +he would get into his togs and report at the field. But when, in the +empty locker-room, he paused before where his football togs should have +been, he found only empty hooks. The locker, save for towels, was empty! + +At first he accepted the fact as conclusive evidence of his +disgrace—thought that coach or manager or an infuriated student body +had removed his clothes as a signal of degradation! Then the +unlikelihood of the conclusion came, and he wondered whether they had +really been there. But of course they had! He remembered perfectly +hanging them up, as usual, yesterday afternoon. Perhaps some one had +borrowed them, then. The locker had been unfastened, probably, for half +the time he forgot to turn the key in it. Wondering, he made his way out +of the building, undecided now what to do. But as he reached the corner +a burst of cheers floated to him from the play-field. His head came up. +It was still his duty to report, togs or no togs! Resolutely he set out +on Summit Street, the sounds of battle momentarily growing nearer as he +limped along. + +By the entrances many automobiles and some carriages lined the road. +Above the stand the backs of the spectators in the top row of seats +looked strangely agitated, and blue flags waved and snapped. A fainter +cheer came to him, the slogan of Farview, from the farther side of the +field. He heard the piping of signals, and a dull thud of leather +against leather, then cries and a whistle shrilling; and then a great +and triumphant burst of cheering from the Blue side. + +He hurried his steps, leaped the low fence beside the road, and came to +a group of spectators standing at the nearer end of the long, low grand +stand. He could see the gridiron now, and the battling teams in +mid-field. And the scoreboard at the farther end! And, seeing that, his +heart sank. “Hillman’s 7—Visitors 9” was the story! He tugged the +sleeve of a man beside him, a youngish man in a chauffeur’s livery. + +“What period is it?” he asked. + +“Fourth,” was the answer. The man turned a good-natured look on the +boy’s anxious face. + +“Been going about four minutes. You just get here?” + +Ned nodded. “How did they get their nine?” he asked. + +“Farview? Worked a forward pass in the second quarter for about thirty +yards, and smashed over for a touch-down. They failed at goal, though. +That made ’em six, and they got three more in the last quarter. +Hillman’s fumbled about on their thirty, and that bandy-legged full-back +of Farview’s kicked a corking goal from field. Gee—say, it was some +kick!” + +“Placement or drop?” + +“Drop. Almost forty yards, I guess. There they go again!” The chauffeur +tiptoed to see over a neighbor’s head. Ned, past his shoulder, had an +uncertain glimpse of the Maroon and White breaking through the Blue’s +left side. When the down was signaled, he spoke again. + +“How did Hillman’s score?” he asked. + +“Huh? Oh, she got started right off at the beginning of the game and +just ate those red-legs up. Rushed the ball from the middle of the +field, five and six yards at a whack, and landed it on the other +fellow’s door-sill. Farview sort of pulled together then and made a +fight; but that big chap, Pope, the full-back, smashed through finally, +right square between the posts. After that he kicked the goal. Guess the +red-legs had stage-fright then, but they got over it, and our fellows +haven’t had a chance to score since. Pope had to lay off last quarter. +They played him to a standstill. Mason’s mighty good, but he can’t make +the gains Pope did. First down again! Say, they aren’t doing a thing but +eating us up!” + +Ned wormed himself to the front of the group, and came to anchor at the +side of a tall policeman, close to the rope that stretched from the end +of the stand well past the zone line. By craning his neck he could look +down the length of the field. White-sweatered, armed with big blue +megaphones, Brewster and Whipple and two others, cheer leaders, were +working mightily, although the resulting cheers sounded weak where Ned +stood. The teams were coming down the field slowly but surely, the Blue +contesting every yard, but yielding after every play. The lines faced +each other close to the thirty now. Across the gridiron, Farview’s pæans +were joyful and confident, and the maroon-and-white flags gyrated in +air. Well back toward his threatened goal, Hop Kendrick, white-faced and +anxious, called hoarse encouragement. Ned clenched his hands and hoped +and feared. + +A line attack turned into an unexpected forward pass, and a tall Farview +end came streaking down just inside the boundary. Hop was after him like +a shot; but Deering, who had taken Pope’s place, ran him out at the +fifteen-yard line. The Maroon and White went wild with joy. The teams +trooped in on the heels of the diminutive referee, and the ball was down +just inside Hillman’s fifteen. Ned looked the Blue team over. Save for +Corson and White, the line was made up of first-string men, but the back +field was, with the single exception of Mason, all substitutes: +Kendrick, Boessel, and Deering. + +A plunge straight at the center gave Farview two more precious yards, +Kewpie, apparently pretty well played out, yielding before the desperate +attack. Three more yards were gained between Emerson and Stevenson on +the left. Third down now, and five to go! Evidently Farview was +determined on a touch-down, for on the nine yards, with an excellent +chance for a field goal, she elected to rush again. But this time the +Blue’s center held, and the Farview left half, when friend and foe was +pulled from above him, held the pigskin scarcely a foot in advance of +its former position. It was Hillman’s turn to cheer, and cheer she did. +Ned added a wild shout of triumph to the din about him. + +Fourth down, and still five yards to gain! Now Farview must either kick +or try a forward, and realizing this the Blue’s secondary defense +dropped back and out. A Farview substitute came speeding on, a new left +tackle. Then, amid a sudden hush, the quarter sang his signals: “Kick +formation! 73—61—29—” The big full-back stretched his arms out. +“12—17—9!” Back sped the ball, straight and breast-high. The Blue line +plunged gallantly. The stand became a pandemonium. The full-back swung a +long right leg, but the ball didn’t drop from his hands. Two steps to +the left, and he was poising it for a forward pass! Then he threw, well +over the up-stretched hands of a Hillman’s player who had broken +through, and to the left. A Maroon and White end awaited the ball, for +the instant all alone on the Blue’s goal-line. Ned, seeing, groaned +dismally. Then from somewhere a pair of blue-clad arms flashed into +sight, a slim body leaped high, and from the Hillman’s side of the field +came a veritable thunder of relief and exultation. For the blue arms had +the ball, and the blue player was dodging and worming toward the farther +side-line! Captain Stevenson it was who cleared the path for him at the +last moment, bowling over a Farview player whose arms were already +stretched to grapple, and, in a shorter time than the telling takes, Hop +Kendrick was racing toward the distant goal! + +Afterward Ned realized that during the ensuing ten or twelve seconds he +had tried desperately to shin up the tall policeman; but at the time he +had not known it, nor, or so it appeared, had the policeman, for the +latter was shouting his lungs out! Past the middle of the field sped +Hop, running as fleetly as a hare, and behind him pounded a solitary +Farview end. These two left the rest of the field farther and farther +back at every stride. For a moment it seemed that Hop would win that +desperate race; but at last, near the thirty-five yards, he faltered, +and the gap between him and his pursuer closed to a matter of three or +four strides, and after that it was only a question of how close to the +goal the Blue runner would get before he was overtaken and dragged down. +The end came between the fifteen- and twenty-yard streaks. Then, no more +than a stride behind, the Farview player sprang. His arms wrapped +themselves around Hop’s knees, and the runner crashed to earth. + +For a long minute the babel of shouting continued, for that eighty-yard +sprint had changed the complexion of the game in a handful of seconds. +Hillman’s was no longer the besieged, fighting in her last trench to +stave off defeat, but stood now on the threshold of victory, herself the +besieger! + +Farview called for time. Two substitutes came in to strengthen her line. +Hop, evidently no worse for his effort, was on his feet again, thumping +his players on the backs, imploring, entreating, and confident. On the +seventeen yards lay the brown oval, almost in front of the right-hand +goal-post. A field goal would put the home team one point to the good, +and, with only a few minutes left to play, win the game almost beyond a +doubt, and none on the Blue’s side of the field doubted that a try at +goal would follow. Even when the first play came from ordinary formation +and Deering smashed into the left of Farview’s line for a scant yard, +the audience was not fooled. Of course, it was wise to gain what ground +they might with three downs to waste, for there was always the chance +that a runner might get free and that luck would bring a touch-down +instead. + +Yet again Hop signaled a line attack. This time it was Mason who carried +the ball, and he squirmed through for two yards outside left tackle, +edging the pigskin nearer the center of the goal. Then came a shout that +started near the Blue team’s bench and traveled right along the stand. A +slight youngster was pulling off his sweater in front of the bench, a +boy with red-brown hair and a pale, set face. Then he had covered the +red-brown hair with a leather helmet and was trotting into the field +with upraised hand. + +Ned stared and stared. Then he closed his eyes for an instant, opened +them, and stared again. After that he pinched himself hard to make +certain that he was awake and not still dreaming on the knoll beside the +road. The substitute was speaking to the referee now, and Deering was +walking away from the group in the direction of the bench. The cheering +began, the leaders waving their arms in unison along the length of the +Hillman’s stand: + +“’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! Deering!” + +And then again, a second later: “’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! ’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! +’Rah, ’rah, ’rah! Turner!” + +Ned turned imploringly to the tall policeman. “What—who was that last +fellow they cheered?” he faltered. + +The policeman looked down impatiently. + +“Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXI—THE UNDERSTUDY + + +“_Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!_” chanted Farview +imploringly, from across the trampled field. + +Yet above the hoarse entreaty came Hop Kendrick’s confident voice: “All +right, Hillman’s! Make it go! Here’s where we win it! Kick formation! +Turner back!” And then: “25—78—26—194! 12—31—9—” + +But it was Hop himself who dashed straight forward and squirmed ahead +over one white line before the whistle blew. + +“Fourth down!” called the referee. “About four and a half!” + +“Come on!” cried Hop. “Make it go this time! Hard, fellows, hard! We’ve +got ’em going!” He threw an arm over the shoulder of the new substitute. +Those near by saw the latter shake his head, saw Hop draw back and stare +as if aghast at the insubordination. Farview protested to the referee +against the delay, and the latter called warningly. Hop nodded, and +raised his voice again: + +“Kick formation! Turner back!” + +Then he walked back to where the substitute stood and dropped to his +knees. + +“Place-kick!” grunted a man at Ned’s elbow. “Can’t miss it from there if +the line holds!” + +Ned, in a perfect agony of suspense, waited. Hop was calling his +signals. There was a pause. Then: “16—32—7—” + +Back came the ball on a long pass from Kewpie. It was high, but Hop got +it, pulled it down, and pointed it. Ned saw the kicker step forward. +Then he closed his eyes. + +There was a wild outburst from all around him, and he opened them again. +The ball was not in sight, but a frantic little man in a gray sweater +was waving his arms like a semaphore behind the farther goal. Along the +space between stand and side-line a quartette of youths leaped crazily, +flourishing great blue megaphones or throwing them in air. Above the +stand blue banners waved and caps tossed about. On the scoreboard at the +far end of the field the legend read: “Hillman’s 10—Visitors 9.” + +A moment later, a boy with a wide grin on his tired face and nerves that +were still jangling made his way along Summit Street in the direction of +school. Behind him the cheers and shouts still broke forth at intervals, +for there yet remained some three minutes of playing time. Once, in the +sudden stillness between cheers, he heard plainly the hollow thump of a +punted ball. More shouts then, indeterminate, dying away suddenly. The +boy walked quickly, for he had a reason for wanting to gain the security +of his room before the crowd flowed back from the field. At last, at the +school gate, he paused and looked back and listened. From the distant +scene of battle came a faint surge of sound that rose and fell and rose +again and went on unceasingly as long as he could hear. + +Back in Number 16, Ned threw his cap aside and dropped into the nearest +chair. There was much that he understood, yet much more that was still a +mystery to him. One thing, however, he dared hope, and that was that the +disgrace of having failed his fellows had passed him miraculously by! As +to the rest, he pondered and speculated vainly. He felt horribly limp +and weary while he waited for Laurie to come. And after a while he heard +cheering, and arose and went to a window. There could no longer be any +doubt as to the final outcome of the game. Between the sidewalk throngs, +dancing from side to side of the street with linked arms, came +Hillman’s, triumphant! + +[Illustration: “Turner. Guess he’s going to kick a goal for ’em.”] + +And here and there, borne on the shoulders of joyous comrades, bobbed a +captured player. There were more than a dozen of them, some taking the +proceeding philosophically, others squirming and fighting for freedom. +Now and then one succeeded in getting free, but recapture was invariably +his fate. At least, this was true with a single exception while Ned +watched. The exception was a boy with red-brown hair, who, having +managed to slip from his enthusiastic friends, dashed through the throng +on the sidewalk, leaped a fence, cut across a corner, and presently sped +through the gate on Washington Street, pursuit defeated. A minute later, +flushed and breathless, he flung open the door of Number 16. + +At sight of Ned, Laurie’s expression of joyous satisfaction faded. He +halted inside the door and closed it slowly behind him. At last, +“Hello,” he said, listlessly. + +“Hello,” answered Ned. Then there was a long silence. Outside, in front +of the gymnasium, they were cheering the victorious team, player by +player. At last, “We won, didn’t we?” asked Ned. + +Laurie nodded as if the thing were a matter of total indifference. He +still wore football togs, and he frowningly viewed a great hole in one +blue stocking as he seated himself on his bed. + +“Well,” he said, finally, “what happened to you?” + +Ned told him, at first haltingly, and then with more assurance as he saw +the look of relief creep into Laurie’s face. As he ended his story, +Laurie’s countenance expressed only a great and joyous amusement. + +“Neddie,” he chuckled, “you’ll be the death of me yet! You came pretty +near to it to-day, too, partner!” He sobered as his thoughts went back +to a moment some fifteen minutes before, and he shook his head. +“Partner, this thing of understudying a football hero is mighty wearing. +I’m through for all time. After this, Ned, you’ll have to provide your +own substitute! I’m done!” + +“How—why—how did you happen to think of it?” asked Ned, rather humbly. +“Weren’t you—scared?” + +“Scared? Have a heart! I was frightened to death every minute I sat on +the bench. And then, when Mulford yelped at me, I—well, I simply passed +away altogether! I’m at least ten years older than I was this morning, +Neddie, and I’ll bet I’ve got gray hairs all over my poor old head. You +see, Murray as much as said that it was all day with you if you didn’t +show up. Kewpie was a bit down-hearted about it, too. I waited around +until half-past one or after, thinking every moment that you’d turn +up—hoping you would, anyhow; although, to be right honest, Neddie, I +had a sort of hunch, after the way you acted and talked, that maybe +you’d gone off on purpose. Anyhow, about one o’clock I got to thinking, +and the more I thought the more I got into the notion that something had +to be done if the honor of the Turners was to be—be upheld. And the +only thing I could think of was putting on your togs and bluffing it +through. Kewpie owned up that he’d been talking rot last night—that he +didn’t really think you’d be called on to-day. And I decided to take a +chance. Of course, if I’d known what was going to happen I guess I +wouldn’t have had the courage; but I didn’t know. I thought all I’d have +to do was sit on the bench and watch. + +“So I went over to the gym and got your togs on, and streaked out to the +field, I guess I looked as much like you as you do, for none of the +fellows knew that I wasn’t you. I was careful not to talk much. Mr. +Mulford gave me thunder, and so did Murray, and Joe Stevenson looked +pretty black. I just said I was sorry, and there wasn’t much time to +explain, anyway, because the game was starting about the time I got +there. Once, in the third period, when Slavin was hurt, Mulford looked +along the bench and stopped when he got to me, and I thought my time had +come. But I guess he wanted to punish me for being late. Anyway, Boessel +got the job. When the blow did fall, Neddie, I was sick clean through. +My tummy sort of folded up and my spine was about as stiff as—as a +drink of water! I wanted to run, or crawl under the bench or something. +‘You’ve pleased yourself so far to-day, Turner,’ said Mulford. ‘Now +suppose you do something for the school. Kendrick will call for a kick. +You see that it gets over, or I’ll have something to say to you later. +Remember this, though: not a word to any one but the referee until after +the next play. Now get out there and _win this game!_’ + +“Nice thing to say to a chap who’d never kicked a football in his life +except around the street! But, gee, Neddie, what could I do? I’d started +the thing, and I had to see it through. Of course I thought that maybe +I’d ought to fess up that I wasn’t me—or, rather, you—and let some one +else kick. But I knew there wasn’t any one else they could depend on, +and I decided that if some one had to miss the goal, it might as well be +me—or you. Besides, there was the honor of the Turners! So I sneaked +out, with my heart in my boots,—your boots, I mean,—and Hop called for +a line play, and then another one, and I thought maybe I was going to +get off without making a fool of myself. But no such luck. ‘Take all the +time you want, Nid,’ said Hop. ‘We’ll hold ’em for you. Drop it over, +for the love of mud! We’ve got to have this game!’ ‘Drop it?’ said I. +‘Not on your life, Hop! Make it a place-kick or I’ll never have a +chance!’ ‘What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘I mean I can’t drop-kick +to-day.’ I guess something in my voice or the way I said it put him on, +for he looked at me pretty sharp. Still, maybe he didn’t guess the +truth, either, for he let me have my way and let me kick. + +“After that”—Laurie half closed his eyes and shook his head +slowly—“after that I don’t really know what did happen. I have a sort +of a hazy recollection of Hop shouting some signals that didn’t mean a +thing in my young life, and kneeling on the ground a couple of yards +ahead of me. I didn’t dare look at the goal, though I knew it was ahead +of me and about twenty yards away. Then there was a brown streak, and +things began to move, and I moved with them. I suppose I swung my +foot,-probably my right one, though it may have been my left,—and then +I closed my eyes tight and waited for some one to kill me. Next thing I +knew, I was being killed—or I thought I thought I was, for a second. It +turned out, though, that the fellows weren’t really killing me; they +were just beating me black and blue to show they were pleased. + +“Of course, it was all the biggest piece of luck that ever happened, +Ned. Hop aimed the ball just right, and somehow or other I managed to +kick it. Maybe any one would have done just as well, because I guess it +was an easy goal. Anyway, the honor of the Turners was safe!” + +“You’re a regular brick,” said Ned, a bit huskily. “What—what happened +afterward? I didn’t stay.” + +“Afterward Hop looked at me kind of queer and said, ‘I guess that’ll do +for you, Turner,’ and I beat it away from there as fast as I knew how, +and Mulford sent in some other poor unfortunate. There were only half a +dozen plays after that, and we kicked whenever we got the ball.” + +“Do you think any one but Hop found out?” asked Ned, anxiously. + +“Not a one. And I’m not sure, mind you, that Hop did. You see, he didn’t +_say_ anything. Only, he did call me ‘Nid’ at first, and then ‘Turner’ +the next time. I haven’t seen him since. I guess I never will know, +unless I ask him. One thing’s sure, though, Ned, and that is that Hop +won’t talk.” + +“You don’t think I’d ought to fess up?” asked Ned. + +“I do not,” replied Laurie stoutly. “What’s the good? It wasn’t your +fault if you went to sleep out in the country. If any one’s to blame, +it’s me. I oughtn’t to have hoaxed them. No, sir; if Mulford or any one +says anything, just you tell them you fell asleep and couldn’t help +getting there late. But I don’t believe any one will ask questions now. +They’re all too pleased and excited. But, gee, Neddie! I certainly am +glad I made that goal instead of missing it. I’d be a pretty mean +feeling pup to-night if I hadn’t!” + +“It was wonderful,” mused Ned. “You putting it over, I mean. With all +that crowd looking on, and Farview shouting—” + +“Shouting? I didn’t hear them. I didn’t know whether there was any one +around just then! I had troubles of my own, partner! Know something? +Well, I think there’s the chap who kicked that goal.” Laurie raised his +right foot and displayed one of Ned’s scuffed football shoes. “I guess I +just sort of left things to him and he did the business. Good old Mister +Shoe!” + +Ned jumped to his feet and pulled Laurie from the bed. “For the love of +lemons,” he cried, “get those togs off before any one comes in!” + +“Gee, that’s so!” Laurie worked feverishly, while Ned stumbled over a +chair and turned the key in the lock. + +“A fine pair of idiots we are!” exclaimed Ned, as he ripped Laurie’s +shirt off for him. “Suppose Hop or Kewpie had come in while we were +sitting here!” + +Hillman’s spent the rest of the evening in celebration. In the +dining-hall the appearance of any member of the squad was the signal for +hand-clapping and cheers, and when Ned entered, followed by Laurie, the +applause was deafening. Ned showed himself to be a very modest and +retiring hero, for he fairly scuttled to his seat, and kept his head +bent over his plate long after the applause had died away. Then, +stealing an unhappy glance at Laurie, he found that youth grinning +broadly, and was the recipient of a most meaningful wink. After supper, +in the corridor, the twins ran squarely into Hop Kendrick. Ned tried to +pull aside, but Laurie stood his ground. Hop was plainly a very happy +youth to-night, although even when happiest he never entirely lost his +look of earnest gravity. + +“Well, we did it, Nid!” he said joyfully, clapping that youth on the +shoulder. “That was a corking kick of yours, son!” + +Ned stammered something utterly unintelligible, but Laurie came to the +rescue: “Ned says it was the way you pointed the ball that won that +goal, Hop,” he said casually. “He’s mighty modest about it.” + +Hop shot a quick glance at the speaker, and Ned declared afterward that +there was a smile behind it. But all he said was: “Oh, well, pointing +isn’t everything, Nod. _Some one’s_ got to kick it!” + +When he had gone on, Ned and Laurie viewed each other questioningly. +“Think he knows?” asked Ned. Laurie shook his head frowningly. “You’ve +got me, partner!” he answered. + +And, because neither asked Hop Kendrick outright, neither ever did know! + +There were songs and speeches and a general jollification after supper, +ending in a parade of cheering, singing youths who marched through the +town from end to end, and at last drew up outside Doctor Hillman’s porch +and shouted until that gentleman appeared and responded. The Doctor’s +words were few, but they hit the spot, and when there had been another +long cheer for him, and another long cheer for the team, and a final +mighty cheer for the school, the happy boys called it a day and sought +the dormitories. + +Ned was just dropping off to sleep that night when Laurie’s voice +reached him through the darkness. + +“Ned!” called Laurie. + +“Huh?” + +“Are you awake?” + +“Uh-huh.” + +“Listen. It’s a fortunate thing to be a twin.” + +There was a long moment of silence. Then Ned’s voice came sleepily: + +“’Cause if one twin can’t the other twin kin!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXII—THE BOYS MAKE A PRESENT + + +The week or so succeeding the Farview game seemed like an anticlimax. +The bottom had sort of dropped out of things and there was no immediate +excitement to look forward to. The weather became as miserable as +weather possibly could, the slight snowfall that followed the rain of +Thanksgiving Day lasting only long enough to be seen by the early +risers. Perhaps it was well that lack of events and inclement weather +ruled, for Ned and a good many other boys in school were no worse for an +opportunity to apply themselves undisturbedly to their studies. +Basketball candidates were called the first Monday in December, and the +twins held a serious conference on the question of reporting. Ned, who +felt rather flat since there was no more football, was half inclined to +go in for the game, and would have had Laurie insisted. But Laurie voted +that for the present the Turners had done sufficient in the athletic +line, that the honor of the family demanded no further sacrifices on the +altar of duty. So Ned abandoned the idea and talked of trying for the +crew in the spring. + +When December was a week old, the fellows set their gaze on the +Christmas recess, which this year began on Wednesday, three days before +Christmas, and lasted until the 2d of January. Eleven days are not +sufficient to make a trip across the continent and back advisable, +although the twins figured that, with the best of fortune, they would be +able to reach Santa Lucia in time for dinner Christmas night. On the +other hand, the missing of one connection would delay their arrival +until the following afternoon, and, as Laurie pointed out, they were +fairly certain to be held up somewhere on the way, and a sleeping-car +wasn’t exactly an ideal place in which to spend the holiday! Besides, +there was a noticeable lack of encouragement from home. It had been +accepted beforehand that the boys were to remain at the school during +the recess, and nothing in Mr. Turner’s fortnightly letters hinted that +he had changed his mind. + +“I’d just as lief stay here, anyway,” declared Ned. “We can have a lot +more fun. Maybe there’ll be a bunch of snow, and I’m dying to try +skiing.” + +“You bet! And skating, too! And then there’s that other scheme. Mustn’t +forget that, Neddie.” + +“You mean—” + +“Yes. Didn’t you say we’d do it during vacation?” + +“Sure! It—it’ll take quite a lot of money, though, Laurie. And we’ll +have presents to buy for Dad and Aunt Emmie and the cousins—” + +“The cousins get Christmas cards, and that’s all they do get,” +interrupted Laurie, decisively. “That’s all they ever give us, and I’d +rather spend my money on something that’ll really—really benefit some +one. I guess Dad’ll send us some more money, too, for Christmas. We can +do it, all right. I’ve got nearly seven dollars right now. I haven’t +spent hardly any money this month.” + +“All right. Some day soon we’ll go downtown and find out how much it’s +going to cost and what we’ll need and everything. I say, we can get Bob +to help us, too!” + +“Rather! And three or four other fellows, I guess. Every one likes the +Widow, and George says there will be five or six fellows here during +recess. He was here last year, and he says he had a dandy time.” + +“Let’s get George this afternoon and get the thing started. We can find +out the—the area and ask the man how much we’ll need.” + +“Sure! And we can buy it and store it at Bob’s. Then all we’ll have to +do will be carry it over the fence. I’ll go down and see if I can find +him. Look here, Neddie. Why don’t we do it before Christmas and make it +a sort of Christmas present? Say we worked hard all day Thursday and +Friday—” + +“Great! Only if it snowed—” + +Laurie’s face fell. “Gee, that’s so! I suppose we couldn’t do it if it +snowed. Or rained. Or if it was frightfully cold.” + +“They say it doesn’t get real cold here until after New Year’s,” said +Ned, reassuringly. “But of course it might snow or rain. Well, we’ll do +it in time for Christmas if we can. If we can’t, we’ll do it for New +Year’s. I’ll bet she’ll be tickled to death. I say, though! We never +found out about the color!” + +“I did,” answered Laurie modestly. “I asked Polly. She said white.” + +“White! Geewhillikins, Laurie, that makes it harder, doesn’t it? We’d +have to put on two coats!” + +“Think so?” Laurie frowned. “I guess we would. That would take twice as +long, eh? Look here; maybe—maybe I can get Polly to change her mind!” + +“That’s likely, you chump!” Ned scowled thoughtfully. Finally, “I tell +you what,” he said. “Suppose we went around there sometime, and talked +with Mrs. Deane, and told her how nice we think blue looks and how sort +of—of distinctive! Gee, it wouldn’t be any trick at all to make it +blue; but white—” He shook his head despondently. + +“Cheer up!” said Laurie. “I’ve got the dope, partner! Listen. We’ll tell +them that it ought to be blue because blue’s the school color and all +that. Mrs. Deane thinks a heap of Hillman’s, and she’ll fall for it as +sure as shooting. So’ll Polly! Come on! Let’s find George and get the +thing started!” + +“Better get Bob to go with us, too. He said something about wanting to +pay his share of it, so we’d better let him in right from the start. +After all, we don’t want to hog it, Laurie!” + +A fortnight later the exodus came. Of the four-score lads who lived at +Hillman’s, all but eight took their departure that Wednesday morning, +and Ned and Laurie and George watched the last group drive off for the +station with feelings of genuine satisfaction. Life at school during the +eleven days of recess promised to be busy and enjoyable, and they were +eager to see the decks cleared, so to speak, and to start the new way of +living. Ned and Laurie had had plenty of invitations for Christmas week. +Both Kewpie and Lee Murdock had earnestly desired their society at their +respective homes, and there had been others less insistent but possibly +quite as cordial invitations. But neither one had weakened. George half +promised one of the boys to visit him for a few days after Christmas, +but later he canceled his acceptance. + +Besides George and the twins, there remained at school five other +fellows who, because they lived at a distance and railway fares were +high, or for other reasons, found it expedient to accept Doctor +Hillman’s hospitality. None of the five, two juniors, one lower middler, +and two upper middlers, were known to the twins more than casually when +recess began; but eating together three times a day and being thrown in +one another’s society at other times soon made the acquaintance much +closer, and all proved to be decent, likable chaps. + +Meals were served at a corner table in West Hall, and during recess +there were seldom fewer than three of the faculty present. That may +sound depressing, but in vacation-time an instructor becomes quite a +human, jovial person, and the scant dozen around the table enjoyed +themselves hugely. In the evening Doctor Hillman held open house, and +Miss Tabitha showed a genius for providing methods of entertainment. +Sometimes they popped corn in the fireplace in the cozy living-room, +sometimes they roasted apples. Once it was chestnuts that jumped on the +hearth. Then, too, Miss Tabitha was a past mistress in the art of making +fudge, and on two occasions Mr. Barrett, the mathematics instructor, +displayed such a sweet tooth that the boys lost the last of their awe +and “ragged” him without mercy. Several times the Doctor read aloud, +choosing, to the boys’ surprise, a corking detective novel that had them +squirming on the edges of their chairs. Toward the last of the vacation, +Laurie confided to Ned and George that he wished recess was just +beginning. + +To Ned’s and Laurie’s great disappointment, neither snow nor ice +appeared and the weather remained merely briskly cold, with sometimes a +day like Indian summer. But I am getting ahead of my story, which really +comes to an end on Christmas Day. + +More than a week before the closing of school, the four conspirators had +finished their preparations for the task that was to provide the Widow +Deane with a novel Christmas present. In Bob’s cellar were many cans +containing blue paint, white paint, linseed oil, and turpentine. There +were brushes there, too, and a scraper, and a roll of cotton rags +provided by Polly. For, in the end, it had become necessary to acquaint +Polly with the project. Against Bob’s back fence reposed all the +ladders, of varying lengths, that the neighborhood afforded. Wednesday +evening Ned and Laurie and George herded the other boys into George’s +room, and explained the scheme and asked for volunteers. They got five +most enthusiastic ones. + +Nine o’clock the next morning was set as the time for the beginning of +the work, and at that hour nine rather disreputably-attired youths +appeared in Mrs. Deane’s yard, arriving by way of the back fence, and +began their assault. The first the Widow knew of what was happening was +when, being then occupied with the task of tidying up the sleeping-room +on the second floor, she was startled to see the head and shoulders of a +boy appear outside her window. Her exclamation of alarm gave place to +murmurs of bewilderment as the supposed burglar contented himself with +lifting the two shutters from their hinges and passing them down the +ladder to some unseen accomplice. Mrs. Deane looked forth. In the garden +was what at first glimpse looked like a convention of tramps. They were +armed with ladders and brushes and pots of paint, and they were already +very busy. Across two trestles set on the grass plot, the stolen +shutters were laid as fast as they were taken down. One boy, flourishing +a broad-bladed implement, scraped the rough surfaces. A second plied a +big round brush, dusting diligently. Numbers three and four, as soon as +the first two operatives retired, attacked with brushes dripping with +white paint. In almost no time at all the first shutter was off the +trestles and leaning, fresh and spotless, against the fence. Every +instant another shutter appeared. Mrs. Deane gazed in fascinated +amazement. One after another, she recognized the miscreants: the two +Turner boys, George Watson, Mr. Starling’s son, Hal Goring, the Stanton +boy, and the rest; but, although recognition brought reassurance, +bewilderment remained, and she hurried downstairs as fast as ever she +could go. + +Polly was on the back porch, a very disturbed and somewhat indignant +Towser in her arms, evidently a party to the undertaking, and to her +Mrs. Deane breathlessly appealed. + +“Polly! What are they doing?” she gasped. + +“You’ll have to ask the boys, Mama.” Polly’s eyes were dancing. “Nid, +here’s Mama, and she wants to know what you’re doing!” + +Nid hurried up, a dripping brush in one hand and a smear of white paint +across one cheek, followed by Laurie. The others paused at their various +tasks to watch smilingly. + +“Painting the house, Mrs. Deane!” + +“Painting the house! My house? Why—why—what—who—” + +“Yes’m. There’s the blue paint. It’s as near like the old as we could +find. You don’t think it’s too dark, do you?” + +“But I don’t understand, Nid Turner!” said Mrs. Deane helplessly. “Who +told you to? Who’s going to pay for it?” + +“It’s all paid for, ma’am. It—it’s a sort of Christmas present from +us—from the school. You—you don’t mind, do you?” + +“Well, I never did!” Mrs. Deane looked from Ned to Laurie, her mouth +quivering. “I—I don’t know what to say. I guess I’ll—I’ll go see if +any one’s—in the shop, Polly. Did you think you—heard the bell?” Mrs. +Deane’s eyes were frankly wet as she turned hurriedly away and +disappeared inside. Ned viewed Polly anxiously. + +“Do you think she—doesn’t like it?” he half whispered. + +Polly shook her head and laughed softly, although her own eyes were not +quite dry. “Of course she likes it, you stupid boy! She just didn’t know +what to say. She’ll be back pretty soon, after she’s had a little cry.” + +“Oh!” said Ned and Laurie in chorus, their faces brightening; and Laurie +added apologetically: “Gee, we didn’t want to make her cry, Polly!” + +“That sort of a cry doesn’t hurt,” said Polly. + +Afterward Mrs. Deane said a great deal, and said it very sweetly, and +the boys got more or less embarrassed, and were heartily glad when she +drew Ned to her and kissed him, much to that youth’s distress, and the +incident ended in laughter. By noon the shutters were done, and nine +industrious amateur painters were swarming over the back of the little +house. I’m not going to tell you that the job was done as perfectly as +Sprague and Currie, Painters and Paper-hangers, would have done it, but +you’re to believe that it was done much quicker and at a far greater +saving of money! And when it was finished no one except a professional +would ever have known the difference. Perhaps there was more blue and +white paint scattered around the landscape than was absolutely +necessary, and it always remained a mystery how Antoinette managed to +get her right ear looking like a bit of Italian sky, for every one +professed ignorance and Antoinette was apparently well protected from +spatters. (It took Polly more than a week to restore the rabbit to her +original appearance.) + +When the early winter twilight fell and it became necessary to knock off +work for the day, the blue painting was more than half done and, unless +weather prevented, it was certain that the entire task would be finished +by to-morrow evening. Mrs. Deane served five-o’clock tea,—only it +happened to be four-o’clock tea instead,—and nine very, very hungry +lads did full justice to the repast, and the little room behind the +store held a merry party. Perhaps the prevailing odor of paint detracted +somewhat from Mrs. Deane’s and Polly’s enjoyment of the refreshments, +but you may be certain they made no mention of the fact. + +That night the boys viewed the cloudy sky apprehensively. Laurie, who +knew little about it, declared dubiously that it smelt like snow. But +when morning came, although the cloudiness persisted most of the day, +the weather remained kindly, with just enough frost in the air to chill +feet and nip idle fingers and to give an added zest to labor. Very +little time was wasted on luncheon, and at two o’clock the last slap of +blue paint had been applied and the more difficult work of doing the +white trim began. Fortunately, there were only eleven windows and two +doors, and although “drawing” the sashes was slow and finicking work, +with nine willing hands hard at it the end came shortly after dusk, +when, watched by eight impatient companions, young Haskell, one of the +junior class boys, with trembling fingers drew his brush along the last +few inches of a front window, and then, because he was quite keyed up +and because it was much too dark to see well, celebrated the culmination +of his efforts by putting a foot squarely into a can of white paint! + +When first-aid methods had been applied, he was allowed, on promise to +put only one foot to the floor, to accompany the rest inside and +announce to a delighted and slightly tremulous Mrs. Deane that the work +was completed. There was a real celebration then, with more piping-hot +tea and lots of perfectly scrumptious cream-puffs,—besides less +enticing bread-and-butter sandwiches,—and Mrs. Deane tried hard to +thank the boys and couldn’t quite do it, and Polly failed almost as +dismally, and Laurie made a wonderful speech that no one understood very +well, except for the general meaning, and nine flushed and very happy +youths cheered long and loudly for Mrs. Deane, and finally departed +merrily into the winter twilight, calling back many a “Merry Christmas” +as they went. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII—THE SECRET PASSAGE + + +Christmas Day dawned clear and mild, a green Christmas if ever there was +one. And yet, in spite of the absence of such traditional accompaniments +as snow and ice, the spirit of the season was there in abundance. Ned +and Laurie, wakening early to the sound of church bells, felt Christmasy +right from the first conscious moment. When they hastened down the hall +for their baths, they could hear George and Hal Goring on the floor +below uniting in what they fondly believed was song. Later, at +breakfast, beside a perfectly wonderful repast in which chicken and +little crisp sausages and hot, crisp waffles played leading rôles, the +Doctor and Miss Tabitha had placed at each plate a Christmas card tied +by a tiny blue ribbon to a diminutive painter’s brush! Later on there +was to be a tree in the Doctor’s living-room. In fact, the tree was +already there, and the boys had spent much of the preceding evening +trimming it and placing around its base inexpensive gifts of a joking +nature for one another and the Doctor and Miss Tabitha and the two +instructors who were there. + +Laurie and Ned had exchanged presents with each other and had received +several from home, not the least welcome of which was a check from their +father. And they had bought small gifts for George and Bob. Also, though +you needn’t tell it around school, Laurie had purchased a most +odoriferous and ornate bottle of perfume for Polly! So when, shortly +after breakfast, Ned suggested that Laurie take Bob’s present over to +him, Laurie evinced entire willingness to perform the errand. That he +carried not one gift but two in his pockets was, however, beyond Ned’s +knowledge. A cheerful whistling from the back of the house drew Laurie +past the front entrance, and he found Bob, attired in any but festal +garments, swinging open the bulkhead doors. A pair of old gray trousers +and a disreputable brown sweater formed most of his costume. At sight of +Laurie he gave a joyful whoop. + +“Merry Christmas!” he called. “I was going over to see you in a minute. +Thomas is in bed with a cold or something, and I’m furnace-man and +general factotle—” + +“Factotum, you mean,” laughed Laurie. + +“All right! As you fellows say, what do I care? I don’t own it. Now +you’re here, you can just give me a hand with this load of junk. Dad +says it doesn’t look shipshape for Christmas.” Bob indicated more than a +dozen paint-cans, empty, partly empty, or unopened, and a mess of +brushes, paddles, and rags that they had set there last evening. “I +suppose a lot of these might as well be thrown away, but we’ll dump the +whole caboodle down in the cellar for now.” + +“All right,” agreed Laurie. “First, though, here’s something that Ned +and I thought you might like. It isn’t anything much, you know, Bob; +just a—a trinket.” + +“For me?” Bob took the little packet, and removed the paper and then the +lid, disclosing a pair of silver cuff-links lying in a nest of +cotton-wool. As Laurie said, they weren’t much, but they were neat and +the jeweler had made a very good job of the three plain block letters, +R. D. S., that he had engraved on them. “Gee, they’re corking!” +exclaimed Bob, with unmistakable sincerity. “I needed them, too, Nod. I +lost one of a pair just the other day, and—” + +“I know you did. That’s why we got those.” + +“Well, I’m awfully much obliged. They’re great. I’ve got a couple of +little things upstairs for you chaps. They aren’t nearly so nice as +these, but I’ll get ’em—” + +“Wait till we finish this job,” said Laurie. “Grab a handful and come +on. Is Thomas very sick?” + +“I guess not,” replied Bob, as he followed the other down the steps. “He +ate some breakfast, but aunt thought he’d better stay in bed. I had a +great time with the furnace this morning. Got up at half-past six and +shoveled coal to beat the band!” + +“Where do you want to put these?” asked Laurie. + +“Anywhere, I guess. Hold on; let’s dump ’em on the shelves in the closet +there. Then they’ll be out of the way. Some day we’ll clean the cans all +out, and maybe we’ll get enough to paint that arbor we’re going to +build. Here you are.” + +Bob led the way to a small room built against the rear wall of the big +cellar. Designed for a preserve closet, its shelves had probably long +been empty of aught save dust, and the door, wide open, hung from one +hinge. It was some six feet broad and perhaps five feet deep, built of +matched boards. Before Bob entered the cobwebby doorway with his load of +cans, its only contents were an accumulation of empty preserve-jars in a +wooden box set on the cement floor beneath a lower shelf at the back. +There were eight shelves across the rear wall, divided in the center by +a vertical board into two tiers. Bob placed his load on a lower shelf +and Laurie put his on the shelf above. As he drew away he noticed that +the shelf appeared to have worked out from the boards at the back, and +he gave it a blow on the edge with the flat of one hand. It slipped back +into place, but, to his surprise, it came forward again an inch or two, +and all the other shelves in that tier came with it! + +“Hey!” said Laurie, startled. + +Bob, at the doorway, turned. “What’s the matter?” he asked. + +“Nothing, only—” Laurie took hold of the shelf above the loosened one +and pulled. It yielded a little, and so did the other shelves and the +rear wall of the cubicle, but it was only a matter of less than an inch. +Bob, at his side, looked on interestedly. + +“That’s funny,” he said. “Push on it.” + +Laurie pushed, and the tier went back a couple of inches. “Looks like +this side was separate from the rest,” said Laurie. “What’s the idea of +having it come out like that?” + +“Search me!” answered Bob. “Pull it toward you again and let me have a +look.” A second later he exclaimed: “The whole side is loose, Nod, but +it can’t come out because the ends of the shelves strike this partition +board! Try it again!” Laurie obeyed, moving the tier back and forth +three or four times as far as it would go. Bob shook his head in +puzzlement, his gaze roving around the dim interior. Then, “Look here,” +he said. “The shelves on the side aren’t on a level with the back ones, +Nod.” + +“What of it?” + +“Nothing, maybe; only, if the back swung out the side shelves wouldn’t +stop it! See what I mean?” + +“Not exactly. Anyhow, it doesn’t swing out, so what’s the—” + +“Hold on!” Bob sprang forward and seized the edge of a shelf in the +right-hand tier close to the partition board, and pulled. It readily +yielded an inch, but no more. + +“Wait!” Laurie bent and pulled aside the box of jars. “Now!” + +Then, as Bob tugged, to their amazement the right-hand tier swung toward +them, its lower edge scraping on the cement floor, and the left-hand +tier swung with it, the whole back wall of the closet, shelves and all, +opening toward them like a pair of double doors! + +“Gee!” whispered Laurie. “What do you suppose—” + +“Pull them wide open and let’s find out,” said Bob recklessly. + +When the two sides were open as far as they would go, there was an +aperture between them some three feet wide. Beyond it was darkness, +though, as they gazed, the stones of the cellar wall took shape dimly. +Then Laurie seized Bob’s arm. + +“Look!” he whispered excitedly. Behind, where the left-hand tier of +shelves had stood, was a blacker patch about three feet high by two feet +wide, which, as they stared in fascination, evolved itself into an +opening in the wall. + +“Know what I think?” asked Bob, in low tones. “I think we’ve found the +miser’s hiding-place, Nod!” + +“Honest? Maybe it’s just a—a drain or something. Got a match?” + +“There are some over by the furnace. Hold your horses!” Bob hurried out, +and was back in a moment and was standing at the opening between the +doors with a lighted match held toward the opening in the wall. As the +little light grew they saw that the stones of the wall had been removed +from a space of a foot above the floor and three feet high and some two +feet wide. Around the opening so made cement had been applied in the +form of a smooth casing. + +The match flickered and went out, and in the succeeding gloom the two +boys stared at each other with wide eyes. + +“Would you dare go in there?” asked Laurie. + +“Sure! Why not? It can’t be anything but a sort of cave underground. +Wait till I get a candle.” + +“A lantern would be better,” suggested Laurie, viewing the hole +dubiously. + +“That’s so, and there’s one here somewhere. I noticed it the other day.” +Bob’s voice came from the cellar beyond, and Laurie heard him walking +around out there. Then, “I’ve got it!” Bob called. “There’s oil in it, +too! Now we’ll have a look!” + +Laurie heard the chimney of the lantern squeak as it was forced up and +then drop into place again. Then a wan light came toward the closet, and +Bob appeared, triumphant and excited. “Wait till I turn it up a bit. +There we are! Come on!” + +They passed through between the doors, Bob leading, and stooped before +the hole in the wall. Bob held the lantern inside, and Laurie peered +over his shoulder. “Gee, it’s high,” whispered the latter. + +“Yes, and it isn’t a cave at all; it’s a tunnel!” said Bob, in awed +tones. “What do you say?” + +“I’ll go, if you will,” replied Laurie, stoutly; and without much +enthusiasm Bob ducked his head and crawled through. Past the two-foot +wall was a passage, more than head-high and about a yard in width, stone +walled and arched, that led straight ahead farther than the light of the +lantern penetrated. The walls were dry, but the earthen floor was damp +to the touch. There was a musty odor, though the air in there seemed +fresh. + +“Where do you suppose it goes to?” asked Bob, in a hushed voice. + +“I can’t imagine. But it runs straight back from the cellar, and so it +must pass under the garden. Let’s—let’s go on, Bob.” + +“Sure! Only I thought we were going to find old Coventry’s treasure!” + +“How do you know we aren’t?” asked Laurie. + +“That’s so! Maybe he buried it under the garden.” Their footfalls +sounded clearly on the hard-packed earth floor as they went ahead. +Suddenly Bob, in the lead, uttered an exclamation, and Laurie jumped a +foot and then hurried forward to where the other was standing. Beside +him, its point buried in the floor of the tunnel, was the lost crowbar! + +“What do you know?” gasped Bob. “We’re under the farther end of the +arbor. That bar came through between those stones up here.” He touch the +crevice in the arched roof with a finger. “See the dirt it brought down +with it? Well, that explains that mystery!” + +“Yes, but—where does this thing go to, Bob?” + +“Let’s find out. It can’t go much farther, because the arbor was only +about forty feet from the back fence.” + +But they went that forty feet and perhaps forty more before the wavering +light of the lantern showed them a stout wooden door across their path. +Formed of two-inch planking and strengthened with three broad cleats, it +was hinged to a frame of concrete. It wasn’t a big door, but it looked +very formidable to the two boys who stood there and viewed it dubiously +in the yellow glare of the lantern; for a big square iron lock held it +firmly in place. + +“Guess we don’t go any farther,” said Bob, dryly. + +“Maybe the key’s here somewhere,” Laurie suggested; and, although Bob +scoffed at the suggestion, they searched thoroughly but without success. + +“We could bust it,” Bob said; “only maybe we haven’t any right to.” + +“I don’t see why not, Bob. We discovered it. Let’s!” + +“We-ell, but one of us’ll have to go for a hammer or something.” + +“Sure; I’ll go.” + +“And leave me here in the dark? I guess not!” + +“We’ll both go, then. Hold on! What’s the matter with the crowbar?” + +“Of course! I never thought of that! I’ll fetch it!” The light receded +down the tunnel until it was small and dim, and Laurie, left alone in +front of the mysterious portal, felt none too happy. Of course there was +nothing to be afraid of, but he was awfully glad when the light drew +nearer again and Bob returned. “You hold this,” directed Bob, “and I’ll +give it a couple of whacks.” + +Laurie took the lantern, and Bob brought the bar down smartly on the +lock. Probably it was old and rusty, for it broke into pieces under the +blow, and in another instant they had thrust the heavy bolt back. Then +Bob took a long breath and pulled the door toward them. The hinges +squeaked loudly, startlingly, in the silence. Before them lay darkness, +and Laurie, leaning past the doorway, raised the lantern high. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV—A MERRY CHRISTMAS + + +“Guess Laurie got lost,” grumbled Ned, kicking one foot against the step +and looking across the yard. + +George laughed. “Guess you could find him if you went as far as the +Widow’s, Nid.” + +“Well, he ought to be back. It’s nearly time for the tree, isn’t it?” +Characteristically, Ned saved himself the trouble of determining the +matter for himself, and it was George who looked at his watch. + +“There’s ’most an hour yet. Let’s go and have a look for him. He and Bob +are probably at Polly’s.” + +But they didn’t get as far as Polly’s just then, for when they reached +the corner they descried Laurie tearing along the side yard of the +Coventry place. At sight of them he moderated his speed slightly and +began to shout, waving both hands in a quite demented manner. + +“What’s he saying?” asked George. “What’s wrong?” + +“Wants us to hurry,” grumbled Ned. “We are hurrying, you idiot!” he +continued, raising his voice. But he hurried faster, George at his +heels, and met Laurie at the front gate. + +“What’s your trouble?” he demanded. “House on fire? Bob got the croup? +What is it? Can’t you talk?” + +“Can’t tell you,” panted Laurie. “You’ve got to see—for yourself! Come +on!” + +He seized Ned by one arm, and pulled him away and around the house and +down the bulkhead steps, George loping after them. In the cellar stood +Bob, disreputable in his old clothes and adorned with dust and cobwebs, +a lighted lantern in one hand. + +“Has he told you?” he cried, as the others piled down the stairs. + +“Told me? He hasn’t told anything,” gasped Ned, shaking himself free at +last. “What is it?” + +Bob laughed loudly and gleefully. “Then come on!” he shouted. He dashed +into the preserve closet, Ned, George, and Laurie at his heels, passed +from sight for an instant, and was seen again crawling through a hole in +the wall. Ned and George showered questions as they pattered along the +tunnel, but all they received in reply was insane laughter and a +meaningless, breathless jumble of words. And then they were at the +farther portal, and Bob led the way through, and they followed. + +They found themselves in a small cellar-like compartment scarcely four +paces square. It was windowless, although, close to the raftered ceiling +in the rear wall, two oblongs of brick set in the stone showed where at +some time small windows had been. The floor was paved with flat stones. +In one corner, the only objects there, were a small iron chest, its lid +swung open and back, and a crowbar. The newcomers stared in amazement, +the truth slowly dawning on them. It was Laurie who spoke first. + +“Go and look!” he said excitedly. + +Ned and George obeyed. Within the chest lay four fat, heavy brownish +envelopes, bound and tied with pink tape. + +“Take one out and open it,” said Bob over Ned’s shoulder. + +Ned picked up one. Across one end was written in scrawly characters the +inscription “Gov’t.” + +“‘Government,’” explained Laurie, softly. “It’s full of United States +bonds. Nearly a dozen of them. Have a look.” + +“Geewhillikins!” breathed Ned, in awe, as he drew the folded contents +into the light. “Old Coventry’s, do you mean?” + +“Of course! Whose else? And there are three more lots. We haven’t +figured them up yet, but there must be fifty thousand dollars’ worth!” + +“Maybe they’re no good,” offered George. + +“How do you mean, no good?” asked Ned indignantly. “United States bonds +are always good!” + +“Well, the others—” + +“They’re railroad bonds, all of them, three different lots,” said Bob. +“I guess they’re all right, too, don’t you, Ned?” + +“Right as rain! Why, the old codger—What’s that?” he asked suddenly, +looking ceiling-ward. Laurie laughed. + +“That’s what we wondered,” he answered. “We jumped when we heard it +first. Don’t you know where you are?” + +Ned looked around him and shook his head. + +“Under the Widow Deane’s house!” + +“Wha-at! But Polly said there wasn’t any cellar!” + +“She doesn’t know any better. Look above you. See where the stairway +went? The old chap must have torn it away and boarded the hole up; and +bricked up the windows, too. It must have cost him a pretty penny to do +all this!” + +“What—what are you going to do with it?” asked George, pointing to the +chest. + +“Why, hand it over to the lawyers, whoever they are, I suppose,” +answered Bob. “But first of all we’re going to take those bonds and dump +them into the Widow’s lap. I always said I’d hand it all over to her, +when I found it. I never thought I would find it, but I have—or Laurie +has, because if he hadn’t noticed that the shelves were loose we never +would—” + +“Besides,” interrupted George, “she comes in for a share of the money. +Come on, fellows! Let’s do it now! Gee, it will be some Christmas +present!” + +“Won’t it? Let’s each one take a package,” said Laurie. “We’ll leave +everything just as it is for the lawyer folks. Come on!” + +“Say, fellows, there’s an awfully funny smell down here,” observed +George. “Sort of—sort of sweet, like—like violets or something. Notice +it?” + +“Yes, I noticed it before I got in here, though,” said Ned. “Wonder what +it is.” + +“Oh, places like this get to smelling funny after they’ve been shut up +for a while,” said Bob. “And I guess this place hasn’t been opened for +two years, eh?” + +“Of course not; not since old Coventry died. Just the same, it’s a +mighty funny odor.” And George sniffed again perplexedly. Laurie, who +had withdrawn to the door, unconsciously placed a hand in one jacket +pocket, where, within a crushed cardboard box, some fragments of glass +were all that remained of Polly’s present! In prying open the lid of the +chest he had brought the end of the crowbar against that pocket, and now +the purchase was only a memory, albeit a fragrant one. + +Some three minutes later four flushed-faced and very joyous youths burst +into the Widow Deane’s shop. To the jangling of the little bell in the +back room Polly appeared, a very pretty, bright-eyed Polly this morning +in a new Christmas dress. + +“Merry Christmas!” she cried. “Merry Christmas, Nid! Merry Christmas, +Bob! Merry Christmas, George! Merry Christmas, Nod!” + +Perhaps Laurie should have felt hurt that his own greeting had come +last; but he wasn’t, for a glance went with it that hadn’t accompanied +the others. But, although the boys answered the greetings in chorus, it +was apparent to Polly that they were there for another purpose than to +wish her a Merry Christmas. + +“Where’s your mother!” demanded Bob. + +“In there.” Polly pointed to the back room, and without ceremony the +four filed past and into the little living-room. Mrs. Deane was seated +in a rocker, her spectacles pushed down on her nose, a paper across her +knees, and her eyes fixed in smiling inquiry on the doorway. + +Bob led the way. On the outspread paper he laid a brown envelop. “Wish +you a Merry Christmas, ma’am,” he said. + +Laurie followed, deposited his envelop beside Bob’s, repeated the +greeting, and drew aside to make way for Nod and George. The Widow +looked inquiringly from the stout envelops to the boys, smiling +tolerantly the while. Boys were always up to pranks, and she liked them, +boys and pranks both! + +“What are these?” she asked, finally, when the fourth envelop lay in her +lap. + +Polly, looking over her shoulder, gasped as she read the writing on one +of the packets, and her eyes, as round as round, looked across at +Laurie. + +“_Nod! They aren’t—You haven’t—_” + +“Yes, they are!” cried Laurie. “Look and see for yourself! Open them, +Mrs. Deane!” + + * * * * * + +Ten minutes later, when the first excitement had somewhat subsided, +Polly clapped her hands. + +“Why,” she cried, “now we know what those sounds were we used to hear, +Mama! They were Uncle Peter down there in the cellar! They were his +footsteps! And only a little while ago I thought I heard sounds sort of +like them! And that must have been you boys!” + +“Of course,” agreed Bob. “And we could hear you folks up here quite +plainly. There goes my last hope of catching a ghost!” + +“How many are there to share in the money, Mrs. Deane?” asked George. + +“Dear me, I’m not quite sure.” She looked inquiringly over her +spectacles at Polly. “Weren’t there seven, dear?” + +“Eight, Mama.” + +“Well, even then it isn’t so bad” said George. “One eighth of +sixty-two-thousand—” + +“Seven thousand seven hundred and fifty,” announced Laurie, promptly. +“And the bonds may be worth more than we figured, ma’am!” + +“Well, I’m sure,” answered Mrs. Deane, “seven thousand dollars is seven +times more money than I ever expected to see! I shan’t know what to do +with it.” She looked quite alarmed and helpless for a moment, but Polly +patted her shoulder reassuringly. + +“You must invest it, dearest, and then you won’t have to keep this place +any longer, because when I go to work—” + +But, instead of vanishing, the Widow Deane’s alarm increased. “Oh, I +couldn’t give up the store, Polly!” she gasped. “Why—why, what would I +do with myself all day?” + +“Yes’m that’s so!” declared Ned, heartily. “Gee, you couldn’t do that! +Why, we wouldn’t have any place to buy cream-puffs!” + +“I guess I would keep on with the store,” Mrs. Deane concluded, when the +laughter had subsided. “I’m afraid I’d never be very happy if I didn’t +have you boys around. Well, it’s certainly very wonderful, isn’t it, +Polly?” + +“It’s—it’s heavenly!” declared Polly. “This is just the most beautiful +Christmas there ever was or ever will be! And I don’t see how we can +ever thank you all for finding—” + +“Gosh!” exclaimed Laurie. “The Doctor’s tree, fellows! We’ll have to +beat it! We’ll leave the bonds here until to-morrow—eh?” + +“But I want to see the tunnel and—and everything!” cried Polly. + +“That’s so! We’ll come over after dinner. Come on, fellows! Neddie, come +away from those tarts!” + +“I was only looking,” sighed Ned. + +Mrs. Deane and Polly went with them to the door. Down the street the +deep-toned bell in the Congregational church was ringing, and, farther +away, other bells were joining in a chorus of glad triumph. Mrs. Deane, +listening, held a very happy look in her face. On the sidewalk, Ned and +Laurie dropped behind their companions, paused, and faced the doorway. +There was a quick exchange of glances between them, and then, bowing, +Ned began and Laurie finished: + + “A Merry Christmas and well-filled bins,” + “Is the hearty wish of the Turner Twins!” + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS *** + +***** This file should be named 37209-0.txt or 37209-0.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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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/37209-0.zip b/old/37209-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc0b1f6 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/37209-0.zip diff --git a/old/37209-8.txt b/old/37209-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5b281a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/37209-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7592 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Turner Twins + +Author: Ralph Henry Barbour + +Illustrator: C. M. Relyea + +Release Date: August 26, 2011 [EBook #37209] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: Through the secret door] + + + + + THE + TURNER TWINS + + BY + RALPH HENRY BARBOUR + + Author of "The Crimson Sweater," "Harry's Island," + "Team-Mates," etc. + + ILLUSTRATED BY + C. M. RELYEA + + NEW YORK + THE CENTURY CO. + 1922 + + + + + Copyright, 1921, 1922, by + The Century Co. + + PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. + + + + + CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I Introduces a Pair of Shoes 3 + II The Girl in the White Middy 13 + III Cakes and Ale 28 + IV Kewpie Starts Something 37 + V In the Performance of Duty 52 + VI Ned is Firm 61 + VII High School Accepts Defeat 70 + VIII In the Miser's House 84 + IX Laurie Hears News 98 + X Polly Entertains 110 + XI Ned Speaks Out 120 + XII The Committee on Arrangements 130 + XIII Ned Gets into the Game 141 + XIV The Fete 154 + XV Ned Has an Idea 170 + XVI Polly Tells a Spook Story 179 + XVII Laurie Makes a Protest 190 + XVIII Before the Battle 201 + XIX Ned is Missing 213 + XX For the Honor of the Turners 223 + XXI The Understudy 238 + XXII The Boys Make a Present 250 + XXIII The Secret Passage 262 + XXIV A Merry Christmas 272 + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +Through the secret door Frontispiece + +"Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!" 36 + +"But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" asked Polly 136 + +"Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em." 240 + + + + +THE TURNER TWINS + + + + +CHAPTER I--INTRODUCES A PAIR OF HEROES + + +"Jail," said the boy in the gray flannels. + +"School," pronounced the boy in the blue serge. + +"Bet you!" + +"No, sir, you owe me ten cents now. You didn't pay up the last time." + +"It's wrong to bet for money, Ned." + +The other set down the suitcase he was carrying and scoffed. "Yes, when +you lose," he observed, with deep sarcasm. "That's thirty-five cents you +owe me. You bet in Chicago that--" + +"That debt's outlawed. Chicago's in Michigan--" + +"Bet you!" + +"And this is New York, and so--" + +"Mighty good thing Dad sent you to school, Laurie. Chicago's in +Illinois, you ignoramus." + +"Is it? Well, who cares?" Laurence Stenman Turner had also deposited the +bag he was carrying on the brick sidewalk and was applying a +lavender-bordered handkerchief to a moist brow. "Just the same, that's a +jail." + +"If that's a jail, I'll eat my hat," declared the other, + +"It's not a school, though, and that's flat," was the prompt retort. + +"Huh, that was an easy one!" Edward Anderson Turner retreated to a +flat-topped stone wall bordering a well-shaded lawn and seated himself +with a sigh of relief. His companion followed suit. Behind them, grass +and trees and flower beds made a pleasant setting for a square gray +house, half hidden from the street. Overhead a horse-chestnut tree +spread low branches across the sidewalk. The quiet village street +ascended gently, curving as it went, empty in both directions. Somewhere +on a neighboring thoroughfare a scissors-grinder was punctuating the +silence with the musical _ding--dang--dong_ of bells. In a near-by tree +a locust was making his shrill clatter. Across the way, the subject of +contention, stood a large red-brick edifice, stone trimmed, many +windowed, costly and unlovely. The boys viewed it silently. Then their +glances fell to the two black suitcases on the curbing. + +"How far did that hombre say it was to the school?" asked Ned Turner, +after a minute of silence. + +"Three quarters of a mile." + +"How far have we walked already?" + +"Mile and a half." + +"Consequently?" + +"Said hombre was a li--was unvoracious." + +"Un-_ver_-acious is the word, old son." + +"What do we care? We don't own it," replied Laurie, cheerfully. "Want to +go on?" + +Ned shook his head slowly. "What time have you got?" he asked. + +"What time do you want?" was the flippant response. + +With a sigh, Ned pulled back his left sleeve and looked at his watch. +"It's only about a quarter to twelve. We don't have to get there until +six if we don't want to." + +"I know, but I couldn't sit on this wall all that time! Besides, what +about lunch?" + +"I'm not very hungry," was the sad reply. + +"That's the trouble with having your breakfast late." + +"That's the trouble with eating two plates of griddle-cakes, you mean," +retorted Laurie. "Anyway, I'm hungry if you're not. Let's go." + +But he made no move, and they continued to dangle their shoes from the +wall and gaze lazily across the shady street. The scissors-grinder's +chime died in the distance. Farther down the street the whirring of a +lawn-mower competed with the locust. + +"Upon a wall they sat them down," murmured Ned, turning a challenging +look on his companion. + +"Lost in the wilds of Orstead Town," added Laurie. + +Ned nodded mild approval and once more silence held. + +Save that one was dressed in gray and the other in blue, the two boys +were strikingly alike. Each was slim of body and round of face, with +red-brown hair and a short, slightly impertinent nose. Ned's eyes were a +trifle bluer than Laurie's and he had the advantage--if advantage it +was--of some five pounds of weight. But neither of these facts was +apparent at first glance. Faces and hands were well browned and the pair +looked extremely healthy. They were dressed neatly, with perhaps more +attention to detail than is usual in lads of their age, their attire +terminating at one end in well-polished brown shoes and at the other in +immaculate black derbies. Their age was fifteen years, three months, and +eleven days. Which, of course, leads you to the correct conclusion that +they were twins. + +"Maybe," hazarded Laurie, presently, "we've lost our way." + +"Don't just see how we could," Ned objected. "The old chap at the +station said we were to keep right along up Walnut Street. This is still +Walnut Street, isn't it?" + +"I suppose so." Laurie's glance strayed right and left. "Must be; I +don't see any walnuts." + +"Guess the only 'nuts' are right here. Come on, let 's hit the trail +again." Ned slid to his feet and took up his burden. "Why the dickens we +didn't take that carriage the fellow wanted to sell us is more than I +see." + +"'Cause we needed the exercise. Also, 'cause we're down to a dollar and +fourteen cents between us--unless you 're holding out." + +"Well, I'm not!" replied Ned, indignantly. "I paid for the breakfasts in +New York--" + +"And I paid for dinner on the diner last night--" + +"Who said you didn't?" They went on leisurely, and presently Ned +continued: "Say, suppose we don't like this ranch after we get +there--then what, old son?" + +Laurie considered thoughtfully. Then, "Two things we can do," he +pronounced. "No, three. We can put up with it, change it to suit us, or +leave it." + +"Leave it! Yes, we can! On a dollar and fourteen cents?" + +"We'll have nearly twenty more when we cash Dad's check and pay the term +bill. Twenty dollars would take us back to New York and buy a lot of +griddle-cakes, anyway." + +Laurie's voice was partly drowned by a small delivery automobile that +dashed into sight at a corner ahead and sped by with a clamor worthy of +a four-ton truck. The brothers looked after it interestedly. "That's the +first sign of life we've seen," said Ned. "Say, I do wish this street +would stop twisting this way. First thing we know, we'll be back at the +station!" + +"Bet you I'd hop the first freight then. I've got a hunch that we're not +going to care for Hillman's School." + +"Speak for yourself. I am. I like this town, too. It's pretty." + +"Oh, it's pretty enough," grumbled Laurie, "but it went to sleep about a +century ago and hasn't waked up since. Here's somebody coming; let's ask +where the school is." + +"It's just a girl." + +"What of it? She probably knows." + +The girl appeared to be of about their own age and wore a white middy +dress with black trimming and a scarlet tie knotted below a V of +sun-browned throat. She wore no hat and her dark hair was gathered into +a single braid. As she drew near she gave the boys a quick glance of +appraisal from a pair of gravely friendly brown eyes. It was Ned who +shifted his suitcase to his left hand and raised his derby. It was +always Ned who spoke first; after that, they alternated scrupulously. + +"Would you please tell us where Hillman's School is?" he asked. + +The girl stopped and her somewhat serious face lighted with a smile. +"It's right there," she replied, and nodded. + +The boys turned to the blankness of a high privet hedge behind an iron +fence. The girl laughed softly. "Behind the hedge, I mean," she +explained. "The gate is a little way around the corner there, on Summit +Street." + +"Oh," said Laurie. That laugh was contagious, and he grinned in +response. "A man at the station told us it was only three quarters of a +mile, but we've been walking for hours!" + +"I guess it's nearer a mile than three quarters," answered the girl, +slowly. She appeared to be giving the matter very serious consideration +and two little thoughtful creases appeared above her nose, a small, +straight nose that was bridged by a sprinkling of freckles. Then the +smile came again. "Maybe it did seem longer, though," she acknowledged, +"for it's uphill all the way; and then, you had your bags. You're new +boys, aren't you?" + +Ned acknowledged it, adding, "Think we'll like it?" + +The girl seemed genuinely surprised. "Why, of course! Every one likes +it. What a perfectly funny idea!" + +"Well," said Laurie, defensively, "we've never tried boarding-school +before, you see. Dad didn't know anything about Hillman's, either. He +chose it on account of the way the advertisement read in a magazine. +Something about 'a moderate discipline rigidly enforced.'" + +The girl laughed again. (She had a jolly sort of laugh, they decided.) +"You're--you're twins, aren't you?" she asked. + +"He is," replied Ned, gravely. + +"Why--why, aren't you both?" Her brown eyes grew very round and the +little lines creased her nose again. + +"It's this way," explained Laurie. "Ned was born first, and so, as there +was only one of him, he wasn't a twin. Then I came, and that made two of +us, and I was a twin. You see, don't you? It's really quite plain." + +The girl shook her head slowly in puzzlement. "I--I'm afraid I don't," +she answered apologetically. "You _must_ be twins--both of you, I +mean--because you both look just like both--I mean, each other!" Then +she caught the sparkle of mischief in Ned's blue eyes and laughed. Then +they all laughed. After which they seemed suddenly to be very good +friends, such good friends that Laurie abandoned custom and spoke out of +turn. + +"I suppose you know a lot of the fellows," he said. + +The girl shook her head. "N--no, not any, really. Of course, I see most +of them when they come to Mother's, but she doesn't like me to--to +_know_ them." + +"Of course not," approved Ned. "She's dead right, too. They're a pretty +poor lot, I guess." + +"Oh, no, they're not, really! Only, you see--" She stopped, and then +went on a trifle breathlessly: "I guess she wouldn't be awfully pleased +if she saw me now! I--I hope you'll like the school." + +She nodded and went on. + +"Thanks," called Laurie. "If we don't like it, we'll change it. +Good-by." + +"Nice kid," observed Ned, tolerantly, as they turned the corner of the +hedge. "Wonder who she is. She said most of the fellows went to her +mother's. Maybe her mother gives dancing lessons or something, eh?" + +"If she does, she won't see me," responded his brother, firmly. "No +dancing for mine." + +"Maybe it's compulsory." + +"Maybe it's esthetic," retorted Laurie, derisively. "It makes no never +mind. I'm agin it. This must be the place. Yes, there's a sign." + +It was a very modest sign a-swing from a rustic post beside a broad +entrance giving on to a well-kept drive. "Hillman's School--Entrance +Only," it read. Laurie stopped in pretended alarm and laid a detaining +clutch on Ned's shoulder. + +"'Entrance Only'! Sounds as if we couldn't ever get out again, Ned! Do +you dare?" + +Ned looked doubtfully through at the curving drive and the red-brick +building that showed beyond the border of trees and shrubbery. Then he +threw back his shoulders and set foot bravely within. + +"Come, comrade, let us know the worst!" + +Laurie, with a gesture of resignation, followed. + +"What you durst I will likewise durst!" + + + + +CHAPTER II--THE GIRL IN THE WHITE MIDDY + + +When Doctor John Hyde Hillman started a modest school for boys, on the +bank of the Hudson River, at Orstead, the town barely crept to the one +brick building that contained dormitory and recitation-rooms. But that +was nearly twenty years ago, and to-day the place is no longer isolated, +but stands well inside the residence section of the village. There are +four buildings, occupying most of an unusually large block. School Hall, +four stories in height, is a red-brick, slate-roofed edifice, whose +unloveliness has been mercifully hidden by ivy. It faces Summit Street +and contains the class-rooms, the offices, and, at one end, the +principal's quarters. Flanking it are the two dormitories, East Hall and +West Hall. These, while of brick too, are modern and far more +attractive. Each contains sleeping-rooms to accommodate forty students, +two masters' studies, a recreation-hall, dining-room, kitchen, and +service-rooms. Behind East Hall is the gymnasium, a picturesque +structure of random-set stone, gray stucco, and much glass. Here, +besides the gymnasium proper, is an auditorium of good size, a modest +swimming-tank, locker-room and baths, and a commodious office presided +over by Mr. Wells, the physical director. From the gymnasium steps one +looks across an attractive, well-kept quadrangle of shaded turf, +vegetable and flower gardens, and tennis-courts. + +Doctor Hillman occupies an apartment at the west end of the School Hall, +gained from the building by way of the school offices, and from without +by way of a wide porch, vine screened in summer and glassed in winter, +an outdoor living-room where, on seasonable Friday afternoons, the +doctor's maiden sister, Miss Tabitha, who keeps house for him, serves +weak tea and layer-cake to all comers. Miss Tabitha, I regret to say, is +known among the boys as "Tabby," with, however, no more intention of +disrespect than in alluding to the doctor as "Johnny." Miss Tabitha's +thin body holds a warm heart, and her somewhat stern countenance belies +her kindly ways. + +On this fifteenth day of September, shortly after twelve o'clock, Miss +Tabitha was seated on the vine-shaded porch in an erect and +uncompromising attitude, her knitting-needles clicking busily. Near by, +but a few moments before released from the office, the doctor was +stretched in a long wicker chair, a morning paper before him. At the +other end of the porch, a gate-legged table was spread for the mid-day +meal, and a middle-aged colored woman--who, when it pleased her, +answered to the name of Aunt Persis--shuffled in and out of sight at +intervals. It was Miss Tabitha who, hearing the sound of steps on the +walk, peered over her glasses and broke the silence. + +"Two more of the boys are coming, John," she announced. + +The doctor grunted. + +"I think they are new boys. Yes, I am sure they are. And bless my soul, +John, they're alike as two peas!" + +"Alike?" The doctor rustled the paper to indicate interest. "Well, why +shouldn't they be? Probably they're brothers. Let me see, weren't those +two boys from California brothers? Of course. Turner's the name." + +"Well, I never saw two boys so much alike in all my born days," Miss +Tabitha marveled. "Do you suppose they can be twins, John?" + +"It's quite within the realm of probability," was the reply. "I believe +that twins do occur occasionally, even in the--er--best-regulated +families." + +"Well, they certainly _are_ twins!" Miss Tabitha laid down her work, +brushed the front of her immaculate dress, and prepared to rise. "I +suppose I had better go and meet them," she added. + +"I don't see the necessity for it, my dear," the doctor protested. +"Cummins may, I think, be relied on to deal even with--er--twins." + +"Of course; but--still--California's such a long way--and they may feel +strange--or lonesome--" + +The doctor laughed gently. "Then by all means go, my dear. If you like, +have them out here for a few minutes. If the resemblance between them is +as striking as you seem to think, they must be worth seeing." + +When Miss Tabitha had tripped into the house, the doctor dropped his +paper, stretched luxuriously, and, with a sigh of protest, sat up. He +was several years younger than his sister--which is to say, in the +neighborhood of forty-seven. He was a smallish man, compactly built, +with a pleasant countenance on which a carefully-trimmed Vandyke beard +made up to an extent for the lack of hair above. He wore shell-rimmed +glasses and was very near-sighted, a fact emphasized by his manner of +thrusting his head forward to eke out the deficiencies of his lenses. +This trick was apparent a minute later when, following in the tripping +footsteps of Miss Tabitha, the two boys emerged on the porch. They were +amazingly alike, the doctor decided: same height, same breadth at hip +and shoulder, same coloring, same leisurely, yet confident, ease of +movement, same expression of lively curiosity twinkling through an +almost depressingly respectful solemnity. + +"These are the Turner boys," announced Miss Tabitha. "This is Edward and +this is--" She halted to look doubtfully from one to the other. "Or--or +perhaps _this_ is Edward and--Dear me!" + +"I'm Edward, ma'am," said the boy in blue. + +"Well, I don't see how you can ever be _certain_ of it!" sighed Miss +Tabitha, doubtfully. "This is Doctor Hillman." + +They shook hands, and in a moment the boys found themselves seated side +by side and replying to the doctor's questions. + +"You are entering with certificates from your high school principal, I +believe, young gentlemen. What year were you?" + +"Second, sir," answered Ned. + +"And your home is in--" + +"Santa Lucia, sir," replied Laurie. + +"California," added Ned. + +"Well, you're quite a ways from home. Did you make the trip alone?" + +"Yes, sir. Dad was coming with us as far as Chicago, but something +happened so he couldn't. We didn't have any trouble, though." + +"Really? Well, I believe you have the distinction of residing farther +away than any of your fellows here. I don't recall any one who lives as +far away as California; do you, sister?" + +Miss Tabitha looked doubtful and hesitated an instant before she +replied, "George Watson comes from Wyoming, I think, John." + +"So he does," assented the doctor, gravely; "but measured in a straight +line, my dear, California is slightly farther than Wyoming." + +"Is it?" asked Miss Tabitha, untroubled. "I never could remember where +those western States are." + +"You remember many more important things, however. My sister, boys, +fancied that she detected a certain resemblance between you, and even +surmised that you might be--er--twins. Doubtless she's mistaken." + +"No, sir," answered Ned, more than a trace of surprise in his voice. "I +mean, we are twins, sir." + +"Why, now that's interesting! Looking closer--" the doctor leaned +forward and craned his head--"I believe I detect a certain slight +similarity myself!" + +There was a perceptible twinkle behind the glasses and Laurie dared a +laugh, in which the doctor and Ned joined, while Miss Tabitha murmured: +"Well! I should think you _might_!" + +"I hope you are both going to like the school," continued the doctor. +"Of course, you'll find our ways a little different, but we'll try to +make you feel at home. You are the first representatives of your State +who have attended our school, and I trust that both in conduct and +industry you will bring honor to it. Mr. Cornish, your hall master, will +advise you in all matters pertaining to your studies, Other questions +may be taken to Mr. Cummins, the school secretary, whom you have +doubtless already met. But I want you always to feel at perfect liberty +to come to me at any time on any matter at all. And," added the doctor, +with a twinkle, "if we fail you, there is still my sister, who, I assure +you, possesses more wisdom than all of us." + +Miss Tabitha acknowledged the compliment with a little wry smile, and +Ned and Laurie arose. + +"Yes, sir," said the former. + +"Thank you, sir," said Laurie. + +"Luncheon is served at one in West Hall," continued the doctor. "That's +the dormitory behind you there. Beginning with supper to-night, you will +take your meals in your own hall, but only a few of the students have +arrived as yet, and so only one dining-room is open. I'm very glad to +have met you, young gentlemen. Mr. Cummins will direct you to your room. +Good morning." + +Five minutes later, the Turner twins set their suitcases down on the +floor of Number 16 East Hall and looked about them. Number 16 was not +palatial as to size, but it was big enough to hold comfortably the two +single beds, the study-table, the two narrow chiffoniers, and the four +chairs that made up its furnishing. There was a generous-sized closet at +each side of the door, and two windows set close together between the +beds. Under the windows was a wide seat, lacking only pillows to make it +inviting. From the casements the boys looked over or through the topmost +branches of the maples that lined Washington Street and followed Summit +Street as it continued its ascent of the hill and presently leveled out +between a thick wood on one side and an open field on the other. + +"That must be the athletic field," said Laurie. "See the stand there? +And the goal-posts? How do you like it?" + +"The field? Looks all right from here." + +"I mean the whole outfit, you simp; the school and Doctor Hillman and +Miss Frosty-Face and everything." + +"Cut out calling names, Laurie. Miss Hillman's all right. So's the +doctor. So's the school. I like it. Wonder when our trunks will get +here." + +"Half an hour ago you had a hunch you weren't going to like it," jeered +Laurie. "Changed your mind, haven't you?" + +"Yes, and I'm going to change more than my mind." Whereupon Ned opened +his bag and selected a clean shirt. "What time is it?" + +"What do you wear a watch for if you never look at it?" grumbled his +brother. "It's ten to one, Lazy. I'm going to find a place to wash up. I +choose this side of the room, Ned." + +Ned studied the room a moment. "No, you don't," he challenged. "I'll +take this side. I'm the oldest." "There isn't any difference, you chump. +One side's as good as the other." + +"Then you won't mind taking the other," answered Ned, sweetly. "Run +along and find the lavatory. I think it's at the head of the stairs. +Wonder why they put us up two flights." + +"Guess they knew you were naturally lazy and needed the exercise." + +Laurie dodged a pair of traveling slippers in a red-leather case and +disappeared into the corridor. + +Some ten minutes later they descended the stairway together and set out +for West Hall. Laurie drew attention to the gymnasium building, but Ned, +who had recovered his appetite, only deigned it a glance. Two boys, +luggage laden, evidently just arrived, came down the steps of School +Hall as the twins passed, and stared curiously. + +"Guess they've never seen twins before in this part of the world," +grumbled Laurie. "Those chaps nearly popped their eyes out!" + +West Hall proved an exact duplicate of their own dormitory, and the +dining-room occupied all the right end of it. There were about fifteen +boys there, in age varying from fourteen to eighteen, and there was a +perceptible pause in the business of eating when the newcomers entered. +A waitress conducted them to seats at a table already occupied by three +other lads, and asked if they'd have milk or iced tea. Ned, as usual, +answered for both. + +"Iced tea, please, and lots of lemon." + +A very stout boy, sitting across the table, sniggered, and then, +encountering Ned's inquiring regard, said, "Guess you think you're in +the Waldorf!" + + +"What's the Waldorf?" asked Ned. "Don't you get lemon with iced tea +here?" + +"Sure! but you don't get much. Say, are you fellows--twins, or what?" + +"Twins?" repeated Laurie. "Where do you get that stuff? This fellow's +name is Anderson and mine's Stenman. What's yours?" + +"Crow. Honest, is that a fact?" Crow looked appealingly at the other +occupants of the table. These, however, two rather embarrassed-looking +youngsters of fourteen or thereabouts, fixed their eyes on their plates, +and Crow turned his regard incredulously back to the twins. "Gee, you +fellows look enough alike to be--be--" He swallowed the word. "Aren't +you even related?" + +Ned gazed speculatively at Laurie and Laurie gazed speculatively at Ned. +"We might be," hazarded the latter. + +Laurie nodded. "If we went back far enough, we might find a common +ancestor." + +The arrival of luncheon caused a diversion, although Crow, who was a +round-faced, credulous-looking youth of perhaps seventeen, continued to +regard them surreptitiously and in puzzlement. At last, making the +passing of the salt an excuse, for further conversation, he asked, +"Where do you fellows come from?" + +"California," said Ned. + +"Santa Lucia," said Laurie. + +"Well, but," sputtered Crow, "isn't California in Santa--I mean, isn't +Santa--Say, you guys are joking, I'll bet!" + +"Methinks," observed Ned, helping himself gravely to mustard, "his words +sound coarse and vulgar." + +Laurie abstractedly added a fourth teaspoon of sugar to his iced tea. +"Like Turk or Kurd or even Bulgar," he murmured. + +Crow stared, grunted, and pushed his chair back. "You fellows think +you're smart, don't you?" he sputtered. "Bet you you are twins--both of +you!" + +Ned and Laurie looked after him in mild and patient surprise until his +broad back had disappeared from view. Then a choking sound came from one +of the younger lads, and Ned asked gently, "Now what's your trouble, +son?" + +The boy grew very red of face and gave way to giggles. "I knew all the +time you were twins," he gasped. + +"Did you really?" exclaimed Laurie. "Well, listen. Just as a favor to +us, don't say anything about it, eh? You see, we're sort of--sort of--" + +"Sort of sensitive," aided Ned. "We'd rather it wasn't generally known. +You understand, don't you?" + +The boy looked as if he was very far indeed from understanding, but he +nodded, choked again, and muttered something that seemed to indicate +that the secret was safe with him. Laurie thanked him gratefully. + +After luncheon they went sight-seeing about the school, snooped through +the dim corridors and empty class-rooms of School Hall, viewed the +gymnasium and experimented with numerous apparatus, and finally, after +browsing through a flower and vegetable garden behind the recitation +building and watching two boys make a pretense of playing tennis, +returned to Number 16 in the hope of finding their trunks. But the +baggage had not arrived, and presently, since the room was none too +cool, they descended again and followed the curving drive to the right +and past a sign that said "Exit Only" and wandered west on Summit +Street. + +For the middle of September in the latitude of southern New York the +weather was decidedly warm, and neither grass nor trees hinted that +autumn had arrived. In the well-kept gardens across the way, scarlet +sage and cosmos, asters and dahlias made riots of color. + +"Hot!" grunted Ned, running a finger around the inside of his collar. + +"Beastly," agreed Laurie, removing his cap and fanning his heated face. +"Wonder where the river is. If we had our bathing-suits, maybe we could +go for a swim." + +"Yes, and if we had a cake of ice we could sit on it!" responded Ned, +sarcastically. "This place is hotter than Santa Lucia." + +At the next corner they turned again to the right. Morton Street, like +so many of the streets in Orstead, refused to go straight, and after a +few minutes, to their mild bewilderment, they found themselves on Walnut +Street once more, a block below the school. + +"I'm not going back yet," said Laurie, firmly. "Let's find a place where +we can get something cool to drink." + +As Walnut Street was unpromising, they crossed it and meandered along +Garden Street. The houses here appeared to be less prosperous, and the +front yards were less likely to hold lawn and flowers than dilapidated +baby-carriages. At the first crossing they peered right and left, and +were rewarded by the sight of a swinging sign at a little distance. + +What the sign said was as yet a mystery, for the trees intervened, but +Laurie declared that he believed in signs and they made their way toward +it. It finally proved to be a very cheerful little sign hung above a +little white door in a little pale-blue two-story house, the lower floor +of which was plainly devoted to commercial purposes. + + L. S. DEANE + BOOKS, TOYS, AND + CONFECTIONERY + CIRCULATING LIBRARY + LAUNDRY AGENCY + TONICS + +That is what the sign said in red letters on a white background. The +windows, many paned, allowed uncertain glimpses of various articles: +tops of red and blue and green, boxes of pencils, pads of paper, jars of +candy, many bottles of ink, a catcher's glove, a dozen tennis-balls, +some paper kites-- + +Laurie dragged Ned inside, through a screen door that, on opening, +caused a bell to tinkle somewhere in the farther recesses of the little +building. It was dark inside, after the glare of the street, and +refreshingly cool. Laurie, leading the way, collided with a bench, +caromed off the end of a counter, and became aware of a figure, dimly +seen, beyond the width of a show-case. + +"Have you anything cold to drink?" asked Ned, leaning across the +show-case. + +"Ginger-ale or tonic or something?" Laurie elaborated. + +"Yes, indeed," replied the apparition, in a strangely familiar voice. +"If you will step over to the other side, please--" + +Ned and Laurie leaned farther across the show-case. + +It was the girl in the white middy dress. + + + + +CHAPTER III--CAKES AND ALE + + +"Hello!" exclaimed the twins, in one voice. + +"Hello," replied the girl, and they suspected that she was smiling, +although their eyes were still too unused to the dimness of the little +store for them to be certain. She was still only a vague figure in +white, with a deeper blur where her face should have been. Treading on +each other's heels, Ned and Laurie followed her to the other side. The +twilight brightened and objects became more distinct. They were in front +of a sort of trough-like box in which, half afloat in a pool of +ice-water, were bottles of tonic and soda and ginger-ale. Behind it was +a counter on which reposed a modest array of pastry. + +"What do you want?" asked the girl in the middy. + +"Ginger-ale," answered Ned. "Say, do you live here?" + +"No, this is the shop," was the reply. "I live upstairs." + +"Oh, well, you know what I mean," muttered Ned. "Is this your store?" + +"It's my mother's. I help in it afternoons. My mother is Mrs. Deane. The +boys call her the Widow. I'm Polly Deane." + +"Pleased to know you," said Laurie. "Our name's Turner. I'm Laurie and +he's Ned. Let me open that for you." + +"Oh, no, thanks. I've opened hundreds of them. Oh dear! You said +ginger-ale, didn't you! And I've opened a root-beer. It's so dark in +here in the afternoon." + +"That's all right," Ned assured her. "We like root-beer. We'd just as +soon have it as ginger-ale. Wouldn't we, Laurie?" + +"You bet! We're crazy about it." + +"Are you sure? It's no trouble to--Well, _this_ is ginger-ale, anyway. +I'm awfully sorry!" + +"What do we care?" asked Ned. "We don't own it." + +"Don't own it?" repeated Polly, in a puzzled tone. + +"That's just an expression of his," explained Laurie. "He's awfully +slangy. I try to break him of it, but it's no use. It's fierce." + +"Of course _you_ don't use slang?" asked Polly, demurely. "Who wants the +root-beer?" + +"You take it," said Laurie, hurriedly. + +"No, you," said Ned. "You're fonder of it than I am, Laurie. I don't +mind, really!" + +Laurie managed a surreptitious kick on his brother's shin. "Tell you +what," he exclaimed, "we'll mix 'em!" + +Ned agreed, though not enthusiastically, and with the aid of a third +glass the deed was done. The boys tasted experimentally, each asking a +question over the rim of his glass. Then looks of relief came over both +faces and they sighed ecstatically. + +"Corking!" they breathed in unison. + +Polly laughed, "I never knew any one to do that before," she said. "I'm +glad you like it. I'll tell the other boys about it." + +"No, you mustn't," protested Ned. "It's our invention. We'll call +it--call it--" + +"Call it an Accident," suggested Laurie. + +"We'll call it a Polly," continued the other. "It really is bully. +It's--it's different; isn't it, Laurie? Have another?" + +"Who were those on?" was the suspicious reply. + +"You. The next is on me. Only maybe another wouldn't taste so good, eh?" + +"Don't you fool yourself! I'll risk that." + +However, the third and fourth bottles, properly combined though they +were, lacked novelty, and it was some time before the last glass was +emptied. Meanwhile, of course, they talked. The boys acknowledged that, +so far, they liked what they had seen of the school. Mention of the +doctor and Miss Hillman brought forth warm praise from Polly. "Every one +likes the doctor ever so much," she declared. "And Miss Tabitha is--" + +"Miss what?" interrupted Laurie. + +"Miss Tabitha. That's her name." Polly laughed softly. "They call her +Tabby,--the boys, I mean,--but they like her. She's a dear, even if she +does look sort of--of cranky. She isn't, though, a bit. She makes +believe she's awfully stern, but she's just as soft as--as--" + +"As Laurie's head?" offered Ned, helpfully. "Say, you sell 'most +everything here, don't you? Are those cream-puffs?" + +Ned slipped a hand into his pocket and Laurie coughed furiously. Ned's +hand came forth empty. He turned away from temptation. "They look mighty +good," he said. "If we'd seen those before we'd had all that +ginger-ale--" + +Polly spoke detachedly. "You can have credit if you like," she said, +placing the empty bottles aside. "The doctor lets the boys run bills +here up to a dollar. They can't go over a dollar, though." + +"Personally," observed Laurie, jingling some coins in a trousers pocket, +"I prefer to pay cash. Still, there are times--" + +"Yes, a fellow gets short now and then," said Ned, turning for another +look at the pastry counter. "Maybe, just for--for convenience, it would +be a good plan to have an account here, Laurie. Sometimes a fellow +forgets to put any money in his pocket, you know. Does your mother make +these?" + +"Yes, the cream-cakes, and some of the others. The rest Miss Comfort +makes." + +"That's another funny name," said Laurie. "Who is Miss Comfort?" + +"She's--she's just Miss Comfort, I guess," replied Polly. "She lives on +the next corner, in the house with the white shutters. She's quite old, +almost seventy, I suppose, and she makes the nicest cake in Orstead. +Everybody goes to her for cakes. That's the way she lives, I guess." + +"Maybe we'd ought to help her," suggested Ned, mentally choosing the +largest and fattest cakes on the tray. "I guess we'll take a couple. How +much are they?" + +"Six cents apiece," said Polly. "Do you want them in a bag?" + +"No, thanks." Ned handed one of the cakes to Laurie; "we'll eat them +now." Then, between mouthfuls; "Maybe you'd better charge this to us. If +we're going to open an account, we might as well do it now, don't you +think?" + +Polly retired behind a counter and produced a long and narrow book, from +which dangled a lead pencil at the end of a string. She put the tip of +the pencil between her lips and looked across. "You'd better tell me +your full names, I think." + +"Edward Anderson Turner and--" + +"I meant just your first names." + +"Oh! Edward and Laurence. You can charge us each with two bottles and +one cake." + +"I like that!" scoffed Laurie. "Thought you were treating to cakes?" + +"Huh! Don't you want to help Miss Comfort? I should think you'd like +to--to do a charitable act once in a while." + +"Don't see what difference it makes to her," grumbled Laurie, "whether +you pay for both or I pay for one. She gets her money just the same." + +Ned brushed a crumb from his jacket. "You don't get the idea," he +replied gently. "Of course, I might pay for both, but you wouldn't feel +right about it, Laurie." + +"Wouldn't I? Where do you get that stuff? You try it and see." Laurie +spoke grimly, but not hopefully. Across the counter, Polly was giggling +over the account-book. + +"You're the funniest boys I ever did see," she explained, in answer to +their inquiring looks. "You--you say such funny things!" + +Before she could elucidate, footsteps sounded in the room behind the +store and a tiny white-haired woman appeared. In spite of her hair, she +couldn't have been very old, for her face was plump and unwrinkled and +her cheeks quite rosy. Seeing the customers, she bowed prettily and said +"Good afternoon" in a very sweet voice. + +"Good afternoon," returned the twins. + +"Mama, these are the Turner boys," said Polly. "One of them is Ned and +the other is Laurie, but I don't know which, because they look just +exactly alike. They--they're twins!" + +"I want to know!" said Mrs. Deane. "Isn't that nice? I'm very pleased to +meet you, young gentlemen. I hope Polly has served you with what you +wanted. My stock is kind of low just now. You see, we don't have many +customers in summer, and it's very hard to get things, nowadays, even if +you do pay three times what they're worth. Polly, those ice-cream cones +never did come, did they?" + +"Gee, do you have ice-cream?" asked Ned; eagerly. + +"Never you mind!" said Laurie, grabbing his arm. "You come on out of +here before you die on my hands. I'm sorry to tell you, ma'am, that he +doesn't know when to stop eating. I have to go around everywhere with +him and look after him. If I didn't, he'd be dead in no time." + +"I want to know!" exclaimed the Widow Deane interestedly. "Why, it's +very fortunate for him he has you, isn't it?" + +"Yes'm," answered Laurie, but he spoke doubtfully, for the little +white-haired lady seemed to hide a laugh behind her words. Ned was +grinning. Laurie propelled him to the door. Then, without relinquishing +his grasp, he doffed his cap. + +"Good afternoon," he said, "We'll come again," + +"We know not how," added Ned, "we know not when." + +"Bless my soul!" murmured the Widow, as the screen door swung behind +them. + +Back at school, the twins found a different scene from what they had +left. The grounds were populous with boys, and open windows in the two +dormitory buildings showed many others. The entrances were piled with +trunks and more were arriving. A rattling taxi turned in at the gate, +with much blowing of a frenzied but bronchial horn, and added five merry +youths to the population. Ned and Laurie made their way to East Hall, +conscious, as they approached, of many eyes focussed on them from +wide-flung windows. Remarks reached them, too. + +"See who's with us!" came from a second-floor casement above the +entrance; "the two Dromios!" + +"Tweedledum and Tweedledee!" + +"The Siamese Twins, I'll bet a cooky!" + +"Hi, East Hall! Heads out!" + +The two were glad when they reached the shelter of the doorway. "Some +one's going to get his head punched before long," growled Ned, as they +started upstairs. + +"What do we care? We don't own 'em. Let them have their fun, Neddie." + +"I'll let some of them have a wallop," was the answer. "You'd think we +were the first pair of twins they'd ever seen!" + +"Well, maybe we are. How do you know? Suppose those trunks have come?" + +They had, and for the next hour the twins were busy unpacking and +getting settled. From beyond their door came sounds of much turmoil; the +noise of arriving baggage, the banging of doors, shouts, whistling, +singing; but they were otherwise undisturbed until, just when Laurie had +slammed down the lid of his empty trunk, there came a knock at their +portal, followed, before either one could open his mouth in response, by +the appearance in the doorway of a bulky apparition in a gorgeous +crimson bath-robe. + +"Hello, fellows!" greeted the apparition. "Salutations and everything!" + +[Illustration: "Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!"] + + + + +CHAPTER IV--KEWPIE STARTS SOMETHING + + +The twins stared silently and suspiciously for an instant. Then Ned made +cautious response. + +"Hello," he said, with what must have seemed to the visitor a lamentable +lack of cordiality. + +The latter pushed the door shut behind him by the kick of one stockinged +foot, and grinned jovially. "My name's Proudtree," he announced. + +"You can't blame us," replied Laurie, coldly. + +Proudtree laughed amiably. "It is a rotten name, isn't it? I live across +the corridor, you know. Thought I'd drop in and get acquainted, seeing +you're new fellows; extend the hand of friendship and all that. You +understand. By Jove, Pringle was right, too!" + +"That's fine," said Ned, with more than a trace of sarcasm. "What +about?" + +"Why," answered Proudtree, easing his generous bulk into a chair, "he +said you fellows were twins." + +"Not only were," said Laurie, gently, "but are. Don't mind, do you?" + +"Oh, come off your horse," begged the visitor. "Don't be so cocky. Who's +said anything? I just wanted to have a look. Never saw any twins +before--grown-up twins, I mean. You understand." + +"Thought you said you came to extend the hand of friendship," retorted +Ned, sarcastically. "Well, have a good look, partner. There's no +charge!" + +Proudtree grinned and accepted the invitation. Ned fumed silently under +the inspection, but Laurie's sense of humor came to his aid. Proudtree +appeared to be getting a lot of entertainment from his silent comparison +of his hosts, and presently, when Ned's exasperation had just about +reached the explosive point, he chuckled. + +"I've got it," he said. + +"Got what?" Laurie asked. + +"The--the clue! I know how to tell you apart! His eyes are different +from yours; more blue. Yours are sort of gray. But, geewhillikins, it +must be a heap of fun! Being twins, I mean. And fooling people. You +understand." + +"Well, if you're quite through," snapped Ned, "maybe you'll call it a +day. We've got things to do." + +"Meaning you'd like me to beat it?" asked the visitor, good-temperedly. + +"Just that!" + +"Oh, come, Ned," Laurie protested, soothingly, "he's all right. I dare +say we are sort of freakish and--" + +"Sure," agreed Proudtree, eagerly, "that's what I meant. But say, I +didn't mean to hurt any one's feelings. Geewhillikins, if I got waxy +every time the fellows josh me about being fat--" Words failed him and +he sighed deeply. + +Laurie laughed. "We might start a side-show, the three of us, and make a +bit of money. 'Only ten cents! One dime! This way to the Siamese Twins +and the Fat Boy! Walk up! Walk up!'" + +Proudtree smiled wanly. "I only weigh a hundred and seventy-eight and +three quarters, too," he said dolorously. "If I was a couple of inches +taller it wouldn't be so bad." + +"I don't think it's bad as it is," said Laurie, kindly. "You don't look +really _fat_; you just look sort of--of--" + +"Amplitudinous," supplied Ned, with evident satisfaction. + +Proudtree viewed him doubtfully. Then he smiled. "Well, I've got to get +rid of nearly fifteen pounds in the next two weeks," he said, with a +shake of his head, "and that's going to take some doing." + +"What for?" Laurie asked. "Why destroy your symmetry?" + +"Football. I'm trying for center. I nearly made it last year, but +Wiggins beat me out. He's gone now, though, and Mulford as good as said +last spring that I could make it this fall if I could get down to a +hundred and sixty-five." + +"Who's Mulford?" inquired Ned. "A fortune-teller?" + +Proudtree ignored the sarcasm. "Mulford's our coach. He's all right, +too. The trouble with me is, I'm awfully fond of sweet things, and +I--I've been eating a lot of 'em lately. But I guess I can drop fourteen +pounds if I cut out pies and candy and things. Don't you think so?" +Proudtree appealed to Laurie almost pathetically. + +"Don't let any one tell you anything different," replied Laurie, +reassuringly. Ned, evidently recovered from his peevishness, asked: + +"What sort of football do they play here?" + +"Corking!" answered Proudtree. + +"I mean, Rugby or the other?" + +"Rugby!" exclaimed Proudtree, scornfully. "I guess not! We play regular +football. Nobody plays Rugby around these parts. Are you fellows going +out?" + +"Not just yet," replied Ned. + +"He means are we going to try for the football team," explained Laurie. +"Yes, we are, Proudtree; at least, one of us is." + +"You?" + +"We haven't decided yet. You see, we've never played your kind of +football. Back home, at high school, we played American Rugby, and it's +quite different. But we decided that one of us had better go in for +football and the other for baseball, if only to do our duty by the +school." + +Proudtree looked puzzled. "How are you going to decide?" he asked. + +"Oh, we'll toss up or draw lots or something, I suppose. Maybe, though, +Ned had better play football, because I know more baseball than he does. +Still, I'm not particular." + +"That's the limit!" chuckled the visitor. "Say, what are your names? I +didn't see any cards on the door." + +"Turner. His is Laurie and mine's Ned," answered the latter. "Do we put +our names on the door?" + +"It's the best way," answered Proudtree. "Well, I've got to be moving. I +started to take a shower and got side-tracked. You chaps come on over +and see me and I'll get some of the other fellows in. You want to meet +the right sort, you know. What's your class?" + +"Lower middle, I reckon," said Ned. "That's what we expect." + +"Too bad you can't make upper. That's mine. We've got a corking bunch of +fellows this year. Well, see you later. Try for Mr. Barrett's table when +you go down. That's the best. Maybe they'll put you there if you bluff +it out. You understand. So long, fellows." + +Proudtree withdrew with considerable dignity in view of his bulk, waving +a benedictory hand ere the door closed behind him. Ned shook his head. +"Sort of a fresh hombre," he said. + +"Oh, he only meant to be friendly, I reckon," said Laurie. "You +understand." + +Ned laughed. "I'll bet they've got a wonderful football team here if he +plays on it! By the way, maybe we'd better settle which of us is to be +the football star. I suppose they begin to practise pretty soon. I'll be +the goat, if you like; though you had better luck with that book you +bought in Chicago. I couldn't make head or tail of it. I never saw so +many rules for playing one game in my life!" + +"It _was_ sort of difficult," agreed Laurie. "I dare say, though, that +you pick up the rules quick enough when you start to play. If you don't +really mind, I think you'd better go in for football, and I'll do the +baseball stunt. I've played it more than you have, you know, even if I'm +no wonder." + +"All right!" Ned sighed. "We'll get a bottle of arnica to-morrow. +Nothing like being prepared. How about going to see Mr. What's-his-name +before supper about courses?" + +"Might as well, and have it over with. I'd like to know whether we're +going to make the lower middle." + +"Don't see what else we can make. They can't stick us in the junior +class. Where's my coat? For the love of lemons, Laurie, can't you find +anything else to sit on? Gosh, look at the wrinkles!" + +"Those aren't wrinkles; they're just creases. Come on!" + +Half an hour later they closed the door of Mr. Cornish's study on the +floor below, in a chastened mood. Each carried a little buff card +whereon the instructor had tabulated an amazing number and variety of +study periods. Back in Number 16, Ned cast himself into a chair, thrust +his legs forth, and gazed disconsolately at the card. + +"I don't see where a fellow finds time for anything but work here," he +complained. "Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one hours a week! What do you +know about that?" + +"Well, don't be so proud of it. I've got the same, haven't I? I wonder +how many hours he thinks there are in a day?" + +"I tell you what I think," said Ned, after a moment's thought. "I think +he got it into his head that we're very ambitious and want to graduate +next spring!" + +"Maybe that's it," agreed Laurie, gravely. "Shall we go back and tell +him he's wrong?" + +"N-no, let's not. He seemed a well-meaning old codger, and I wouldn't +want to hurt his feelings--if he has any. Let's go down and see what +they've got for supper." + +Ned's blandishments failed with the waitress, and they were established +at a table presided over by a tall and very thin gentleman, whose name, +as they learned presently, was Mr. Brock. There were four tables in the +room, each accommodating ten boys and a member of the faculty. +Diagonally across the dining-hall, the twins descried the ample Mr. +Proudtree. Another table was in charge of a pleasant-faced woman who +proved to be the school matron, Mrs. Wyman. Mr. Cornish, the hall +master, and Mr. Barrett sat at the heads of the remaining boards. + +The room was very attractive, with a fine big stone fireplace at the +farther end, and broad windows on two sides. The food proved plain, but +it was served in generous quantities; and notwithstanding that the twins +were a bit self-conscious, they managed a very satisfactory meal. + +Their fellow-students seemed to be a very decent lot. Their ages +appeared to average about sixteen, and they had the clean, healthy look +of boys who spent much of their time outdoors. At the table at which the +twins sat, four of the boys were evidently seniors, and one was as +evidently a junior. The latter looked hardly more than thirteen, though +he was in reality a year older than that, and had the features and +expression of a cherub. The twins concluded that he was a new boy and +felt a little sorry for him. He looked much too young and innocent to +face the world alone. + +No one made any special effort to engage either Ned or Laurie in +conversation, perhaps because the returning youths had so much to talk +about among themselves. Mr. Brock ate his supper in silence, save when +one of the older boys addressed him, and had a far-away and abstracted +air. Laurie saw him sweeten his tea three times, and then frown in +annoyance when he finally tasted it. + +The boy who had guessed their awful secret at luncheon sat at the next +table, and more than once Ned caught him looking across with a +half-bewildered, half-frightened expression that somehow managed to +convey the intelligence that, in spite of temptation, he had kept the +faith. Ned finally rewarded him with a significant wink, and the youth +retired in confusion behind the milk-pitcher. + +When the meal was over the twins went outside and, following the example +set by others, made themselves comfortable on the grass beyond the walk. +Near by, two older boys were conversing earnestly, and Ned and Laurie, +having exhausted their own subjects of conversation, found themselves +listening. + +"We've got to do it," the larger of the two was saying. "Dave's going to +call a meeting of the school for Friday evening, and Mr. Wells is going +to talk to them. I'll talk too. Maybe you'd better, Frank. You can tell +them a funny story and get them feeling generous." + +"Nothing doing, Joe. Leave me out of it. I never could talk from a +platform. Anyway, it's the fellows' duty to provide money. If they +don't, they won't have a team. They understand that--or they will when +you tell them. There's another thing, though, Joe, that we've got to +have besides money, and that's material. We've _got_ to get more fellows +out." + +"I know. I'll tell them that, too. I'm going to put a notice up in +School Hall in the morning. Mr. Cummins says there are eight new fellows +entering the middle classes this year. Maybe some of them are +football-players." + +"Bound to be. Did you see the twins?" + +"No, but Billy Emerson was telling me about them. What do they look +like?" + +"Not bad. Rather light-weight, though, and sort of slow. They're from +Arizona or somewhere out that way, I think. You can't tell them apart, +Joe." + +"Think they're football stuff?" + +"Search me. Might be. They're light, though. Here comes Kewpie. Gosh, +he's fatter than ever! Hi, Kewpie! Come over here!" + +It was Proudtree who answered the hail, descended the steps, and +approached. "Hello, Joe! Hello, Frank! Well, here we are again, eh? +Great to be back, isn't it? Have a good summer, Joe?" + +"Fine! You?" + +"Corking! I was on Dad's yacht all through August. Saw the races and +everything. Bully eats, too. You understand." + +"Yes," Joe Stevenson replied, "and I understand why you're about twenty +pounds overweight, Kewpie! You ought to be kicked around the yard, you +fat loafer. Thought you wanted to play center this fall." + +"I'm going to! Listen, Joe, I'm only fourteen pounds over and I'll drop +that in no time. Honest, I will. You see! Besides, it isn't all fat, +either. A lot of it's good, hard muscle." + +"Yes, it is! I can see you getting muscle lying around on your father's +yacht! I'm off you, Kewpie. You haven't acted square. You knew mighty +well that you were supposed to keep yourself fit this summer, and now +look at you! You're a big fat lump!" + +"Aw, say, Joe! Listen, will you?" Proudtree's gaze wandered in search of +inspiration and fell on the twins. His face lighted. "Hello, you chaps!" +he said. Then he leaned over and spoke to Joe. "Say, have you met the +Turner brothers, Joe? One of 'em's a swell player. Played out in North +Dakota or somewhere." + +"Which one?" asked Joe, surreptitiously eying the twins. "Why, the--I +forget: they look so much alike, you know. I think it's the one this +way. Or maybe it's the other. Anyway, I'll fetch them over, eh?" + +"All right, Kewpie." + +Kewpie started away, paused, and spoke again. "They're--they're awfully +modest chaps, Joe. You'd think from hearing them talk that they didn't +know much about the game, but don't you be fooled. That's just their +way. You understand." + +"Oh, sure, Kewpie!" And when the latter had gone on his errand Joe +smiled and, lowering his voice, said to Frank Brattle: "Kewpie's trying +to put something over. I wonder what." + +"Proudtree tells me one of you fellows plays football," said Joe, a +minute later, when introductions had been performed and Ned and Laurie +had seated themselves. "We need good players this fall. Of course, I +hope you'll both come out." + +"Ned's the football chap," said Laurie. "Baseball's my line." + +"I don't know--" began Ned, but Laurie pinched him warningly, and he +gulped and, to Kewpie's evident relief, made a fresh start. "I'm not +much of a player," he said modestly, "but I'm willing to have a try at +it." + +Kewpie darted an "I-told-you-so" glance at Joe and Frank. + +"Where do you come from, Turner?" Joe asked politely. + +"Santa Lucia, California. I was in the high school there two years. +Everything's quite--quite different here." Ned spoke hurriedly, as +though anxious to switch the conversation from football, and Laurie +smiled in wicked enjoyment. "The climate's different, you know," Ned +went on desperately, "and the country and--and everything." + +"I suppose so," said Frank Brattle. "What's your position, Turner?" + +"Position?" + +"Yes; I mean, where did you play? Behind the line, I suppose, or maybe +end." + +"Oh, yes, yes, behind the line. You see, I--I--" + +"There aren't many fellows can play half-back the way Ned can," said +Laurie, gravely. "He won't tell you so, but if you ever meet any one who +saw him play against Weedon School last year--" + +"Shut up!" begged Ned, almost tearfully. + +Kewpie was grinning delightedly. Joe Stevenson viewed Ned with absolute +affection. "Half-back, eh? Well, we can use another good half, Turner, +and I hope you're the fellow. I don't know whether Kewpie told you that +I'm captain this year, but I am, and I'm going to try mighty hard to +captain a winning team. You look a bit light, but I dare say you're +fast, and, for my part, I like them that way. Besides, we've got Mason +and Boessel if we want the heavy sort. Practice starts to-morrow at +four, by the way. How about your brother? Glad to have him come out, +too. Even if he hasn't played, he might learn the trick. And there's +next year to think of, you know." + +"I think not, thanks," answered Laurie. "One football star is enough in +the family." + +"Well, if you change your mind, come on and have a try. Glad to have met +you. See you to-morrow--er--Turner. I want to find Dave, Frank. Coming +along?" + +The two older boys made off toward West Hall, and as soon as they were +out of hearing Ned turned indignantly on Laurie. + +"You're a nice one!" he hissed. "Look at the hole you've got me in! +'Half-back'! 'Played against Weedon School'! What did you want to talk +that way for? Why, those fellows think I know football!" + +"Cheer up," answered his brother, grinning. "All you've got to do is +bluff it through. Besides, Proudtree asked us not to let on we didn't +know a football from a doughnut, and I had to say something! You acted +as if you were tongue-tied!" + +"Yes; that's so--you started it!" Ned turned belligerently around. "Said +it would be a favor to you--" He stopped, discovering that Proudtree had +silently disappeared and that he was wasting his protests on the empty +air. "Huh!" he resumed after a moment of surprise, "it's a good thing he +did beat it! Look here, Laurie, I'm in a beast of a mess. Yow know I +can't face that captain chap to-morrow. Suppose he handed me a football +and told me to kick it!" + +"He won't. I've watched football practice back home. You'll stand around +in a circle--" + +"How the dickens can I stand in a circle?" objected Ned. + +"And pass a football for a while. Then you'll try starting, and maybe +fall on the ball a few times, until you're nice and lame, and after that +you'll run around the track half a dozen times--" + +"Oh, shut up! You make me sick! I won't do it. I'm through. I'd look +fine, wouldn't I? I guess not, partner!" + +"You've got to, Ned," replied Laurie calmly. "You can't back down now. +The honor of the Turners is at stake! Come on up and I'll read that +rules book to you. Maybe some of it'll seep in!" + +After a moment of indecision Ned arose and followed silently. + + + + +CHAPTER V--IN THE PERFORMANCE OF DUTY + + +School began in earnest the next morning. Ned and Laurie were awakened +from a deep slumber by the imperative clanging of a gong. There were +hurried trips to the bath-room, and finally a descent to the +recreation-room and morning prayers. Breakfast followed in the pleasant, +sunlit dining-hall, and at half-past eight the twins went to their first +class. There wasn't much real work performed that morning, however. +Books were bought and, being again in possession of funds, Ned purchased +lavishly of stationery and supplies. He had a veritable passion for +patent binders, scratch-pads, blank-books, and pencils, and Laurie +viewed the result of a half-hour's mad career with unconcealed concern. + +"You're all wrong, Ned," he said earnestly. "We aren't opening a +stationery emporium. Besides, we can't begin to compete with the office. +They buy at wholesale, and--" + +"Never mind the comedy. You'll be helping yourself to these things soon +enough, and then you won't be so funny." + +"That's the only way they'll ever get used up! Why, you've got enough +truck there to last three years!" + +There was one interesting annual observance that morning that the twins +witnessed inadvertently. At a little after eight the fellows began to +assemble in front of School Hall. Ned and Laurie, joining the throng, +supposed that it was merely awaiting the half-hour, until presently +there appeared at the gate a solitary youth of some fourteen years, who +came up the circling drive about as joyfully as a French Royalist +approaching the guillotine. Deep silence prevailed until the embarrassed +and unhappy youth had conquered half of the interminable distance. Then +a loud "_Hep!_" was heard, and the throng broke into a measured refrain: + +"_Hep!--Hep!--Hep!--Hep!_" + +This was in time to the boy's dogged steps. A look of consternation came +into his face and he faltered. Then, however, he set his jaw, looked +straight ahead, and came on determinedly. + +"_Hep!--Hep!_" + +Up the steps he passed, a disk of color in each cheek, looking neither +to right nor left, and passed from sight. As he did so, the chorus +changed to a good-humored laugh of approval. Ned made inquiry of a youth +beside him. + +"Day boy," was the explanation. "There are ten of them, you know: +fellows who live in town. We always give them a welcome. That chap had +spunk, but you wait and see some of them!" + +Two more followed together, and, each upheld in that moment of trial by +the presence of the other, passed through the ordeal with flying colors. +But the twins noted that the laughing applause was lacking. After that, +the remaining seven arrived almost on each other's heels and the air was +filled with "_Heps!_" Some looked only surprised, others angry; but most +of then grinned in a sickly, embarrassed way and went by with hanging +heads. + +"Sort of tough," was Ned's verdict, and Laurie agreed as they followed +the last victim inside. + +"It looks as if day students weren't popular," he added. + +Later, though, he found that he was wrong. The boys who lived in the +village were accepted without reservation, but, naturally enough, seldom +attained to a full degree of intimacy with those who lived in the +dormitories. + +By afternoon the twins had become well shaken down into the new life, +had made several superficial acquaintances, and had begun to feel at +home. Of Kewpie Proudtree they had caught but fleeting glimpses, for +that youth displayed a tendency to keep at a distance. As the hour of +four o'clock approached, Ned became more and more worried, and his +normally sunny countenance took on an expression of deep gloom. Laurie +kept close at his side, fearing that courage would fail and Ned would +bring disgrace to the tribe of Turner. But Laurie ought to have known +better, for Ned was never what his fellows would have called a +"quitter." Ned meant to see it through. His mind had retained very +little of the football lore that his brother had poured into it the +night before, but he had, at least, a somewhat clearer idea of the +general principles of the game. He knew, for instance, that a team +comprised eleven players instead of the twelve he had supposed, and that +certain restrictions governed the methods by which you might wrest the +ball from an opponent. Thus, you could not legally snatch it out of his +arms, nor trip him up in the hope that he would drop it. Ned thought the +restrictions rather silly, but accepted them. + +The athletic field, known in school parlance as the play-field, was even +larger than it had looked from their windows. It held two gridirons and +three baseball diamonds, as well as a quarter-mile track and ten +tennis-courts. There was also a picturesque and well-appointed +field-house and a fairly large grand stand. To Ned's relief, most of the +ninety students were in attendance, though only about forty of the +number were in playing togs. Ned's idea was that among so many he might +escape close observation. + +He had, of course, handled a football more or less, and he was possessed +of his full share of common sense. Besides, he had perhaps rather more +than his share of assurance. To his own surprise, if not to Laurie's, he +got through the hour and a half of practice very creditably. Seasoned +candidates and novices were on the same plane to-day. There was, first +of all, a talk by the coach. Mr. Mulford was a short, broad, +good-humored man of about thirty, with a round and florid countenance, +which possibly accounted for the nickname of "Pinky" that the school had +affectionately awarded him. His real name was Stephen, and he had played +guard, and played it well, for several years with Trinity College. This +was his fourth season as football coach at Hillman's and his third as +baseball coach. So far he had been fairly successful in both sports. + +His talk was brief and earnest, although he smiled through it all. He +wanted lots of material, but he didn't want any fellow to report for +practice who didn't mean to do his level best and stick it out. Those +who were afraid of either hard work or hard knocks had better save their +time and his. Those who did report would get a fair trial and no favor. +He meant to see the best team this fall that Hillman's School had ever +turned out, one that would start with a rush and finish with a bang, +like a rocket! + +"And," he went on, "I want this team made up the way a rocket is. A +rocket is filled with stars, fellows, but you don't realize it until the +final burst. So we're going to put the soft pedal on individual +brilliancy this year. It almost had us licked last fall, as you'll +remember. This year we're going to try hard for a well-rounded team of +hard workers, fellows who will interlock and gear together. It's the +machine that wins, the machine of eleven parts that work all together in +oil. We're going to find the eleven parts first, and after that we're +going to do the oiling. All right now! Ten men to a squad. Get balls and +pass in circles. Learn to hold the ball when you catch it. Glue right to +it. And when you pass, put it where you want it to go. Don't think that +the work is silly and unnecessary, because it isn't. A fellow who can't +hold a ball when it comes to him is of no use on this team. So keep your +minds right on the job and your eyes right on the ball. All right, +Captain Stevenson." + +At least, Ned could, to quote Laurie, "stand in a circle" and pass a +football, and he did, and did it better than several others in his +squad. In the same way, he could go after a trickling pigskin and catch +it up without falling over himself, though it is possible that his +"form" was less graceful than that of one or two of his fellows. When, +later, they were formed in a line and started off by the snapping of the +ball in the hands of a world-wearied youth in a faded blue sweater +bearing a white H on its breast, Ned didn't show up so well, for he was +almost invariably one of the last to plunge forward. The blue-sweatered +youth called his attention to the fact finally in a few well-chosen +words. + +"You guy in the brown bloomers!" he bellowed. (Of course they weren't +bloomers, but a pair of somewhat expansive golf breeches that Ned, +lacking proper attire, had donned, not without misgivings, on Laurie's +advice.) "Are you asleep? Put some life into it! Watch this ball, and +when you see it roll, jump! You don't look like a cripple, but you +surely act like one!" + +Toward the end a half-dozen last-year fellows took to punting, but, to +Ned's relief, no one suggested that he take a hand at it, and at +half-past five or thereabouts his trials came to an end. He went out of +his way, dodging behind a group on the side-line, to escape Joe +Stevenson, but ran plump into Frank Brattle instead. + +"Hello, Turner," Frank greeted. "How did it go?" + +"All right," replied Ned, with elaborate carelessness. "Fine." + +"Rather a nuisance having to go through the kindergarten stunts, isn't +it?" continued the other, sympathetically. "Mulford's a great hand at +what he calls the fundamentals, though. I dare say he's right, too. It's +funny how easy it is to get out of the hang of things during the summer. +I'm as stiff as a broom!" + +"So am I," answered Ned, earnestly and truthfully. Frank smiled, nodded, +and wandered on, and Ned, sighting Laurie hunched up in the grand stand, +joined him. "It's a bully game, football," he sighed, as he lowered +himself cautiously to a seat and listened to hear his muscles creak. +"Full of beneficial effects and all that." Laurie grinned in silence. +Ned felt experimentally of his back, frowned, rocked himself backward +and forward twice, and looked relieved. "I guess there's nothing +actually broken," he murmured, "I dare say it'll be all right soon." + +"They say the first two months are the hardest," responded Laurie, +comfortingly. "After that there's no sensation." + +Ned nodded. "I believe it," he said feelingly. He fixed his gaze on the +farther goal-post and after a minute of silence remarked: + +"I'd like to catch the man who invented football!" + +He turned a challenging look on his brother. Laurie blinked and for +several seconds his lips moved noiselessly and there was a haunted look +in his gray eyes. Then, triumphantly, he completed the couplet: "It may +suit some, but it doesn't suit all!" + +"Rotten!" said Ned. + +"I'd like to see you do any better," answered Laurie, aggrievedly. +"There isn't any proper rhyme for 'football,' anyway." + +"Nor any reason for it, either. Of all--" + +"Hi, you fellow!" interrupted a scandalized voice. "What are you doing +up there? Have you done your two laps?" + +The speaker was a lanky, red-haired man who bristled with authority and +outrage. + +"Two laps?" stammered Ned. "No, sir." + +"Get at it, then. And beat it in when you have. Want to catch cold, do +you? Sitting around without a blanket or anything like that!" The +trainer shot a final disgusted look at the offender and went on. + +"Gee," murmured Ned, "I thought I was done! Two laps, he said! I'll +never be able to, Laurie!" + +"Oh, yes, you will," was the cheerful response. "And while you're doing +them you can think up a better rhyme for 'football' than I did!" + +Ned looked back reproachfully as he limped to the ground and, having +gained the running-track, set off at a stiff-kneed jog. Laurie's +expression relented as he watched. + +"Sort of tough on the kid," he muttered sympathetically. Then his face +hardened again and he shook his head. "I've got to be stern with him, +though!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI--NED IS FIRM + + +Kewpie Proudtree obeyed the shouted invitation to enter Number 16 and +appeared with a countenance as innocent as that of an infant. "Hello, +fellows," he said cordially, dropping into a chair with indications of +exhaustion. "How do you like it as far as you've gone?" + +Ned shifted in his seat at the study-table, choking back a groan, and +fixed Kewpie with a baleful look. "Listen, Proudtree," he said sternly. +"I've got a bone to pick with you!" + +"With me?" Kewpie stared in amazement. "What have I done?" + +"You've got me into a fix, that's what you've done! Didn't you ask +me--us--last night not to let on to Stevenson that we--I--couldn't play +football? Didn't you say it would be a favor to you? Didn't you say it +would be all right and--and everything?" + +"Sure! What of it?" + +"Why, you crazy galoot, you must have told him that I knew all about the +game! And you knew mighty well I didn't! Stevenson thinks I'm a wonder, +and I don't know a touch-down from a--a forward kick!" + +"Pass, not kick," corrected Kewpie, patiently. "Look here, Turner-- Say, +are you Ned or Laurie? Blessed if I can tell!" + +"Ned," replied that youth, with much dignity. + +"Guess I'll have to call you Ned, then. Can't call you both Turner. You +understand. It was like this, Ned. You see, I want to stand in with Joe +Stevenson. It--it's for the good of the school. If they don't play me at +center this fall, who are they going to play? Well, Joe thought I--well, +he seemed to think I hadn't acted just right about keeping my weight +down. He--he was sort of peeved with me. So I wanted to smooth him down +a bit. You understand. That's why I told him what I did." + +"Well, what _did_ you tell him?" + +"Why, I sort of--well, it wasn't what I _said_ exactly; it was what he +thought I meant!" + +"Proudtree, you're telling a whopper," said Ned, sternly. "And you told +one to Stevenson, too, or I miss my guess." + +"I only said that you were a swell football-player." + +"For the love of lemons! What do you call that but a whopper?" + +Kewpie looked both ashamed and distressed. He swallowed hard and glanced +furtively at Laurie as though hoping for aid. But Laurie looked as +unsympathetic as Ned. Kewpie sighed dolefully. "I--I suppose it was," he +acknowledged. "I didn't think about that. I'm sorry, Ned, honest! I +didn't mean to tell what wasn't so. I just wanted to get Joe's mind off +his troubles. You understand." + +"Well, you got me in a mess," grumbled Ned. "I got by all right to-day, +I suppose, but what's going to happen to-morrow?" + +Kewpie evidently didn't know, for he stared morosely at the floor for a +long minute. Finally, "I'll go to Joe and fess up if--if you say so," he +gulped. + +"I think you ought to," responded Ned. + +"Where's the sense in that?" demanded Laurie. "What good would it do? +Proudtree did fib, but he didn't mean to. I mean he didn't do it for +harm. If he goes and tells Stevenson that he fibbed, Stevenson will have +it in for him harder than ever; and he will have it in for you, too, +Ned. Maybe he will think it was a scheme that you and Proudtree hatched +together. That's a punk idea, I say. Best thing to do is prove that +Proudtree didn't fib." + +"How?" asked Ned. + +"Why, Proudtree--" + +"There's an awful lot of that 'Proudtree' stuff," complained the +visitor. "Would you mind calling me Kewpie?" + +"All right. Well, Kewpie told Captain Stevenson that you are a swell +player. Go ahead and be one." + +"Huh, sounds easy the way you say it," scoffed Ned; "but how can I, when +I don't know anything about the silly game? I wish to goodness you'd +taken up football instead of me!" + +"You got through to-day all right, didn't you?" asked Laurie. "Well, +keep it up. Keep your eyes open and learn. You can do it. You're no +fool, even if you haven't my intellect. Besides, you're the best little +fakir that ever came over the range." + +"You can't fake kicking a football," said Ned, scathingly. + +"Look here!" exclaimed Kewpie, his round face illumined by a great idea. +"Tell you what, Ned! I'll show you how to kick!" + +The silence that greeted the offer might have offended a more sensitive +youth, but Kewpie went on with enthusiasm. "Of course, I'm no wonder at +it. I'm a little too short in the leg and, right now, I--I'm a bit +heavy; but I used to kick and I know how it ought to be done. Say we +have a half-hour or so at it every morning for a while?" + +"Wouldn't Stevenson know what was up?" asked Ned, dubiously. + +"He needn't know. We'll go over to the lot behind the grammar school. +Even if he saw us, he'd think we were having some fun." + +"He must have a strange idea of fun," sighed Ned. "Still, if you want to +take the trouble--" + +"Glad to! Besides, I owe you something for--for getting you in wrong. +And I can put you wise to a lot of little things about handling a ball. +We could do some passing, for instance. Wonder who's got a ball we could +borrow. I'll find one somewhere. You understand. Now, what hour have you +got free in the morning?" + +A comparison of schedules showed that on two mornings a week the boys +could meet at ten, and on two other mornings at ten-thirty. The +remaining days were not accommodating, however. + +"Well, even four times a week will show results," said Kewpie, +cheerfully. "This is Thursday. We'll have the first lesson Saturday at +ten." + +"I hope they don't ask me to do any kicking before then," said Ned. + +"Not likely. You'll get about the same stuff to-morrow as you had +to-day. You'll get by, take my word for it. That's settled, then." +Kewpie referred to an ornate gold wrist-watch. "It's after eight. You're +going over to Johnny's, aren't you!" + +"Johnny's?" repeated Laurie. "Oh, Doctor Hillman's! I suppose so. What's +it like?" + +"Oh, it isn't bad. The eats are pretty fair. Anyway, he sort of likes +the fellows to go, and he's a good sort. You'll be introduced to the +faculty and their wives, if they have any, and meet a lot of fellows +whose names you'll forget the next minute. Take my advice and sort of +work in toward the dining-room. Last year, the harlequin ice-cream gave +out before I could get to the table." Kewpie sighed. "Tabby has bully +cake, too, and I'm off of cake. Isn't that rotten luck?" + +"Awful!" laughed Ned. "You going over now?" + +"Yes. Come on and I'll introduce you to some of the fellows you ought to +know. I'll wash my dirty paws and meet you in two minutes." + +The principal's reception proved rather enjoyable. The "eats" were +excellent and, under Kewpie's guidance, the twins reached the long table +in the dining-room well in advance of the crowd. As Laurie remarked +afterward, it was worth the amount of trouble involved just to watch +Kewpie's mouth water as he gazed soulfully at the chocolate layer-cake. +To his credit be it narrated that he manfully resisted it. Besides +consuming much delectable food, the twins were impressively introduced +by their guide to a number of their fellow-students, the introduction +being prefaced in each case by a sort of biographical note, as: "There's +Dan Whipple. The tall fellow with the trick collar, talking to Mrs. +Wells. Rows stroke on the crew. Senior class president. Honor man last +year. President of Attic, too. Good chap to know. Come on." In such +manner they met at least a half-dozen school notables, most of whom were +extremely affable to the new boys. Sometimes, to be sure, the twins had +a suspicion that Kewpie was pretending a closer intimacy with a notable +than in fact existed, but he always "got away with it." + +The only fly in the ointment of the evening's enjoyment occurred when +Kewpie mischievously introduced them to Mrs. Pennington, the wife of the +Greek and Latin instructor, and sneaked away. Mrs. Pennington was tall +and extremely thin, and viewed the world through a pair of +tortoise-shell spectacles. She had a high voice and what Ned termed a +"very Lake Superior" manner, and, since she confined her conversation to +the benefits to be derived from an earnest study of the Latin poets, +philosophers, and historians, the twins were not happy. Fortunately, +very little was demanded from them conversationally, Mrs. Pennington +being quite competent to do all the talking. But, unfortunately, she +gave them no chance to get away. Ned descried Kewpie grinning +heartlessly from the doorway and rewarded him with a terrific and +threatening scowl. Kewpie, however, waved blandly and faded into the +night. Release came to them at last and they scurried away, neglecting, +in their hurried departure, to say good night either to the doctor or +Miss Tabitha, a breach of etiquette which probably passed unnoted by the +hosts. Back in East Hall, the twins hammered loudly at Number 15, but +Kewpie was either absent or discreet. At any rate, there was no +response, and revenge had to be postponed. + +To Laurie's surprise, a notice on the bulletin-board in the corridor of +School Hall the following morning announced that autumn baseball +practice would begin that afternoon. He had supposed that his hour to +offer himself on the altar of school patriotism would not arrive until +the next spring; and later, when he strode down Walnut Street with Ned, +in search of football togs for the latter, he broached the subject +diplomatically. + +"Funny idea to have baseball practice this time of year, I think," he +remarked carelessly. "Not much good in it. A fellow would forget +anything he learned by next April." + +"Didn't know they did," replied Ned, uninterestedly. "Who told you +that?" + +"Oh, there was a notice on the board in School Hall. Don't believe many +fellows go out in the fall." + +"Thought baseball was a spring and summer game. Still, I dare say you +can play it just as well now. Seems to me I've heard of having spring +football practice, haven't you?" + +"I dare say. Crazy scheme, though, playing games out of season." + +"Ye-es." Ned went on thoughtfully a moment Then he shot a suspicious +glance at his brother. "You going out?" he demanded. + +"N-no, I don't think so," answered Laurie, lightly. "There's that +building we had the bet on the other day. We never did find out--" + +"Never you mind about that building," interrupted Ned, severely. "I'm on +to you, partner. You're trying to renege on baseball. Well, it doesn't +go! You're a baseball hero and you've got to get busy!" + +"Aw, Ned, have a heart! There's plenty of time--" + +"No, sir, by jiminy! You got me slaving for the dear old school, now you +do your bit!" + +"Yes, but it isn't fair to start the baseball season in September. You +know it isn't." + +"Cut out the alibis! You can get some baseball togs right now. Good +thing you spoke of it. What'll you need?" + +"All I need is kindness," wailed Laurie. "Ned, I don't want to be a +hero! I don't want to save the dear old school from defeat in the ninth +inning! I--I--" + +"You're going to do as you agreed to," answered Ned, grimly. "Remember +that the honor of the Turners is at stake!" + +Laurie sighed deeply. Then, "You speak of honor! Say no more. I yield," +he declaimed dramatically. + +"You bet you do," answered Ned, unhesitatingly. "You for the baseball +field!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII--HIGH SCHOOL ACCEPTS DEFEAT + + +A week passed, and the twins began to feel like old residents. They had +ceased being "the Turner twins" to acquaintances, although others still +referred to them so, and their novelty had so far worn off that they +could enter a classroom or walk side by side across the yard without +being conscious of the rapt, almost incredulous stares of the beholders. +To merely casual acquaintances they were known as Ned and Laurie; to a +few friends they had become Nid and Nod. Kewpie was responsible for +that. He had corrupted "Ned" into "Nid," after which it was impossible +for Laurie to be anything but "Nod." Laurie had demurred for a time, +demanding to be informed who Nod had been. Kewpie couldn't tell him, +being of the hazy belief that Nid and Nod were brothers in some fairy +story he had once read, but he earnestly assured Laurie that both had +been most upright and wholly estimable persons. Anyhow, Laurie's +objections wouldn't have accomplished much, for others had been prompt +to adopt the nicknames and all the protests in the world wouldn't have +caused them to drop them. These others weren't many in number, however: +Kewpie and Thurman Kendrick and Lee Murdock and George Watson about made +up the list of them at this time. + +Kendrick was Kewpie's room-mate, a smallish, black-haired, very earnest +youth of sixteen, which age was also Kewpie's. Thurman was familiarly +known as "Hop," although the twins never learned why. He was a candidate +for quarter-back on the eleven and took his task very seriously. Lee +Murdock was one of the baseball crowd, and Laurie had scraped +acquaintance with him on the diamond during a practice game. The word +"scraped" is used advisedly, for Laurie, in sliding to second base, had +spiked much of the skin from Lee's ankle. Of such incidents are +friendships formed! Lee was two years older than Laurie, a big, rather +raw-boned fellow with a mop of ash-colored hair and very bright blue +eyes. + +George Watson was sixteen, an upper middler, and, as Laurie frequently +assured him, no fit associate for a respectable fellow. To the latter +assertion George cheerfully agreed, adding that he always avoided such. +He came from Wyoming and had brought with him a breeziness of manner +that his acquaintances, rightly or wrongly, described as "wild and +woolly." Of the four, Kewpie and George were more often found in company +with the twins. + +There had been four lessons in kicking on an open lot behind the grammar +school, two short blocks away, and while Ned had not yet mastered the +gentle art of hurtling a football through the air, Kewpie was +enthusiastic about his pupil's progress. "Why, geewhillikins, Nid," he +broke forth after the fourth session, "you're a born kicker! Honest you +are! You've got a corking swing and a lot of drive. You--you've got real +_form_, that's what you've got. You understand. And you certainly do +learn! Of course, you haven't got it all from me, because you've been +punting in practice two or three times, but I take some of the credit." + +"You've got a right to," responded Ned. "You've taught me a lot more +than I've learned on the field. Gee, if it hadn't been for you I'd been +afraid even to try a punt over there! You ought to see the puzzled way +that Pope looks at me sometimes. He can't seem to make me out, because, +I suppose, Joe Stevenson told him I was a crackajack. Yesterday he said, +'You get good distance, Turner, and your direction isn't bad, but you +never punt twice the same way!'" + +"Well, you don't," laughed Kewpie. "But you'll get over that just as +soon as I can get it into your thick head that the right way's the best +and there's only one right!" + +"I know," said Ned, humbly. "I mean to do the way you say, but I sort of +forget." + +"That's because you try to think of too many things at once. Stop +thinking about your leg and just remember the ball and keep your eyes on +it until it's in the air. That's the secret, Nid. I heard Joe telling +Pinky the other day that you'd ought to shape up well for next year." + +"Next year!" exclaimed Ned, dubiously. "Gee! mean to tell me I'm going +through all this work for next year?" + +"Well, you might get a place this year, for all you know," replied +Kewpie, soothingly. "Just keep on coming, Nid. If you could only--well, +if you had just a bit more _speed_ now, got started quicker, you know, +Pinky would have you on the second squad in no time, I believe. You're +all right after you get started, but--you understand." + +"I do the best I know how," sighed Ned. "I suppose I am slow on the +get-away, though. Corson is always calling me down about it. Oh, well, +what do I care? I don't own it." + +"I'd like to see you make good, though," said Kewpie. "Besides, remember +the honor of the Turners!" + +Ned laughed. "Laurie will look after that. He's doing great things in +baseball, if you believe him, and it wouldn't be right for us to capture +all the athletic honors." + +"You make me weary!" grunted Kewpie. "Say, don't you California chaps +ever have any pep?" + +"California, old scout, is famous for its pep. We grow it for market out +there. Why, I've seen a hundred acres planted to it!" + +"You have, eh? Well, it's a big shame you didn't bring a sprig of it +East with you, you lazy lummox! Some day I'm going to drop a cockle-burr +down your back and see if you don't show some action!" + +Hillman's started her season on the following Saturday with Orstead High +School. As neither team had seen much practice, the contest didn't show +a very high grade of football. The teams played four ten-minute +quarters, consuming a good two hours of elapsed time in doing it, their +members spending many precious moments prone on the turf. The weather +was miserably warm for football and the players were still pretty soft. + +Kewpie derived great satisfaction from the subsequent discovery that he +had dropped three quarter pounds and was within a mere seven pounds of +his desired weight. Had he played the game through instead of yielding +the center position to Holmes at the beginning of the last half, he +might have reached his goal that afternoon. Ned and Laurie wounded him +deeply by declaring that there was no apparent improvement in his +appearance. + +Ned saw the game from the substitutes' bench, and Laurie from the stand. +High School turned out a full attendance and, since Hillman's was +outnumbered two to one, "O. H. S." colors and cheers predominated. +Laurie sat with Lee Murdock, who, as a baseball enthusiast, professed a +great scorn of football. (There was no practice on the diamond that +afternoon.) Lee amused himself by making ridiculous comments in a voice +audible for many yards around. + +"That's piffle!" he declared on one occasion, when the ground was strewn +with tired, panting players. "The umpire said, 'Third down,' but if they +aren't three quarters down, I'll treat the crowd! The trouble with those +fellows is that they didn't get enough sleep last night. Any one can see +that. Why, I can hear that big chap snoring 'way over here!" Again, +"That brother of yours is playing better than any of them," he asserted. + +"Ned? Why, he isn't in! He's on the bench down there." + +"Sure! That's what I mean. You don't see him grabbing the ball away from +Brattle and losing two or three yards at a time. No, sir; he just sits +right there, half asleep, and makes High School _work_ for the game. +Every time he doesn't take the ball, Nod, he saves us three or four +yards. He's a hero, that's what he is. If Mulford would get all the rest +of them back on the bench, we might win." + +"You're crazy," laughed Laurie. + +During the intermission, Laurie's wandering gaze fell on two girls a +dozen seats away. One, whom he had never seen before, displayed a +cherry-and-black pennant and belonged unmistakably to the high school +cohort. She was a rather jolly-looking girl, Laurie decided, with a good +deal of straw-colored hair and a pink-and-white skin. Her companion was +evidently divided as to allegiance, for she had a cherry-and-black +ribbon pinned on the front of her dress and wore a dark-blue silken +arm-band. For a moment Laurie wondered why she looked familiar to him. +Then he recognized her as Polly Deane. The two girls appeared to be +alone, although some boys in the row behind were talking to them. + +So far, the twins had not been back to the little shop on Pine Street, +but Laurie resolved now that he would drop around there very soon and +pay his bill before his money was gone. After paying the school bill for +the first half-year, he and Ned had shared slightly more than twenty +dollars, but since then there had been many expenses. They had each had +to purchase playing togs and stationery, and, finally, had donated two +dollars apiece to the football fund at the mass-meeting Friday night of +the week before. + +Viewed from a financial standpoint, that meeting hadn't been a great +success, and it was no secret that, unless more money was forthcoming, +the team would be obliged to cancel at least one of its away-from-home +games. But it had resulted in bringing out a big field of candidates, +and there had been a lot of enthusiasm. The next day, viewing his +reduced exchequer, Laurie had ruefully observed that he guessed a dollar +would have been enough to give, but Ned had called him a "piker" and a +"tight-wad" and other scornful things. Yesterday Ned had borrowed half a +dollar, which was more than a fourth of Laurie's remaining cash; and the +first of October was still a week distant. Realizing the latter fact, +Laurie changed his mind about settling his account at the Widow Deane's. +But, he reflected, with another friendly glance in Polly's direction, it +wouldn't be right to withhold his trade from the store. And he wasn't +anywhere near the limit of indebtedness yet! + +Two listless periods followed the intermission, the only inspiring +incident coming when, near the end of the third quarter, Pope, Hillman's +full-back, foiled in his attempt to get a forward pass away, smashed +past the enemy and around his left end for a run that placed the pigskin +six yards short of the last white line. From there the home team managed +to push its way to a touch-down, the third and last score of the day. +The final figures were 10 to 7 in Hillman's favor, and neither side was +very proud of the outcome. + +Ned returned to Number 16 half an hour later in a most critical frame of +mind, and spent ten minutes explaining to Laurie just when and how the +school team had failed. At last Laurie interrupted him to ask, "Have you +told this to Mr. Mulford, Ned?" + +"Mr. Mulford? Why--oh, go to the dickens!" + +"Seems to me he ought to know," said Laurie, gravely. + +"That's all right. You can be sarcastic if you like, but I'm talking +horse-sense. You see a lot of things from the bench that you don't see +from the stand. Besides, you've got to know football to understand it. +Now you take--" + +"I beg your pardon! Did you say anything about understanding football?" + +"Well, I understand a lot more about it than you do," replied the other, +warmly. "I've been playing it a week, haven't I?" + +"Sure, but I'll bet you don't know how much a safety counts!" + +"I don't need to. That's up to the referee. But I know some football, +just the same. And I punted forty-seven yards yesterday, too!" + +"In how many punts?" inquired Laurie, innocently. + +Ned threw a book at him and the subject was closed. + +In his own line, baseball, Laurie was not setting the world on fire. He +was gaining a familiarity with the position of center fielder on the +scrub nine, and batting practice was at least not doing him any harm. +But he certainly had displayed no remarkable ability; and if Ned had +gained a notion to the contrary, it was merely because it pleased Laurie +to fool him with accounts of imaginary incidents in which he, Laurie, +had shone most brilliantly. As Ned knew even less about baseball than he +had known of football, almost any fairy-tale "went" with him, and Laurie +derived much amusement thereby; decidedly more, in fact, than he derived +from playing! + +On Monday morning Laurie dragged Ned over to the Widow Deane's for +ginger-ale, professing a painful thirst. The Widow greeted them +pleasantly, recalling their names, and provided them with the requested +beverage. Laurie's thirst seemed to have passed, for he had difficulty +in consuming his portion. When, presently, he asked politely about +Polly, it developed that that young lady was quite well enough to attend +high school as usual. Laurie said, "Oh!" and silently promised himself +that the next time he got thirsty it would be in the afternoon. Ned ate +two doughnuts and was hesitating over raspberry tarts when Laurie +dragged him away. "Can't you think of anything but eating?" demanded the +latter, disgustedly. Ned only blinked. + +"Ginger-ale always makes me hungry," he explained calmly. + +Two days later, the twins awoke to cloudy skies, and by mid-forenoon a +lazy drizzle was falling, which later turned to a downright tempest of +wind and rain. At four the baseball candidates scooted to the +field-house for cover, although, peering forth through a drenched +window, Laurie discerned the football-players still at work. Lee Murdock +said he guessed the equinoctial storm had come, and that if it had +there'd be no practice for a couple of days. Laurie tried to look +broken-hearted and failed dismally. Taking advantage of a lull in the +downpour, he and Lee, with many of the others, set forth for school. +They were still far short of the gymnasium, however, when the torrent +began again, and it was a wet, bedraggled, and breathless crowd that +presently pushed through the door. + +George Watson, who had been playing tennis before the rain started, was +philosophically regarding a pair of "unshrinkable" flannel trousers +which, so he declared, had already receded an inch at the bottoms. It +was George who suggested that, after changing to dry clothing, they go +over to the Widow's and have ice-cream at his expense. Not possessing a +rain-coat of his own, Laurie invaded Number 15 and borrowed Kewpie's. It +was many sizes too large, but it answered. The Widow's was full when he +and George and Lee got there, and the pastry counter looked as though it +had been visited by an invading army. There was still ice-cream, though, +and the three squeezed into a corner and became absorbedly silent for a +space. + +Polly was helping her mother, and Laurie exchanged greetings with her, +but she was far too busy for conversation. Lee treated to a second round +of ice-cream, and afterward Laurie bought a bag of old-fashioned +chocolates. He hoped Polly would wait on him, but it was Polly's mother +who did so and asked after his brother as she filled the paper sack. + +"I do hope you're looking after him and that he hasn't eaten those +raspberry tarts yet," she said pleasantly. + +"Yes'm," said Laurie. "I mean, he hasn't." He thought it surprising that +the Widow Deane was able to tell them apart. Even Kewpie and George +frequently made mistakes. + +It was still pouring when they went out again, and they hurried up the +street and around the corner into School Park, their progress somewhat +delayed by the fact that Laurie had placed the bag of candy in an +outside pocket of Kewpie's capacious rain-coat and that all three had +difficulty in finding it. Lee had just popped a big chocolate into his +mouth and George was fumbling into the moist bag when the clouds opened +suddenly and such a deluge fell as made them gasp. In distance they were +but a long block from school; but with the rain descending on them as +though poured from a million buckets, their thought was of immediate +shelter. + +"Wow!" yelped Lee. "Let's get out of this! Here's a house. Come on!" + +There was an opening in a high hedge, and a short brick walk from which +the drops were rebounding knee-high, and, seen dimly through the deluge, +a porch at the end of it. They reached it in what Laurie called three +leaps and a jump, and, under shelter of the roof, drew breath and looked +back into the gray welter. The park was invisible, and even the high +lilac hedge was only a blurred shape. Lee had to shout to make himself +heard above the rain. + +"Wonder who lives here," he said. "I don't remember this house." + +"Sure you do!" said George. "This is the Coventry house. We're on the +side porch." + +"Oh!" Lee gazed doubtfully into the rain. "Well, anyway, it'll do. Gee, +my trousers are soaked to the knees! How long do you suppose this will +keep up?" + +"You said for two days," answered Laurie, cheerfully, trying to dry his +neck with a moist handkerchief. + +"I mean this shower, you chump!" + +"Call this a shower? What's a cloud-burst like in this part of the +country, then?" + +"We don't have such things," answered George, who was peering through a +side-light into the dim interior. "Say, I thought this place was empty," +he continued. "I can see chairs and a table in there." + +"No; some one rented it this fall," said Lee. "I noticed the other day +that the front door was open and the grass had been cut. I wouldn't want +to live in the place, though." + +"Why?" inquired Laurie. + +But, before any answer came, the door was suddenly opened within a few +inches of George's nose and a voice said: + +"You fellows had better come inside until it's over." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII--IN THE MISER'S HOUSE + + +The invitation came from a boy of about sixteen, a slim, eminently +attractive chap, who smiled persuasively through the aperture. Laurie +knew that he had seen him somewhere, but it was not until they had +followed, somewhat protestingly, into a hallway and from there into a +large and shadowy drawing-room that he recognized him as one of the day +pupils. Lee, it seemed, knew him slightly and called him by name. + +"We oughtn't to come in here," Lee apologized. "We're soaking wet, +Starling." + +"It doesn't matter," answered their host. "Wait till I find a match and +we'll have a fire here." + +"Don't bother, please," George protested. "We're going right on in a +minute." + +"Might as well get dry a bit first. The fire's all laid." The boy held a +match at the grate and in a moment the wood was snapping merrily. "Pull +up some chairs, fellows. Here, try this. Some rain, isn't it?" + +"Rather," agreed Lee. "By the way, do you know Turner? And Watson?" The +three boys shook hands. "I didn't know you lived here," Lee continued. +"Saw the house had been taken, but didn't know who had it. Corking big +place, isn't it?" + +Starling laughed. "It's big all right, but it's not so corking. Let me +have that rain-coat, Turner. The rooms are so frightfully huge that you +get lost in them! I have the bedroom above this, and the first morning I +woke up in it I thought I was in the Sahara Desert! This was the only +place we could find, though, that was for rent, and we had to take it. +Dad came here on short notice and we didn't have much time to look +around. Pull up closer to the fire, Watson, and get your feet dry. I've +got some slippers upstairs if you want to take your shoes off." + +"No, thanks. I guess the wet didn't get through. I've seen you over at +school, haven't I?" + +"Yes, I'm a day boy; one of the 'Hep, heps!'" + +Lee grinned. "Sort of a mean trick, that, Starling, but they always do +it every year." + +"Wish I'd known about it beforehand. I'd have sneaked over a fence and +through a window. It was fierce! I was the last fellow to get in this +fall. Dad made application in August, and some fellow who had entered in +the spring changed his mind; otherwise I'd have had to go to the high +school." + +"That would have been an awful fate," said George, gravely. + +"Oh, I wouldn't have minded. I like Hillman's, though. Do any of you +chaps play tennis?" + +"I try to," answered George. + +"Wish you'd give me a game some day. Tennis is about the only thing I +know much about, and I saw some dandy courts over at the field." + +"Glad to," George assured him. "Any day you like, Starling. I'm not much +of a player, though, so don't expect a lot." + +"Guess you're good enough to handle me," laughed the other. "I like it +better than I can play it. How about to-morrow afternoon?" + +"Suits me," answered George. "Three-thirty?" + +"Fine! I'm going to get Dad to build a court in the yard here, if I can. +There's lots of room, but there's a tumble-down old grape-arbor right in +the middle." + +"Yes, there's surely room enough," agreed Lee. "We used to come over +here last fall and get pears--there's a dandy seckel tree back there. +I'd say there was room for two or three courts if some of the trees were +cut down." + +"What could he do with three of them?" asked Laurie. + +"I suppose we'd have to get the owner's permission to even take that +rickety old arbor down," Starling said. + +"I thought the owner was dead," Lee observed. + +George chuckled. "If he was dead he wouldn't be the owner, you simple! +Old Coventry died three or four years ago, but somebody owns the place, +of course. If what they tell of the old chap is true, it must have +broken his heart to know he couldn't take the place with him! Maybe he +took his money with him, though. Anyway, the story goes that he had +slathers of it, and they could only find a couple of thousands when he +died." + +"What was he, a miser?" asked Starling. + +"Yes, one of the sort you read about in the stories. Lived here all +alone for years and years with only a negro servant. They say you could +never see a light in the place at night, and he never went off the front +porch more than a couple of times a year. Then a carriage came for him +and he got in and went down to the boat. He didn't use the train because +it cost too much. Of course, when he died, folks expected to find that +he had left a mint of money; but all any one could discover was about +two thousand dollars in one of the banks here--that, and this property. +The heirs, whoever they were, pretty near tore the insides out of the +house, they say, looking for coin, but they didn't get any thing." + +"And at night the old codger's ghost walks around," added Lee; "and if +you follow him, he'll take you to the place the money's hidden." + +"Honest?" exclaimed Starling, joyfully. "Gosh, that's great! I always +wanted to live in a house with a ghost." + +"I'm sorry, then," said George, "for I just made that part up." + +"_You_ did?" Lee looked incredulous. "Where do you come in? I've heard +that ever since I came here." + +"No, sir; you may have heard the rest of the story, but not the part +about the ghost. I wrote the yarn up in my junior year for an English +comp., and tacked on the ghost feature as a sort of added climax. Got +good marks, too, and the Orstead paper published the thing. I'll show it +to you, if you like." + +Lee looked unconvinced still, and Starling disappointed. "Well, it's a +good story, anyway, and makes the place more interesting. Some day I'll +have a look myself for the hidden millions." + +"Guess the old chap never had that much," said George. "Thirty or forty +thousand is about what he was supposed to have salted away." + +"Scarcely worth bothering about," observed Laurie, with a yawn. + +"But look here, what became of the servant?" asked Starling. "Maybe he +got the dough and made off with it." + +"Lots of folks thought that," replied George; "but the theory didn't pan +out for a cent. The negro stuck around here for quite a while and then +ambled off somewhere. He claimed that old Coventry died owing him a +month's wages, and tried to get some one to pay him, but I guess he +never got any of it, if it was really owing." + +"Where did he go to?" asked Starling. + +"I don't know. New York City, I think." + +"I'll bet he either had the money or knew where it was," declared +Starling, with conviction. "Don't you see, fellows, he did just what any +one would do in his case? He stuck around so he wouldn't be suspected. +If he'd gone right off, folks would have said he was trying to avoid +being asked about the money. And then he faked up the yarn about the old +gentleman owing him wages. A first-class detective would have got trace +of the coin, I'll wager!" + +"You've been reading _Sherlock Holmes_," laughed Lee. "Why don't you +follow up your clue, find the negro, and restore the lost wealth to the +starving heirs?" + +"Huh! If he did get the money, he's where even _Sherlock Holmes_ +wouldn't find him by this time. Some one should have followed the fellow +and kept watch on him right then. How old was he, Watson?" + +"About fifty, I guess. They say he had white whiskers, anyway. Oh, he +didn't know any more than he said he did. He was all right. He had been +with old Coventry for years and years, one of those old-time family +servants, you know, honest and faithful. Why, he went on something +fierce when the old chap died!" + +"Say, how much of this guff is real and how much of it is English +composition?" asked Lee, suspiciously. "How do you know the negro took +on when the old codger died? You weren't here." + +"Maybe I heard it," replied George, grinning. + +"Yes, and maybe you just made it up, like the stuff about the ghost," +Lee retorted sarcastically. "I've heard the yarn two or three times, but +I never heard that the negro had white whiskers or that he went into +mourning!" + +"It's a fact, though," declared the other, warmly. "I prepared mighty +well on that comp.; talked with half a dozen persons who knew the story. +Got most of the stuff from the Widow Deane, though. Old Coventry had +been dead only about two years then and folks were still talking about +him. The Widow doesn't think the old chap had nearly as much money as he +was supposed to have." + +"She has the little store around on the back street?" asked Starling. + +"Yes. She took that as her share." + +"Her share of what?" demanded Lee. + +"Why, of the estate. Old Coventry owned the whole half-block right +through from Walnut Street to Pine. She rented that house from him until +he died; paid a good stiff price, too; and then, when the estate was +finally settled, she took it as her share, although she had to pay the +other heirs something because they claimed that it was worth more than +she had a right to." + +"Look here," said Lee, "do you mean that the Widow Deane was one of old +Coventry's heirs?" + +"Of course! Didn't you know it? She was a half-sister. She lived over in +New Jersey, she told me, until her husband died. Then she wrote to old +Coventry, asking him to help her because she didn't have much money, and +he invited her to come here. She thought he meant to give her a home +with him; but when she got here, the best he would do was rent her that +little house around on Pine Street and stock it up for her as a store. +Then he built a fence between the two places. It used to be open right +through." + +"Gee, you certainly know a lot of ancient history!" marveled Lee. + +"I believe in being thorough," laughed George. "When I tackle a subject +I get a fall out of it." + +"So when I trail the murderer--I mean the thief," reflected Starling, +"I'll be doing the old lady back there a good turn, won't I?" + +"Surest thing you know!" agreed George. + +"And she needs the money, I guess. I don't believe she makes a fortune +out of that emporium. And that daughter of hers is a nice kid, too." + +"How many other heirs are there to share in the money when Starling +finds it?" asked Laurie. + +"I don't know. Quite a bunch, I believe. The old chap wasn't married, +and the heirs are nephews and nieces and things like that. The Widow's +the only one living around here, though." + +"Well, when I do find it," laughed Starling, "I'll keep it quiet and +hand it all over to the Widow." + +"He wants to make a hit with Polly," said Lee. "He's a fox." + +"I've never seen her," Starling denied. + +"Well, she's a mighty pretty girl," George avowed. "If you don't believe +me, ask Nod." + +Laurie looked intensely innocent and very surprised. "Why me?" he asked +blandly. + +George shook his head, grinning. "You can't get away with it, son! Think +I didn't see you making love to the old lady this afternoon?" + +"Well," Laurie laughed, "I thought it was Polly you spoke of." + +"Sure, but she was busy waiting on a bunch of juniors and so you made up +to the Widow. We saw you smirking and talking sweet to her, didn't we, +Lee? Butter wouldn't have melted in the dear lamb's mouth. And I thought +the old lady seemed rather taken with him, too; didn't you, Lee?" + +"Rather! It was positively sickening! Talk about foxes--" + +"Oh, dry up and blow away!" muttered Laurie. "Say, the rain's stopped +now--pretty nearly." + +"Wants to get away from the embarrassing subject," George confided to +Starling. "Well, I never desert a pal, Nod. Come on, we'll trot along. +Much obliged for taking us in, Starling. Hope we haven't ruined your +rug. Half-past three to-morrow, if the courts are dry. I'll meet you in +School Hall." + +"Glad to have you drop around at my room some time," said Lee. "I'm in +West; Number 7." + +"Same here," added Laurie; "16 East Hall. Thanks, Starling." + +"You're welcome. Come in again, fellows. When I get that tennis-court +fixed up, we'll have some fun here. You needn't wait for that, though. +I'd like you to meet my father and aunt. No one's at home just now. I +say, better take a couple of umbrellas." + +"Not worth it, thanks," answered Lee. "After that deluge, this is just +an April shower. So long!" + +Lee's statement wasn't much of an exaggeration, and the three continued +their way to the school unhurriedly. George remarked gloomily that it +didn't look awfully promising for tennis on the morrow, adding: "I'll +bet that chap's a corking good player, too." + +"Maybe you'll learn a little about the game from him," said Laurie, +sweetly. "How old do you say he is?" + +"Starling? Oh, seventeen, maybe. He's in upper middle." + +"Sixteen, more likely," said George. "He seems a decent sort, eh? How +did you come to know him?" + +"I didn't really know him. He's in some of my classes and we've spoken a +couple of times. Rather a--an interesting kind of chap. Wonder what his +father does here. Funny place for him to come to. He spoke of an aunt, +but didn't say anything about a mother. Guess she's dead. Auntie +probably keeps house for them." + +As they entered the gate George chuckled and Laurie asked, "What's your +trouble, Old-Timer!" + +"I was just thinking what a joke it would be if Starling took that stuff +seriously about the hidden money and began to hack away the woodwork and +dig up the cellar floor!" + +"Why, wasn't it true?" + +"Sure! At least, as true as anything is that folks tell. You know, Nod, +after being repeated a couple of hundred times a story sort of grows." + +Lee grunted. "After some smart Aleck has written it up as an English +comp. its own mother wouldn't know it! The real joke would be for +Starling to wreck the woodwork and find the money!" + +"No, that wouldn't be a joke," said George, "that would be a movie! Come +on! It's starting again! Last man in East buys the sodas! Come on, Lee!" + +Lee and Laurie ran a dead heat, and all the way to George's room, on the +second floor, each sought to shift to the other the responsibility of +providing the soda-water for the trio. In the end, George appointed +himself referee and halved the responsibility between them. + +When, twenty minutes later, Laurie climbed onward to Number 16, he found +a very disgruntled Ned curled up in the window-seat, which was now +plentifully supplied with cushions. "Where've you been all the +afternoon?" he demanded aggrievedly. + +"Many places," replied Laurie, cheerfully. "Why the grouch?" + +"You'd have a grouch, I reckon, if you'd messed around with a soggy +football for almost two hours in a cloud-burst!" + +"Did you--er--get wet?" + +"Oh, no, I didn't get wet! I carried an umbrella all the time, you silly +toad! Or maybe you think they roofed the gridiron over for us?" + +"Well, I got sort of water-logged myself, and don't you let any one tell +you any different! Wait till I return this rain-coat and I'll tell you +about it." + +"I've got troubles enough of my own," grumbled Ned, as Laurie crossed +the corridor. + +Kewpie wasn't in when the borrowed garment was returned, but Hop +Kendrick was, and Hop said it was quite all right, that Ned was welcome +to anything of Kewpie's at any time, and please just stick it in the +closet or somewhere. And Laurie thanked him gratefully and placed the +rain-coat, which wasn't very wet now, where he had found it. And the +incident would have ended then and there if it hadn't started in to rain +cats and dogs again after supper and if Kewpie hadn't taken it into his +head to pay a visit to a fellow in West Hall. Which is introductory to +the fact that at eight o'clock that evening, while Ned and Laurie were +conscientiously absorbed in preparing to-morrow's Latin, a large and +irate youth appeared at the door of Number 16 with murder in his eyes +and what appeared to be gore on his hands! + +"That's a swell way to return a fellow's coat!" he accused. + +He brandished one gory hand dramatically, and with the other exhumed +from a pocket of the garment a moist and shapeless mass of brown paper +and chocolate creams. "Look at this!" he exhorted. "It--it's all over +me! The pocket's a regular glue-pot! Ugh!" + +Laurie looked and his shoulders heaved. + +"Oh, Kewpie!" he gurgled, contrition--or something--quite overmastering +him. "I'm s-s-so s-s-sorry!" + +Kewpie regarded him scathingly a moment, while syrupy globules detached +themselves from the exhibit and ran along his wrist. Finally he +exploded: "Sorry! Yes, you are!" + +Whereupon the door closed behind him with an indignant crash, and +Laurie, unable longer to contain his sorrow, dropped his head on his +books and gave way to it unrestrainedly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX--LAURIE HEARS NEWS + + +October arrived with the first touch of cooler weather, and the football +candidates, who had panted and perspired under summer conditions for a +fortnight, took heart. Among these was Ned. Laurie, who at first had had +to alternate sympathy and severity in order to keep his brother's +courage to the sticking-point, now found that his encouragement was no +longer needed. Ned was quite as much in earnest as any fellow who wore +canvas. Probably he was not destined ever to become a mighty player, for +he seemed to lack that quality which coaches, unable to describe, call +football instinct. But he had made progress--surprising progress when it +is considered that he had known virtually nothing of the game two weeks +before. + +Laurie, whose afternoons were still absorbed by baseball, viewed Ned's +efforts as something of a joke, much to the latter's chagrin, and +continued to do so until a chance conversation with Thurman Kendrick +opened his eyes. Hop had come across one forenoon to borrow some notes +and had tarried a moment to talk. In those days, when Hop talked he +talked of just one subject, and that subject was football, and he +introduced it to-day. + +"We've got to do better to-morrow than we did last week," he said +earnestly, "or we'll get licked hard. Cole's was fairly easy, but +Highland is a tough customer. Our trouble so far has been slowness, and +Highland's as fast as they make them. Somehow, Mulford doesn't seem able +to get any pep into our bunch. The line isn't so bad, but the back +field's like cold glue." + +"That's up to the quarter, isn't it?" asked Laurie, anxious to prove +himself not absolutely ignorant of the subject. + +"Yes, partly; but it's up to the coach first. If the backs aren't used +to working fast, the quarter can't make them. Frank Brattle's a good +quarter, Nod. I sort of wish he wasn't so good!" + +"Meaning you'd have a better chance of swiping his job?" smiled Laurie. + +"Oh, I'll never do that; but if he wasn't so good I'd get in more often. +The best I can hope for this year is to get in for maybe a full period +in the Farview game. Anyway, I'll get my letter, and maybe next year +I'll land in the position. Frank's a senior, you know." + +"Is he? I haven't seen much practice so far. Baseball keeps me pretty +busy." + +"How are you getting on?" + +"Slow, I'm afraid. Anyway, you could easily tell Babe Ruth and me +apart!" + +"I guess you're doing better than you let on," said Hop. "If you're as +good at baseball as your brother is at football, you'll do." + +"I guess I am," laughed Laurie; "just about!" + +"Well, Nid is surely coming fast," replied Hop, gravely. "He's been +doing some nice work the last few days." + +Laurie stared. "Say, what are you doing, Hop? Stringing me?" he +demanded. + +"Stringing you?" Hop looked puzzled. "Why, no. How do you mean?" + +"About Ned. Do you mean that he's really playing football?" + +"Why, of course I do. Didn't you know it?" + +Laurie shook his head. "He's been telling me a lot of stuff, but I +thought he was just talking, the way I've been, to sort of keep his +courage up." + +"Nonsense! Nid's doing mighty well. I don't know how much experience +he's had; some ways he acts sort of green; but he's got Mason worried, I +guess. If he had another fifteen pounds he'd make the team sure. As it +is, I wouldn't be surprised to see him play a whole lot this fall. You +see, he's a pretty good punter, Nod, and yesterday he blossomed out as a +drop-kicker, too. Landed the ball over from about the thirty yards and +from a hard angle. Mason doesn't do any kicking, and it's no bad thing +to have a fellow in the back field who can help Pope out in a pinch. +It's his kicking ability that'll get him on if anything does." + +"I see," said Laurie, thoughtfully. "Well, I'm mighty glad. To tell the +truth, Hop, Ned hasn't had an awful lot of experience. He's had to bluff +a good deal." + +"I suspected something of the sort from seeing him work the first week +or so. And then Kewpie said something that sort of lined up with the +idea. Well, he's working hard and he's making good. Much obliged for +these, Nod. I'll fetch them back in ten minutes." + +When Kendrick had taken his departure Laurie stared thoughtfully for a +minute into space. Finally he shook his head and smiled. "Good old Ned!" +he murmured. "I'm sorry I ragged him so. Gee, I'll have to buckle down +to my own job or he'll leave me at the post!" + +After practice that afternoon, Laurie and Lee picked up George and Bob +Starling at the tennis-courts, and, after changing into "cits," went +around to the doctor's porch and joined a dozen other lads who were +engaged in drinking Miss Tabitha's weak tea and eating her +soul-satisfying layer-cake. After a half-hour of batting and fielding +practice and a five-inning game between the first team and the scrubs, +Laurie was in a most receptive mood as far as refreshments were +concerned. Miss Tabitha made an ideal hostess, for she left conversation +to the guests and occupied herself in seeing that cups and plates were +kept filled. No one had yet discovered the number of helpings of cake +that constituted Miss Tabitha's limit of hospitality, and there was a +story of a junior so depressed by homesickness that he had +absent-mindedly consumed six wedges of it and was being urged to a +seventh when some inner voice uttered a saving warning. In spite of very +healthy appetites, none of the quartette sought to compete with that +record, but Laurie and George did allow themselves to be persuaded to +third helpings, declining most politely until they feared to decline any +more. Before they had finished, the doctor joined the group and made +himself very agreeable, telling several funny stories that set every one +laughing and caused a small junior--it was the cherub-faced youth who +sat at Laurie's table in the dining-hall and whose career thus far had +proved anything but that of a cherub--to swallow a mouthful of mocha +cake the wrong way, with disastrous results. During the ensuing +confusion the quartette took their departure. At the gate Bob Starling +said: + +"By the way, fellows, I spoke to Dad about that tennis-court, and he's +written to the agent for permission. He says there won't be any trouble; +and if there is, he'll agree to put the garden back the way we found it +and erect a new arbor." + +"What will it be?" asked George. "Sod or gravel?" + +"Oh, gravel. You couldn't get a sod court in shape under a year, and I +want to use it this fall. I'm going to look around to-morrow for some +one to do the job. Know who does that sort of work here--Lee?" + +"No, but I suppose you get a contractor; one of those fellows who build +roads and stone walls and things." + +"I'd ask at the court-house," said Laurie. + +"At the court--oh, that's a punk one!" jeered Bob. "See you later, +fellows!" + +The game with Highland Academy was played across the river at Lookout, +and most of the fellows went. In spite of Hop Kendrick's pessimistic +prophecy, Hillman's took command of the situation in the first quarter +and held it undisturbed to the final whistle. The contest was, if not +extremely fast, well played by both teams, and the hosts refused to +acknowledge defeat until the end. Captain Stevenson, at left tackle, was +the bright, particular star of the day, with the redoubtable Pope a good +second. + +It was Joe Stevenson's capture of a fumbled ball in the first five +minutes of play and his amazing run through the enemy ranks that +produced the initial score. Pope kicked an easy goal after Slavin, right +half, had plunged through for a touch-down. Later in the game, Pope had +added three more points by a place-kick from the forty-two yards. +Highland twice reached the Blue's ten-yard line, the first time losing +the ball on downs, and the next attempting a forward pass that went +astray. Her one opportunity to score by a kick was wrecked by no other +than Kewpie, who, having substituted Holmes at the beginning of the +second half, somehow shot his hundred and seventy pounds through the +defense and met the pigskin with his nose. Kewpie presented a +disreputable appearance for several days, but was given due honor. +Hillman's returned across the Hudson in the twilight of early October +with exultant cheers and songs. + +Ned watched that game from the substitutes' bench, just as he had +watched the two preceding contests, but a newly awakened _esprit de +corps_ forbade complaining. When Laurie sympathetically observed that he +thought it was time Mulford gave Ned a chance in a real game, Ned +responded with dignity, almost with severity, that he guessed the coach +knew his business. + +The first of the month--or, to be exact, the fourth--brought the twins +their monthly allowances, and one of the first things Laurie did was to +go to the little blue shop on Pine Street and pay his bill, which had +reached its prescribed limit several days before. Ned went, too, +although he didn't display much enthusiasm over the mission. Ned held +that, having created a bill, it was all wrong deliberately to destroy +it. To his mind, a bill was something to cherish and preserve. Laurie, +however, pointed out that, since one was prohibited from further +transactions at the Widow's, even on a cash basis, as long as one owed +money there, it would be wise to cancel the debts. Ned recognized the +wisdom of the statement and reluctantly parted with ninety-seven cents. + +Since it was only a little after two o'clock, the shop was empty when +the twins entered, and Polly and her mother were just finishing their +lunch in the back room. It was Polly who answered the tinkle of the bell +and who, after some frowning and turning of pages in the account-book, +canceled the indebtedness. + +"Now," said Ned, "I guess I'll have a cream-cake. Want one, Laurie?" + +Laurie did, in spite of the fact that it was less than an hour since +dinner. Mrs. Deane appeared at the door, observed the proceeding, and +smiled. + +"I'm real glad to see you're still alive," she said to Ned. "I guess he +must take very good care of you." + +"Yes'm, I do," Laurie assured her gravely. + +Ned laughed scornfully, or as scornfully as it was possible to laugh +with his mouth full. "You shouldn't believe everything he tells you, +Mrs. Deane. I have to look after him like a baby. Why, he wouldn't get +down in time for breakfast if I didn't put most of his clothes on." + +"That's no joke, either," retorted Laurie, "about you putting my clothes +on. You're wearing one of my collars and my best socks right now, +and--yes, sir, that's my blue tie!" + +"Wait a bit, partner! Where'd you get that shirt you're wearing?" + +"That's different," answered Laurie, with dignity. "Mine are all in the +wash. Besides, it's an old one and you never wear it." + +"I never get a chance to wear it!" + +"It must be very convenient for you," said Mrs. Deane, smilingly, "to be +able to wear each other's things. Polly, I guess there won't be any one +else in for a while; maybe they'd like to see your garden." + +Being assured that they would, Polly led the way through the back room, +a pleasant, sunny apartment evidently combining the duties of kitchen +and dining-room, and out to a little back porch shaded by +morning-glories and nasturtiums that fairly ran riot over the green +lattice. There was a braided rug on the floor and a small rocker and a +tiny table on which were books and a magazine or two. The books were +evidently Polly's school books, for they were held together by a strap. + +The twins liked that garden. It wasn't very large, for when the peculiar +Mr. Coventry had divided the estate he had placed the high board fence +very close to the little frame dwelling; but perhaps its very smallness +made it seem more attractive. Narrow beds encompassed it on three sides, +and a gravel walk followed the beds. In the tiny square inside, a small +rustic arbor, covered with climbing rose-vines, held a seat that, as was +presently proved, accommodated three very comfortably. + +But before they were allowed to sit down the boys had to be shown many +things: the hollyhocks against the back fence, the flowering almond that +had been brought all the way from the old home in New Jersey,--and had +never quite made up its mind whether to die of homesickness or go on +living,--the bed of lilies-of-the-valley that just _wouldn't_ keep out +of the path and many other floral treasures. Nasturtiums and +morning-glories and scarlet sage and crinkly-edged white and lavender +petunias were still blossoming gaily, and there was even a cluster of +white roses on the arbor, for, so far, no frost had come. The twins +admired properly and Polly was all smiles, until suddenly she said, +"O-oh!" and faced them reproachfully. + +"You've just let me go on and be perfectly ridiculous!" she charged. "I +don't think it's a bit nice of you!" + +"Why, what--how do you mean?" stammered Ned. + +"You have the most wonderful flowers in the world in California, and you +know it!" she replied severely; "and you've let me show you these poor +little things as if--as if they were anything at all in comparison! I +forgot you came from California." + +"Maybe we didn't tell you," offered Laurie. "Anyway, your flowers--" + +"In California they have hedges of geraniums and roses climb right over +the houses, and orange-trees and palms and everything," interrupted +Polly, breathlessly. "Why, this garden must seem perfectly--perfectly +_awful_ to you!" + +"Don't you believe it!" denied Ned. "Flowers and things do grow bigger, +I suppose, out our way; but they aren't a bit prettier, are they, +Laurie?" + +"Not so pretty," answered the other, earnestly. "Besides, _I_ never saw +a geranium hedge in my life. Maybe they have them in some places, like +Pasadena, but there isn't _one_ in Santa Lucia, honest. There isn't, is +there, Ned?" + +"_I_ never saw one. And palms aren't awfully pretty. They get sort of +scraggly-looking sometimes. Honest, Polly, I never saw a garden any +prettier and cuter than this is. Of course, some are bigger and--and +more magnificent--" + +"Who wants a magnificent garden?" demanded Laurie, scornfully. "What +have you got in the box, Polly?" + +Comforted, Polly smiled again. "That's Antoinette," she said. "Come and +see." + +Antoinette lived in a wooden box in the shelter of the porch, and had +long ears and very blue eyes and a nose that twitched funnily when they +approached. In short, Antoinette was a fluffy smoke-gray rabbit. "She +has a dreadfully long pedigree," said Polly, as she took Antoinette out +and snuggled her in her arms. + +"Has she?" murmured Laurie. "I thought it looked rather short." + +"A pedigree isn't a _tail_, you idiot," said Ned, scathingly. "She's +awfully pretty, Polly. Will she bite?" + +"Of course not! At least, not unless you look like a cabbage-leaf." + +"I wouldn't take a chance," Laurie advised. "Any one who's as green as +you are--" + +"She _tries_ to eat 'most everything," said Polly, "but she likes +cabbage and lettuce and carrots best." + +"I wish I had a cabbage," muttered Laurie, searching his pockets; "or a +carrot. You haven't a carrot with you, have you, Ned?" + +"You're the silliest boys!" laughed Polly, returning Antoinette to her +box. "Let's go and sit down a minute." And when they were on the seat +under the arbor and she had smoothed her skirt and tucked a pair of +rather soiled white canvas shoes from sight, she announced, "There! Now +you can make up a verse about something!" + + + + +CHAPTER X--POLLY ENTERTAINS + + +"Make up a--what did you say?" asked Ned. + +"Make up a verse," answered Polly, placidly. "As you did the other day +when you went out. Don't you remember?" + +"Oh!" Laurie looked somewhat embarrassed and a trifle silly. "Why, you +see--we only do that when--when--" + +"When we have inspiration," aided Ned, glibly. + +"Yes, that's it, inspiration! We--we have to have inspiration." + +"I'm sure Antoinette ought to be enough inspiration to any poet," +returned Polly, laughing. "You know you never saw a more beautiful +rabbit in your life--lives, I mean." + +Ned looked inquiringly at Laurie. Then he said, "Well, maybe if I close +my eyes a minute--" He suited action to word. Polly viewed him with +eager interest; Laurie, with misgiving. Finally, after a moment of +silent suspense, his eyelids flickered and: + +"O Antoinette, most lovely of thy kind!" he declaimed. + +"Thou eatest cabbages and watermelon rind!" finished Laurie, promptly. + +Polly clapped her hands, but her approval was short-lived. "But she +doesn't eatest watermelon rind," she declared indignantly. "I'm sure it +wouldn't be at all good for her!" + +Laurie grinned. "That's what we call poetic license," he explained. +"When you make a rhyme, sometimes you've got to--to sacrifice truth +for--in the interests of--I mean, you've got to think of the _sound_! +'Kind' and 'carrot' wouldn't sound _right_, don't you see?" + +"Well, I'm sure watermelon rind doesn't sound right, either," objected +Polly; "not for a rabbit. Rabbits have very delicate digestions." + +"We might change it," offered Ned. "How would this do? + + "O Antoinette, more lovely than a parrot, + Thou dost subsist on cabbages and carrot." + +"That's silly," said Polly, scornfully. + +"Poetry usually is silly," Ned answered. + +Laurie, who had been gazing raptly at his shoes, broke forth exultantly. +"I've got it!" he cried. "Listen! + + "O Antoinette, most beauteous of rabbits, + Be mine and I will feed thee naught but cabbits!" + +A brief silence followed. Then Ned asked, "What are cabbits?" + +"Cabbits are vegetables," replied Laurie. + +"I never heard of them," said Polly, wrinkling her forehead. + +"Neither did any one else," laughed Ned. "He just made them up to rhyme +with rabbits." + +"A cabbit," said Laurie, loftily, "is something between a cabbage and a +carrot." + +"What does it look like?" giggled Polly. + +Laurie blinked. "We-ell, you've seen a--you've seen an artichoke, +haven't you?" Polly nodded and Laurie blinked again. "And you've seen +a--a mangel-wurzel?" + +"No, I don't think so." + +"Then I don't see how I can tell you," said Laurie, evidently relieved, +"because a cabbit is more like a mangel-wurzel than anything else. Of +course, it's not so deciduous, and the shape is different; it's more +obvate than a mangel-wurzel; more--" he swept his hands vaguely in +air--"more phenomenal." + +"Oh, dry up," said Ned, grinning. "How'd you like to have to put up with +an idiot like that all your life, Polly? The worst of it is, folks +sometimes mistake him for me!" + +"Yes, it's awful, but I manage to bear up under it," Laurie sighed. + +"How did you ever come to think of making those funny rhymes?" Polly +asked. + +"Oh, we had measles once, about four years ago," said Ned. "We always +had everything together--measles, whooping-cough, scarlet fever, +everything. And when we were getting over it they wouldn't let us read +and so we made up rhymes. I forget whose idea it was. I'd make up one +line and Laurie would make up the other, or the other way round. The +idea was to have the last word of the first line so hard that the other +fellow couldn't rhyme to it. But I guess I only stuck Laurie once. Then +the word was lemon." + +"You didn't really stick me then," Laurie denied. "I rhymed it with +demon. You said they didn't rhyme, but I showed you a rhyming dictionary +that said they did." + +"The dictionary said it was an imperfect rhyme, Laurie, and--" + +"Just the same, a rhyme's a rhyme. Say, Ned, remember the one we made up +about Miss Yetter?" Ned nodded and grinned. "Miss Yetter was our nurse. +We thought it was pretty clever, but she didn't like it. + + "When feeling ill send for Miss Yetter. + If you don't die, she'll make you better." + +"She was quite insulted about it," laughed Ned, "and told Dad; and he +tried to lecture us, but we got laughing so he couldn't. We made rhymes +all the time for a while and nearly drove folks crazy; and finally Dad +said if we didn't stop it he'd whale us. And I said, 'All right, sir, +we'll try not to do it'; and Laurie, the chump, butted in with, ''Cause +if we do, we know we'll rue it!' We nearly got the licking right then!" + +"You _are_ funny!" laughed Polly. "Is your mother--haven't you--" + +"She died when we were kids," answered Laurie. "I just remember her, but +Ned doesn't." + +"You think you do. You've just heard Dad, and nurse talk about her. We +were only four when Mother died." + +Laurie looked unconvinced, but didn't argue the matter. Instead he +asked, "Your father's dead, isn't he, Polly?" + +"Yes, he died when I was eight. He was a dear, and I missed him just +terribly. Mother says I look like him. He was very tall and was always +laughing. Mother says he laughed so much he didn't have time for +anything else. She means that he wasn't--wasn't very successful. We were +very poor when he died. But I guess he was lots nicer than he would have +been if he had just been--successful. I guess the most successful man in +this town is Mr. Sparks, the banker, and no one has ever seen him laugh +once. And Uncle Peter was successful, too, I suppose; and he was just as +sour and ill-tempered as anything. He wasn't my real uncle, but I called +him that because Mother said it would please him. It didn't seem to." + +"Was that Mr. Coventry?" asked Laurie. "The mis--I mean the man who +lived in the big square house over there?" + +"Yes. And I don't mind your calling him the miser, because that is just +what he was. He was Mother's half-brother, but he didn't act as if he +was even a quarter-brother! He was always just as horrid as he could be. +When Father died he wrote Mother to come here and he would provide her +with a home. And when we came, we found he meant that Mother was to live +here and pay him rent. She didn't have enough money to do that, and so +Uncle Peter made the front of the house into a store and bought some +things for her and made her sign a mortgage or something. When he died, +we thought maybe he had left Mother a little; but there wasn't any will, +and not much property, either--just the big house on Walnut Street and +this place and about two thousand dollars. When the property was +divided, Mother got the other heirs to let her have this as her portion +of the estate, but she had to pay four hundred and fifty dollars for it. +That took about all she had saved and more, and so we haven't been able +to do much to the house yet." + +"It doesn't look as if it needed much doing to," said Ned, critically. + +"Oh, but it does! It needs a new coat of paint, for one thing. And some +of the blinds are broken. And there ought to be a furnace in it. Stoves +don't really keep it warm in winter. Some day we'll fix it up nicely, +though. As soon as I get through high school, I'm going to work and make +a lot of money." + +"Attaboy!" approved Ned. "What are you going to do, Polly?" + +"I'm learning stenography and typewriting, and Mr. Farmer, the +lawyer,--he's the one who got the others to let Mother have the house +when Uncle Peter's estate was settled,--says he will find a place for me +in his office. He's awfully nice. Some stenographers make lots of money, +don't they?" + +"I guess so," Ned agreed. "There's a woman in Dad's office who gets +eighteen dollars a week." + +Polly clasped her hands delightedly. "Maybe I wouldn't get that much, +though. I guess Mr. Farmer doesn't pay his stenographer very high wages. +Maybe I'd get twelve dollars, though. Don't you think I might?" + +"Sure!" said Laurie. "Don't you let any one tell you any different. +Didn't folks think that your Uncle Peter left more money than was found, +Polly?" + +"Oh, yes; but no one really knew. The lawyers looked everywhere. If he +did have any more, he must have hidden it away pretty well. They looked +all through the house and dug holes in the cellar floor. It was very +exciting. Mother thinks he lost what money he had speculating in stocks +and things. He used to go to New York about four times a year. No one +knew what he did there, not even Hilary; but Mother thinks he went to +see men who deal in stocks and that they got his money away from him." + +"Who is Hilary?" Laurie inquired. + +"Hilary was a colored man that Uncle had had a long time. It seemed to +me that if Uncle had had much money, Hilary would have known about it; +and he didn't." + +"Where is he now? Hilary, I mean," added Laurie, somewhat unnecessarily. + +"I don't know. He went away a little while after Uncle Peter died. He +said he was going to New York, I think." + +"You don't suppose he took the money with him, do you? I mean--" + +"Oh no!" Polly seemed quite horrified. "Hilary was just as honest as +honest! Why, Uncle Peter died owing him almost forty dollars and Hilary +never got a cent of it! The lawyers were too mean for anything!" + +"There's a fellow named Starling living there now," Laurie said. "His +father's rented the house for three years. Bob says that he's going to +find the money and give it to your mother." + +Polly laughed. "Oh, I wish that he would! But I guess if the lawyers +couldn't find it he never will. Lawyers, they say, can find money when +nobody else can! Is he nice?" + +"Bob? Yes, he's a dandy chap. You ought to know him, Polly; he's your +next-door neighbor." + +"Back-door neighbor, you mean," interpolated Ned. + +"I think I saw him in the garden one day," said Polly. "His father is an +engineer, Mae Ferrand says, and he's building a big bridge for the +railway. Or maybe it's a tunnel. I forget." + +"Is Mae Something the girl with the molasses-candy hair you were with at +the high school game?" Laurie asked. + +"Yes, but her hair isn't like molasses candy. It's perfectly lovely +hair. It's like--like diluted sunshine!" + +Laurie whistled. "Gee! Did you get that, Neddie? Well, anyway, I like +dark hair better." + +"Oh, I don't! I'd love to have hair like Mae's. And, what do you think, +she likes my hair better than her own!" + +"Don't blame her," said Laurie. "What do you say, Ned?" + +"I say I've got to beat it back and get into football togs. What time is +it?" + +"Look at your own watch, you lazy loafer. Well, come on. I say, Polly, +would your mother let you go to the game with me Saturday? That is, if +you want to, of course." + +"Oh, I'd love to! But--I'll ask her, anyway. And if she says I may, +would you mind if Mae went too? We usually go together to the games." + +"Not a bit. I'll be around again before Saturday and see what she says." + +"I wouldn't be surprised if she said yes," remarked Polly. "I think she +must like you boys. Anyway, you're the first of the Hillman's boys she +has ever let me invite out here." + +"Really? Bully for her! Wait till I say farewell to Antoinette, 'most +beauteous of rabbits!' What does she twitch her nose like that for?" + +"I think she's asking for some cabbits," replied Polly, gravely. + +"She's making faces at you, you chump," said Ned, rudely. "Come on." +They returned through the little living-room, empty save for a big black +cat asleep in a rocking-chair, and found Mrs. Deane serving the first of +the afternoon trade in the shop beyond. They said good afternoon to her +very politely, and Polly went to the door with them. Outside on the +walk, Ned nudged Laurie, and they paused side by side and gravely +removed their caps. + +"We give you thanks and say farewell, Miss Polly." + +"The visit's been, indeed, most jolly!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI--NED SPEAKS OUT + + +There was a cut in the football squad that afternoon and more than a +dozen candidates were retired, leaving twenty-eight players for the +first and scrub teams. Ned survived, as, indeed, he expected to; for, +while he knew his limitations, neither the coach nor the captain +appeared to. Perhaps they were sometimes puzzled over flashes of +ineptitude, or perhaps they put them down to temporary reversals of +form; at least, Ned's talent was never seriously questioned by them. He +had settled down as a regular half-back on the scrub eleven, although +twice he had been called on in practice scrimmages to take Mason's place +at left half on the first squad. He was too light to make much headway +in bucking plays, and his inability to start quickly handicapped him +frequently in running; but as a kicker he was dependable and had +developed a quite remarkable accuracy at forward passing. Against a +light opponent or a slow one he could be counted on to play a fairly +good game, although so far he had not been allowed the opportunity. With +him on the scrub team was Hop Kendrick at quarter, and, for a time, +Kewpie at center. But Kewpie had trained down at last to a hundred and +sixty-five pounds and was handling his weight and bulk with a new +snappiness, and a few days after Ned became a part of the scrub outfit +Kewpie was elevated to the first team, and a much disgruntled Holmes +took his place on the second. + +With the defeat of Wagner School, Hillman's ended her preliminary +season. In that contest, played at home, the Blue showed a new +aggressiveness and much more speed; and, while she was able to score +only one touch-down, and Pope failed miserably at goal, every one was +well satisfied. Wagner had a strong team, and a victory over it was no +small triumph. Hillman's line held splendidly under the battering-ram +tactics of the adversary, and her backs were fast and shifty. On attack, +the Blue failed to gain consistently; but in the third period, with a +captured fumble on Wagner's thirty-three yards for encouragement, Pope +got free for half the distance, and Slavin and Mason, alternating, +worked the enemy's left side until the ball lay on the five-yard line. +Then a fake attack on Wagner's right, with Pope carrying the ball +through on the left of center, brought the only score of the day. Kewpie +proved himself that afternoon, for he was a veritable Rock of Gibraltar +on defense and a hundred and sixty-five pounds of steel springs on +attack. The Blue team was far from a perfect machine yet, but it seemed +that Mulford had found his parts and that only a generous oiling was +needed. + +Laurie and George Watson escorted Polly and Mae Ferrand to the game, +and, although aware of the covert grins and whispered witticisms of +acquaintances, enjoyed themselves hugely. Mae proved to be a very jolly, +wholesome sort of girl, and her knowledge of what may be termed "inside +football" was stupendous and made both Laurie and George rather ashamed +of their ignorance. Between the halves, Ned, arrayed in a trailing gray +blanket, joined them and promptly became involved with Mae in a very +technical argument that no one else could follow. From the fact that Ned +retired with a rather dispirited expression when the teams came on +again, Laurie surmised that the honors had gone to Mae. + +The following Monday evening, while the enthusiasm produced by the +victory over Wagner School was still undiminished, a second mass-meeting +was held in the auditorium to devise means of replenishing the football +treasury: Three of the remaining five games were to be played away from +Orstead, and in two cases the distance to be traveled was considerable +and the expenses consequently large. As Joe Stevenson said, introducing +the subject for discussion, if Hillman's charged admission to her home +games, it would be possible to get through a season without asking for +assistance from the student body. "But you fellows know that that isn't +the school policy. We are allowed to sell tickets for the Farview game +only, and, while we make about four hundred and fifty dollars as our +share, that doesn't go very far against the season's outlay. We have to +pay from seventy-five to a hundred and twenty-five dollars to every team +that comes here to play us. When we go away we seldom make enough to pay +our expenses. In the Highland game, because it cost us almost nothing +for fares, we did. At the present moment we have a cash balance on hand +of forty-three dollars, and our liabilities, including Mr. Mulford's +salary for the remainder of the season, are about eight hundred dollars. + +"The manager estimates that we'll have to incur added expenses for about +a hundred and twenty dollars for Farview game tickets and new supplies. +In short, we shall have to pay out, before the season ends, about nine +hundred dollars. Against that we have on hand forty-three dollars, and +in prospect something like five hundred, leaving us about three hundred +and fifty in the hole. + +"There has been talk of cutting out the Lansing and Whittier games, but +that wouldn't make enough difference. Besides, it would give us a black +eye to cancel games as late as this. We might save perhaps seventy +dollars if we did, but it would cost us ten times that in public +estimation. As far as I can see, fellows, if we're going to have a +football team, we've got to pay for it. We've asked permission to charge +admission, even a nominal one, to all games, but the faculty is against +it. And we have asked to have a regular assessment made against each +student. To many of us that would seem the fairer and most satisfactory +way of meeting the emergency. But the faculty doesn't like that any +better than the other proposition. So I guess it's up to us, each and +every one of us, to dig down and produce the coin. + +"We need three hundred and fifty dollars at least. That means that every +fellow in school must pony up four dollars, or, rather, that the average +must be four dollars each. Some of you can't give so much, probably, and +a few can give more. I'd like to hear from you, please. Don't be afraid +to say what you think. We want to get together on this matter and thrash +it out, if it takes until ten o'clock. Any one who has any suggestion to +offer or anything to say will be heard. Come on, somebody!" + +There were plenty of speakers: Dave Brewster, the baseball captain, Dan +Whipple, senior class president, Lew Cooper, upper middle class +president, Dave Murray, the manager of the team, Craig Jones, for the +lower middlers, and many others, Some subscribed to the donation scheme, +others opposed it. Cooper suggested an appeal to the school alumni. +Brewster pointed out that the effort would cost money and that the +result would be uncertain and, in any case, slow. An increase in the +price of tickets to the Farview game was discussed and the idea +abandoned. An hour passed and the meeting was getting nowhere. Some of +the younger boys had already withdrawn. A tall, lantern-jawed youth had +charged the football committee with extravagance, and Dave Murray had +bitterly resented the allegation. Ned, who, with Laurie and Lee Murdock, +was seated near the back of the hall, had shown signs of restiveness for +some time and had been muttering to himself. Now, to the surprise of his +companions, he jumped to his feet and demanded recognition: + +"Mr. Chairman!" + +"Mister--" Dan Whipple pointed a finger at Ned and nodded. + +"Turner," prompted Kewpie from a front seat. + +"Mr. Turner," encouraged the chairman. + +"I'd like to say that I never heard so much talking and saw so little +action," began Ned, impatiently. "What's the matter with some one saying +something useful instead of just chewing the rag?" + +"You tell 'em," piped a small junior, above the applause and laughter. + +"All right! I'll tell you fellows that you're a lot of pikers to +hesitate to pledge three or four hundred dollars to keep your team +going. Where I come from we had to have a new grand stand two years ago, +and we called a meeting like this and we raised seven hundred dollars in +thirty-five minutes in cash and pledges. There were a lot more of us, +but half of us would have felt like Rockefellers if we'd ever found a +whole half-dollar in our pockets! Some of us gave as high as five +dollars, but not many. Most of us pledged two dollars; and those who +didn't have two dollars went out and worked until they'd made it, by +jingo! And we got our grand stand up inside of two weeks, in time for +the big baseball game." + +There was real applause this time, and those in the front of the hall +had swung around to have a look at the earnest youth who was calling +them names. + +"That's one way of getting the money," continued Ned, warming up finely, +"but there's another. Out my way--" + +"Say, where do you come from?" called some one. + +"I come from California," answered Ned, proudly. "Maybe you've heard of +it!" + +"Attaboy!" shouted Kewpie. "Swing your leg, Nid!" + +"When we want to raise some money out there and folks are too stingy to +give it outright, we take it away from them another way. We get up a +fête. We give them a good time and they pay for it. Why not try it here? +I don't know how many folks there are in this burg, but I reckon there +are enough to part with three or four hundred dollars. Give them an +excuse to spend their money and they'll spend it!" + +Ned sat down amid loud applause, and Dave Brewster was recognized, +although half a dozen others were clamoring for speech. + +"Turner's said something, fellows," declared Brewster. "The idea's worth +considering. We've never tackled the town folks for money, and there's +no reason why they shouldn't come across. They've come to our games for +years without paying a cent, except for the Farview game, and it +wouldn't hurt them to give a little to a good cause. I don't know what +sort of a fête Turner has in mind, but I should think we might get up +something that would do the business." + +"Mr. Chairman," said Kewpie, "I move that a committee of three be +appointed by the chair, to include Nid,--I mean Mr. Turner,--to consider +the--the matter of giving a fête to raise the money." + +"Seconded!" + +"You have heard the motion," droned Whipple. "All those in favor will so +signify by saying 'Aye.' Contrary, 'No.' Moved and carried. I will +appoint the presidents of the senior and upper middle classes and Mr. +Turner to the committee, three in all. Is it the sense of this meeting +that your committee is to report to it at a subsequent meeting, or is it +to have authority to proceed with the matter if it decides that the +scheme is a good one?" + +"Full authority, Mr. Chairman!" "Let 'em go ahead with it!" "Sure! +That's what we want. Let's have action!" + +"Is there any other business? Then I declare the meeting adjourned!" + +Whipple captured Ned on the way out. "We'd better get together right +away on this, Turner," he said. "Can you meet Cooper and me at my room +to-morrow at twelve?" + +Ned agreed, and he and Laurie and Lee went on. "What I'd like to know," +remarked Laurie, after a moment's silence, "is how you're going to have +a fête in a place like this. The weather's too cold for it." + +"Maybe it will be warmer," answered Ned, cheerfully. "Besides, we don't +have to have it outdoors." + +"It wouldn't be a fête if you didn't," sniffed the other. + +"Well, what's the difference? Call it anything you like. The big thing +is to get the money." + +"You had your cheek with you to talk the way you did," chuckled Laurie. + +"He talked sense, though," asserted Lee, warmly. + +"Of course. The Turners always do." Laurie steered Ned toward the +entrance of East Hall. "Well, good night, Lee. See you at the fête!" + +Upstairs, Ned tossed his cap to the bed, plumped himself into a chair at +the table, and drew paper and pencil to him. "Now," he said, "let's +figure this out. I've got to talk turkey to those fellows to-morrow. +What's your idea, partner?" + +"Hey, where do you get that stuff?" demanded Laurie. "Why drag me into +it? It's not my fête. I don't own it." + +"Shut up and sit down there before I punch your head. You've got to help +with this. The honor of the Turners is at stake!" + +So Laurie subsided and for more than an hour he and Ned racked their +brains and gradually the plan took shape. + + + + +CHAPTER XII--THE COMMITTEE ON ARRANGEMENTS + + +"It's like this," explained Ned. He and Laurie and Polly and Mae Ferrand +were in the little garden behind the shop. The girls were on the bench +and the boys were seated on the turf before the arbor, their knees +encircled with their arms. A few yards away Antoinette eyed them gravely +and twitched her nose. On the porch step, Towser, the big black cat, +blinked benignly, sometimes shifting his gaze to the branches of the +maple in the next yard, where an impudent black-and-white woodpecker was +seeking a late luncheon. + +"There are two sub-committees," continued Ned, earnestly. "Whipple and +Cooper are the Committee on Finance and Publicity, and Laurie and I are +the Committee on Arrangements. I told them I had to have help and so +they took Laurie in." + +"No thanks to you," grumbled Laurie, who was, however, secretly much +pleased. + +"It's going to be next Saturday afternoon and evening, and this is +Tuesday, and so there isn't much time. We were afraid to make it any +later because the weather might get too cold. Besides, the team needs +the money right off. I looked in an almanac and it said that next +Saturday would be fair and warm, so that's all right." + +"But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" asked Polly. "I +know ours does. When we had our high-school picnic, the almanac said +'showers' and it was a perfectly gorgeous day. I carried my mackintosh +around all day and it was a perfect nuisance. Don't you remember, Mae?" + +"Well, you've got to believe in something," declared Ned. "Anyway, we're +going to have it at Bob Starling's, and if it's too cold outdoors, we'll +move inside." + +"You mean at Uncle Peter's?" exclaimed Polly. + +"Yes. We thought of having it at school first, but Mr. Hillman didn't +like it much; and besides, the fellows would be inside without having to +pay to get there! You see, it's going to cost every one a quarter just +to get in." + +"And how much to get out?" asked Mae, innocently. + +Ned grinned. "As much as we can get away from them. There'll be twelve +booths to sell things in--" + +"What sort of things?" Polly inquired. + +"All sorts. Eats and drinks and everything. We're getting the +storekeepers to donate things. So far they've just given us things that +they haven't been able to sell, a pile of junk; but we're going to stop +that. Biddle, the hardware man, gave us a dozen cheap pocket-knives, but +he's got to come across again. We've been to only eight of them so far, +but we haven't done so worse. Guess we've got enough truck for one booth +already. And then there'll be one of them for a rummage sale. We're +going to get each of the fellows to give us something for that, and I'll +bet we'll have a fine lot of truck. Each booth will represent a college +and be decorated in the proper colors: Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and so +on. And--and now it's your turn, Laurie." + +"Yes, I notice that I always have to do the dirty work," said the other. +He hugged his knees tighter, rolled over on his back for inspiration, +and, when he again faced his audience on the bench, smiled his nicest. +"Here's where you girls come in," he announced. "We want you two to take +two of the booths and get a girl for each of the others. Want to?" + +"Oh, it would be darling!" cried Polly. + +"I'd love to!" said Mae. + +"Only--" + +"Only--" + +"Only what!" asked Ned, as the girls viewed each other doubtfully. + +"I'm not sure Mother would let me," sighed Polly. "Do you think she +would, Mae?" + +"I don't believe so. And I don't believe Mama would let me. She--she's +awfully particular that way." + +"Gee!" said Ned, in disappointed tones, "I don't see why not! It isn't +as if--" + +"Of course it isn't," agreed Laurie. "Besides, your mothers would be +there too!" + +"Would they?" asked Mae, uncertainly. + +"Of course! Every one's coming! What harm would there be in it? You can +do things for--for charity that you can't do any other time! All you'd +have to do would be to just stand behind the booth and sell things. It +won't be hard. Everything will have the price marked on it and--" + +"You won't need to go by the prices always, though," interpolated Ned. +"I mean, if you can get more than the thing is marked, you'd better do +it! And then there's the--the costumes, Laurie." + +"Oh, yes, I forgot. We'd like each girl to sort of wear something that +would sort of match the college she represented--sort of," he explained +apologetically. "If you had the Yale booth, you could wear a dark-blue +waist, and so on. Do you think that would be possible?" + +Polly giggled. "We might ask Stella Hatch to take the Harvard booth, +Mae. With her hair, she wouldn't have to dress much!" + +"And you and Polly could take your first pick," observed Laurie, +craftily. "You'd look swell as--as Dartmouth, Mae!" + +"In _green_! My gracious, Ned! No, thank you! But Polly ought to be +Yale. She looks lovely in blue. I think I'd like to be Cornell. My +brother Harry's in Cornell." + +"All right," agreed Ned. "I wish you'd ask your mothers soon, will you? +Do try, because we've just got to get girls for the booths. You'd have +lots of fun, too. The Banjo and Mandolin Club is going to play for +dancing for an hour at five and nine, and there'll be an entertainment, +too." + +"What sort?" asked Polly. + +"We don't know yet. Some of the gymnastic team will do stunts, I think, +for one thing, and there'll be singing and maybe Laurie will do some +rope-swinging--" + +"I told you a dozen times I wouldn't! Besides, I haven't any rope." + +"We can find one, probably," replied his brother, untroubled. "We +haven't settled about the entertainment yet. And there are two or three +other things we haven't got to. Starling's going to have his garden all +fixed up, and he's going to cover the old arbor with branches and hang +Chinese lanterns in it and have little tables and chairs there for folks +to sit down and eat ice-cream and cake. + +"And that reminds me, Polly. Do you suppose that Miss Comfort would make +some cakes for us?" + +"Why, yes, Nid, but--but you'd have to _buy_ them. I don't think you +ought to expect her to _donate_ them." + +"We meant to buy them, of course, Polly. And we wondered if your mother +would make some of those dandy cream-puffs." + +"I'm sure she will. How many would you want?" + +"I don't know. You see, there's no way of telling how many will come. +There are three thousand people in Orstead, but that doesn't mean much, +does it? The 'Messenger' editor's agreed to put in an advertisement for +us for nothing, and there'll be notices all around town in the windows: +we got the man who prints the school monthly to do them for just the +cost of the paper. So folks ought to come, shouldn't you think?" + +"Oh, I'm sure they will!" agreed Polly, and Mae echoed her. "But it'll +be dreadfully hard to know how much cake and ice-cream and refreshments +to order, won't it?" + +"Fierce," agreed Ned. "I suppose the best way will be to reckon on, say, +three hundred and order that much stuff. Only, how do you tell how much +three hundred will eat?" + +"Why, you can't! Besides, Nid, three hundred people would only bring in +seventy-five dollars!" + +"In admissions, yes; but we've got to make them buy things when we get +them in there. If every one spent a dollar inside--" + +"But lots of them won't. Do you think they will, Mae?" + +Mae shook her head. "No, I don't. Lots and lots will just come out of +curiosity and won't spend a cent. I know, boys, because that's the way +they act at the fairs here." + +Ned kicked at the turf gloomily. "Gee, that's fierce!" he muttered. + +"Well, we'd ought to get more than three hundred folks," said Laurie. +"Remember, it's to be afternoon and evening too. I'll bet there'll be +nearer six hundred than three." + +Ned brightened. "That's so. And six hundred, even if they only averaged +fifty cents apiece, would be three hundred dollars. And I guess if we +can make three hundred, we can dig up the other fifty! Well, we've got +to get busy, Laurie. I got them to give me a cut from practice this +afternoon and I'll have to make the most of my time," he explained to +the girls. + +"Oh! And did they let you off, too, Nod?" asked Polly. + +"No, we're through with baseball," Laurie answered. "No more till +spring. I'm just fairly broken-hearted!" + +"When will you know about helping us, Polly?" Ned asked. + +[Illustration: "But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" +asked Polly] + +"I'll ask Mother right away; and you'll ask, too, won't you, Mae? Can +you stop in this evening? I do hope it'll be all right!" + +"So do we!" said Ned and Laurie, in a breath. "Rather!" + +And the Committee on Arrangements hurried away. + +That night the committee met again in Dan Whipple's room in West Hall +and satisfactory progress was reported all along the line. Ned read a +list of donations from the town merchants, and announced that twelve +young ladies from the high school would be on hand, appropriately +attired, to take charge of the booths. Lew Cooper showed proofs of the +poster that was to be displayed in windows and tacked on posts and +fences, and of the four-inch, double-column advertisement to appear in +the "Messenger." Dan reported that Mr. Wells, the physical director, had +promised to see that the best six members of the gymnastic team should +exhibit afternoon and evening. + +"That means, though," he said, "that we'll have to have some kind of a +platform. Better make a note of that, Lew." + +"Platforms cost money," answered Lew, dubiously. "Maybe we can +borrow--I'll tell you what! There's one stored over in the field-house, +one they use to set the dressing-tent on. It's in two +pieces,--sections,--but I guess it's big enough. We'll see if we can't +get the use of it." + +"Good! Better ask Mr. Wells, Say, Hal, did you see Norris?" + +Hal Pringle was Dan's room-mate, and, while he was usually present at +the meetings, he was careful to keep himself in the background unless +called on for advice. Now he looked up from his book and nodded. "Yes, +it 'a all right. They'll play for an hour in the afternoon and an hour +at night. I had to promise them eats, though." + +"Of course. Much obliged. Speaking of eats, fellows, what's been done +about the refreshments?" + +"Nothing yet," answered Ned. "I wanted to talk that over. How many +sandwiches and how much salad will we want? And how many gallons of +ice-cream and--" + +"Whoa!" begged Dan. "Blessed if I know! How the dickens are we going to +know how much food will be needed? What's the rule about it? Or isn't +there any?" + +"Depends on how many will attend the show," said Lew. "Find that out--" + +"How're we going to find it out, you chump? How many do you suppose we +can count on, Ned?" + +"Maybe six hundred," was the answer. "But if it should rain--" + +"There you are! If it rained, we mightn't get two hundred! I'll say +that's a problem. We'd be in a fine fix if we found ourselves with two +or three freezers of ice-cream on our hands and a lot of other truck. +Look here, Tabby might know. Suppose you ask her, Ned. We've got to have +enough and not too much." + +"It'll be all right about the ice-cream," said Laurie. "The man said we +could return what we didn't open if we got it back that night so he +could pack it over. But the other things--" + +"You talk to Tabby in the morning," repeated Dan. "She'll know if any +one does. Now what else? What about the entertainment part of it, Mr. +Chairman of the Committee on Arrangements? What have you got in mind +besides the gymnastics?" + +"We thought we might find some one who could sing or dance. But we don't +know many of the fellows." + +"Bully! There's Cheesman, Lew. He's a corker. And Kewpie isn't so bad. +He sings a funny song mighty well." + +"He couldn't sing it in the afternoon, though, Dan: he'd be at the +field." + +"That's so! still, the game ought to be finished by four. We wouldn't +have the entertainment part until late, would we?" + +"About four, I thought," said Ned, "but Kewpie could come last. I'll put +him down, anyway." + +"Anything else besides songs?" asked Dan. + +"Yes, only-" Ned dropped his voice and glanced at Pringle--"only it's +got to be kept a secret to make good." + +"Oh, Hal's all right. He's a sort of ex-officio member of the committee. +Shoot, Ned!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII--NED GETS INTO THE GAME + + +Four hectic days followed. To Laurie, since Ned was held for two hours +each afternoon at the football field, fell most of the duties of the +Committee on Arrangements, and he was a very busy youth. He badgered +shopkeepers into parting with goods to be sold at the booths, helped Bob +Starling trim up the old arbor in the garden of the Coventry place, made +frequent trips to the Or stead caterer's, engaged eight cakes from Miss +Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from the Widow Deane, spent two +hours Wednesday helping Lew and Hal Pringle distribute posters +throughout the village, and attended to a hundred other matters +between-times. Of course, Ned aided when he could, and was helpful with +advice and unfailing in suggestions; but recitations and football +practice didn't leave him much time, even though he conscientiously +arose a full hour earlier every morning that week, and skimped studying +so much that he got in trouble with three instructors in one day! + +Miss Tabitha had proved as helpful as Dan Whipple had predicted. She had +shaken her head at the idea of entertaining six hundred at the fête. +"You mustn't count on more than half that many," she said. "I dare say +all the boys will go, and they'll make ninety. Then, if you get two +hundred of the townsfolk, you'll be doing very nicely. Don't decide how +much salad or how many sandwiches you want until Saturday morning. So +much will depend on the weather. Even if you hold the affair indoors, +lots of folks won't come if it rains. You say you've ordered eight cakes +from Martha Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from Mrs. Deane?" + +"Yes'm," said Ned. "We wanted Mrs. Deane to make more, but she didn't +think she could." + +"Well, that's a hundred and fourty-four cream-puffs, and--let me +see--one of Miss Comfort's cakes will cut into sixteen pieces, and eight +times sixteen--" + +"A hundred and twenty-eight, ma'am." + +"Well, and a hundred and twenty-eight and a hundred and forty-four--" + +"Two hundred and seventy-two." + +"You're real quick at figures, aren't you? Seems as if, though, counting +on three hundred, you'd be a little short. I'll have Aunt Persis make +one of her marble-cakes. That'll help out, I guess." + +"Yes'm; thanks awfully," answered Ned. + +"Who is going to serve the refreshments?" + +"Why--why--" Ned's face fell. "I guess we hadn't thought of that!" + +"Well, it makes a heap of difference, because you can make a quart of +ice-cream serve ten people or twenty, just as you've a mind to. I +usually count on sixteen. Same way with a loaf of cake, and same way +with salad. It's awfully easy to waste salad when you're serving it. +Now, if you'd like me to, Ned, I'll attend to serving everything for +you. You just have the things set down there and I'll look after them." + +"Oh, Miss Hillman, if you would! Gee, that would be great! It--it'll be +a lot of trouble, though, ma'am." + +"Well, I guess it won't be the first trouble I've seen," replied Miss +Tabitha, dryly; "nor it won't be the last!" + +Thursday afternoon Laurie hurried over to the Coventry place as soon as +a two-o'clock recitation was done. Bob was awaiting him at the gate, and +conducted him around to the back of the big square house. Ned stared in +surprise. The tangle of trees and vines and shrubbery had been trimmed +to orderly neatness, the long, unkempt grass had been shorn to a yellow, +but respectable, turf, and the old arbor showed new strips where Thomas, +the Starlings' man, had been at work on the decrepit frame. Near at hand +lay piles of cedar and hemlock branches. + +"Dad got a couple of the men to cut those down near the tunnel and haul +them up here." Bob explained. "Thomas is going to help us put them up. +He made a peachy job of the garden, didn't he?" + +"You bet!" responded Laurie, heartily. "I wouldn't have known the place! +I say, Bob, this arbor's longer than I thought it was." + +"Forty feet, about. Why?" + +"I only ordered six tables and a dozen chairs from the caterer," +answered Laurie, dubiously. "Guess they aren't enough; but he's charging +twenty-five cents apiece for them--" + +"Twenty-five cents for a table? Isn't that dirt-cheap?" + +"We're only renting them, you idiot!" + +"Oh, I see. Well, six is enough, I guess; you don't want to crowd them. +Now let's get busy with the green stuff. I'll yell down cellar for +Thomas. There's a ball of twine, and I've got two hammers and a lot of +tacks on the side porch. You take your coat off and I'll--" + +"We'll have to have a step-ladder, Bob!" + +"There's a short ladder right beside you. Be right back." + +Laurie sat down on a wheelbarrow, after removing his coat and folding +back the sleeves of his shirt, and looked around him. The garden was +fairly large--larger in appearance since the clutter of shrubbery along +the sides had been cleared away. Along the School Park edge ran a tall +hedge of lilac bushes. At the back was the high board fence, painted +dark brown, that separated the garden from the Widow Deane's humble +property. On the other side was a rusty ornamental iron fence, mostly +hidden by vines. Broad walks, in spite of Thomas's efforts rather +overrun with weeds, surrounded the central plot of ancient turf, and +another ran straight down the middle of the garden, connecting with the +arbor. Wires were to be strung from the trees and across to the arbor, +and Chinese lanterns hung thereon. Laurie, half closing his eyes, sought +to visualize the place as it would appear on Saturday. He did want the +affair to be a success, both financial and artistic, both on account of +the school and--well, for the honor of the Turners! While he was musing, +two things happened simultaneously: Bob and Thomas appeared from the +house, and a familiar voice came to him from the opposite direction. + +"Nod!" called the voice. "Nod, will you please come here a moment?" + +Laurie's eyes sought the board fence. Over the top of it appeared the +head and shoulders of Polly. He left the wheelbarrow and hurried through +the arbor and down the walk beyond. Polly's face indicated distress, +whether mental or physical Laurie couldn't determine. But Polly's first +words explained. + +"I can't stay here l-long," she said. "I--I'm just hanging by my elbows. +I cl-climbed up on a board, and it's fallen down!" + +"I'll get you a ladder!" cried Laurie, gallantly. + +"N-no, never mind. I'm going to drop in a s-second. I just want to ask +you what Brown's color is. Nettie Blanchard is going to be Brown and--" + +"Why, brown, of course!" + +"Oh!" There was the sound of desperate scraping against the farther side +of the fence, and Polly's countenance became fairly convulsed with the +effort of holding herself in sight. "Oh! She said it was pur-pur--" + +Polly disappeared. There was a thud from the next yard. + +"Purple!" The word floated across to him, muffled but triumphant. + +"Are you hurt, Polly?" he called anxiously. + +"Not a bit," was the rueful response, "but I'm afraid the day-lilies +are!" Then she laughed merrily. "Thanks, Nod! I didn't think Nettie was +right. She loves purple, you see!" + +"Does she? Well, say, maybe she can be Williams. We weren't going to +have Williams, but its color is purple, I think, and if she is going to +be disappointed--" + +"She will look very well indeed in brown," came from the other side in +judicial tones; "and if we begin making changes, half the girls will +want to be something they aren't. Why, Pearl Fayles begged to be some +girls' college neither Mae nor I had ever heard of, just so she could +wear lavender and pale lemon!" + +"Well, all right," laughed Laurie. "She'd better stick to Brown--and +brown! Good-by, Polly. I'll drop in after a while and find out how +things are getting on." + +He turned to find Bob viewing him quizzically from the end of the arbor, +swinging a hammer in each hand. "Of course it's all right, I dare say," +he announced, "but I _thought_ you came here to fix up the arbor. +Instead of that I find you talking to girls over the fence!" + +"There's only one girl," replied Laurie, with dignity, "and we were +talking business." + +"Oh, of course! Sorry I interrupted." + +"You needn't be, and you didn't. Quit grinning like a simpleton and give +me a hammer!" + +"Right-o! Come on, Thomas! It's quite all right now!" + +An hour later their task was done, and well done, and they viewed it +with approval. To be honest, the major part of the work had been +performed by the faithful Thomas, although it is not to be denied that +both Laurie and Bob toiled conscientiously. Before they were through +approving the result from various angles, Bob's father joined them. Mr. +Starling was an older edition of Bob--a tall, straight, lean-visaged man +of forty-two or -three, with the complexion of one who had lived an +outdoor life. He had a deep, pleasant voice and a quiet manner not fully +in accord with a pair of keen eyes and a firm mouth. + +"I'd call that a good piece of work, boys," he said, as he joined them. +"And right up to specifications, too. Those paper lanterns come yet, +Bob?" + +"No, sir; I haven't seen them." + +"Lanterns, Mr. Starling?" asked Laurie. "Do you mean Chinese lanterns? +We've ordered a lot from the caterer, sir." + +"Tell him you won't need them, then. I've got a hundred coming up from +the city, Turner. They ought to be here, too. Thomas, call up the +express company and ask about them." + +"That's very kind, sir," said Laurie, "but you needn't have done it. +You--you're doing _everything_!" + +"Nonsense! Bob and I want to do our part, of course. Well, this +wilderness certainly looks different, doesn't it? That reminds me, Bob; +the agent writes me that we may 'make such improvements to the property +as we desire.' So, as I consider the absence of that arbor an +improvement, I guess you can pull it down any time you like. I'm going +to have a cup of tea, Turner. Will you join me? I believe there will be +cakes, too." + +Laurie found Ned in rather a low frame of mind when he got back to +Number 16 a half-hour before supper-time. Ned was hunched over a Latin +book and each hand held a firm grip on his hair. At Laurie's arrival he +merely grunted. + +"Where does it pain you most?" asked Laurie, solicitously, subsiding +into a chair with a weary sigh. Ned's mood was far from flippant. He +rewarded the other with a scowl, and bent his gaze on the book again. +"Want to hear the latest news from the front?" persisted Laurie. + +"No, I don't!" his brother growled. "I've had all the news I can stand. +Smug says that if I don't get this rotten stuff by nine to-night, and +make a perfect showing to-morrow, he will can me!" + +"Mr. Cornish said that?" gasped Laurie. "What do you know about that? +Why, I thought he was a gentleman!" + +"He's a--a brute! I can't learn the old stuff! And I have a hunch that +Mulford means to give me a try in the Loring game Saturday. And if I +don't get this, Cornish will fix it so I can't play. He as good as said +so." + +"Didn't you tell him you'd been busy with the fête and everything?" + +"Of course I did. Much he cared! Just made a rotten pun. Said I'd better +keep my own fate in mind. Puns are fearfully low and vulgar!" + +"Aren't they? How much of that have you got?" + +"Six pages. I--I've sort of neglected it the last two days. Some fellows +can fake through, but I don't have any luck. He's always picking on me." + +Laurie whistled expressively. "Six pages! Well, never say die, partner. +We'll get down to supper early, and that'll give us two hours before +nine." + +"Us?" questioned Ned, hopefully. + +"Sure. I'll give you a hand. As the well-known proverb so wisely +remarks, two heads are the shortest way home." + +Ned grinned, and stopped tormenting his hair. "Honest? That's mighty +decent, Laurie. I'll do as much for you some day." + +"Hope you won't have to. Wash your dirty face and let's beat it!" + +At half-past nine a more cheerful and much relieved Ned returned from +the hall master's study. "All right," he announced to an anxious Laurie. +"He was rather decent, too. Said he guessed that, in view of the +manifold affairs engaging my attention just now,--you know the crazy way +he talks,--he wouldn't demand too much from me. Reckon he means to let +me down easy to-morrow, eh?" + +"Maybe, partner, and maybe not. Take my advice and, in the words of the +Scouts, be prepared!" + +Friday was a hectic day for Laurie and all others concerned with the +fête. Difficulties that had remained in ambush all the week sprang out +and confronted them at the last moment. Half a dozen things had been +forgotten, and every member of the committee sought to exonerate +himself. Tempers were short and the meeting in Dan Whipple's room at +nine o'clock was far from harmonious. All went to bed that night firmly +convinced that the affair was doomed to be a flat failure. And, to add +to that conviction, the night sky was overcast and an unsympathetic +easterly wind was blowing. Ned, conscious of having imposed too many +duties on Laurie, was grouchy and silent; and Laurie, convinced that he +had been made a "goat" of, and that Ned was secretly blaming him for +mistakes and omissions that were no fault of his, retired in high +dudgeon. + +And yet, the morning dawned fair and warm, with an almost cloudless blue +sky over the world, and life looked very different indeed. Ned arose +whistling, and Laurie somehow knew that everything would be all right. +Fortunately, they had but two recitations on Saturday, and in +consequence there remained to them three whole hours before dinner to +devote to the affairs of the entertainment. They were busy hours, you +may be sure. If Ned hurried downtown once, he hurried there half a dozen +times; while Laurie, seated beside the driver of a rickety +express-wagon, rounded up all kinds of things, from the platform at the +field-house to the cakes at Miss Comfort's. Dinner brought a respite; +but as soon as it was over, Laurie was back on the job, while Ned joined +the football-players. + +Of course, what the Hillman's School football team should have done that +afternoon was to score a decisive victory over the visiting eleven. What +it did do was to get thoroughly worsted. Loring was something of a +surprise, with a heavier line and a faster bunch of backs than Hillman's +had expected. And Loring knew a lot of football, and proved the fact +early in the game. At half-past two, by which time the second period was +half over, the result was a foregone conclusion. Loring had scored two +touch-downs and as many goals therefrom, and the Blue had never once +threatened the adversary's last white line. Gains through the opponent +were infrequent and short, even Pope, who could generally be depended on +to tear off a few yards when the worst came to the worst, failing +dismally. + +In mid-field, Mason and Slavin made some stirring advances around the +Loring wings, and there were several successful forward passes to the +home team's credit; but, once past Loring's thirty-yard line, Hillman's +seemed powerless. The third quarter went scoreless, and in the fourth, +realizing doubtless that defeat was certain, Coach Mulford used his +substitutes lavishly. Ned made his first appearance on the big team in +that period, taking Mason's place for some eight of the fifteen minutes. +He did neither better nor worse than the other second- and third-string +fellows, perhaps--although, when Pope was taken out and Deering +substituted at full-back, he did his share of the punting and performed +very creditably. But that fourth period gave Loring an opportunity to +add to her score, and she seized it. Even with several substitutes in +her own line-up, she was still far better than Hillman's, and a goal +from the field and, in the last few moments of the game, a third +touch-down, resulted. + +The Blue fought desperately and gamely with her back to the wall, in an +effort to stave off that last score; but eventually Holmes, who had +taken Kewpie's place at center, weakened, and the Loring back piled +through. The final score was 23 to 0, and what two hours before had been +looked on as a victory or, at the worst, a tie, had become a cataclysm! +Humiliated, if not disgraced, the home-team players trailed to the +field-house with hanging heads, averting their eyes from the sight of +Loring's triumphal march around the gridiron. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV--THE FETE + + +Behold Fairyland! + +Well, at least an excellent imitation of what Fairyland must look like. +Overhead, a clear, star-sprinkled sky; below, scores of gaily-hued +lanterns shedding their soft glow over a charming scene. Through the +side gate, please, on School Park. Twenty-five cents to the boy on duty +there, and you are inside, with the manifold attractions awaiting you. +On three sides of the transformed garden are the college booths, each +decked with bunting and flags of appropriate colors, and each presided +over by a patriotically attired young lady who will gladly, nay, +eagerly, sell you almost anything from a cake of soap ("Donated by the +Town Square Pharmacy, H. J. Congreve, Prop'r.") to a knitted sweater or +a gingham house-dress ("Compliments of The New York Store, High Class +Dry Goods"). Near at hand, Yale is represented by Miss Polly Deane, +capped and aproned in blue, her eyes sparkling and her voice sweetly +insistent: "Won't you buy something, please, sir? Post-cards, two for +five! These pictures are only fifty cents, all beautifully framed and +ready for hanging! Can I sell you something, ma'am?" + +Beyond, gay with orange and black, is the Princeton booth; and still +beyond, Dartmouth and Columbia and California; and then, a blur of +brilliant crimson through the leafage, Harvard. And so on all around the +garden, with merry voices sounding above the chatter of the throng that +moves here and there. Down the center of Fairyland runs a leafy tunnel +from within which blue and red and yellow and green rays twinkle. There, +under the hanging lanterns, little tables and chairs are dotted on the +gravel, and half a dozen aproned youths are busy bearing, not always +without mishap, plates of salad and rolls and dishes of ice-cream and +cake. Close to the back of the house is a platform illumined by a row of +electric lights, the one glaring spot in the area of soft radiance. + +"How's it going?" asked a heavily-built youth of a slimmer one who had +paused at the entrance to the arbor. + +"Hello, Kewpie! Oh, bully, so far. We took in eighty-four dollars this +afternoon, and we'll do at least twice as well to-night. They're still +coming. Have you seen Whipple anywhere?" + +"Yes, a minute ago, down at the Pennsylvania booth. She's a mighty +pretty girl, too, Nod. I bought a pocket-knife of her for a quarter, and +got stung; but I don't mind. I'm going back to get another pretty soon. +When do I have to sing again?" + +"You follow Wilson's clog-dance. We're switching you and Cheesman, +Kewpie. His stuff is corking, but it's pretty high-brow, and we thought +you'd better bring up the end and make the audience feel cheerful." + +"All right; but it won't feel very cheerful if those orchestra guys +don't do better than they did this afternoon. They were four or five +notes behind me once! Nid said you had a new stunt this +evening--something you left out this afternoon." + +"Yes; we couldn't work it in daylight very well. It ought to go fine +to-night, though." + +"What is it?" + +"You wait and see. I've got to find Whipple. Say, if you see Ned, tell +him I'll be at the platform in five minutes and want him to meet me +there. Everybody keeps getting lost here!" + +On the way past the arbor, Laurie ran into George Watson, returning +across lots balancing a couple of plates in one hand and holding a large +slab of cake in the other, from which he nibbled as he went. "Hello!" he +said, none too distinctly. "I've been looking for you." + +"Wanted to bring me refreshments, I suppose." + +George looked at the empty plates, laughed, and shook his head. "Not +exactly. I've been feeding Cornell. Somebody ought to take eats to those +girls, Nod; they're starving!" + +"All right; you do it." + +"What do you think I am? A millionaire? I bought Mae a salad and an +ice-cream, and I'm about broke. Lend me a half, will you? Thanks. Want +an ice-cream? I'll treat." + +"No, thanks. Have you seen Dan Whipple?" + +"Sure! He's over at the Pennsylvania booth, buying it out! Say, +everything's going great, isn't it? Couldn't have had a finer evening, +either, what? Well, see you later. I'm hungry!" And George continued his +way to the house, where Miss Tabitha, surrounded by willing and hungry +helpers, presided sternly, but most capably, over the refreshments. + +At eight o'clock the boy on duty at the entrance estimated the +attendance as close to two hundred, which, added to the eighty-six paid +admissions before supper, brought the total close to the first estimate +of three hundred. It is safe to say that every Hillman's boy attended +the fête either in the afternoon or evening, and that most of the +faculty came and brought Mrs. Faculty--when there was a Mrs. Faculty. +Doctor Hillman was spied by Laurie purchasing a particularly useless and +unlovely article in burnt wood from the auburn-haired Miss Hatch. Every +one seemed to be having a good time, and the only fly in the ointment of +the committee was the likelihood that the refreshments would be +exhausted far too soon. + +The Weather Man had kindly provided an evening of exceptional warmth, +with scarcely enough breeze to sway the paper lanterns that glowed from +end to end of the old garden, an evening so warm that ice-cream was more +in demand than sandwiches or salad; and fortunately so, since ice-cream +was the one article of refreshment that could be and was replenished. +If, said Ned, folks would stick to ice-cream and go light on the other +refreshments, they might get through. To which Laurie agreed, and Ned +hied him to the telephone and ordered another freezer sent up. + +At a few minutes after eight the Banjo and Mandolin Club took possession +of the chairs behind the platform and dashed into a military march. +Following that, six picked members of the Gymnastic Club did some very +clever work, and Cheesman, a tall and rather soulful-looking upper +middler, sang two ballads very well indeed, and then, as an encore, +quite took the joy out of life with "Suwanee River"! Little Miss +Comfort, present through the courtesy of the Committee on Arrangements, +sniffled quite audibly, but was heard to declare that "it was just too +sweet for anything!" A rather embarrassed junior attempted some card +tricks that didn't go very well, and then Wilson, garbed more or less in +the character of an Irish gentleman returning from Donnybrook Fair, and +swinging a shillaly, did some jig-dancing that was really clever and won +much applause. + +There was a brief unofficial intermission while three anxious committee +members made search for Kewpie Proudtree. He was presently discovered +consuming his fourth plate of ice-cream in the seclusion of the side +porch, and was haled away, protesting, to the platform. In spite of what +may seem an over-indulgence in refreshment, Kewpie was in excellent +voice and a jovial mood, and sang four rollicking songs in a manner that +captured his audience. In fact, long after Kewpie had vanished from the +public gaze and returned to his ice-cream, the audience still demanded +more. + +Its attention was eventually captured, however, by Dan Whipple, who +announced importantly that it gave him much pleasure to say that, at a +great expense, the committee had secured as an added attraction the +world-famed Signor Duodelli, who, with their kind permission, would +exhibit for their pleasure and astoundment his miraculous act known as +the Vanishing Man, as performed before the crowned heads of Europe, to +the bewilderment and applause of all beholders. "Ladies and gentlemen, +Signor Duodelli!" + +The Signor had a noticeable likeness to Lew Cooper, in spite of his +gorgeous mustache and flowing robe of red and purple cheese-cloth. Yet +it might not have been Lew, for his manner was extremely foreign and his +gestures and the few words he used in directing the arranging of his +"properties" were unmistakably Latin. The properties consisted of a +kitchen chair, a threefold screen covered with black baize, and a coil +of rope. There was also in evidence a short wand, but the Signor held +that in his hand, waving it around most eloquently. The audience laughed +and applauded and waited patiently until the chair had been placed +exactly to the Signor's liking, close to the back of the platform, and +the screen beside it. Previously several of the lights had been put out, +and those that remained threw their glare on the front of the stage, +leaving the back, while discernible, less in evidence. + +"Now," announced the Signor, narrowly escaping from falling off the +platform as he tripped over his robe, "I aska da some one coma up and +giva da help. Any one I aska. You, Signor, maybe, eh?" The magician +pointed his wand at Mr. Cornish, in the front of the clustered audience; +but the gentleman laughingly declined. The Signor seemed disappointed. +"No-o-o? You no geta da hurt. Some one else, eh?" He looked invitingly +around, and a small junior, urged by his companions, struggled to the +front. Unfortunately for his ambitions to pose in the lime-light, the +Signor's glance had moved to another quarter, and, ere the junior could +get his attention, a volunteer appeared from the semi-obscurity of the +kitchen porch. He was peculiarly attired, wearing a simple white garment +having a strong resemblance to the old-fashioned night-shirt, that +covered him completely from neck to ankles. He was bareheaded, revealing +the fact that his locks were red-brown in hue. + +"Ah!" exclaimed the Signor, delightedly. "You will helpa me, _si_? Right +thisa way, Signor. I thanka you!" + +"That's one of the Turner fellows," muttered a boy, while the small +junior and his companions called "Fake!" loudly. However, the +good-natured laughter of the audience drowned the accusation, and some +two hundred pairs of eyes watched amusedly and expectantly while, with +the assistance of two other volunteers, the youth in the white robe was +tied securely to the chair. + +"Maka him tight," directed the Signor, enthusiastically, waving his +wand. "Pulla da knot. Ha, thata da way! Good! Signors, I thanka you!" + +The two who had tied the victim to the chair retired from the platform. +The Signor seized the screen and opened it wide and turned it around and +closed it and turned it again. + +"You seea?" he demanded. "There is nothing that deceive! Now, then, I +placea da screen so!" He folded it around the boy and the chair, leaving +only the side away from the audience uncovered. He drew away the width +of the platform, and, "Music, ifa you please," he requested. The +orchestra, whose members had moved their chairs to one side, struck up a +merry tune, and the Signor, folding his arms, bent a rapt gaze on the +blank, impenetrable blackness of the screen. A brief moment passed. Then +the Signor bade the music cease, took a step forward, and pointed to the +screen. + +"Away!" he cried, and swung his arm in a half-circle, his body following +with a weird flaring of his brilliant robes until, with outstretched +finger, he faced the audience. "Ha! He come! Thisa way, Signor! Comea +quick!" + +As one man the audience turned and followed the pointing finger. Through +the deserted arbor came a boy in a white garment. He pushed his way +through the throng and jumped to the stage. As he did so, the Signor +whisked aside the screen. There was the chair empty, and there was the +rope dangling from it, twisted and knotted. + +A moment of surprised silence gave place to hearty applause. +Theoretically it might have been possible for the boy in the chair to +vanish from behind the screen, reach the farther end of the garden, and +run back into sight; but actually, as the audience realized on second +thought, it couldn't possibly have been done in the few seconds, surely +not more than ten, that had elapsed between the placing of the screen +and the appearance of the boy behind them. And then, how had he got +himself free from the rope? An audience likes to be puzzled, and this +one surely was. The garden hummed with conjecture and discussion. There +were some there who could have explained the seeming phenomenon, but +they held their counsel. + +Meanwhile, on the platform the Signor was modestly bowing alternately to +the audience and to his subject, the latter apparently no worse for his +magic transposition. And the orchestra again broke into its interrupted +melody. The applause became insistent, but Signor Duodelli, perhaps +because his contract with the committee called for no further evidence +of his powers, only bowed and bowed and at last disappeared into the +obscurity of the shadows. Whereupon the Banjo and Mandolin Club moved +into the house, and presently the strains of a one-step summoned the +dancers to the big drawing-room. + +Laurie, unconsciously rubbing a wrist, smiled as he listened to the +comments of the dissolving audience. "Well, but there's no getting +around the fact that it was the same boy," declared a pompous little +gentleman to his companion. "Same hair and eyes and everything! Couldn't +be two boys as much alike, eh? Not possibly! Very clever!" + +Laurie chuckled as he made his way to Polly's booth. That young lady +looked a little tired, and, by the same token, so did the Yale booth! +Only a bare dozen framed pictures and a small number of post-cards +remained of her stock. "Don't you think I've done awfully well?" asked +Polly, a trifle pathetically. She seemed to need praise, and Laurie +supplied it. + +"Corking, Polly," he assured her. "I guess you've sold more than any of +the others, haven't you?" + +"N-no, I guess some of the others have done better, Nod; but I think +they had more attractive articles, don't you? Anyhow, I've taken in +twelve dollars and thirty cents since supper, and I made four dollars +and eighty-five cents this afternoon; only I must have dropped a dime +somewhere, for I'm ten cents short. Or perhaps someone didn't give me +the right amount." + +"Why, that's seventeen dollars!" exclaimed Laurie. "I didn't think you +had anywhere near seventeen dollars' worth of things here, Polly!" + +"Oh, I didn't! Not nearly! Why, if I'd sold things at the prices marked +on them, Nod, I wouldn't have had more than half as much! But lots of +folks _wanted_ to pay more, and I let them. Mr. Conklin, the jeweler, +bought a picture, one of the funny landscapes with the frames that +didn't fit at the corners, and he said it was ridiculous to sell it for +a quarter, and he gave me a dollar for it. Then he held the picture up +and just laughed and laughed at it! I guess he just wanted to spend his +money, don't you? You know, Ned said we were to get as much as we could +for things, so I usually added ten cents to the price that was marked on +them--sometimes more, if a person looked extravagant. One lady came back +and said she'd paid twenty-five cents for a picture and it was marked +fifteen on the back. I said I was sorry she was dissatisfied and I'd be +very glad to buy it back from her for twenty." + +Laurie laughed. "What did she say to that?" he asked. + +"She said if I wanted it bad enough to pay twenty cents for it she +guessed it was worth twenty-five, and went off and didn't come back." +Polly laughed and then sighed. "I'm awfully tired. Doesn't that music +sound lovely? Do you dance?" + +Laurie shook his head. "No; but, say, if you want to go in there, I'll +watch the booth for you." + +Polly hesitated. "It's funny you don't," she said. "Don't you like it?" + +It was Laurie's turn to hesitate. "No, not much. I never have danced. +It--it seems sort of silly." He looked at Polly doubtfully. Although he +wouldn't have acknowledged it, he was more than half sorry that dancing +was not included among his accomplishments. + +"It isn't silly at all," asserted Polly, almost indignantly. "You ought +to learn. Mae could teach you to one-step in no time at all!" + +"I guess that's about the way I'd do it," answered Laurie, sadly--"in no +time at all! Don't you--couldn't _you_ teach a fellow?" + +"I don't believe so. I never tried to teach any one. Besides, Mae dances +lots better than I do. She put the things she had left on Grace +Boswell's booth and went inside the minute the music started. She wanted +me to come, but I thought I shouldn't," added Polly, virtuously. + +"You go ahead now," urged Laurie. "I'll stay here till you come back. It +isn't fair for you girls to miss the dancing. Besides, I guess there +won't be much more sold now. Folks have begun to go, some of them, and +most of the others are inside." + +Polly looked toward the house. Through the big wide-open windows the +lilting music of a waltz floated out. The Banjo and Mandolin Club was +really doing very well to-night. Polly sighed once and looked wistful. +Then she shook her head. "Thanks, Nod," she said, "but I guess I'll stay +here. Some one _might_ come." + +"What do you care? You don't own 'em! Anyway, I guess I could sell a +post-card if I had to!" + +"You'd have trouble selling any of those pictures," laughed Polly. +"Aren't they dreadful? Where did they come from?" + +"Pretty fierce," Laurie agreed. "They came from the Metropolitan +Furniture Store. The man dug them out of a corner in the cellar. I guess +he'd had them for years! Anyway, there was enough dust on them to choke +you. He seemed awfully tickled when we agreed to take them and let him +alone!" + +"I should think he might have! We girls agreed to buy things from each +other, just to help, but the only things they bought from me were +post-cards!" Polly laughed as though at some thought; and Laurie, who +had elevated himself to an empty corner of the booth and was swinging +his feet against the blue draping in front, looked inquiringly. "I was +just thinking about the boys," explained Polly. + +"What about them? What boys do you mean?" Laurie asked coldly. + +"The high school boys. They're awfully peeved because we girls took part +in this, and not one of them has been here, I guess." + +"Cheeky beggars," grumbled Laurie. "Guess we can do without them, +though. Here comes Bob's father." + +Mr. Starling was bent on a most peculiar mission. Laurie and Polly +watched him stop at the next booth and engage in conversation. Then a +fat pocket-book was produced, a bill was tendered, and Mr. Starling +strolled on. At the Yale booth he stopped again. + +"Well, Turner," he greeted, "this affair looks like a huge success, +doesn't it? Why aren't you young folks inside there, dancing?" + +"I don't dance, sir," answered Laurie, somewhat to his chagrin in a most +apologetic tone. "And Polly thinks she ought to stand by the ship. This +is Polly Deane, Mr. Starling." + +Bob's father shook hands cordially across the depleted counter and +assured its proprietor that he was very glad indeed to make her +acquaintance. Then he added: "But you don't seem to have much left, Miss +Polly. Now, I'm a great hand at a bargain. I dare say that if you made +me a fair price for what there is here I'd jump at it. What do you say?" + +Polly apparently didn't know just what to say for a minute, and her gaze +sought counsel of Laurie. + +"If you ask me," laughed the latter, "I'd say fifty cents was a big +price for the lot!" + +"You're not in charge," said Mr. Starling, almost severely. "I'm sure +the young lady has better business ability. Suppose you name a price, +Miss Polly." + +"We-ell--" Polly did some mental arithmetic, and then, doubtfully: "A +dollar and a half, sir," she said. + +"Done!" replied Mr. Starling. He drew forth a two-dollar bill. "There +you are! Just leave the things where they are. I'll look after them +later. Now you youngsters go in and dance. What's this? Change? My dear +young lady, don't you know that change is never given at an affair of +this kind? I really couldn't think of taking it. It--it's a criminal +offense!" And Mr. Starling nodded and walked away. + +"By Jove, he's a brick!" exclaimed Laurie, warmly. "Look, he's doing the +same thing everywhere!" + +"I know," answered Polly, watching. "It's just dear of him, isn't it? +But, Nod, _what_ do you suppose he will do with these awful pictures?" + +"The same thing he will do with that truck he's buying now," was the +laughing reply. "He will probably put them in the furnace!" + +"Well," said Polly, after a moment, "I suppose we might as well go +inside, don't you? We can look on, anyway, and"--with a stifled +sigh--"I'd 'most as lief look on as dance." + +Laurie followed, for the second time in his life wishing that the +Terpsichorean art had been included in his education! + + + + +CHAPTER XV--NED HAS AN IDEA + + +"Three hundred and thirty-three dollars and eighty-five cents," said +Ned, in very satisfied tones. "We took in three hundred and sixty-three +five, but we had twenty-nine twenty to come out for expenses. Not so +bad, what?" + +"But something tells me," answered Laurie, mournfully, "that if all our +expenses were deducted we'd have less than that. You see," he explained +to Polly, "I lost the piece of paper that I set down the money I paid +out on, and I just had to guess what it all came to, because I'd never +had time to add it up." + +"I dare say you guessed enough," replied Ned, untroubled. + +"I dare say I didn't, then!" was the indignant response. "If I did, +where's all the money I had when I started? I've got a dollar and ninety +cents left, and I had over four dollars when you roped me in on the +thing! I'm more than two dollars shy, I tell you!" + +"Oh, well, it's gone for a worthy cause," laughed Ned. + +"Maybe," Laurie grumbled, "but I notice that none of yours has gone that +way. You always made me pay for everything!" + +"Well, I think you did it beautifully," said Polly. "I never suspected +you'd make so much!" + +They were in the little garden behind the shop. It was the second day +after the fête, and the bell in the Congregational church tower had just +struck two. There was a perceptible nip in the air to-day, and the +flowers in the border showed blackened leaves, while the nasturtiums +were frankly limp and lifeless. But here in the sunshine it was warm +enough, and Laurie, spurning the bench, was seated tailor fashion on the +yellowing turf. Polly had stated her absolute certitude that he would +catch cold, but Laurie derided the idea. + +"We're awfully much obliged to you girls," said Ned. "We wouldn't have +done nearly so well if you hadn't helped. I think the committee ought to +give you a--a vote of thanks or something." + +"Oh, we all loved it!" Polly assured him earnestly. "We had heaps of +fun. Why, I wouldn't have missed that disappearing trick for anything. I +was positively thrilled when Laurie came running up the garden!" + +The boys' laughter interrupted, and Polly looked puzzled. + +"That wasn't Laurie," explained Ned. "That was me." + +"But I was sure you were the one in the chair! And if you were in the +chair, how could you--" + +"I wasn't, though. That was Laurie." + +Polly sighed despairingly. "I'll never get so I can tell you apart," she +said; "unless I hear you talk, that is! I don't see yet how it was done. +Won't you please tell me?" + +"It was as easy as easy," replied Ned. "You see, the way I planned it +first--" + +"The way _who_ planned it?" inquired Laurie. + +"Well, the way _we_ planned it, then." + +"Hold on! Whose idea was it in the first place, partner?" + +"Oh, don't be so fussy! Anyway, you couldn't have done it without me!" + +"I never said I could. But you've got a lot of cheek to talk about the +way _you--_" + +Polly clapped her hands to her ears. "I'm not being told how it was +done, and I do want to know. Go on, Ned." + +"Well, it was done like this. You see, Laurie was tied to the chair, and +I was hiding out at the other end of the garden. Then Lew Cooper put the +screen around the chair." Polly nodded. "Then I started toward the +platform, and every one turned to look at me." Polly nodded again. +"Well, right behind the platform was the bulkhead door into the cellar. +When Cooper shouted to me to come on, two fellows who were on the stairs +waiting pushed the door open, grabbed Laurie, chair and all, and whisked +him down cellar. Then they put another chair, just like the first one, +behind the screen, and when Cooper pulled the screen away, there it was, +just as if Laurie had somehow untied himself and--and vanished! Of +course, if any one had been looking at the screen instead of at me just +then, he might have seen what was going on, although it was pretty dark +behind there and he mightn't have. Anyway, no one was, I guess. The +trick depended on the--the faint similarity between us. Lots of fellows +who knew us were on to it, but the folks from the village were puzzled +for fair!" + +"Indeed they were," agreed Polly. "They just couldn't understand it at +all!" + +"It would have been better," mused Laurie, "if we could have taken the +screen away and showed the empty chair before Ned came into sight; but +there didn't seem to be any way of doing that. We had to have the people +looking the other way, and we had to work quick. As it was, I was half +killed, for Wainwright and Plummer were in such a hurry to get the other +chair up there that they just dumped me on my back! And then they ran +upstairs through the kitchen to see the end of it, and I was kicking +around down there for five minutes!" + +"Well," said Ned, a few minutes later, "I'm not finding out what to do +with this." He opened one hand and exposed some bills and two ten-cent +pieces folded into a wad. "Your mother says she won't take it, +Polly--that she didn't understand we were going to pay her for the +cream-puffs. Gee, we wouldn't have thought of asking her to make them +for nothing!" + +Polly nodded sympathetically. "Mother says, though, that the boys bring +so much trade to her that it's only fair for her to help them." + +"That's poppy-cock!" said Laurie. "Seven dollars and twenty cents is a +lot of money. Look here; don't you think she ought to take it, Polly?" + +Polly was silent a moment. Then she nodded affirmatively. "Yes, I do," +she said frankly. "She really needs the money, Ned. I wouldn't tell any +one else, but we're just frightfully hard up, and I wouldn't be a bit +surprised if Mother had to give up here before very long." + +"Give up!" exclaimed Ned. "You mean--go away?" + +"Yes. You see, she doesn't make very much money in the store; nothing +like she used to before the war sent prices so high. And then, what with +taxes and water and light, and the interest on the mortgage, why, it +hardly pays. Just the same, if she says she won't take the money, Ned, +why, I guess she won't, and that's all there is to it. But she ought +to!" + +"Can't she charge more for things?" asked Laurie. "Everyone else does +nowadays. That bake-shop down on Hudson Street gets eight cents for +cream-puffs and éclairs, and you sell them for six." + +"I know; but Mama says six cents is enough and that the boys oughtn't to +have to pay any more. And lots of things she sells for hardly any more +than she used to before prices advanced. Why, I have to watch all the +time; and when bills come in for things, I have to compare them with +what we're getting for them, and lots of times I find that Mama's been +selling for less than what she's paid! She just won't be a profiteer, +she says!" + +"Gee! I hope you don't have to shut up," said Laurie. He looked around +the little garden. "It--it's such a jolly place! And the house and +everything. Gee, that would be a shame!" + +Polly sighed while she nodded. "It is nice," she agreed; "but there are +so many things that ought to be done! Uncle Peter never would do much +for us. He did promise to have the house painted, but he died about a +month after that, and so it was never done." + +"Suppose he up and died so's he wouldn't have to do it?" inquired +Laurie, suspiciously. + +Polly shook her head and looked a trifle shocked, until she caught the +smile in Ned's eyes. + +"It doesn't look as if it would cost much money to paint it," remarked +Ned, looking up at the rear of the little two-and-a-half-story building. +"It's not much more than a doll's house, anyway. How many rooms are +there, Polly?" + +"Three upstairs, and then a sort of attic room under the roof; and two +downstairs." + +"Uh-huh. I just wondered. It wouldn't be much of a trick to paint the +outside. Bet you I could do it in a couple of days." + +Laurie gasped. "A couple of days! You? How do you get like that? It +would take a real painter a week to do it!" + +"Maybe; but I'm not a real painter," answered Ned, grinning. He glanced +at the crumpled wad in his hand and held it tentatively toward Polly. +"Maybe you'd better take charge of this, Polly, until we decide what to +do with it." + +But Polly put her hands resolutely behind her, and shook her head with +decision. "No, Ned, I'd rather not. If Mama says she won't have it, she +won't, and you might just as well give it back to the--the fund." + +Somewhat to Laurie's surprise, Ned pocketed the money without further +protest. "All right," he said. "It's very kind of your mother. We +mustn't forget to see that her name's included in the list of those who +donated things, Laurie. This week's 'Messenger' is going to tell all +about it. Well, I've got to pull my freight. You coming, partner?" + +"Yes, I guess so," replied Laurie, without much enthusiasm. "I promised +Bob and George to get another fellow and play some tennis this +afternoon." + +"Gee! it must be great to have nothing to do but play," sighed his +brother. + +"Huh, any one would think, to hear you talk, that you were working," +replied Laurie, crushingly. "All you do is stand around and watch the +others." + +"Think so?" Ned smiled in a superior way. "You come down this afternoon +and see how much standing around I do. Joe Stevenson says I've got to +practise goals now. Isn't that the limit?" + +"I suppose it pains him to see you loafing," said Laurie. "Anyway, I +dare say it'll keep you out of mischief." + +Laurie led the way to the back fence, against which leaned a plank with +two pieces of wood nailed across it. This afforded a short cut to and +from school, and was an idea of Bob's. From the top of the fence they +dropped into the shrubbery and then made their way to the side gate. + +The arbor had not yet been denuded of its evergreen clothing, and there +were other evidences of the recent festival in the shape of crumpled +paper napkins lying on the ground. Thomas had taken down the lanterns +and was packing them away in their case by the kitchen porch, and the +boys called a greeting to him as they passed. + +"Bob still mean to make a tennis-court here?" asked Ned, as they went +through the gate. + +"Yes. He's going to tear down that arbor right away, he says. So far, +though, he hasn't found any one to do the work on the court. Every one +is busy. I don't believe he will get it done in time to use it this +fall." + +"Of course he won't. It's nearly November now. Say, you'd better take +this money and hand it over to Whipple. You'll see him before I do. And +tell him to put Mrs. Deane's name down with the other folks who +contributed, will you?" + +"All right; but I think it's a shame to let her stand for all those +cakes." + +"So do I; only--" + +"Only what?" + +"Maybe we can make it up to her another way. I've got an idea, Laurie." + +"I hope it's better than most of 'em. What is it?" + +And when Ned had explained it, Laurie considered a long moment and then +indorsed it enthusiastically. "That's corking!" he cried. "For once, +Ned, the old bean has worked! Only, when could we--" + +"Christmas vacation," said Ned. "We won't have much to do then. What do +you say?" + +"I say that, for the first time in my life, Neddie, I'm proud to +acknowledge you as my twin!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI--POLLY TELLS A SPOOK STORY + + +Assured of sufficient funds to complete its season without financial +embarrassment, the Hillman's football team seemed to take a new and +firmer grip on things. Practice went well that week, and the players +showed vim and snap. Perhaps the colder weather helped, too. The line-up +that faced the scrubs on Friday for a short scrimmage was, barring +accidents, that which would, four weeks later, start the game against +Hillman's old rival, Farview Academy. Farley and White were at the ends, +Captain Stevenson and Pringle were the tackles, Emerson and Corson were +the guards, and Kewpie Proudtree was at center. Frank Brattle at +quarter, Mason and Slavin for halves, and Pope at full-back composed the +rest of the team. There were some weak places, to be sure; but, on the +whole, Coach Mulford was fairly satisfied that he had the parts for a +capable machine. + +Ned was still playing on the scrub eleven, and doing rather well. As a +punter, at least, he deserved his position at left half, and it might be +that he would develop into a fair goal-kicker; for in the last four +days, under the tuition of the coach and full-back Pope, he had shown +excellent promise. Those morning lessons, now abandoned, had grounded +Ned well in the art of toeing the pigskin, and, whatever fame the future +might hold for him as punter or drop-kicker or place-kicker, much of the +credit would be Kewpie's. + +To-day, in the second ten minutes of the scrimmaging,--there was but +twenty minutes in all,--Thursby, playing quarter, and probably acting +under instructions, gave Ned his first chance to show what he could do +in the way of field goals. Unable to reach a point nearer than twenty +yards to the school team's goal, Thursby called for "kick formation, +Turner back," and Ned went up-field with his heart in his mouth. +Although the cross-bar was less than thirty yards from where he took his +stand and almost directly in front of him, it looked to Ned to be a +woeful distance away and the angle much more severe than it was. But he +didn't have much time for reflection, for Thursby called his signal +quickly, and the leather came back to him at a good pass, and the school +team was crashing through. + +Ned always thought that he closed his eyes when he swung his toe against +the rebounding ball and trusted to luck, but I doubt it, for the pigskin +described a perfect arc and went well and true over the bar, and if Ned +had had his eyes closed I don't believe the pigskin would have acted +that way at all. Most of the scrub team players thumped him on the back +and showed their delight in other ways, for they had not scored on the +school team for nearly a week; while, at a little distance, Coach +Mulford nodded his head almost imperceptibly. It was too bad Ned didn't +see that nod, for it would have pleased him far more than the buffets of +his team-mates. + +The next day Hillman's made a trip to Warring and played the Lansing +team to a standstill, returning with a 22-0 victory tucked under its +belt. Ned got into the game for a bare five minutes at the last, as did +half a dozen other substitutes; but he was not called on to kick any +goals, for which he was at once sorry and glad. To have had the eyes of +nearly a thousand persons on him would, he thought, have precluded any +possibility of success; but, on the other hand, had he succeeded--He +sighed for lost opportunities! + +The attendance that afternoon was a matter of great joy to Manager Dave +Murray, for Hillman's went home with a neat sum as its share of the +day's profits, a sum far larger than he had counted on--large enough, in +fact, to make up the difference between the net receipts from the fête +and the three hundred and fifty dollars aimed at. + +Hillman's good fortune held for another week. There were no accidents +during practice; every fellow in the line-up played for all that was in +him; and the scrubs took a licking every afternoon. Ned twice more +gained glory as a drop-kicker, although on a third occasion he failed +lamentably. Unfortunately, neither of his successes brought victory to +his team, since the opponents had on each occasion a safe lead in the +scoring. Every afternoon, following the scrimmage, Ned was presented by +the coach with a nice battle-scarred football, and instructed to go down +to the east goal and "put some over." Sometimes Hop Kendrick or Ben +Thursby went with him to hold the ball while he tried placement-kicks, +and always an unhappy substitute was delegated to retrieve the pigskin +for him; but the coach let him pretty much alone, and Pope looked on +only occasionally and was surprisingly sparing of comment or advice. And +yet, Ned improved, rather to his surprise, since he felt himself +neglected and, as he said to Laurie, didn't see how they expected a +fellow to learn goal-kicking if they didn't show him a little! But, +although he didn't realize it, Ned had reached a point in his +development where he was best left to his own devices, and Coach Mulford +knew it and forbore to risk confusing him with unnecessary instruction. +So Ned pegged away doggedly, and got results, as he considered, in spite +of the coach! + +Against the Queens Preparatory Institute, which journeyed up from the +city on Saturday, the Blue was able to emerge from four grueling +fifteen-minute periods with the score 6-6, from the Blue's standpoint a +very satisfactory showing, for Q. P. I. was a much-heralded team and had +downed stronger elevens than Hillman's. So November began its second +week, and cloudy days and not infrequently rainy ones took the place of +the sunny weather of October. + +Laurie would have been somewhat at a loss for a way in which to spend +his afternoons at that time, had it not been for Bob Starling's +overmastering desire to build a tennis-court in the garden of the +Coventry place. The weather was far too cold for tennis, although now +and then he and Bob played George and Lee Murdock, and the wrecking of +the old grape-arbor, preparatory to digging up the sod, proved a welcome +diversion. Sometimes Thomas took a hand; but Thomas had plenty to do +indoors, and the work was accomplished almost wholly by Bob and Laurie, +with the occasional moral support of George or Lee. + +Usually an hour's labor with hammer or crowbar ended with an adjournment +to the Widow Deane's, by way of the back fence, for refreshments. +Sometimes it was warm enough to foregather in the little garden behind +the shop and, armed with cream-puffs or tarts, spend a jolly half-hour +in the society of Polly and Mae. At such times Mrs. Deane, hearing the +shouts and laughter, came to the back door and smiled in sympathy. + +One glorious afternoon of mingled sunlight and frost there was an +excursion afoot out into the country in search of nuts. Polly and Mae +and Laurie and George and Bob and Lee formed the party. They carried two +baskets, one of which George wore on his head most of the way, to the +wonderment of the infrequent passers. Mae knew, or thought she knew, +where there were chestnut trees, and led the way for three miles to what +is called Two Jug Ridge. The chestnut trees, however, were, according to +Laurie, away for the afternoon. They found some hickory nuts, not quite +ready to leave their husks, and a few beech-nuts, and after gathering +those they sat on a broad, flat boulder and looked down on Orstead and +Little Windsor and some twelve miles of the Hudson River, and talked a +good deal of nonsense--all except Lee, who went to sleep with his cap +pulled over his eyes, and had a cold in his head for days after. George +decided that when he was through college and was married, he would come +back there and build a bungalow just where they were seated. + +"This will do for the front door-step," he expounded, "and over there +will be a closed-in porch with an open fireplace and a Gloucester +hammock." + +"That all you're going to have?" asked Bob. "No kitchen?" + +"Oh, there'll be a kitchen, all right, and a dining-room--no, I guess +we'll eat on the porch. Wouldn't it be a dandy place, though? Look at +the view!" + +"Fine," said Laurie, without much enthusiasm, remembering the last +uphill mile. "Don't mind if I don't come to see you often, though, do +you?" + +"Not a bit! Nobody asked you, anyway." + +"You could live on nuts," murmured Polly, "and could have shaggy-barks +for breakfast and beech-nuts for dinner and--" + +"Grape-nuts for supper," said Laurie, coming to the rescue. + +"And you could call the place the Squirrel-Cage," suggested Bob. + +And that reminded Mae of a story her father had told of a man who had +lived in the woods farther down the river some years before, and who ate +nothing but nuts and things he found in the forest. "He lived all alone +in a little cabin he'd built, and folks said he was a deserter from the +army, and--" + +"What army?" George asked. + +"The Northern Army, of course." + +"I thought you might mean the Salvation Army. Then this was quite awhile +ago, wasn't it?" + +"Of course, stupid! Years and years ago. And finally, when he died, +folks found that he wasn't a deserter at all, but a general or a major +or something, and they found a prize that the government had given him, +some sort of a medal for bravery in battle. Wasn't that sad?" + +"Well," replied Laurie, doubtfully, "I suppose it was. I suppose the +government would have shown better judgment if they'd given him a bag of +nuts. Of course, he couldn't eat that medal!" + +"You're horrid! Anyway, it just shows that you mustn't judge folks +by--by outward appearances, doesn't it?" + +"Rather! I've always said that, too. Take George, for example. Just to +look at him, you'd never think he had any sense at all; but at times--" + +"Lay off of George," interrupted that young gentleman, threateningly. +"If folks judged you by the way you talk, you'd be inside a nice high +wall!" + +Why the talk should have drifted from there to the subject of ghosts and +uncanny happenings isn't apparent, but it did. In the midst of it, Lee +gave a tremendous snore that scared both the girls horribly, and sat up +suddenly, blinking. "Hello!" he muttered. Then he yawned and grinned +foolishly. "Guess I must have dropped off," he said apologetically. + +"You didn't," said George. "If you had you'd have waked up quicker! Cut +out the chatter; Polly's telling a spook yarn." + +Lee gathered up a handful of beech-nuts and was silent except for the +sound he made in cracking the shells. + +"It isn't much of a story," disclaimed Polly, "but it--it _was_ funny. +It began just after Mama and I came here. I mean, that was the first +time. One night, after we had gone to bed, Mama called me. 'I think +there's some one downstairs, Polly,' she whispered. We both listened, +and, sure enough, we could hear a sort of tapping sound. It wasn't like +footsteps, exactly; more--more hollow, as if it came from a long way +off. But it sounded right underneath. We listened a minute or two, and +then it stopped and didn't begin again; and presently we lighted a +candle and went downstairs, and nobody was there and everything was +quite all right. So we thought that perhaps what we'd heard was some one +walking along the street. + +"We didn't hear it again for nearly two weeks, and then it lasted +longer--maybe two minutes. It got louder; and stopped, and began again, +and died away; and we sat there and listened, and I thought of ghosts +and everything except robbers, because it didn't sound like any one in +the store. It was more as if it was some one in the cellar." + +"Well, maybe it was," suggested Laurie, when Polly paused. + +"That's what we thought, Nod, until we went to see. Then we remembered +that there wasn't any cellar!" + +"Oh!" said Laurie. + +"What happened then?" asked Lee, flicking a shell at George. + +"It kept on happening every little while for two years. We got so we +didn't think any more about it. Mr. Farmer, the lawyer, said what we +heard was probably a rat. But I know very well it wasn't that. It was +too regular. It was always just the same each time. At first we could +just hear it a little, and then it grew louder and louder, and stopped. +And then it began again, loud, and just sort of--of trailed off till you +couldn't hear it at all. I suppose we never would have heard it if it +hadn't been for Mama not sleeping very well, because it always came +after midnight, usually about half-past twelve. After a while I didn't +hear it at all, because Mama stopped waking me up." + +"Spooks," declared George, with unction. "The house is haunted, Polly." + +"Wish I lived there," said Bob eagerly. "I'm crazy about ghosts. They +told me that old Coven--I mean your uncle, Polly--haunted the house +we're in; but, gee! I've been around at all times of night and never +seen a thing! There are lots of jolly, shivery noises--stairs creaking, +and woodwork popping, and all that, you know; but nary a ghost. Look +here, Polly! Let me sit down in the store some night, will you? I'd love +to!" + +"You've got funny ideas of fun," murmured George. + +"Oh, but it's gone now," said Mae. "Hasn't it, Polly? You haven't heard +the noise for a long time, have you?" + +"No, not for--oh, two years, I think. At least, that's what Mama says. +Maybe, though, she sleeps better and doesn't hear things." + +"I guess Mr. What's-his-name was right," said Lee. "It was probably a +rat, or a family of rats." + +"Rats wouldn't make the same sound every time," scoffed Laurie. + +"They might. Trained rats might. Maybe they escaped from a circus." + +"And maybe you escaped from an asylum," responded Laurie, getting up. +"Let's take him home before he gets violent." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII--LAURIE MAKES A PROTEST + + +The football team continued to add victories, and as the fateful 20th of +November approached enthusiasm grew until, after the Whittier game, +which Hillman's won by a field goal in the final hectic two minutes, it +became more a furore than enthusiasm. Ned, by that time, had settled +down to a realization that, no matter what progress he made this fall, +no matter how adept he became at kicking a football down the field or +over the cross-bar, he would not make the first team; that, in short, he +was being educated as next year material. There was no injustice in +this, and he realized it; for, aside from his proficiency as a kicker, +he was not in the class with the school team backs. He couldn't worm his +way through a hole in the opposing line the way Slavin could, nor smash +through the defense the way Mason did, nor dodge and side-step in a +broken field like Pope. Once going, Ned was rather hard to stop, for he +displayed some of the slippery qualities of an eel; but it took him ten +yards to get his speed up, and the opponents had a discouraging way of +getting through and flooring him before the tenth yard was won! But he +had grown to love the game, and no one toiled more conscientiously. +There were times when Laurie devoutly wished that Ned hadn't taken up +the game, for after a half-hour of Ned's chatter Laurie found the +subject of football a trifle dull. + +On the Wednesday before the Farview contest the Orstead High School team +came over for a practice game. At least, Hillman's called it a practice +game and considered it such; but High School had blood in her eye and +was secretly determined to wreak all the vengeance possible. Once a +year, for the space of some three hours, Orstead High School swore +allegiance to Hillman's and turned out at the field and rooted valiantly +for the Blue while she battled with Farview. But all the rest of the +time she was frankly hostile and derisive. This Wednesday afternoon the +hostility was apparent from the first. More than a hundred boys and a +scattering of girls followed their team to the Hillman's field and +demanded revenge for the early-season defeat, while the High School +team, which had passed through a rather successful season and was not at +all the aggregation that the Blue had beaten 10 to 7, started right out +after it. + +Coach Mulford began with his first-string players, and against them High +School was not dangerous, although there were anxious moments. The +second period ended with the score 7--0 in Hillman's favor, only a +fumble by Slavin on High School's eight yards saving the visitor from a +second touch-down. When the third quarter began, Coach Mulford put in +nearly a new eleven, only Kewpie Proudtree, Farley, Mason, and Pope +remaining over. Perhaps the High School coach had talked new strength +and determination into his charges during the intermission, for the +visitors started in on the second half in whirlwind fashion. The Blue +kicked off, and High School's quarter got the ball on his +twenty-five-yard line and scampered back to the thirty-five before he +was laid low by Farley, the Blue's left end. From there, with fierce +slams at Hillman's right and two short forward passes over the center of +the line, High School reached the opponent's thirty-two. There an +off-side penalty set her back, and, after two attempts at rushing that +produced but three yards, she kicked to the five-yard line. Kendrick +fumbled the catch, but recovered and was downed on his ten. Pope punted +on second down to mid-field, and from there High School started another +slashing advance that took her to the thirty-four yards before she was +halted. + +On the side-lines, the High School supporters were shouting and +beseeching and banners were waving deliriously. A tow-haired full-back, +who had all along proved the visitor's best ground-gainer, smashed +through the Hillman's left for two yards; and then, on fourth down, +faking a kick, he set off on a romp around the adversary's right. +Lightner, the second-string end, was effectually boxed, and the runner, +turning wide, was off down the field at top speed. Only Hop Kendrick +stood between him and the goal-line, and Hop waited on the fifteen +yards, wary and alert. The tow-haired boy's feint to the right didn't +fool him, and when the side-stepping to the left began, Hop was on him +with a clean dive and a hard tackle, and the two rolled to earth +together. But the ball was on the thirteen yards now, and it was first +down for High School, and the latter was not to be denied. A plunge off +tackle took the pigskin in front of the goal, though there was no gain. +Hillman's piled up an attack at right guard. On third down, High School +called for kick formation, and the tow-haired terror dropped back. + +From the side of the gridiron, Hillman's rooters chanted: "Block that +kick! Block that kick!" But there was no kick to block, for the +full-back only backed away a pace or two when the pigskin reached him, +and then tossed to the corner of the field and to the eager hands of an +uncovered right end who had but to make three strides before he was over +the line. Hop got him then; but the damage was done, and the visitors +lining the gridiron were cheering and cavorting wildly. The kick was +from a difficult angle, but the tow-haired player made it, and the score +was tied. + +The teams changed fields a minute later. Undismayed, Coach Mulford sent +in three new substitutes, one of them in place of Pope. Hillman's got +the ball in mid-field on a fumble, and set off for the adversary's goal; +but the new players were not able to make much headway, and Deering, who +had taken Pope's place, punted. The effort landed the ball on High +School's thirty-seven, and her quarter ran it back eight more before he +was stopped. Three tries at the line netted seven yards, and the visitor +punted to Hop Kendrick on his eighteen. This time Hop hugged the ball +hard and set off along the far side of the gridiron at a smart pace. +Fortunately for him, one High School end overran. The other challenged, +but missed his tackle. By that time a hasty interference had formed, +and, guarded by Mason and Lightner, Hop reached his forty before +misfortune overtook him. There a High School tackle crashed through the +interference and nailed him hard. + +But that twenty-yard sprint had brought new vim to the Blue's novices, +and new confidence, and from their forty yards they began a fast, hard +attack that placed High School with her back to the wall almost before +she realized it. If the substitutes lacked the experience and brawn of +the first-choice players, they at least had sand and speed. And they had +a quarter-back who was earnest and grim and determined, and who, sensing +that the opponent was weary, realized that speed, and a lot of it, was +the one thing that could save the day. And so Hop proved his right to +his nickname that afternoon. Hop he did, and so did his team. Signals +were fairly shot into the air, and there was no longer any time between +plays for High School to recover her breath. Twice, with plunges at the +right of the visitor's line and runs outside her tackles, Hillman's made +her distance and the pigskin rested on the thirty-six yards. + +So far the Blue had attempted but three forward passes, of which only +one had succeeded. Now, from position, Hop threw straight over the +center, and somehow Lightner was there and pulled it down, although the +enemy was clustered around him thick. That seven-yard gain was made ten +when Deering was poked through the center, ten a little more, for the +ball was down on High School's twenty-four-yard line. The game that had +been proclaimed a practice event for the purpose of seasoning the +substitutes against Saturday's contest had developed within the last +half-hour into a battle to the death. Outside the gridiron the opposing +factions hurled defiant cheers at each other and rooted as they had not +rooted all the season. On the field the rivalry was even more intense, +and black looks and hard knocks were the order. + +High School, sparring for time, administered to a breathless right +guard, and then drew into a bunch for a whispered conference, while +Hillman's supporters hooted derisively. Deering gained three and Boessel +two more. High School ran two substitutes on, and, after the next play, +two more. An old-fashioned criss-cross sent Mason around his own right +end for eight yards and planted the ball just short of the ten-yard +line. Mason gave place to Beedle. A slide off tackle centered the +pigskin and gained a scant yard. Deering struck center for a yard loss, +and Lightner was caught off-side. The ball went back to the seventeen +yards. + +High School was playing desperately and her line had stiffened. Beedle +gave way to Ned after that second down, and Ned had his instructions. +The ball was in front of High School's goal, and from the seventeen +yards a field goal was an easy proposition if the opponents could be +held away from the kicker. Perhaps Hop Kendrick didn't realize why Ned +had been sent in, or perhaps he thought better of his own judgment. +Since by the rules Ned could not communicate the instructions from the +coach until after the following play, he could only look his surprise +when Hop failed to call him back to kicking position. Farley, captain in +Stevenson's absence, seemed to be on the point of protesting, and even +took a step toward the quarter-back; but he evidently reconsidered, for +he returned to his position at the end of the line, and the starting +signal followed. + +The play was a fake attack on the right, with Boessel carrying the ball +to the left inside of tackle, and it worked to perfection. High School, +over-anxious, stormed to the defense of her threatened right side, and +Boessel, with Ned hanging at his flank as far as the five-yard line, +where the earth suddenly rose up and smote him, romped over the line for +the last and deciding touch-down, while the Blue cohorts went fairly +wild with delight. + +On the side-line, Coach Mulford turned to Joe Stevenson. "What do you +think of Kendrick?" he asked, smiling. + +"I'd kiss him if I had him here," answered Joe, grinning joyously. "I +call him one sweet little quarter, Coach!" + +"Well, this was his day, all right," mused the other; "I hope he will +show up as well Saturday. Now we'll see whether Turner can kick a goal. +He's been doing some good work in practice, but he looks scared to death +and will probably miss it by a mile." + +And Ned _was_ scared, too. He tried to steady his nerves by assuring +himself that, whether he made it or missed it, the Blue had won the +game, and that consequently a failure made little difference. But the +silence of his schoolmates and the "booing" of the visiting rooters +affected him badly. To Hop, holding the ball from the turf, it seemed +that Ned would never have done pointing it. And so it seemed to the +onlookers. Never was a kicker more deliberate. But at last Hop heard a +faint "Down!" and drew his fingers from beneath the oval and waited an +anxious moment. Then there was a clean, hard _thud_, and the +quarter-back, watching its flight, saw the pigskin rise lazily, end over +end, and go straight and high over the bar. + +And he might have heard Ned's loud sigh of relief, had not the pounding +of the charging enemy and the cries of the Hillman's horde drowned it. + +Another kick-off and four plays ended the contest, and High School, +after cheering half-heartedly, went off disgruntled and silent. + +On his way to the field-house, Ned, trotting along with Hop, encountered +Polly and Mae in the throng, and paused to speak. "Bully game, wasn't +it?" he said. Then, seeing Mae's High School banner, he added: "High +School put up a dandy fight, Mae." + +"Indeed she did," agreed Mae. "I thought once she was going to win, +too." + +Polly was laughing. "Poor Mae didn't know which team she wanted to win," +she explained. "When High School gained she waved her flag, and when +Hillman's gained she waved it just the same. She was waving it all the +time! That was a lovely goal you made, Nid." + +"Thanks. I--well, I was so scared I didn't know whether to kick the ball +or bite it! I'm mighty glad it went over, though." He nodded and hurried +on in the wake of Hop, who, being a very earnest young gentleman and +completely absorbed in the business of football, considered girls far +outside his scheme of things. + +Three quarters of an hour later, Laurie arose from his recumbent +position on the window-seat of Number 16 East Hall, and delivered an +ultimatum in quiet but forceful tones. "Ned," he said, "I saw that game +from about the middle of the first quarter to the bitter end. Nothing +escaped my eagle gaze. I can even tell you exactly how many times that +High School umpire consulted his rules book when he thought no one was +looking. I know how much dirt there was in Frank Brattle's left ear when +they dragged him out. I know--" + +"Well, what of it? What's your chief trouble?" growled Ned. + +"Knowing all this and more, much more, Neddie, I refuse to listen any +longer to your reminiscences. You've been through the game three times +since you landed up here, and there's a limit to my endurance. And +you've reached that limit, Neddie--you really have. I'm going down to +George's, where I may hear something besides touch-downs and passes and +goals. When you recover, Neddie, come on down." + +"Oh, go to the dickens!" muttered Ned, as the door closed softly. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII--BEFORE THE BATTLE + + +"The fellow who put these posts in," grunted Bob, as he heaved and +tugged, "must have had more time than brains!" + +It was Thursday afternoon. A hard frost, which had frozen the ground a +half-inch deep, had counseled him to finish the work of wrecking the +arbor. But three posts remained, and at one of these Bob, after having +dug around it, and pried at it with a bar until patience was exhausted, +was tugging lustily. Laurie, wiping the sweat of honest toil from his +brow, cast aside the bar and gave a hand. + +"Come on," he said hopefully. "One, two--three! Heave!" + +"Heave!" muttered Bob. + +But although the post, which had formed a corner of the arbor, gave from +side to side, it refused to leave its nest. Panting, the boys drew off +and observed it glumly. + +"Guess we'll have to dig some more," said Bob. + +"Wait a minute. Let me get a purchase on it with the bar." + +Laurie seized that implement again and drove it into the softened earth +beside the post. As the first drive didn't send it far enough, he pulled +it out, and put all his strength into the next effort. This time he +succeeded beyond all expectations. The bar slipped through his fingers +and disappeared from sight! + +"Well!" he gasped. "What do you know--" + +"Where-where did it go to?" cried Bob, dumfounded. + +"It went--it went to China, I guess! It just slipped right through my +hands, and kept on slipping!" Laurie knelt and dug at the hole with his +fingers. + +"Find it?" asked Bob. "Try the shovel." + +"No, I can't feel it. Hand it here." Laurie took the shovel and dug +frantically. Then Bob dug. The result was that they enlarged and +deepened the hole around the post, but the crowbar failed to +materialize. + +"I suppose," said Laurie, finally, dropping the shovel and tilting back +his cap, "what happened was that I struck a sort of hole, and the bar +went right down in. Maybe it was a rat-hole, Bob." + +"I guess so. Anyway, it's gone, and we'll have to get a new one." + +"Oh, I guess we'll find it when we get the post out. Let's try the old +thing." + +They did, and, after a moment of indecision, it came out most +obligingly. But there was still no crowbar to be seen. Laurie shook his +head, mystified. "That's the funniest thing I ever saw," he declared. + +"It surely is! Look here; maybe there's an old well there." + +"Then why didn't the post go down into it?" + +"Because it's covered over with stones. The bar happened to slip into +a--a crevice." + +Laurie nodded dubiously. "That might be it," he agreed. "Or perhaps +we've discovered a subterranean cavern!" + +"Caverns always are subterranean, aren't they?" + +"No; sometimes they're in the side of a hill." + +"Then they're caves." + +"A cave and a cavern are the same thing, you smart Aleck." + +"All right; but even if a cavern is in a hill, it's underground, and +subterranean means under--" + +"Help! You win, Bob! Come on and get hold of this log and let's get it +out of here." And, as they staggered with it across the garden to add it +to the pile of posts and lumber already there, he continued: "There's +one thing certain, Bob, and that's that you won't get me to play tennis +on your court. I'd be afraid of sinking into the ground some fine day!" + +"Maybe you'd find the crowbar then," said Bob. "Heave!" + +Laurie "heaved," patted the brown loam from his hands, and surveyed the +pile. "There's a lot of good stuff there," he pondered. "Some of it's +sort of rotten, but there's enough to build something." + +"What do you want to build?" + +"I don't know. We could build a sort of covered seat, like the one in +Polly's yard, where folks could rest and look on. Take about six of +these posts and some of the strips, and some boards for the seat--" + +"Who'd dig the post-holes?" inquired Bob, coldly. + +"Oh, we could get a couple of the others to help. Honest, Bob, it would +be a lot of fun. Maybe we couldn't do it before spring, though." + +"I might leave the stuff here," said Bob. "Thomas could sort of pile it +a little neater, you know. I love to carpenter. Sometime we'll draw a +plan of it, Nod." + +"Right-o! How about those other posts? No use trying to do anything with +'em to-day, is there?" + +"No; we'll have to have another crowbar." + +Laurie looked relieved. "Well, let's go over and see whether the Widow's +got any of those little cakes with the chocolate on top," he suggested. +"Hard work always makes a fellow hungry." + +There was a rousing football meeting in the auditorium that evening, +with speeches and music, songs and cheers; and the enthusiasm spilled +over to the yard afterward, and threatened to become unruly until Dan +Whipple mounted the steps of School Hall and spoke with all the +authority of eighteen years and the senior class presidency. Whereupon +someone suggested a cheer for the Doctor, and the joyous crowd thronged +to the west end of the building and gave nine long "Hillman's," with a +"Doctor Hillman" on the end. And then suddenly the lights flashed on on +the porch, and there were the Doctor and Miss Tabitha, the former +looking very much as if he had awakened very recently from a nap--which +was, in fact, the case. But he was smiling as he stepped to the doorway +and near-sightedly surveyed the throng. + +"This--er--testimonial would appear to demand some sort of a response," +he announced, as the applause that had greeted his appearance died away. +"But I find myself singularly devoid of words, boys. Perhaps some of you +recall the story of the visitor in Sunday-school who was unexpectedly +called on by the superintendent to address the children. He hemmed and +hawed and said, finally, that it gave him much pleasure to see so many +smiling, happy faces. And he hoped they were all good little boys and +girls and knew their lessons. And then his eloquence failed him, and +after an unhappy interim he asked: 'And now, children, what shall I +say?' And a little girl in the front row lisped: 'Pleathe, Mithter, thay +"Amen" and thit down!' + +"Perhaps I'd better say 'Amen' and sit down, too," he went on, when the +laughter had ceased; "but before I do I'd like to assure you that I am +'rooting' just as hard as any of you for a victory the day after +to-morrow. My duties will not allow me to see the team in action, as +much as I'd like to, but I am kept well informed of its progress. I have +my scouts at work constantly. Mr. Pennington reports to me on the work +of the linemen; Mr. Barrett advises me each day as to the backs; Mr. +Wells is my authority on--er--stratagem." + +This amused his hearers intensely, since none of the three instructors +mentioned had ever been known to attend a game or watch a practice. + +"And," continued the principal, when he could, "I follow the newspaper +reports of our enemy's progress. Of course, I don't believe all I read. +If I did I'd be certain that only overwhelming disaster awaited us on +Saturday. But there is one thing that troubles me. I read recently that +the Farview center is a very large youth, weighing, if I am not +mistaken, some one hundred and seventy pounds. While mere weight and +brawn are not everything, I yet tremble to consider what may happen to +the slight, atomic youth who will oppose him. Young gentlemen, I shudder +when I dwell on that unequal meeting, that impending battle of David and +Goliath!" + +When the new burst of laughter had subsided, the doctor continued more +soberly: "I wish the team all success, a notable victory. Or, if the +gods of battle will it otherwise, I wish it the manly grace to accept +defeat smilingly and undismayed. I am certain of one thing, boys, which +is that, whether fortune favors the Dark Blue or the Maroon and White, +the contest will be hard fought and clean, and bring honor alike to the +victor and vanquished. You have my heartiest good wishes. And"--the +doctor took the hand of Miss Tabitha, who had been standing a few steps +behind him--"and the heartiest good wishes of another, who, while not a +close follower of your sports, has a warm spot in her heart for each and +every one of you, and who is as firmly convinced as I am of the +invincibility of the Dark Blue!" + +"Three cheers for Tab--for Miss Hillman!" cried a voice; and, at first a +trifle ragged with laughter, the cheers rang forth heartily. Then came +another cheer for the doctor and a rousing one for "Hillman's! +_Hillman's!!_ HILLMAN'S!!!" And the little throng, laughing and +chattering, dispersed to the dormitories. + +Friday saw but a light practice for the first team and a final +appearance of the scrubs, who, cheered by the students, went through a +few minutes of snappy signal work, and the waving sweaters and blankets +dashed off to the field-house, their period of servitude at an end. For +the first team there was a long blackboard drill in the gymnasium after +supper, and Ned, who, somewhat to his surprise and very much to his +gratification, had been retained on the squad, returned to Number 16 at +nine o'clock in a rather bemused condition of mind. Kewpie, who +accompanied him, tried to cheer him up. + +"It'll be all right to-morrow, Nid," he declared. "I know how you feel. +Fact is, I wouldn't know one signal from another if I got it this +minute, and as for those sequences--" Words failed him. "But when you +get on the field to-morrow it'll all come back to you. It--it's sort of +psychological. A trick of memory and all that. You understand!" + +"I don't see why he needs to worry, anyhow," observed Laurie, cruelly. +"He won't get a show in to-morrow's game." + +Ned looked hopeful for a moment, then relapsed into dejection as Kewpie +answered: "I'd like to bet you he will, Nod. I'd like to bet you that +he'll play a full period. You just watch Farview lay for Pope! Boy, +they're going to make hard weather for that lad! They were after him +last year, but they couldn't get him and he played right through. But +I'd like to bet you that to-morrow they'll have him out of it before the +last quarter." + +"What do you mean?" asked Laurie, in surprise. "They don't play that +sort of a game, do they?" + +"What sort of a game?" responded Kewpie. "They play hard, that's the way +they play! And every time they tackle Pope, they'll tackle him so he'll +know it. And every time he hits the line, there'll be one of those +red-legs waiting for him. Oh, they don't play dirty, if you mean that; +but they don't let any chances slip, believe me!" + +"It sounds sort of off color to me, though," Laurie objected. "How are +you going to put a fellow out of the game if you don't slug or do +something like that?" + +Kewpie smiled knowingly. "My son," he said, "if I start after you and +run you around the dormitory about twenty times--" + +Ned, in spite of his down-heartedness, snickered at the picture evolved, +and Kewpie grinned. + +"Well, suppose some one else did, then. Anyhow, after he'd done it about +a couple of dozen times, you'd be all in, wouldn't you? He wouldn't have +to kick you or knock you down or anything, would he? Well, that's what I +mean. That's the way they'll go after Pope. They'll tire him out. You +understand. And every time they tackle him, they'll tackle him good and +hard. Well, suppose Pope does go out, and there's a chance for a field +goal, as there's likely to be. Who will Pinky put in? Why, Nid, of +course! Who else is there? Brattle can't kick one goal in six. No more +can Deering. What do you think Mulford's been nursing Nid all the season +for?" + +"Next year?" said Laurie, questioningly. + +"Sure--and this year, too. You watch and see. I'd like to bet you that +Nid'll have a goal to kick to-morrow--yes, and that he'll kick it, too!" + +"Don't!" groaned Ned. "I never could do it!" + +"Well," laughed Laurie, "I don't bet for money, Kewpie, but I tell you +what I'll do. If Ned kicks a goal to-morrow, I'll take you over to the +Widow's, and I'll buy you all the cream-puffs you can eat at one +sitting!" + +"It's a go!" cried Kewpie. "And if he doesn't, I'll do it to you!" + +"Of course," explained Laurie, in recognition of his brother's look of +pained inquiry, "I'm not making the offer because I think Ned can't do +it, or because I don't want him to play. You bet I do! It's because I do +want him to, Kewpie. You see, I usually lose bets!" + +"All right, you crazy galoot. I've got to beat it. Pinky made us swear +by the Great Horn Spoon to be in bed by ten. Good night. Don't let the +signal stuff worry you, Nid. It'll come out all right to-morrow. You +understand. Night!" + +When the door had closed, Laurie laughed and turned to Ned. "He's a good +old scout, isn't he? I say, what's the matter with you, Ned? You look +like the end of a hard winter! Cheer up! It may not be true!" + +But Ned shook his head, although he tried to smile unconcernedly. "It'll +happen just the way he told, Laurie," he said, sadly. "I just know it +will! They'll get Pope out of the way, and there'll be a field goal +wanted, just as there was Wednesday, and Mulford will send me in!" + +"Well, what of it? You'd like that, wouldn't you?" + +"I--I'm scared!" + +"Oh, piffle, Neddie! You've got nerves, that's all. The night before the +battle, you know, and all that! In the morning you'll be as right as +rain. Get your clothes off and tumble in. Want me to read a story to +you? There's a corker in the 'Post' this week." + +"No, thanks; I guess not. I'd better go to sleep." + +But, although Ned, stifling a desire to sit up and read the corking +story himself, put the light out at ten minutes before ten, he lay awake +until after midnight and suffered as blue a case of funk as any boy ever +did. And when, at length, sleep came, it was filled with visions in +which he stood in the center of a vast arena, the object of countless +eyes, and tried over and over, and never with success, to kick a +perfectly gigantic leather ball over a cross-bar that was higher than +the Masonic Temple at home! + +The truth is that Ned was over-trained and stale. And the further truth +is that when he awoke to as sweet a November morning as ever peered down +from a cloudless sky through golden sunlight, he felt, as he phrased it +to himself, like a sock that had just come through the wringer! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX--NED IS MISSING + + +Ned ate almost no breakfast, and Laurie noted the fact, but, after a +glance at his brother's face, said nothing. After all, he reflected, +there were probably others of the squad who were displaying no more +appetite this morning. Afterward, on the way to School Hall for their +only recitation of the day, he asked off-handedly: "How are you feeling, +Neddie?" + +Ned didn't answer at once. When he did, he only replied laconically: +"Rotten!" + +"How do you mean, rotten?" Laurie disguised anxiety under flippancy. +"Tummy out of whack? Or is it a case of ingrowing signals?" + +"I don't know what the trouble is," answered Ned seriously. "I feel +perfectly punk. And I--I'm scared, Laurie. I'd give a million dollars if +I didn't have to go to the field this afternoon. I wish to goodness I +could duck somehow. Say, feel my forehead. Isn't it hot?" + +Laurie felt, and shook his head. "Cool as a cucumber, you old fakir. +Buck up, Neddie! You'll feel better after a while. Did you sleep all +right?" + +"I guess so," replied the other dispiritedly. "I dreamed a lot. Dreamed +I was kicking goals over a bar as high as a mountain. And the ball was +as big as a hogshead. And there were about a million folks watching me, +and Mr. Cornish was beating a bass-drum." + +Laurie laughed. "Some dream, Neddie! Tell you what. After we get out of +here, we'll take a nice, long hike. Mulford wants the players to stay +outdoors, doesn't he? Didn't you tell me he said you were to walk or +something?" + +Ned nodded. "I'm too tired to walk, though, Laurie. Guess I'll get a +book and go over to the park. Or go down and jump in the river!" + +"Fine idea!" scoffed Laurie. "What have you got against the river? It +never did anything to you, did it?" + +Ned, however, refused to smile. "You don't need to come along," he said. +"I--I guess I'd rather be alone, Laurie." + +"You will be, if you're going to jump in the river, partner! The water's +a heap too cold to appeal to me. Well, cheer up. See you when we come +out." + +There was a holiday feeling in the air this morning that didn't promise +well for recitations, and Mr. Brock's chemistry class was a sore trial +to that gentleman. Yet, although he frowned often and sighed many +despairing sighs, he made allowance for the prevailing mood of +restlessness and exhibited unusual patience. And finally it was over and +the class trooped out. + +"You stay here," said Laurie, "and I'll run over and get a couple of +books from the room. What do you want?" + +"I don't care--anything," answered Ned, listlessly. + +When Laurie went off, Ned seated himself on a step and gazed forlornly +around him. Groups of boys stood on the walks in animated conversation. +Near at hand, a half-dozen juniors were discussing the game avidly, +drawing comforting conclusions from a comparison of the season's +performances of Hillman's and Farview. Suddenly the prospect of sitting +on a park bench with Laurie became utterly distasteful to Ned, and, with +a hurried glance in the direction of East Hall, he arose and made his +way along the drive and into Summit Street. There he turned to the left +and walked quickly to the corner. At Washington Street another look +behind showed that he had made his escape, and he heaved a sigh of +relief and went on past the library and into Cumber Street, heading +unconsciously toward the open country eastward of town. + +When Laurie returned to School Hall with a book for Ned and a magazine +for himself, he sat down and waited a few minutes, supposing that Ned +would be back. When he didn't come, Laurie went over to School Park, +thinking that he had perhaps grown tired of waiting in the yard. But no +Ned was to be seen, and, puzzled but untroubled, Laurie dawdled into +Pine Street. The white-and-red sign above the Widow Deane's little store +shone bravely in the sunlight. For an hour Laurie enjoyed the society of +Polly and Antoinette in the sunny garden, where, against the board +fence, a clump of hardy chrysanthemums made a cheery showing of yellow +and lavender. Antoinette had retired to winter quarters, which means +that a gunny-sack and a length of old red carpet had been draped over +her box. But just now the drapery was lifted, and Antoinette was doing +great things to a very large cabbage-leaf. Towser had established +himself in the sunshine atop the porch roof and gazed down benignly at +the pair below. + +Laurie and Polly talked, of course, about the game. He and George were +again to act as escorts to the two girls, a fact that had eaten a large +hole in Laurie's remaining allowance. About ten o'clock he took himself +away, reminding Polly to be ready at half-past one, since it took a good +ten minutes to walk to the field, and because, wisely, he realized that +to Polly "half-past one" would mean a quarter or two. Climbing the fence +into Bob's yard, he discovered that young man with a new crowbar about +to begin an attack on the remaining posts of the arbor. So he removed +his sweater, moistened his hands in the time-honored and only +efficacious manner, and joined the assault. After the posts were added +to the pile beside the fence, the two boys went indoors and refreshed +the inner man with piping-hot ginger cookies. Thus it was that it was +nearly noon when Laurie got back to Number 16, to find, to his +uneasiness, that Ned was not there. Nor, as far as any evidences showed, +had he been there since before breakfast. + +Laurie threw himself on the window-seat and tried to apply himself to +the magazine that he had carried all morning. But he began to be really +worried about Ned. He didn't understand where he could be. Even if he +had gone off by himself, mooning along the roads, which was what Laurie +suspected he had done, he should have been home before this, for, as +Laurie knew, the players were to go to lunch at twelve. Presently he +dropped the magazine and strode across the corridor to Number 15. Kewpie +was not in, but Hop was there--a more than ordinarily serious-faced Hop, +who replied to Laurie's inquiry in an absent-minded manner suggesting +that some one had placed him in a trance and gone away without awakening +him. Hop hadn't seen Nid all morning. Kewpie had just gone over to West +Hall. He hoped there wouldn't be any wind this afternoon. Farview had a +punter that could do fifty yards easily, and a wind would lengthen his +kicks frightfully. Did Nod think those clouds meant wind? + +Laurie withdrew without venturing an opinion in the matter. Football, he +reflected, was a far more dangerous pastime than folks generally +realized, when it could affect a fellow's brains like that! Downstairs, +he searched the little group about the dining-hall door, and finally +made inquiry of Dave Murray. Dave was worried and excited and a bit +short-tempered. + +"Nid Turner? No, I haven't seen him. He'll be here pretty quick, though. +We eat at twelve." + +He left Laurie, to push his way toward the entrance to accost Mr. +Mulford, who was coming in; and Laurie went out and sat down on the step +and watched. Kewpie came striding across from West Hall, smiling and +evidently very fit. But when Laurie questioned him the smile faded. + +"Nid? No, I haven't set eyes on him. Isn't he here? Are you sure? Say, +you don't suppose the silly guy has bolted? He was in mean shape last +night, Nod. But he wouldn't do that! He's no quitter. He'll be here in a +minute or two." + +"Suppose--suppose he isn't?" asked Laurie, anxiously. "Would it matter +much?" + +"Matter?" Kewpie shrugged, one eye on the dining-hall door, through +which his team-mates were beginning to pass. "It wouldn't matter to the +game, I guess. I was only trying to cheer him up last night. You +understand. It isn't likely Pinky will use him. But it would be a bad +thing for him, Nod. It would be an awful black eye, in fact, if he cut +the game. Guess Pinky would just about can him for all time! I say, I've +got to hustle in there. Why don't you have a look around for him? Maybe +he's in the library, or over in West, or--or somewhere. See you later, +Nod!" + +Kewpie disappeared into the dining-hall, and a moment later the door was +closed. Laurie acted on Kewpie's suggestion, and made a thorough search +of School Hall and the other dormitory, and even poked his head into the +gymnasium, where only an empty floor met his gaze. After that there +seemed nothing to do but wait. Ned had already missed his lunch, for the +fellows were coming out into the corridor when Laurie returned to East +Hall. Murray nailed him as he tried to pass unnoticed to the stairs. + +"Say, Nod, where's that brother of yours?" he demanded indignantly. +"Didn't he know that lunch was at twelve? Where is he, anyway?" + +"I don't know, Dave," Laurie answered, miserably. "He went for a walk +this morning, and I haven't seen him since. I guess he went too far and +couldn't get back in time. I've been looking all over for him." + +"That's fine!" said the manager, bitterly. "Mulford asked for him, and I +said I'd look him up. You'd better find him mighty quick, Nod. Tell him +to get something to eat somewhere and be at the gym not later than one. +There's a floor drill then. I'll make it all right with Mulford, +somehow. But there'll be the dickens and all to pay if he doesn't show +up!" + +Hoping against hope, Laurie hurried up to the room. But there was no +Ned. One o'clock came and passed. Time and again Laurie went to the gate +and looked up and down the street, but without result. Ned had +disappeared utterly, it seemed, and the unwelcome conclusion grew in +Laurie's mind that Ned had shown the white feather and had deliberately +absented himself. Laurie didn't like to think that, and there were +moments when he couldn't. But here it was nearly half-past one, and Ned +hadn't come, and facts are facts! It looked, he thought sadly, like a +bad day for the honor of the Turners! + +At half-past one he found George Watson in his room, and handed over one +of his tickets. "I can't go to the field with you," he said, "but I'll +find you over there. Try to keep a seat for me, will you?" + +"What's the big idea?" asked George, blankly. "Why can't you go with us? +That's a fine game to play!" + +"I'll tell you later. I--I've got something to do. Be a good fellow, +George, won't you? And tell Polly how it is, will you?" + +"How the dickens can I tell Polly how it is when I don't know how it is +myself?" asked George, indignantly. "Oh, all right! But you want to get +there pretty quick, Nod. It's hard to hold seats when there aren't +enough of them in the first place. There's a regular mob going out there +already!" + +Disconsolately Laurie hurried out and stationed himself at the dormitory +entrance. Presently the players emerged from the gymnasium in their togs +and passed through the little gate to Washington Street. Laurie watched +them file past, hoping hard that Ned would be among them. But, although +all the rest were there, twenty-one in all, there was no Ned. + +From Washington Street and Summit Street came a steady tramping of feet, +accompanied by a swishing sound as the pedestrians brushed through the +fallen leaves. Occasionally an automobile went by with a warning honk of +its horn at the corner. Looking over the withered hedge, Laurie could +see the colors of Hillman's and Farview marching past, banners of dark +blue bearing the white Old English H, maroon-and-white flags adorned +with the letters "F. A." Laughter and the merry, excited chatter of many +voices came to him. The yard was empty, except for a boy hurrying down +the steps of West Hall, and he too quickly disappeared through the gate. + +Presently Laurie looked at his watch. The time was eighteen minutes to +two. He left East Hall and turned toward the gymnasium. Out of the +shelter of the dormitory a little breeze fanned his face, and he +remembered Hop Kendrick's dread of a wind that would put more power into +the toe of the Farview punter. It might be, he reflected, that Hop was +due for disappointment; but the matter didn't seem very important to +him. The locker-room in the gymnasium was empty. Over the benches lay +the discarded underclothing of the players, and sometimes the outer +clothing as well, suggesting that excitement on this occasion had +prevailed over orderliness. Laurie made his way to Ned's locker. It was +closed, and behind the unfastened door hung his togs. + + + + +CHAPTER XX--FOR THE HONOR OF THE TURNERS + + +Walking felt good to Ned that morning. The air, brisk in spite of the +sunshine and the day's stillness, cleared his head of the queer +cloudiness that had been there since awakening, and, turning into the +country road that led eastward toward the higher hills, he strode along +briskly. He had, he reflected, played rather a low-down trick on Laurie; +but that could be explained later, and Laurie wouldn't mind when he +understood. When he had gone the better part of a mile into the country, +and the road had begun to steepen perceptibly, the sound of a motor +behind warned him to one side. But, instead of passing in a cloud of +dust, the automobile slowed down as it reached the pedestrian, and the +driver, a genial-looking man of middle age, hailed. + +"Going my way?" he asked. "Get in if you like." + +Ned hesitated, and then climbed in beside the solitary occupant of the +car. The prospect of speeding through the sunlit morning world appealed +to him, and he thanked the driver and snuggled into the other corner of +the front seat. + +"That's all right, my boy," answered the man, genially. "Glad to have +company. How far are you going?" + +"Just--just up the road a ways," replied Ned, vaguely. "I was out for a +walk, only this seemed better." + +"Well, it's quicker, though it doesn't give you quite so much exercise," +was the response. "You sing out when you've had enough. Maybe you can +get a lift going back, if you're not in too much of a hurry. Still, +there isn't much travel on this road. Most folks go around by Little +Windsor. It's longer, but the road's a sight better. I go this way +because I can do it quicker. There are some fierce bumps, though. Yell +if you drop out!" + +The car was a heavy one with good springs, and as long as Ned remained +in it the bad bumps didn't materialize. His companion evidently liked to +talk, and Ned learned a good deal about him and his business, without, +however, finding it very interesting. The man asked few questions, and +so Ned merely supplied the information that he was from Hillman's School +and that he liked to walk and that he had all the morning to get back +in. The car kept up an even, effortless speed of twenty-seven or -eight +miles an hour, and it was finding himself booming up the straight grade +over Candle Mountain that brought Ned to a sudden realization that if he +meant to get back to school by twelve o'clock without undue effort he +had best part company with his chatty acquaintance. So, at the summit of +the hill, he said good-by, repeated his thanks, and got out. + +"Guess you're about six miles from Orstead," said the man. "It won't +take you long to get back there, though, if you find a lift. Don't +hesitate to stop any one you see; they'll be glad to take you in. +Good-by!" + +The gray automobile went on and was speedily dropping from sight beyond +the nearly leafless forest. Ned watched it disappear, and then set his +face toward home. The ride had certainly done him good, he told himself. +The prospect of being called on to kick a dozen goals wouldn't have +dismayed him a mite at that moment. In fact, he suddenly realized that +he was going to be horribly disappointed if the chance to attempt at +least one goal from the field did not come to him, and he wondered why +he had felt so craven last night. + +After a mile or so a small, dust-covered car overhauled him and went by +without a challenge from him. It was still only ten o'clock, and he had +two hours yet, and he had no intention of begging a ride. Taken +leisurely, the remaining miles would be covered without weariness and in +plenty of time. When he had accomplished, as he reckoned, about half the +distance to Orstead, his watch said seventeen minutes to eleven. The +forenoon had grown appreciably warmer, and so had Ned. Beside the road +was a little knoll carpeted with ashy-brown beech-leaves. Only a stone +wall, bordered with blackberry briars, intervened. + +Ned climbed across the wall and seated himself on the slope of the +knoll. The land descended gently before him toward the river and the +town, but neither was in sight. Presently, removing his cap, he +stretched himself on his back and linked his fingers under his head. And +presently, because the blue, sunlit, almost cloudless sky was too +dazzling to gaze at long, he closed his eyes. And as he did so a +strange, delicious languor descended upon him. He sighed luxuriously and +stretched his legs into a more comfortable position. It was odd that he +should feel sleepy at this time of day, he thought, and it wouldn't do +to stay here too long. He wished, though, that he didn't have to get +anywhere at any especial time. It would be great to just lie here like +this and feel the sun on his face and-- + +At about that moment he stopped thinking at all and went sound asleep. + +When he awoke he was in shadow, for the sun had traveled around and past +the elbow of a near-by old and knotted oak whose brown-pink leaves still +clung to the twisted branches. Ned looked around him in puzzlement, and +it was a long moment before he could account for his surroundings. When +he had, he sat up very quickly and gave a startled look at his watch. +The thing was crazy! It said twenty-one minutes past two! Of course it +couldn't be that late, he told himself indignantly. But even as he said +it he was oppressed by a conviction that it was. And a look at the sun +removed any lingering doubt! + +He sprang to his feet, seized his cap, and stumbled across the wall, +and, again on the road, set out at a run toward home. But after a moment +he slowed up. "Was there any use in hurrying now? The game was already +in progress--had been going on for twenty minutes. The first quarter was +probably nearly over. What would they say to him, the fellows and Coach +Mulford and--Laurie? Somehow, what Laurie would think appeared far more +important than what any of the others might. He would have such a poor +excuse, he reflected ruefully! Went for a walk, and fell asleep by the +road! Gee, he couldn't tell them that! He might tell Laurie; but the +others--" + +He was jogging on as he thought things over. Even if he ran all the way, +and he couldn't do that, of course, he wouldn't get to school before +three. And then he would have to change into his togs and reach the +field. And by that time the second half would have started. Wouldn't it +be far better to remain away altogether? He might easily reach his room +unseen, and then, when Laurie returned, he could pretend illness. He +might not fool Laurie; but the others, Coach Mulford and Dave Murray and +the fellows, would have to believe him. + +If a fellow was ill, he couldn't be expected to play football. He even +got as far as wondering what particular and peculiar malady he could +assume, when he put the idea aside. + +"No use lying about it," he muttered. "Got to face the music, Ned! It +was your own fault. Maybe Mulford will let me down easy. I wouldn't like +to queer myself for next year. Gee, though, what'll the school think?" +And Ned groaned aloud. + +While he had slept, five vehicles had passed him, and as many persons +had seen him lying there asleep in the sun and idly conjectured about +him. But now, when he needed help to conquer the interminable three +miles that stretched between him and the town, and although he +constantly turned his head to gaze hopefully back along the dusty road, +not a conveyance appeared. Before long, since he had unwisely started at +too great a speed, he was forced to sit down on a rock and rest. He was +very nearly out of breath and the perspiration was trickling down +beneath his cloth cap. A light breeze had sprung up since he had dropped +asleep, and it felt very grateful as it caressed his damp hair and +flushed face. + +Perhaps those three miles were nearer four, because when, tired, dusty, +and heart-sick, he descried the tower of the Congregational church above +the leafless elms and maples of the village, the gilded hands pointed to +twelve minutes past three. Even had he arrived in time, he reflected +miserably, he would never have been able to serve his team-mates and his +school, for he was scarcely able to drag one foot behind the other as he +finally turned into the yard. + +The place appeared deserted, grounds and buildings alike, as Ned +unhesitatingly made his way across to the gymnasium. He had long since +decided on his course of action. No matter whether he had failed his +coach and his schoolmates, his duty was still plain. As late as it was, +he would get into his togs and report at the field. But when, in the +empty locker-room, he paused before where his football togs should have +been, he found only empty hooks. The locker, save for towels, was empty! + +At first he accepted the fact as conclusive evidence of his +disgrace--thought that coach or manager or an infuriated student body +had removed his clothes as a signal of degradation! Then the +unlikelihood of the conclusion came, and he wondered whether they had +really been there. But of course they had! He remembered perfectly +hanging them up, as usual, yesterday afternoon. Perhaps some one had +borrowed them, then. The locker had been unfastened, probably, for half +the time he forgot to turn the key in it. Wondering, he made his way out +of the building, undecided now what to do. But as he reached the corner +a burst of cheers floated to him from the play-field. His head came up. +It was still his duty to report, togs or no togs! Resolutely he set out +on Summit Street, the sounds of battle momentarily growing nearer as he +limped along. + +By the entrances many automobiles and some carriages lined the road. +Above the stand the backs of the spectators in the top row of seats +looked strangely agitated, and blue flags waved and snapped. A fainter +cheer came to him, the slogan of Farview, from the farther side of the +field. He heard the piping of signals, and a dull thud of leather +against leather, then cries and a whistle shrilling; and then a great +and triumphant burst of cheering from the Blue side. + +He hurried his steps, leaped the low fence beside the road, and came to +a group of spectators standing at the nearer end of the long, low grand +stand. He could see the gridiron now, and the battling teams in +mid-field. And the scoreboard at the farther end! And, seeing that, his +heart sank. "Hillman's 7--Visitors 9" was the story! He tugged the +sleeve of a man beside him, a youngish man in a chauffeur's livery. + +"What period is it?" he asked. + +"Fourth," was the answer. The man turned a good-natured look on the +boy's anxious face. + +"Been going about four minutes. You just get here?" + +Ned nodded. "How did they get their nine?" he asked. + +"Farview? Worked a forward pass in the second quarter for about thirty +yards, and smashed over for a touch-down. They failed at goal, though. +That made 'em six, and they got three more in the last quarter. +Hillman's fumbled about on their thirty, and that bandy-legged full-back +of Farview's kicked a corking goal from field. Gee--say, it was some +kick!" + +"Placement or drop?" + +"Drop. Almost forty yards, I guess. There they go again!" The chauffeur +tiptoed to see over a neighbor's head. Ned, past his shoulder, had an +uncertain glimpse of the Maroon and White breaking through the Blue's +left side. When the down was signaled, he spoke again. + +"How did Hillman's score?" he asked. + +"Huh? Oh, she got started right off at the beginning of the game and +just ate those red-legs up. Rushed the ball from the middle of the +field, five and six yards at a whack, and landed it on the other +fellow's door-sill. Farview sort of pulled together then and made a +fight; but that big chap, Pope, the full-back, smashed through finally, +right square between the posts. After that he kicked the goal. Guess the +red-legs had stage-fright then, but they got over it, and our fellows +haven't had a chance to score since. Pope had to lay off last quarter. +They played him to a standstill. Mason's mighty good, but he can't make +the gains Pope did. First down again! Say, they aren't doing a thing but +eating us up!" + +Ned wormed himself to the front of the group, and came to anchor at the +side of a tall policeman, close to the rope that stretched from the end +of the stand well past the zone line. By craning his neck he could look +down the length of the field. White-sweatered, armed with big blue +megaphones, Brewster and Whipple and two others, cheer leaders, were +working mightily, although the resulting cheers sounded weak where Ned +stood. The teams were coming down the field slowly but surely, the Blue +contesting every yard, but yielding after every play. The lines faced +each other close to the thirty now. Across the gridiron, Farview's pæans +were joyful and confident, and the maroon-and-white flags gyrated in +air. Well back toward his threatened goal, Hop Kendrick, white-faced and +anxious, called hoarse encouragement. Ned clenched his hands and hoped +and feared. + +A line attack turned into an unexpected forward pass, and a tall Farview +end came streaking down just inside the boundary. Hop was after him like +a shot; but Deering, who had taken Pope's place, ran him out at the +fifteen-yard line. The Maroon and White went wild with joy. The teams +trooped in on the heels of the diminutive referee, and the ball was down +just inside Hillman's fifteen. Ned looked the Blue team over. Save for +Corson and White, the line was made up of first-string men, but the back +field was, with the single exception of Mason, all substitutes: +Kendrick, Boessel, and Deering. + +A plunge straight at the center gave Farview two more precious yards, +Kewpie, apparently pretty well played out, yielding before the desperate +attack. Three more yards were gained between Emerson and Stevenson on +the left. Third down now, and five to go! Evidently Farview was +determined on a touch-down, for on the nine yards, with an excellent +chance for a field goal, she elected to rush again. But this time the +Blue's center held, and the Farview left half, when friend and foe was +pulled from above him, held the pigskin scarcely a foot in advance of +its former position. It was Hillman's turn to cheer, and cheer she did. +Ned added a wild shout of triumph to the din about him. + +Fourth down, and still five yards to gain! Now Farview must either kick +or try a forward, and realizing this the Blue's secondary defense +dropped back and out. A Farview substitute came speeding on, a new left +tackle. Then, amid a sudden hush, the quarter sang his signals: "Kick +formation! 73--61--29--" The big full-back stretched his arms out. +"12--17--9!" Back sped the ball, straight and breast-high. The Blue line +plunged gallantly. The stand became a pandemonium. The full-back swung a +long right leg, but the ball didn't drop from his hands. Two steps to +the left, and he was poising it for a forward pass! Then he threw, well +over the up-stretched hands of a Hillman's player who had broken +through, and to the left. A Maroon and White end awaited the ball, for +the instant all alone on the Blue's goal-line. Ned, seeing, groaned +dismally. Then from somewhere a pair of blue-clad arms flashed into +sight, a slim body leaped high, and from the Hillman's side of the field +came a veritable thunder of relief and exultation. For the blue arms had +the ball, and the blue player was dodging and worming toward the farther +side-line! Captain Stevenson it was who cleared the path for him at the +last moment, bowling over a Farview player whose arms were already +stretched to grapple, and, in a shorter time than the telling takes, Hop +Kendrick was racing toward the distant goal! + +Afterward Ned realized that during the ensuing ten or twelve seconds he +had tried desperately to shin up the tall policeman; but at the time he +had not known it, nor, or so it appeared, had the policeman, for the +latter was shouting his lungs out! Past the middle of the field sped +Hop, running as fleetly as a hare, and behind him pounded a solitary +Farview end. These two left the rest of the field farther and farther +back at every stride. For a moment it seemed that Hop would win that +desperate race; but at last, near the thirty-five yards, he faltered, +and the gap between him and his pursuer closed to a matter of three or +four strides, and after that it was only a question of how close to the +goal the Blue runner would get before he was overtaken and dragged down. +The end came between the fifteen- and twenty-yard streaks. Then, no more +than a stride behind, the Farview player sprang. His arms wrapped +themselves around Hop's knees, and the runner crashed to earth. + +For a long minute the babel of shouting continued, for that eighty-yard +sprint had changed the complexion of the game in a handful of seconds. +Hillman's was no longer the besieged, fighting in her last trench to +stave off defeat, but stood now on the threshold of victory, herself the +besieger! + +Farview called for time. Two substitutes came in to strengthen her line. +Hop, evidently no worse for his effort, was on his feet again, thumping +his players on the backs, imploring, entreating, and confident. On the +seventeen yards lay the brown oval, almost in front of the right-hand +goal-post. A field goal would put the home team one point to the good, +and, with only a few minutes left to play, win the game almost beyond a +doubt, and none on the Blue's side of the field doubted that a try at +goal would follow. Even when the first play came from ordinary formation +and Deering smashed into the left of Farview's line for a scant yard, +the audience was not fooled. Of course, it was wise to gain what ground +they might with three downs to waste, for there was always the chance +that a runner might get free and that luck would bring a touch-down +instead. + +Yet again Hop signaled a line attack. This time it was Mason who carried +the ball, and he squirmed through for two yards outside left tackle, +edging the pigskin nearer the center of the goal. Then came a shout that +started near the Blue team's bench and traveled right along the stand. A +slight youngster was pulling off his sweater in front of the bench, a +boy with red-brown hair and a pale, set face. Then he had covered the +red-brown hair with a leather helmet and was trotting into the field +with upraised hand. + +Ned stared and stared. Then he closed his eyes for an instant, opened +them, and stared again. After that he pinched himself hard to make +certain that he was awake and not still dreaming on the knoll beside the +road. The substitute was speaking to the referee now, and Deering was +walking away from the group in the direction of the bench. The cheering +began, the leaders waving their arms in unison along the length of the +Hillman's stand: + +"'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Deering!" + +And then again, a second later: "'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! +'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Turner!" + +Ned turned imploringly to the tall policeman. "What--who was that last +fellow they cheered?" he faltered. + +The policeman looked down impatiently. + +"Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI--THE UNDERSTUDY + + +"_Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!_" chanted Farview +imploringly, from across the trampled field. + +Yet above the hoarse entreaty came Hop Kendrick's confident voice: "All +right, Hillman's! Make it go! Here's where we win it! Kick formation! +Turner back!" And then: "25--78--26--194! 12--31--9--" + +But it was Hop himself who dashed straight forward and squirmed ahead +over one white line before the whistle blew. + +"Fourth down!" called the referee. "About four and a half!" + +"Come on!" cried Hop. "Make it go this time! Hard, fellows, hard! We've +got 'em going!" He threw an arm over the shoulder of the new substitute. +Those near by saw the latter shake his head, saw Hop draw back and stare +as if aghast at the insubordination. Farview protested to the referee +against the delay, and the latter called warningly. Hop nodded, and +raised his voice again: + +"Kick formation! Turner back!" + +Then he walked back to where the substitute stood and dropped to his +knees. + +"Place-kick!" grunted a man at Ned's elbow. "Can't miss it from there if +the line holds!" + +Ned, in a perfect agony of suspense, waited. Hop was calling his +signals. There was a pause. Then: "16--32--7--" + +Back came the ball on a long pass from Kewpie. It was high, but Hop got +it, pulled it down, and pointed it. Ned saw the kicker step forward. +Then he closed his eyes. + +There was a wild outburst from all around him, and he opened them again. +The ball was not in sight, but a frantic little man in a gray sweater +was waving his arms like a semaphore behind the farther goal. Along the +space between stand and side-line a quartette of youths leaped crazily, +flourishing great blue megaphones or throwing them in air. Above the +stand blue banners waved and caps tossed about. On the scoreboard at the +far end of the field the legend read: "Hillman's 10--Visitors 9." + +A moment later, a boy with a wide grin on his tired face and nerves that +were still jangling made his way along Summit Street in the direction of +school. Behind him the cheers and shouts still broke forth at intervals, +for there yet remained some three minutes of playing time. Once, in the +sudden stillness between cheers, he heard plainly the hollow thump of a +punted ball. More shouts then, indeterminate, dying away suddenly. The +boy walked quickly, for he had a reason for wanting to gain the security +of his room before the crowd flowed back from the field. At last, at the +school gate, he paused and looked back and listened. From the distant +scene of battle came a faint surge of sound that rose and fell and rose +again and went on unceasingly as long as he could hear. + +Back in Number 16, Ned threw his cap aside and dropped into the nearest +chair. There was much that he understood, yet much more that was still a +mystery to him. One thing, however, he dared hope, and that was that the +disgrace of having failed his fellows had passed him miraculously by! As +to the rest, he pondered and speculated vainly. He felt horribly limp +and weary while he waited for Laurie to come. And after a while he heard +cheering, and arose and went to a window. There could no longer be any +doubt as to the final outcome of the game. Between the sidewalk throngs, +dancing from side to side of the street with linked arms, came +Hillman's, triumphant! + +[Illustration: "Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em."] + +And here and there, borne on the shoulders of joyous comrades, bobbed a +captured player. There were more than a dozen of them, some taking the +proceeding philosophically, others squirming and fighting for freedom. +Now and then one succeeded in getting free, but recapture was invariably +his fate. At least, this was true with a single exception while Ned +watched. The exception was a boy with red-brown hair, who, having +managed to slip from his enthusiastic friends, dashed through the throng +on the sidewalk, leaped a fence, cut across a corner, and presently sped +through the gate on Washington Street, pursuit defeated. A minute later, +flushed and breathless, he flung open the door of Number 16. + +At sight of Ned, Laurie's expression of joyous satisfaction faded. He +halted inside the door and closed it slowly behind him. At last, +"Hello," he said, listlessly. + +"Hello," answered Ned. Then there was a long silence. Outside, in front +of the gymnasium, they were cheering the victorious team, player by +player. At last, "We won, didn't we?" asked Ned. + +Laurie nodded as if the thing were a matter of total indifference. He +still wore football togs, and he frowningly viewed a great hole in one +blue stocking as he seated himself on his bed. + +"Well," he said, finally, "what happened to you?" + +Ned told him, at first haltingly, and then with more assurance as he saw +the look of relief creep into Laurie's face. As he ended his story, +Laurie's countenance expressed only a great and joyous amusement. + +"Neddie," he chuckled, "you'll be the death of me yet! You came pretty +near to it to-day, too, partner!" He sobered as his thoughts went back +to a moment some fifteen minutes before, and he shook his head. +"Partner, this thing of understudying a football hero is mighty wearing. +I'm through for all time. After this, Ned, you'll have to provide your +own substitute! I'm done!" + +"How--why--how did you happen to think of it?" asked Ned, rather humbly. +"Weren't you--scared?" + +"Scared? Have a heart! I was frightened to death every minute I sat on +the bench. And then, when Mulford yelped at me, I--well, I simply passed +away altogether! I'm at least ten years older than I was this morning, +Neddie, and I'll bet I've got gray hairs all over my poor old head. You +see, Murray as much as said that it was all day with you if you didn't +show up. Kewpie was a bit down-hearted about it, too. I waited around +until half-past one or after, thinking every moment that you'd turn +up--hoping you would, anyhow; although, to be right honest, Neddie, I +had a sort of hunch, after the way you acted and talked, that maybe +you'd gone off on purpose. Anyhow, about one o'clock I got to thinking, +and the more I thought the more I got into the notion that something had +to be done if the honor of the Turners was to be--be upheld. And the +only thing I could think of was putting on your togs and bluffing it +through. Kewpie owned up that he'd been talking rot last night--that he +didn't really think you'd be called on to-day. And I decided to take a +chance. Of course, if I'd known what was going to happen I guess I +wouldn't have had the courage; but I didn't know. I thought all I'd have +to do was sit on the bench and watch. + +"So I went over to the gym and got your togs on, and streaked out to the +field, I guess I looked as much like you as you do, for none of the +fellows knew that I wasn't you. I was careful not to talk much. Mr. +Mulford gave me thunder, and so did Murray, and Joe Stevenson looked +pretty black. I just said I was sorry, and there wasn't much time to +explain, anyway, because the game was starting about the time I got +there. Once, in the third period, when Slavin was hurt, Mulford looked +along the bench and stopped when he got to me, and I thought my time had +come. But I guess he wanted to punish me for being late. Anyway, Boessel +got the job. When the blow did fall, Neddie, I was sick clean through. +My tummy sort of folded up and my spine was about as stiff as--as a +drink of water! I wanted to run, or crawl under the bench or something. +'You've pleased yourself so far to-day, Turner,' said Mulford. 'Now +suppose you do something for the school. Kendrick will call for a kick. +You see that it gets over, or I'll have something to say to you later. +Remember this, though: not a word to any one but the referee until after +the next play. Now get out there and _win this game!_' + +"Nice thing to say to a chap who'd never kicked a football in his life +except around the street! But, gee, Neddie, what could I do? I'd started +the thing, and I had to see it through. Of course I thought that maybe +I'd ought to fess up that I wasn't me--or, rather, you--and let some one +else kick. But I knew there wasn't any one else they could depend on, +and I decided that if some one had to miss the goal, it might as well be +me--or you. Besides, there was the honor of the Turners! So I sneaked +out, with my heart in my boots,--your boots, I mean,--and Hop called for +a line play, and then another one, and I thought maybe I was going to +get off without making a fool of myself. But no such luck. 'Take all the +time you want, Nid,' said Hop. 'We'll hold 'em for you. Drop it over, +for the love of mud! We've got to have this game!' 'Drop it?' said I. +'Not on your life, Hop! Make it a place-kick or I'll never have a +chance!' 'What do you mean?' he asked. 'I mean I can't drop-kick +to-day.' I guess something in my voice or the way I said it put him on, +for he looked at me pretty sharp. Still, maybe he didn't guess the +truth, either, for he let me have my way and let me kick. + +"After that"--Laurie half closed his eyes and shook his head +slowly--"after that I don't really know what did happen. I have a sort +of a hazy recollection of Hop shouting some signals that didn't mean a +thing in my young life, and kneeling on the ground a couple of yards +ahead of me. I didn't dare look at the goal, though I knew it was ahead +of me and about twenty yards away. Then there was a brown streak, and +things began to move, and I moved with them. I suppose I swung my +foot,-probably my right one, though it may have been my left,--and then +I closed my eyes tight and waited for some one to kill me. Next thing I +knew, I was being killed--or I thought I thought I was, for a second. It +turned out, though, that the fellows weren't really killing me; they +were just beating me black and blue to show they were pleased. + +"Of course, it was all the biggest piece of luck that ever happened, +Ned. Hop aimed the ball just right, and somehow or other I managed to +kick it. Maybe any one would have done just as well, because I guess it +was an easy goal. Anyway, the honor of the Turners was safe!" + +"You're a regular brick," said Ned, a bit huskily. "What--what happened +afterward? I didn't stay." + +"Afterward Hop looked at me kind of queer and said, 'I guess that'll do +for you, Turner,' and I beat it away from there as fast as I knew how, +and Mulford sent in some other poor unfortunate. There were only half a +dozen plays after that, and we kicked whenever we got the ball." + +"Do you think any one but Hop found out?" asked Ned, anxiously. + +"Not a one. And I'm not sure, mind you, that Hop did. You see, he didn't +_say_ anything. Only, he did call me 'Nid' at first, and then 'Turner' +the next time. I haven't seen him since. I guess I never will know, +unless I ask him. One thing's sure, though, Ned, and that is that Hop +won't talk." + +"You don't think I'd ought to fess up?" asked Ned. + +"I do not," replied Laurie stoutly. "What's the good? It wasn't your +fault if you went to sleep out in the country. If any one's to blame, +it's me. I oughtn't to have hoaxed them. No, sir; if Mulford or any one +says anything, just you tell them you fell asleep and couldn't help +getting there late. But I don't believe any one will ask questions now. +They're all too pleased and excited. But, gee, Neddie! I certainly am +glad I made that goal instead of missing it. I'd be a pretty mean +feeling pup to-night if I hadn't!" + +"It was wonderful," mused Ned. "You putting it over, I mean. With all +that crowd looking on, and Farview shouting--" + +"Shouting? I didn't hear them. I didn't know whether there was any one +around just then! I had troubles of my own, partner! Know something? +Well, I think there's the chap who kicked that goal." Laurie raised his +right foot and displayed one of Ned's scuffed football shoes. "I guess I +just sort of left things to him and he did the business. Good old Mister +Shoe!" + +Ned jumped to his feet and pulled Laurie from the bed. "For the love of +lemons," he cried, "get those togs off before any one comes in!" + +"Gee, that's so!" Laurie worked feverishly, while Ned stumbled over a +chair and turned the key in the lock. + +"A fine pair of idiots we are!" exclaimed Ned, as he ripped Laurie's +shirt off for him. "Suppose Hop or Kewpie had come in while we were +sitting here!" + +Hillman's spent the rest of the evening in celebration. In the +dining-hall the appearance of any member of the squad was the signal for +hand-clapping and cheers, and when Ned entered, followed by Laurie, the +applause was deafening. Ned showed himself to be a very modest and +retiring hero, for he fairly scuttled to his seat, and kept his head +bent over his plate long after the applause had died away. Then, +stealing an unhappy glance at Laurie, he found that youth grinning +broadly, and was the recipient of a most meaningful wink. After supper, +in the corridor, the twins ran squarely into Hop Kendrick. Ned tried to +pull aside, but Laurie stood his ground. Hop was plainly a very happy +youth to-night, although even when happiest he never entirely lost his +look of earnest gravity. + +"Well, we did it, Nid!" he said joyfully, clapping that youth on the +shoulder. "That was a corking kick of yours, son!" + +Ned stammered something utterly unintelligible, but Laurie came to the +rescue: "Ned says it was the way you pointed the ball that won that +goal, Hop," he said casually. "He's mighty modest about it." + +Hop shot a quick glance at the speaker, and Ned declared afterward that +there was a smile behind it. But all he said was: "Oh, well, pointing +isn't everything, Nod. _Some one's_ got to kick it!" + +When he had gone on, Ned and Laurie viewed each other questioningly. +"Think he knows?" asked Ned. Laurie shook his head frowningly. "You've +got me, partner!" he answered. + +And, because neither asked Hop Kendrick outright, neither ever did know! + +There were songs and speeches and a general jollification after supper, +ending in a parade of cheering, singing youths who marched through the +town from end to end, and at last drew up outside Doctor Hillman's porch +and shouted until that gentleman appeared and responded. The Doctor's +words were few, but they hit the spot, and when there had been another +long cheer for him, and another long cheer for the team, and a final +mighty cheer for the school, the happy boys called it a day and sought +the dormitories. + +Ned was just dropping off to sleep that night when Laurie's voice +reached him through the darkness. + +"Ned!" called Laurie. + +"Huh?" + +"Are you awake?" + +"Uh-huh." + +"Listen. It's a fortunate thing to be a twin." + +There was a long moment of silence. Then Ned's voice came sleepily: + +"'Cause if one twin can't the other twin kin!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII--THE BOYS MAKE A PRESENT + + +The week or so succeeding the Farview game seemed like an anticlimax. +The bottom had sort of dropped out of things and there was no immediate +excitement to look forward to. The weather became as miserable as +weather possibly could, the slight snowfall that followed the rain of +Thanksgiving Day lasting only long enough to be seen by the early +risers. Perhaps it was well that lack of events and inclement weather +ruled, for Ned and a good many other boys in school were no worse for an +opportunity to apply themselves undisturbedly to their studies. +Basketball candidates were called the first Monday in December, and the +twins held a serious conference on the question of reporting. Ned, who +felt rather flat since there was no more football, was half inclined to +go in for the game, and would have had Laurie insisted. But Laurie voted +that for the present the Turners had done sufficient in the athletic +line, that the honor of the family demanded no further sacrifices on the +altar of duty. So Ned abandoned the idea and talked of trying for the +crew in the spring. + +When December was a week old, the fellows set their gaze on the +Christmas recess, which this year began on Wednesday, three days before +Christmas, and lasted until the 2d of January. Eleven days are not +sufficient to make a trip across the continent and back advisable, +although the twins figured that, with the best of fortune, they would be +able to reach Santa Lucia in time for dinner Christmas night. On the +other hand, the missing of one connection would delay their arrival +until the following afternoon, and, as Laurie pointed out, they were +fairly certain to be held up somewhere on the way, and a sleeping-car +wasn't exactly an ideal place in which to spend the holiday! Besides, +there was a noticeable lack of encouragement from home. It had been +accepted beforehand that the boys were to remain at the school during +the recess, and nothing in Mr. Turner's fortnightly letters hinted that +he had changed his mind. + +"I'd just as lief stay here, anyway," declared Ned. "We can have a lot +more fun. Maybe there'll be a bunch of snow, and I'm dying to try +skiing." + +"You bet! And skating, too! And then there's that other scheme. Mustn't +forget that, Neddie." + +"You mean--" + +"Yes. Didn't you say we'd do it during vacation?" + +"Sure! It--it'll take quite a lot of money, though, Laurie. And we'll +have presents to buy for Dad and Aunt Emmie and the cousins--" + +"The cousins get Christmas cards, and that's all they do get," +interrupted Laurie, decisively. "That's all they ever give us, and I'd +rather spend my money on something that'll really--really benefit some +one. I guess Dad'll send us some more money, too, for Christmas. We can +do it, all right. I've got nearly seven dollars right now. I haven't +spent hardly any money this month." + +"All right. Some day soon we'll go downtown and find out how much it's +going to cost and what we'll need and everything. I say, we can get Bob +to help us, too!" + +"Rather! And three or four other fellows, I guess. Every one likes the +Widow, and George says there will be five or six fellows here during +recess. He was here last year, and he says he had a dandy time." + +"Let's get George this afternoon and get the thing started. We can find +out the--the area and ask the man how much we'll need." + +"Sure! And we can buy it and store it at Bob's. Then all we'll have to +do will be carry it over the fence. I'll go down and see if I can find +him. Look here, Neddie. Why don't we do it before Christmas and make it +a sort of Christmas present? Say we worked hard all day Thursday and +Friday--" + +"Great! Only if it snowed--" + +Laurie's face fell. "Gee, that's so! I suppose we couldn't do it if it +snowed. Or rained. Or if it was frightfully cold." + +"They say it doesn't get real cold here until after New Year's," said +Ned, reassuringly. "But of course it might snow or rain. Well, we'll do +it in time for Christmas if we can. If we can't, we'll do it for New +Year's. I'll bet she'll be tickled to death. I say, though! We never +found out about the color!" + +"I did," answered Laurie modestly. "I asked Polly. She said white." + +"White! Geewhillikins, Laurie, that makes it harder, doesn't it? We'd +have to put on two coats!" + +"Think so?" Laurie frowned. "I guess we would. That would take twice as +long, eh? Look here; maybe--maybe I can get Polly to change her mind!" + +"That's likely, you chump!" Ned scowled thoughtfully. Finally, "I tell +you what," he said. "Suppose we went around there sometime, and talked +with Mrs. Deane, and told her how nice we think blue looks and how sort +of--of distinctive! Gee, it wouldn't be any trick at all to make it +blue; but white--" He shook his head despondently. + +"Cheer up!" said Laurie. "I've got the dope, partner! Listen. We'll tell +them that it ought to be blue because blue's the school color and all +that. Mrs. Deane thinks a heap of Hillman's, and she'll fall for it as +sure as shooting. So'll Polly! Come on! Let's find George and get the +thing started!" + +"Better get Bob to go with us, too. He said something about wanting to +pay his share of it, so we'd better let him in right from the start. +After all, we don't want to hog it, Laurie!" + +A fortnight later the exodus came. Of the four-score lads who lived at +Hillman's, all but eight took their departure that Wednesday morning, +and Ned and Laurie and George watched the last group drive off for the +station with feelings of genuine satisfaction. Life at school during the +eleven days of recess promised to be busy and enjoyable, and they were +eager to see the decks cleared, so to speak, and to start the new way of +living. Ned and Laurie had had plenty of invitations for Christmas week. +Both Kewpie and Lee Murdock had earnestly desired their society at their +respective homes, and there had been others less insistent but possibly +quite as cordial invitations. But neither one had weakened. George half +promised one of the boys to visit him for a few days after Christmas, +but later he canceled his acceptance. + +Besides George and the twins, there remained at school five other +fellows who, because they lived at a distance and railway fares were +high, or for other reasons, found it expedient to accept Doctor +Hillman's hospitality. None of the five, two juniors, one lower middler, +and two upper middlers, were known to the twins more than casually when +recess began; but eating together three times a day and being thrown in +one another's society at other times soon made the acquaintance much +closer, and all proved to be decent, likable chaps. + +Meals were served at a corner table in West Hall, and during recess +there were seldom fewer than three of the faculty present. That may +sound depressing, but in vacation-time an instructor becomes quite a +human, jovial person, and the scant dozen around the table enjoyed +themselves hugely. In the evening Doctor Hillman held open house, and +Miss Tabitha showed a genius for providing methods of entertainment. +Sometimes they popped corn in the fireplace in the cozy living-room, +sometimes they roasted apples. Once it was chestnuts that jumped on the +hearth. Then, too, Miss Tabitha was a past mistress in the art of making +fudge, and on two occasions Mr. Barrett, the mathematics instructor, +displayed such a sweet tooth that the boys lost the last of their awe +and "ragged" him without mercy. Several times the Doctor read aloud, +choosing, to the boys' surprise, a corking detective novel that had them +squirming on the edges of their chairs. Toward the last of the vacation, +Laurie confided to Ned and George that he wished recess was just +beginning. + +To Ned's and Laurie's great disappointment, neither snow nor ice +appeared and the weather remained merely briskly cold, with sometimes a +day like Indian summer. But I am getting ahead of my story, which really +comes to an end on Christmas Day. + +More than a week before the closing of school, the four conspirators had +finished their preparations for the task that was to provide the Widow +Deane with a novel Christmas present. In Bob's cellar were many cans +containing blue paint, white paint, linseed oil, and turpentine. There +were brushes there, too, and a scraper, and a roll of cotton rags +provided by Polly. For, in the end, it had become necessary to acquaint +Polly with the project. Against Bob's back fence reposed all the +ladders, of varying lengths, that the neighborhood afforded. Wednesday +evening Ned and Laurie and George herded the other boys into George's +room, and explained the scheme and asked for volunteers. They got five +most enthusiastic ones. + +Nine o'clock the next morning was set as the time for the beginning of +the work, and at that hour nine rather disreputably-attired youths +appeared in Mrs. Deane's yard, arriving by way of the back fence, and +began their assault. The first the Widow knew of what was happening was +when, being then occupied with the task of tidying up the sleeping-room +on the second floor, she was startled to see the head and shoulders of a +boy appear outside her window. Her exclamation of alarm gave place to +murmurs of bewilderment as the supposed burglar contented himself with +lifting the two shutters from their hinges and passing them down the +ladder to some unseen accomplice. Mrs. Deane looked forth. In the garden +was what at first glimpse looked like a convention of tramps. They were +armed with ladders and brushes and pots of paint, and they were already +very busy. Across two trestles set on the grass plot, the stolen +shutters were laid as fast as they were taken down. One boy, flourishing +a broad-bladed implement, scraped the rough surfaces. A second plied a +big round brush, dusting diligently. Numbers three and four, as soon as +the first two operatives retired, attacked with brushes dripping with +white paint. In almost no time at all the first shutter was off the +trestles and leaning, fresh and spotless, against the fence. Every +instant another shutter appeared. Mrs. Deane gazed in fascinated +amazement. One after another, she recognized the miscreants: the two +Turner boys, George Watson, Mr. Starling's son, Hal Goring, the Stanton +boy, and the rest; but, although recognition brought reassurance, +bewilderment remained, and she hurried downstairs as fast as ever she +could go. + +Polly was on the back porch, a very disturbed and somewhat indignant +Towser in her arms, evidently a party to the undertaking, and to her +Mrs. Deane breathlessly appealed. + +"Polly! What are they doing?" she gasped. + +"You'll have to ask the boys, Mama." Polly's eyes were dancing. "Nid, +here's Mama, and she wants to know what you're doing!" + +Nid hurried up, a dripping brush in one hand and a smear of white paint +across one cheek, followed by Laurie. The others paused at their various +tasks to watch smilingly. + +"Painting the house, Mrs. Deane!" + +"Painting the house! My house? Why--why--what--who--" + +"Yes'm. There's the blue paint. It's as near like the old as we could +find. You don't think it's too dark, do you?" + +"But I don't understand, Nid Turner!" said Mrs. Deane helplessly. "Who +told you to? Who's going to pay for it?" + +"It's all paid for, ma'am. It--it's a sort of Christmas present from +us--from the school. You--you don't mind, do you?" + +"Well, I never did!" Mrs. Deane looked from Ned to Laurie, her mouth +quivering. "I--I don't know what to say. I guess I'll--I'll go see if +any one's--in the shop, Polly. Did you think you--heard the bell?" Mrs. +Deane's eyes were frankly wet as she turned hurriedly away and +disappeared inside. Ned viewed Polly anxiously. + +"Do you think she--doesn't like it?" he half whispered. + +Polly shook her head and laughed softly, although her own eyes were not +quite dry. "Of course she likes it, you stupid boy! She just didn't know +what to say. She'll be back pretty soon, after she's had a little cry." + +"Oh!" said Ned and Laurie in chorus, their faces brightening; and Laurie +added apologetically: "Gee, we didn't want to make her cry, Polly!" + +"That sort of a cry doesn't hurt," said Polly. + +Afterward Mrs. Deane said a great deal, and said it very sweetly, and +the boys got more or less embarrassed, and were heartily glad when she +drew Ned to her and kissed him, much to that youth's distress, and the +incident ended in laughter. By noon the shutters were done, and nine +industrious amateur painters were swarming over the back of the little +house. I'm not going to tell you that the job was done as perfectly as +Sprague and Currie, Painters and Paper-hangers, would have done it, but +you're to believe that it was done much quicker and at a far greater +saving of money! And when it was finished no one except a professional +would ever have known the difference. Perhaps there was more blue and +white paint scattered around the landscape than was absolutely +necessary, and it always remained a mystery how Antoinette managed to +get her right ear looking like a bit of Italian sky, for every one +professed ignorance and Antoinette was apparently well protected from +spatters. (It took Polly more than a week to restore the rabbit to her +original appearance.) + +When the early winter twilight fell and it became necessary to knock off +work for the day, the blue painting was more than half done and, unless +weather prevented, it was certain that the entire task would be finished +by to-morrow evening. Mrs. Deane served five-o'clock tea,--only it +happened to be four-o'clock tea instead,--and nine very, very hungry +lads did full justice to the repast, and the little room behind the +store held a merry party. Perhaps the prevailing odor of paint detracted +somewhat from Mrs. Deane's and Polly's enjoyment of the refreshments, +but you may be certain they made no mention of the fact. + +That night the boys viewed the cloudy sky apprehensively. Laurie, who +knew little about it, declared dubiously that it smelt like snow. But +when morning came, although the cloudiness persisted most of the day, +the weather remained kindly, with just enough frost in the air to chill +feet and nip idle fingers and to give an added zest to labor. Very +little time was wasted on luncheon, and at two o'clock the last slap of +blue paint had been applied and the more difficult work of doing the +white trim began. Fortunately, there were only eleven windows and two +doors, and although "drawing" the sashes was slow and finicking work, +with nine willing hands hard at it the end came shortly after dusk, +when, watched by eight impatient companions, young Haskell, one of the +junior class boys, with trembling fingers drew his brush along the last +few inches of a front window, and then, because he was quite keyed up +and because it was much too dark to see well, celebrated the culmination +of his efforts by putting a foot squarely into a can of white paint! + +When first-aid methods had been applied, he was allowed, on promise to +put only one foot to the floor, to accompany the rest inside and +announce to a delighted and slightly tremulous Mrs. Deane that the work +was completed. There was a real celebration then, with more piping-hot +tea and lots of perfectly scrumptious cream-puffs,--besides less +enticing bread-and-butter sandwiches,--and Mrs. Deane tried hard to +thank the boys and couldn't quite do it, and Polly failed almost as +dismally, and Laurie made a wonderful speech that no one understood very +well, except for the general meaning, and nine flushed and very happy +youths cheered long and loudly for Mrs. Deane, and finally departed +merrily into the winter twilight, calling back many a "Merry Christmas" +as they went. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII--THE SECRET PASSAGE + + +Christmas Day dawned clear and mild, a green Christmas if ever there was +one. And yet, in spite of the absence of such traditional accompaniments +as snow and ice, the spirit of the season was there in abundance. Ned +and Laurie, wakening early to the sound of church bells, felt Christmasy +right from the first conscious moment. When they hastened down the hall +for their baths, they could hear George and Hal Goring on the floor +below uniting in what they fondly believed was song. Later, at +breakfast, beside a perfectly wonderful repast in which chicken and +little crisp sausages and hot, crisp waffles played leading rôles, the +Doctor and Miss Tabitha had placed at each plate a Christmas card tied +by a tiny blue ribbon to a diminutive painter's brush! Later on there +was to be a tree in the Doctor's living-room. In fact, the tree was +already there, and the boys had spent much of the preceding evening +trimming it and placing around its base inexpensive gifts of a joking +nature for one another and the Doctor and Miss Tabitha and the two +instructors who were there. + +Laurie and Ned had exchanged presents with each other and had received +several from home, not the least welcome of which was a check from their +father. And they had bought small gifts for George and Bob. Also, though +you needn't tell it around school, Laurie had purchased a most +odoriferous and ornate bottle of perfume for Polly! So when, shortly +after breakfast, Ned suggested that Laurie take Bob's present over to +him, Laurie evinced entire willingness to perform the errand. That he +carried not one gift but two in his pockets was, however, beyond Ned's +knowledge. A cheerful whistling from the back of the house drew Laurie +past the front entrance, and he found Bob, attired in any but festal +garments, swinging open the bulkhead doors. A pair of old gray trousers +and a disreputable brown sweater formed most of his costume. At sight of +Laurie he gave a joyful whoop. + +"Merry Christmas!" he called. "I was going over to see you in a minute. +Thomas is in bed with a cold or something, and I'm furnace-man and +general factotle--" + +"Factotum, you mean," laughed Laurie. + +"All right! As you fellows say, what do I care? I don't own it. Now +you're here, you can just give me a hand with this load of junk. Dad +says it doesn't look shipshape for Christmas." Bob indicated more than a +dozen paint-cans, empty, partly empty, or unopened, and a mess of +brushes, paddles, and rags that they had set there last evening. "I +suppose a lot of these might as well be thrown away, but we'll dump the +whole caboodle down in the cellar for now." + +"All right," agreed Laurie. "First, though, here's something that Ned +and I thought you might like. It isn't anything much, you know, Bob; +just a--a trinket." + +"For me?" Bob took the little packet, and removed the paper and then the +lid, disclosing a pair of silver cuff-links lying in a nest of +cotton-wool. As Laurie said, they weren't much, but they were neat and +the jeweler had made a very good job of the three plain block letters, +R. D. S., that he had engraved on them. "Gee, they're corking!" +exclaimed Bob, with unmistakable sincerity. "I needed them, too, Nod. I +lost one of a pair just the other day, and--" + +"I know you did. That's why we got those." + +"Well, I'm awfully much obliged. They're great. I've got a couple of +little things upstairs for you chaps. They aren't nearly so nice as +these, but I'll get 'em--" + +"Wait till we finish this job," said Laurie. "Grab a handful and come +on. Is Thomas very sick?" + +"I guess not," replied Bob, as he followed the other down the steps. "He +ate some breakfast, but aunt thought he'd better stay in bed. I had a +great time with the furnace this morning. Got up at half-past six and +shoveled coal to beat the band!" + +"Where do you want to put these?" asked Laurie. + +"Anywhere, I guess. Hold on; let's dump 'em on the shelves in the closet +there. Then they'll be out of the way. Some day we'll clean the cans all +out, and maybe we'll get enough to paint that arbor we're going to +build. Here you are." + +Bob led the way to a small room built against the rear wall of the big +cellar. Designed for a preserve closet, its shelves had probably long +been empty of aught save dust, and the door, wide open, hung from one +hinge. It was some six feet broad and perhaps five feet deep, built of +matched boards. Before Bob entered the cobwebby doorway with his load of +cans, its only contents were an accumulation of empty preserve-jars in a +wooden box set on the cement floor beneath a lower shelf at the back. +There were eight shelves across the rear wall, divided in the center by +a vertical board into two tiers. Bob placed his load on a lower shelf +and Laurie put his on the shelf above. As he drew away he noticed that +the shelf appeared to have worked out from the boards at the back, and +he gave it a blow on the edge with the flat of one hand. It slipped back +into place, but, to his surprise, it came forward again an inch or two, +and all the other shelves in that tier came with it! + +"Hey!" said Laurie, startled. + +Bob, at the doorway, turned. "What's the matter?" he asked. + +"Nothing, only--" Laurie took hold of the shelf above the loosened one +and pulled. It yielded a little, and so did the other shelves and the +rear wall of the cubicle, but it was only a matter of less than an inch. +Bob, at his side, looked on interestedly. + +"That's funny," he said. "Push on it." + +Laurie pushed, and the tier went back a couple of inches. "Looks like +this side was separate from the rest," said Laurie. "What's the idea of +having it come out like that?" + +"Search me!" answered Bob. "Pull it toward you again and let me have a +look." A second later he exclaimed: "The whole side is loose, Nod, but +it can't come out because the ends of the shelves strike this partition +board! Try it again!" Laurie obeyed, moving the tier back and forth +three or four times as far as it would go. Bob shook his head in +puzzlement, his gaze roving around the dim interior. Then, "Look here," +he said. "The shelves on the side aren't on a level with the back ones, +Nod." + +"What of it?" + +"Nothing, maybe; only, if the back swung out the side shelves wouldn't +stop it! See what I mean?" + +"Not exactly. Anyhow, it doesn't swing out, so what's the--" + +"Hold on!" Bob sprang forward and seized the edge of a shelf in the +right-hand tier close to the partition board, and pulled. It readily +yielded an inch, but no more. + +"Wait!" Laurie bent and pulled aside the box of jars. "Now!" + +Then, as Bob tugged, to their amazement the right-hand tier swung toward +them, its lower edge scraping on the cement floor, and the left-hand +tier swung with it, the whole back wall of the closet, shelves and all, +opening toward them like a pair of double doors! + +"Gee!" whispered Laurie. "What do you suppose--" + +"Pull them wide open and let's find out," said Bob recklessly. + +When the two sides were open as far as they would go, there was an +aperture between them some three feet wide. Beyond it was darkness, +though, as they gazed, the stones of the cellar wall took shape dimly. +Then Laurie seized Bob's arm. + +"Look!" he whispered excitedly. Behind, where the left-hand tier of +shelves had stood, was a blacker patch about three feet high by two feet +wide, which, as they stared in fascination, evolved itself into an +opening in the wall. + +"Know what I think?" asked Bob, in low tones. "I think we've found the +miser's hiding-place, Nod!" + +"Honest? Maybe it's just a--a drain or something. Got a match?" + +"There are some over by the furnace. Hold your horses!" Bob hurried out, +and was back in a moment and was standing at the opening between the +doors with a lighted match held toward the opening in the wall. As the +little light grew they saw that the stones of the wall had been removed +from a space of a foot above the floor and three feet high and some two +feet wide. Around the opening so made cement had been applied in the +form of a smooth casing. + +The match flickered and went out, and in the succeeding gloom the two +boys stared at each other with wide eyes. + +"Would you dare go in there?" asked Laurie. + +"Sure! Why not? It can't be anything but a sort of cave underground. +Wait till I get a candle." + +"A lantern would be better," suggested Laurie, viewing the hole +dubiously. + +"That's so, and there's one here somewhere. I noticed it the other day." +Bob's voice came from the cellar beyond, and Laurie heard him walking +around out there. Then, "I've got it!" Bob called. "There's oil in it, +too! Now we'll have a look!" + +Laurie heard the chimney of the lantern squeak as it was forced up and +then drop into place again. Then a wan light came toward the closet, and +Bob appeared, triumphant and excited. "Wait till I turn it up a bit. +There we are! Come on!" + +They passed through between the doors, Bob leading, and stooped before +the hole in the wall. Bob held the lantern inside, and Laurie peered +over his shoulder. "Gee, it's high," whispered the latter. + +"Yes, and it isn't a cave at all; it's a tunnel!" said Bob, in awed +tones. "What do you say?" + +"I'll go, if you will," replied Laurie, stoutly; and without much +enthusiasm Bob ducked his head and crawled through. Past the two-foot +wall was a passage, more than head-high and about a yard in width, stone +walled and arched, that led straight ahead farther than the light of the +lantern penetrated. The walls were dry, but the earthen floor was damp +to the touch. There was a musty odor, though the air in there seemed +fresh. + +"Where do you suppose it goes to?" asked Bob, in a hushed voice. + +"I can't imagine. But it runs straight back from the cellar, and so it +must pass under the garden. Let's--let's go on, Bob." + +"Sure! Only I thought we were going to find old Coventry's treasure!" + +"How do you know we aren't?" asked Laurie. + +"That's so! Maybe he buried it under the garden." Their footfalls +sounded clearly on the hard-packed earth floor as they went ahead. +Suddenly Bob, in the lead, uttered an exclamation, and Laurie jumped a +foot and then hurried forward to where the other was standing. Beside +him, its point buried in the floor of the tunnel, was the lost crowbar! + +"What do you know?" gasped Bob. "We're under the farther end of the +arbor. That bar came through between those stones up here." He touch the +crevice in the arched roof with a finger. "See the dirt it brought down +with it? Well, that explains that mystery!" + +"Yes, but--where does this thing go to, Bob?" + +"Let's find out. It can't go much farther, because the arbor was only +about forty feet from the back fence." + +But they went that forty feet and perhaps forty more before the wavering +light of the lantern showed them a stout wooden door across their path. +Formed of two-inch planking and strengthened with three broad cleats, it +was hinged to a frame of concrete. It wasn't a big door, but it looked +very formidable to the two boys who stood there and viewed it dubiously +in the yellow glare of the lantern; for a big square iron lock held it +firmly in place. + +"Guess we don't go any farther," said Bob, dryly. + +"Maybe the key's here somewhere," Laurie suggested; and, although Bob +scoffed at the suggestion, they searched thoroughly but without success. + +"We could bust it," Bob said; "only maybe we haven't any right to." + +"I don't see why not, Bob. We discovered it. Let's!" + +"We-ell, but one of us'll have to go for a hammer or something." + +"Sure; I'll go." + +"And leave me here in the dark? I guess not!" + +"We'll both go, then. Hold on! What's the matter with the crowbar?" + +"Of course! I never thought of that! I'll fetch it!" The light receded +down the tunnel until it was small and dim, and Laurie, left alone in +front of the mysterious portal, felt none too happy. Of course there was +nothing to be afraid of, but he was awfully glad when the light drew +nearer again and Bob returned. "You hold this," directed Bob, "and I'll +give it a couple of whacks." + +Laurie took the lantern, and Bob brought the bar down smartly on the +lock. Probably it was old and rusty, for it broke into pieces under the +blow, and in another instant they had thrust the heavy bolt back. Then +Bob took a long breath and pulled the door toward them. The hinges +squeaked loudly, startlingly, in the silence. Before them lay darkness, +and Laurie, leaning past the doorway, raised the lantern high. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV--A MERRY CHRISTMAS + + +"Guess Laurie got lost," grumbled Ned, kicking one foot against the step +and looking across the yard. + +George laughed. "Guess you could find him if you went as far as the +Widow's, Nid." + +"Well, he ought to be back. It's nearly time for the tree, isn't it?" +Characteristically, Ned saved himself the trouble of determining the +matter for himself, and it was George who looked at his watch. + +"There's 'most an hour yet. Let's go and have a look for him. He and Bob +are probably at Polly's." + +But they didn't get as far as Polly's just then, for when they reached +the corner they descried Laurie tearing along the side yard of the +Coventry place. At sight of them he moderated his speed slightly and +began to shout, waving both hands in a quite demented manner. + +"What's he saying?" asked George. "What's wrong?" + +"Wants us to hurry," grumbled Ned. "We are hurrying, you idiot!" he +continued, raising his voice. But he hurried faster, George at his +heels, and met Laurie at the front gate. + +"What's your trouble?" he demanded. "House on fire? Bob got the croup? +What is it? Can't you talk?" + +"Can't tell you," panted Laurie. "You've got to see--for yourself! Come +on!" + +He seized Ned by one arm, and pulled him away and around the house and +down the bulkhead steps, George loping after them. In the cellar stood +Bob, disreputable in his old clothes and adorned with dust and cobwebs, +a lighted lantern in one hand. + +"Has he told you?" he cried, as the others piled down the stairs. + +"Told me? He hasn't told anything," gasped Ned, shaking himself free at +last. "What is it?" + +Bob laughed loudly and gleefully. "Then come on!" he shouted. He dashed +into the preserve closet, Ned, George, and Laurie at his heels, passed +from sight for an instant, and was seen again crawling through a hole in +the wall. Ned and George showered questions as they pattered along the +tunnel, but all they received in reply was insane laughter and a +meaningless, breathless jumble of words. And then they were at the +farther portal, and Bob led the way through, and they followed. + +They found themselves in a small cellar-like compartment scarcely four +paces square. It was windowless, although, close to the raftered ceiling +in the rear wall, two oblongs of brick set in the stone showed where at +some time small windows had been. The floor was paved with flat stones. +In one corner, the only objects there, were a small iron chest, its lid +swung open and back, and a crowbar. The newcomers stared in amazement, +the truth slowly dawning on them. It was Laurie who spoke first. + +"Go and look!" he said excitedly. + +Ned and George obeyed. Within the chest lay four fat, heavy brownish +envelopes, bound and tied with pink tape. + +"Take one out and open it," said Bob over Ned's shoulder. + +Ned picked up one. Across one end was written in scrawly characters the +inscription "Gov't." + +"'Government,'" explained Laurie, softly. "It's full of United States +bonds. Nearly a dozen of them. Have a look." + +"Geewhillikins!" breathed Ned, in awe, as he drew the folded contents +into the light. "Old Coventry's, do you mean?" + +"Of course! Whose else? And there are three more lots. We haven't +figured them up yet, but there must be fifty thousand dollars' worth!" + +"Maybe they're no good," offered George. + +"How do you mean, no good?" asked Ned indignantly. "United States bonds +are always good!" + +"Well, the others--" + +"They're railroad bonds, all of them, three different lots," said Bob. +"I guess they're all right, too, don't you, Ned?" + +"Right as rain! Why, the old codger--What's that?" he asked suddenly, +looking ceiling-ward. Laurie laughed. + +"That's what we wondered," he answered. "We jumped when we heard it +first. Don't you know where you are?" + +Ned looked around him and shook his head. + +"Under the Widow Deane's house!" + +"Wha-at! But Polly said there wasn't any cellar!" + +"She doesn't know any better. Look above you. See where the stairway +went? The old chap must have torn it away and boarded the hole up; and +bricked up the windows, too. It must have cost him a pretty penny to do +all this!" + +"What--what are you going to do with it?" asked George, pointing to the +chest. + +"Why, hand it over to the lawyers, whoever they are, I suppose," +answered Bob. "But first of all we're going to take those bonds and dump +them into the Widow's lap. I always said I'd hand it all over to her, +when I found it. I never thought I would find it, but I have--or Laurie +has, because if he hadn't noticed that the shelves were loose we never +would--" + +"Besides," interrupted George, "she comes in for a share of the money. +Come on, fellows! Let's do it now! Gee, it will be some Christmas +present!" + +"Won't it? Let's each one take a package," said Laurie. "We'll leave +everything just as it is for the lawyer folks. Come on!" + +"Say, fellows, there's an awfully funny smell down here," observed +George. "Sort of--sort of sweet, like--like violets or something. Notice +it?" + +"Yes, I noticed it before I got in here, though," said Ned. "Wonder what +it is." + +"Oh, places like this get to smelling funny after they've been shut up +for a while," said Bob. "And I guess this place hasn't been opened for +two years, eh?" + +"Of course not; not since old Coventry died. Just the same, it's a +mighty funny odor." And George sniffed again perplexedly. Laurie, who +had withdrawn to the door, unconsciously placed a hand in one jacket +pocket, where, within a crushed cardboard box, some fragments of glass +were all that remained of Polly's present! In prying open the lid of the +chest he had brought the end of the crowbar against that pocket, and now +the purchase was only a memory, albeit a fragrant one. + +Some three minutes later four flushed-faced and very joyous youths burst +into the Widow Deane's shop. To the jangling of the little bell in the +back room Polly appeared, a very pretty, bright-eyed Polly this morning +in a new Christmas dress. + +"Merry Christmas!" she cried. "Merry Christmas, Nid! Merry Christmas, +Bob! Merry Christmas, George! Merry Christmas, Nod!" + +Perhaps Laurie should have felt hurt that his own greeting had come +last; but he wasn't, for a glance went with it that hadn't accompanied +the others. But, although the boys answered the greetings in chorus, it +was apparent to Polly that they were there for another purpose than to +wish her a Merry Christmas. + +"Where's your mother!" demanded Bob. + +"In there." Polly pointed to the back room, and without ceremony the +four filed past and into the little living-room. Mrs. Deane was seated +in a rocker, her spectacles pushed down on her nose, a paper across her +knees, and her eyes fixed in smiling inquiry on the doorway. + +Bob led the way. On the outspread paper he laid a brown envelop. "Wish +you a Merry Christmas, ma'am," he said. + +Laurie followed, deposited his envelop beside Bob's, repeated the +greeting, and drew aside to make way for Nod and George. The Widow +looked inquiringly from the stout envelops to the boys, smiling +tolerantly the while. Boys were always up to pranks, and she liked them, +boys and pranks both! + +"What are these?" she asked, finally, when the fourth envelop lay in her +lap. + +Polly, looking over her shoulder, gasped as she read the writing on one +of the packets, and her eyes, as round as round, looked across at +Laurie. + +"_Nod! They aren't--You haven't--_" + +"Yes, they are!" cried Laurie. "Look and see for yourself! Open them, +Mrs. Deane!" + + * * * * * + +Ten minutes later, when the first excitement had somewhat subsided, +Polly clapped her hands. + +"Why," she cried, "now we know what those sounds were we used to hear, +Mama! They were Uncle Peter down there in the cellar! They were his +footsteps! And only a little while ago I thought I heard sounds sort of +like them! And that must have been you boys!" + +"Of course," agreed Bob. "And we could hear you folks up here quite +plainly. There goes my last hope of catching a ghost!" + +"How many are there to share in the money, Mrs. Deane?" asked George. + +"Dear me, I'm not quite sure." She looked inquiringly over her +spectacles at Polly. "Weren't there seven, dear?" + +"Eight, Mama." + +"Well, even then it isn't so bad" said George. "One eighth of +sixty-two-thousand--" + +"Seven thousand seven hundred and fifty," announced Laurie, promptly. +"And the bonds may be worth more than we figured, ma'am!" + +"Well, I'm sure," answered Mrs. Deane, "seven thousand dollars is seven +times more money than I ever expected to see! I shan't know what to do +with it." She looked quite alarmed and helpless for a moment, but Polly +patted her shoulder reassuringly. + +"You must invest it, dearest, and then you won't have to keep this place +any longer, because when I go to work--" + +But, instead of vanishing, the Widow Deane's alarm increased. "Oh, I +couldn't give up the store, Polly!" she gasped. "Why--why, what would I +do with myself all day?" + +"Yes'm that's so!" declared Ned, heartily. "Gee, you couldn't do that! +Why, we wouldn't have any place to buy cream-puffs!" + +"I guess I would keep on with the store," Mrs. Deane concluded, when the +laughter had subsided. "I'm afraid I'd never be very happy if I didn't +have you boys around. Well, it's certainly very wonderful, isn't it, +Polly?" + +"It's--it's heavenly!" declared Polly. "This is just the most beautiful +Christmas there ever was or ever will be! And I don't see how we can +ever thank you all for finding--" + +"Gosh!" exclaimed Laurie. "The Doctor's tree, fellows! We'll have to +beat it! We'll leave the bonds here until to-morrow--eh?" + +"But I want to see the tunnel and--and everything!" cried Polly. + +"That's so! We'll come over after dinner. Come on, fellows! Neddie, come +away from those tarts!" + +"I was only looking," sighed Ned. + +Mrs. Deane and Polly went with them to the door. Down the street the +deep-toned bell in the Congregational church was ringing, and, farther +away, other bells were joining in a chorus of glad triumph. Mrs. Deane, +listening, held a very happy look in her face. On the sidewalk, Ned and +Laurie dropped behind their companions, paused, and faced the doorway. +There was a quick exchange of glances between them, and then, bowing, +Ned began and Laurie finished: + + "A Merry Christmas and well-filled bins," + "Is the hearty wish of the Turner Twins!" + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS *** + +***** This file should be named 37209-8.txt or 37209-8.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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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/37209-8.zip b/old/37209-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f85711 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/37209-8.zip diff --git a/old/37209-h.zip b/old/37209-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38e0278 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/37209-h.zip diff --git a/old/37209.txt b/old/37209.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..717796e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/37209.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7592 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Turner Twins + +Author: Ralph Henry Barbour + +Illustrator: C. M. Relyea + +Release Date: August 26, 2011 [EBook #37209] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: Through the secret door] + + + + + THE + TURNER TWINS + + BY + RALPH HENRY BARBOUR + + Author of "The Crimson Sweater," "Harry's Island," + "Team-Mates," etc. + + ILLUSTRATED BY + C. M. RELYEA + + NEW YORK + THE CENTURY CO. + 1922 + + + + + Copyright, 1921, 1922, by + The Century Co. + + PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. + + + + + CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I Introduces a Pair of Shoes 3 + II The Girl in the White Middy 13 + III Cakes and Ale 28 + IV Kewpie Starts Something 37 + V In the Performance of Duty 52 + VI Ned is Firm 61 + VII High School Accepts Defeat 70 + VIII In the Miser's House 84 + IX Laurie Hears News 98 + X Polly Entertains 110 + XI Ned Speaks Out 120 + XII The Committee on Arrangements 130 + XIII Ned Gets into the Game 141 + XIV The Fete 154 + XV Ned Has an Idea 170 + XVI Polly Tells a Spook Story 179 + XVII Laurie Makes a Protest 190 + XVIII Before the Battle 201 + XIX Ned is Missing 213 + XX For the Honor of the Turners 223 + XXI The Understudy 238 + XXII The Boys Make a Present 250 + XXIII The Secret Passage 262 + XXIV A Merry Christmas 272 + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +Through the secret door Frontispiece + +"Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!" 36 + +"But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" asked Polly 136 + +"Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em." 240 + + + + +THE TURNER TWINS + + + + +CHAPTER I--INTRODUCES A PAIR OF HEROES + + +"Jail," said the boy in the gray flannels. + +"School," pronounced the boy in the blue serge. + +"Bet you!" + +"No, sir, you owe me ten cents now. You didn't pay up the last time." + +"It's wrong to bet for money, Ned." + +The other set down the suitcase he was carrying and scoffed. "Yes, when +you lose," he observed, with deep sarcasm. "That's thirty-five cents you +owe me. You bet in Chicago that--" + +"That debt's outlawed. Chicago's in Michigan--" + +"Bet you!" + +"And this is New York, and so--" + +"Mighty good thing Dad sent you to school, Laurie. Chicago's in +Illinois, you ignoramus." + +"Is it? Well, who cares?" Laurence Stenman Turner had also deposited the +bag he was carrying on the brick sidewalk and was applying a +lavender-bordered handkerchief to a moist brow. "Just the same, that's a +jail." + +"If that's a jail, I'll eat my hat," declared the other, + +"It's not a school, though, and that's flat," was the prompt retort. + +"Huh, that was an easy one!" Edward Anderson Turner retreated to a +flat-topped stone wall bordering a well-shaded lawn and seated himself +with a sigh of relief. His companion followed suit. Behind them, grass +and trees and flower beds made a pleasant setting for a square gray +house, half hidden from the street. Overhead a horse-chestnut tree +spread low branches across the sidewalk. The quiet village street +ascended gently, curving as it went, empty in both directions. Somewhere +on a neighboring thoroughfare a scissors-grinder was punctuating the +silence with the musical _ding--dang--dong_ of bells. In a near-by tree +a locust was making his shrill clatter. Across the way, the subject of +contention, stood a large red-brick edifice, stone trimmed, many +windowed, costly and unlovely. The boys viewed it silently. Then their +glances fell to the two black suitcases on the curbing. + +"How far did that hombre say it was to the school?" asked Ned Turner, +after a minute of silence. + +"Three quarters of a mile." + +"How far have we walked already?" + +"Mile and a half." + +"Consequently?" + +"Said hombre was a li--was unvoracious." + +"Un-_ver_-acious is the word, old son." + +"What do we care? We don't own it," replied Laurie, cheerfully. "Want to +go on?" + +Ned shook his head slowly. "What time have you got?" he asked. + +"What time do you want?" was the flippant response. + +With a sigh, Ned pulled back his left sleeve and looked at his watch. +"It's only about a quarter to twelve. We don't have to get there until +six if we don't want to." + +"I know, but I couldn't sit on this wall all that time! Besides, what +about lunch?" + +"I'm not very hungry," was the sad reply. + +"That's the trouble with having your breakfast late." + +"That's the trouble with eating two plates of griddle-cakes, you mean," +retorted Laurie. "Anyway, I'm hungry if you're not. Let's go." + +But he made no move, and they continued to dangle their shoes from the +wall and gaze lazily across the shady street. The scissors-grinder's +chime died in the distance. Farther down the street the whirring of a +lawn-mower competed with the locust. + +"Upon a wall they sat them down," murmured Ned, turning a challenging +look on his companion. + +"Lost in the wilds of Orstead Town," added Laurie. + +Ned nodded mild approval and once more silence held. + +Save that one was dressed in gray and the other in blue, the two boys +were strikingly alike. Each was slim of body and round of face, with +red-brown hair and a short, slightly impertinent nose. Ned's eyes were a +trifle bluer than Laurie's and he had the advantage--if advantage it +was--of some five pounds of weight. But neither of these facts was +apparent at first glance. Faces and hands were well browned and the pair +looked extremely healthy. They were dressed neatly, with perhaps more +attention to detail than is usual in lads of their age, their attire +terminating at one end in well-polished brown shoes and at the other in +immaculate black derbies. Their age was fifteen years, three months, and +eleven days. Which, of course, leads you to the correct conclusion that +they were twins. + +"Maybe," hazarded Laurie, presently, "we've lost our way." + +"Don't just see how we could," Ned objected. "The old chap at the +station said we were to keep right along up Walnut Street. This is still +Walnut Street, isn't it?" + +"I suppose so." Laurie's glance strayed right and left. "Must be; I +don't see any walnuts." + +"Guess the only 'nuts' are right here. Come on, let 's hit the trail +again." Ned slid to his feet and took up his burden. "Why the dickens we +didn't take that carriage the fellow wanted to sell us is more than I +see." + +"'Cause we needed the exercise. Also, 'cause we're down to a dollar and +fourteen cents between us--unless you 're holding out." + +"Well, I'm not!" replied Ned, indignantly. "I paid for the breakfasts in +New York--" + +"And I paid for dinner on the diner last night--" + +"Who said you didn't?" They went on leisurely, and presently Ned +continued: "Say, suppose we don't like this ranch after we get +there--then what, old son?" + +Laurie considered thoughtfully. Then, "Two things we can do," he +pronounced. "No, three. We can put up with it, change it to suit us, or +leave it." + +"Leave it! Yes, we can! On a dollar and fourteen cents?" + +"We'll have nearly twenty more when we cash Dad's check and pay the term +bill. Twenty dollars would take us back to New York and buy a lot of +griddle-cakes, anyway." + +Laurie's voice was partly drowned by a small delivery automobile that +dashed into sight at a corner ahead and sped by with a clamor worthy of +a four-ton truck. The brothers looked after it interestedly. "That's the +first sign of life we've seen," said Ned. "Say, I do wish this street +would stop twisting this way. First thing we know, we'll be back at the +station!" + +"Bet you I'd hop the first freight then. I've got a hunch that we're not +going to care for Hillman's School." + +"Speak for yourself. I am. I like this town, too. It's pretty." + +"Oh, it's pretty enough," grumbled Laurie, "but it went to sleep about a +century ago and hasn't waked up since. Here's somebody coming; let's ask +where the school is." + +"It's just a girl." + +"What of it? She probably knows." + +The girl appeared to be of about their own age and wore a white middy +dress with black trimming and a scarlet tie knotted below a V of +sun-browned throat. She wore no hat and her dark hair was gathered into +a single braid. As she drew near she gave the boys a quick glance of +appraisal from a pair of gravely friendly brown eyes. It was Ned who +shifted his suitcase to his left hand and raised his derby. It was +always Ned who spoke first; after that, they alternated scrupulously. + +"Would you please tell us where Hillman's School is?" he asked. + +The girl stopped and her somewhat serious face lighted with a smile. +"It's right there," she replied, and nodded. + +The boys turned to the blankness of a high privet hedge behind an iron +fence. The girl laughed softly. "Behind the hedge, I mean," she +explained. "The gate is a little way around the corner there, on Summit +Street." + +"Oh," said Laurie. That laugh was contagious, and he grinned in +response. "A man at the station told us it was only three quarters of a +mile, but we've been walking for hours!" + +"I guess it's nearer a mile than three quarters," answered the girl, +slowly. She appeared to be giving the matter very serious consideration +and two little thoughtful creases appeared above her nose, a small, +straight nose that was bridged by a sprinkling of freckles. Then the +smile came again. "Maybe it did seem longer, though," she acknowledged, +"for it's uphill all the way; and then, you had your bags. You're new +boys, aren't you?" + +Ned acknowledged it, adding, "Think we'll like it?" + +The girl seemed genuinely surprised. "Why, of course! Every one likes +it. What a perfectly funny idea!" + +"Well," said Laurie, defensively, "we've never tried boarding-school +before, you see. Dad didn't know anything about Hillman's, either. He +chose it on account of the way the advertisement read in a magazine. +Something about 'a moderate discipline rigidly enforced.'" + +The girl laughed again. (She had a jolly sort of laugh, they decided.) +"You're--you're twins, aren't you?" she asked. + +"He is," replied Ned, gravely. + +"Why--why, aren't you both?" Her brown eyes grew very round and the +little lines creased her nose again. + +"It's this way," explained Laurie. "Ned was born first, and so, as there +was only one of him, he wasn't a twin. Then I came, and that made two of +us, and I was a twin. You see, don't you? It's really quite plain." + +The girl shook her head slowly in puzzlement. "I--I'm afraid I don't," +she answered apologetically. "You _must_ be twins--both of you, I +mean--because you both look just like both--I mean, each other!" Then +she caught the sparkle of mischief in Ned's blue eyes and laughed. Then +they all laughed. After which they seemed suddenly to be very good +friends, such good friends that Laurie abandoned custom and spoke out of +turn. + +"I suppose you know a lot of the fellows," he said. + +The girl shook her head. "N--no, not any, really. Of course, I see most +of them when they come to Mother's, but she doesn't like me to--to +_know_ them." + +"Of course not," approved Ned. "She's dead right, too. They're a pretty +poor lot, I guess." + +"Oh, no, they're not, really! Only, you see--" She stopped, and then +went on a trifle breathlessly: "I guess she wouldn't be awfully pleased +if she saw me now! I--I hope you'll like the school." + +She nodded and went on. + +"Thanks," called Laurie. "If we don't like it, we'll change it. +Good-by." + +"Nice kid," observed Ned, tolerantly, as they turned the corner of the +hedge. "Wonder who she is. She said most of the fellows went to her +mother's. Maybe her mother gives dancing lessons or something, eh?" + +"If she does, she won't see me," responded his brother, firmly. "No +dancing for mine." + +"Maybe it's compulsory." + +"Maybe it's esthetic," retorted Laurie, derisively. "It makes no never +mind. I'm agin it. This must be the place. Yes, there's a sign." + +It was a very modest sign a-swing from a rustic post beside a broad +entrance giving on to a well-kept drive. "Hillman's School--Entrance +Only," it read. Laurie stopped in pretended alarm and laid a detaining +clutch on Ned's shoulder. + +"'Entrance Only'! Sounds as if we couldn't ever get out again, Ned! Do +you dare?" + +Ned looked doubtfully through at the curving drive and the red-brick +building that showed beyond the border of trees and shrubbery. Then he +threw back his shoulders and set foot bravely within. + +"Come, comrade, let us know the worst!" + +Laurie, with a gesture of resignation, followed. + +"What you durst I will likewise durst!" + + + + +CHAPTER II--THE GIRL IN THE WHITE MIDDY + + +When Doctor John Hyde Hillman started a modest school for boys, on the +bank of the Hudson River, at Orstead, the town barely crept to the one +brick building that contained dormitory and recitation-rooms. But that +was nearly twenty years ago, and to-day the place is no longer isolated, +but stands well inside the residence section of the village. There are +four buildings, occupying most of an unusually large block. School Hall, +four stories in height, is a red-brick, slate-roofed edifice, whose +unloveliness has been mercifully hidden by ivy. It faces Summit Street +and contains the class-rooms, the offices, and, at one end, the +principal's quarters. Flanking it are the two dormitories, East Hall and +West Hall. These, while of brick too, are modern and far more +attractive. Each contains sleeping-rooms to accommodate forty students, +two masters' studies, a recreation-hall, dining-room, kitchen, and +service-rooms. Behind East Hall is the gymnasium, a picturesque +structure of random-set stone, gray stucco, and much glass. Here, +besides the gymnasium proper, is an auditorium of good size, a modest +swimming-tank, locker-room and baths, and a commodious office presided +over by Mr. Wells, the physical director. From the gymnasium steps one +looks across an attractive, well-kept quadrangle of shaded turf, +vegetable and flower gardens, and tennis-courts. + +Doctor Hillman occupies an apartment at the west end of the School Hall, +gained from the building by way of the school offices, and from without +by way of a wide porch, vine screened in summer and glassed in winter, +an outdoor living-room where, on seasonable Friday afternoons, the +doctor's maiden sister, Miss Tabitha, who keeps house for him, serves +weak tea and layer-cake to all comers. Miss Tabitha, I regret to say, is +known among the boys as "Tabby," with, however, no more intention of +disrespect than in alluding to the doctor as "Johnny." Miss Tabitha's +thin body holds a warm heart, and her somewhat stern countenance belies +her kindly ways. + +On this fifteenth day of September, shortly after twelve o'clock, Miss +Tabitha was seated on the vine-shaded porch in an erect and +uncompromising attitude, her knitting-needles clicking busily. Near by, +but a few moments before released from the office, the doctor was +stretched in a long wicker chair, a morning paper before him. At the +other end of the porch, a gate-legged table was spread for the mid-day +meal, and a middle-aged colored woman--who, when it pleased her, +answered to the name of Aunt Persis--shuffled in and out of sight at +intervals. It was Miss Tabitha who, hearing the sound of steps on the +walk, peered over her glasses and broke the silence. + +"Two more of the boys are coming, John," she announced. + +The doctor grunted. + +"I think they are new boys. Yes, I am sure they are. And bless my soul, +John, they're alike as two peas!" + +"Alike?" The doctor rustled the paper to indicate interest. "Well, why +shouldn't they be? Probably they're brothers. Let me see, weren't those +two boys from California brothers? Of course. Turner's the name." + +"Well, I never saw two boys so much alike in all my born days," Miss +Tabitha marveled. "Do you suppose they can be twins, John?" + +"It's quite within the realm of probability," was the reply. "I believe +that twins do occur occasionally, even in the--er--best-regulated +families." + +"Well, they certainly _are_ twins!" Miss Tabitha laid down her work, +brushed the front of her immaculate dress, and prepared to rise. "I +suppose I had better go and meet them," she added. + +"I don't see the necessity for it, my dear," the doctor protested. +"Cummins may, I think, be relied on to deal even with--er--twins." + +"Of course; but--still--California's such a long way--and they may feel +strange--or lonesome--" + +The doctor laughed gently. "Then by all means go, my dear. If you like, +have them out here for a few minutes. If the resemblance between them is +as striking as you seem to think, they must be worth seeing." + +When Miss Tabitha had tripped into the house, the doctor dropped his +paper, stretched luxuriously, and, with a sigh of protest, sat up. He +was several years younger than his sister--which is to say, in the +neighborhood of forty-seven. He was a smallish man, compactly built, +with a pleasant countenance on which a carefully-trimmed Vandyke beard +made up to an extent for the lack of hair above. He wore shell-rimmed +glasses and was very near-sighted, a fact emphasized by his manner of +thrusting his head forward to eke out the deficiencies of his lenses. +This trick was apparent a minute later when, following in the tripping +footsteps of Miss Tabitha, the two boys emerged on the porch. They were +amazingly alike, the doctor decided: same height, same breadth at hip +and shoulder, same coloring, same leisurely, yet confident, ease of +movement, same expression of lively curiosity twinkling through an +almost depressingly respectful solemnity. + +"These are the Turner boys," announced Miss Tabitha. "This is Edward and +this is--" She halted to look doubtfully from one to the other. "Or--or +perhaps _this_ is Edward and--Dear me!" + +"I'm Edward, ma'am," said the boy in blue. + +"Well, I don't see how you can ever be _certain_ of it!" sighed Miss +Tabitha, doubtfully. "This is Doctor Hillman." + +They shook hands, and in a moment the boys found themselves seated side +by side and replying to the doctor's questions. + +"You are entering with certificates from your high school principal, I +believe, young gentlemen. What year were you?" + +"Second, sir," answered Ned. + +"And your home is in--" + +"Santa Lucia, sir," replied Laurie. + +"California," added Ned. + +"Well, you're quite a ways from home. Did you make the trip alone?" + +"Yes, sir. Dad was coming with us as far as Chicago, but something +happened so he couldn't. We didn't have any trouble, though." + +"Really? Well, I believe you have the distinction of residing farther +away than any of your fellows here. I don't recall any one who lives as +far away as California; do you, sister?" + +Miss Tabitha looked doubtful and hesitated an instant before she +replied, "George Watson comes from Wyoming, I think, John." + +"So he does," assented the doctor, gravely; "but measured in a straight +line, my dear, California is slightly farther than Wyoming." + +"Is it?" asked Miss Tabitha, untroubled. "I never could remember where +those western States are." + +"You remember many more important things, however. My sister, boys, +fancied that she detected a certain resemblance between you, and even +surmised that you might be--er--twins. Doubtless she's mistaken." + +"No, sir," answered Ned, more than a trace of surprise in his voice. "I +mean, we are twins, sir." + +"Why, now that's interesting! Looking closer--" the doctor leaned +forward and craned his head--"I believe I detect a certain slight +similarity myself!" + +There was a perceptible twinkle behind the glasses and Laurie dared a +laugh, in which the doctor and Ned joined, while Miss Tabitha murmured: +"Well! I should think you _might_!" + +"I hope you are both going to like the school," continued the doctor. +"Of course, you'll find our ways a little different, but we'll try to +make you feel at home. You are the first representatives of your State +who have attended our school, and I trust that both in conduct and +industry you will bring honor to it. Mr. Cornish, your hall master, will +advise you in all matters pertaining to your studies, Other questions +may be taken to Mr. Cummins, the school secretary, whom you have +doubtless already met. But I want you always to feel at perfect liberty +to come to me at any time on any matter at all. And," added the doctor, +with a twinkle, "if we fail you, there is still my sister, who, I assure +you, possesses more wisdom than all of us." + +Miss Tabitha acknowledged the compliment with a little wry smile, and +Ned and Laurie arose. + +"Yes, sir," said the former. + +"Thank you, sir," said Laurie. + +"Luncheon is served at one in West Hall," continued the doctor. "That's +the dormitory behind you there. Beginning with supper to-night, you will +take your meals in your own hall, but only a few of the students have +arrived as yet, and so only one dining-room is open. I'm very glad to +have met you, young gentlemen. Mr. Cummins will direct you to your room. +Good morning." + +Five minutes later, the Turner twins set their suitcases down on the +floor of Number 16 East Hall and looked about them. Number 16 was not +palatial as to size, but it was big enough to hold comfortably the two +single beds, the study-table, the two narrow chiffoniers, and the four +chairs that made up its furnishing. There was a generous-sized closet at +each side of the door, and two windows set close together between the +beds. Under the windows was a wide seat, lacking only pillows to make it +inviting. From the casements the boys looked over or through the topmost +branches of the maples that lined Washington Street and followed Summit +Street as it continued its ascent of the hill and presently leveled out +between a thick wood on one side and an open field on the other. + +"That must be the athletic field," said Laurie. "See the stand there? +And the goal-posts? How do you like it?" + +"The field? Looks all right from here." + +"I mean the whole outfit, you simp; the school and Doctor Hillman and +Miss Frosty-Face and everything." + +"Cut out calling names, Laurie. Miss Hillman's all right. So's the +doctor. So's the school. I like it. Wonder when our trunks will get +here." + +"Half an hour ago you had a hunch you weren't going to like it," jeered +Laurie. "Changed your mind, haven't you?" + +"Yes, and I'm going to change more than my mind." Whereupon Ned opened +his bag and selected a clean shirt. "What time is it?" + +"What do you wear a watch for if you never look at it?" grumbled his +brother. "It's ten to one, Lazy. I'm going to find a place to wash up. I +choose this side of the room, Ned." + +Ned studied the room a moment. "No, you don't," he challenged. "I'll +take this side. I'm the oldest." "There isn't any difference, you chump. +One side's as good as the other." + +"Then you won't mind taking the other," answered Ned, sweetly. "Run +along and find the lavatory. I think it's at the head of the stairs. +Wonder why they put us up two flights." + +"Guess they knew you were naturally lazy and needed the exercise." + +Laurie dodged a pair of traveling slippers in a red-leather case and +disappeared into the corridor. + +Some ten minutes later they descended the stairway together and set out +for West Hall. Laurie drew attention to the gymnasium building, but Ned, +who had recovered his appetite, only deigned it a glance. Two boys, +luggage laden, evidently just arrived, came down the steps of School +Hall as the twins passed, and stared curiously. + +"Guess they've never seen twins before in this part of the world," +grumbled Laurie. "Those chaps nearly popped their eyes out!" + +West Hall proved an exact duplicate of their own dormitory, and the +dining-room occupied all the right end of it. There were about fifteen +boys there, in age varying from fourteen to eighteen, and there was a +perceptible pause in the business of eating when the newcomers entered. +A waitress conducted them to seats at a table already occupied by three +other lads, and asked if they'd have milk or iced tea. Ned, as usual, +answered for both. + +"Iced tea, please, and lots of lemon." + +A very stout boy, sitting across the table, sniggered, and then, +encountering Ned's inquiring regard, said, "Guess you think you're in +the Waldorf!" + + +"What's the Waldorf?" asked Ned. "Don't you get lemon with iced tea +here?" + +"Sure! but you don't get much. Say, are you fellows--twins, or what?" + +"Twins?" repeated Laurie. "Where do you get that stuff? This fellow's +name is Anderson and mine's Stenman. What's yours?" + +"Crow. Honest, is that a fact?" Crow looked appealingly at the other +occupants of the table. These, however, two rather embarrassed-looking +youngsters of fourteen or thereabouts, fixed their eyes on their plates, +and Crow turned his regard incredulously back to the twins. "Gee, you +fellows look enough alike to be--be--" He swallowed the word. "Aren't +you even related?" + +Ned gazed speculatively at Laurie and Laurie gazed speculatively at Ned. +"We might be," hazarded the latter. + +Laurie nodded. "If we went back far enough, we might find a common +ancestor." + +The arrival of luncheon caused a diversion, although Crow, who was a +round-faced, credulous-looking youth of perhaps seventeen, continued to +regard them surreptitiously and in puzzlement. At last, making the +passing of the salt an excuse, for further conversation, he asked, +"Where do you fellows come from?" + +"California," said Ned. + +"Santa Lucia," said Laurie. + +"Well, but," sputtered Crow, "isn't California in Santa--I mean, isn't +Santa--Say, you guys are joking, I'll bet!" + +"Methinks," observed Ned, helping himself gravely to mustard, "his words +sound coarse and vulgar." + +Laurie abstractedly added a fourth teaspoon of sugar to his iced tea. +"Like Turk or Kurd or even Bulgar," he murmured. + +Crow stared, grunted, and pushed his chair back. "You fellows think +you're smart, don't you?" he sputtered. "Bet you you are twins--both of +you!" + +Ned and Laurie looked after him in mild and patient surprise until his +broad back had disappeared from view. Then a choking sound came from one +of the younger lads, and Ned asked gently, "Now what's your trouble, +son?" + +The boy grew very red of face and gave way to giggles. "I knew all the +time you were twins," he gasped. + +"Did you really?" exclaimed Laurie. "Well, listen. Just as a favor to +us, don't say anything about it, eh? You see, we're sort of--sort of--" + +"Sort of sensitive," aided Ned. "We'd rather it wasn't generally known. +You understand, don't you?" + +The boy looked as if he was very far indeed from understanding, but he +nodded, choked again, and muttered something that seemed to indicate +that the secret was safe with him. Laurie thanked him gratefully. + +After luncheon they went sight-seeing about the school, snooped through +the dim corridors and empty class-rooms of School Hall, viewed the +gymnasium and experimented with numerous apparatus, and finally, after +browsing through a flower and vegetable garden behind the recitation +building and watching two boys make a pretense of playing tennis, +returned to Number 16 in the hope of finding their trunks. But the +baggage had not arrived, and presently, since the room was none too +cool, they descended again and followed the curving drive to the right +and past a sign that said "Exit Only" and wandered west on Summit +Street. + +For the middle of September in the latitude of southern New York the +weather was decidedly warm, and neither grass nor trees hinted that +autumn had arrived. In the well-kept gardens across the way, scarlet +sage and cosmos, asters and dahlias made riots of color. + +"Hot!" grunted Ned, running a finger around the inside of his collar. + +"Beastly," agreed Laurie, removing his cap and fanning his heated face. +"Wonder where the river is. If we had our bathing-suits, maybe we could +go for a swim." + +"Yes, and if we had a cake of ice we could sit on it!" responded Ned, +sarcastically. "This place is hotter than Santa Lucia." + +At the next corner they turned again to the right. Morton Street, like +so many of the streets in Orstead, refused to go straight, and after a +few minutes, to their mild bewilderment, they found themselves on Walnut +Street once more, a block below the school. + +"I'm not going back yet," said Laurie, firmly. "Let's find a place where +we can get something cool to drink." + +As Walnut Street was unpromising, they crossed it and meandered along +Garden Street. The houses here appeared to be less prosperous, and the +front yards were less likely to hold lawn and flowers than dilapidated +baby-carriages. At the first crossing they peered right and left, and +were rewarded by the sight of a swinging sign at a little distance. + +What the sign said was as yet a mystery, for the trees intervened, but +Laurie declared that he believed in signs and they made their way toward +it. It finally proved to be a very cheerful little sign hung above a +little white door in a little pale-blue two-story house, the lower floor +of which was plainly devoted to commercial purposes. + + L. S. DEANE + BOOKS, TOYS, AND + CONFECTIONERY + CIRCULATING LIBRARY + LAUNDRY AGENCY + TONICS + +That is what the sign said in red letters on a white background. The +windows, many paned, allowed uncertain glimpses of various articles: +tops of red and blue and green, boxes of pencils, pads of paper, jars of +candy, many bottles of ink, a catcher's glove, a dozen tennis-balls, +some paper kites-- + +Laurie dragged Ned inside, through a screen door that, on opening, +caused a bell to tinkle somewhere in the farther recesses of the little +building. It was dark inside, after the glare of the street, and +refreshingly cool. Laurie, leading the way, collided with a bench, +caromed off the end of a counter, and became aware of a figure, dimly +seen, beyond the width of a show-case. + +"Have you anything cold to drink?" asked Ned, leaning across the +show-case. + +"Ginger-ale or tonic or something?" Laurie elaborated. + +"Yes, indeed," replied the apparition, in a strangely familiar voice. +"If you will step over to the other side, please--" + +Ned and Laurie leaned farther across the show-case. + +It was the girl in the white middy dress. + + + + +CHAPTER III--CAKES AND ALE + + +"Hello!" exclaimed the twins, in one voice. + +"Hello," replied the girl, and they suspected that she was smiling, +although their eyes were still too unused to the dimness of the little +store for them to be certain. She was still only a vague figure in +white, with a deeper blur where her face should have been. Treading on +each other's heels, Ned and Laurie followed her to the other side. The +twilight brightened and objects became more distinct. They were in front +of a sort of trough-like box in which, half afloat in a pool of +ice-water, were bottles of tonic and soda and ginger-ale. Behind it was +a counter on which reposed a modest array of pastry. + +"What do you want?" asked the girl in the middy. + +"Ginger-ale," answered Ned. "Say, do you live here?" + +"No, this is the shop," was the reply. "I live upstairs." + +"Oh, well, you know what I mean," muttered Ned. "Is this your store?" + +"It's my mother's. I help in it afternoons. My mother is Mrs. Deane. The +boys call her the Widow. I'm Polly Deane." + +"Pleased to know you," said Laurie. "Our name's Turner. I'm Laurie and +he's Ned. Let me open that for you." + +"Oh, no, thanks. I've opened hundreds of them. Oh dear! You said +ginger-ale, didn't you! And I've opened a root-beer. It's so dark in +here in the afternoon." + +"That's all right," Ned assured her. "We like root-beer. We'd just as +soon have it as ginger-ale. Wouldn't we, Laurie?" + +"You bet! We're crazy about it." + +"Are you sure? It's no trouble to--Well, _this_ is ginger-ale, anyway. +I'm awfully sorry!" + +"What do we care?" asked Ned. "We don't own it." + +"Don't own it?" repeated Polly, in a puzzled tone. + +"That's just an expression of his," explained Laurie. "He's awfully +slangy. I try to break him of it, but it's no use. It's fierce." + +"Of course _you_ don't use slang?" asked Polly, demurely. "Who wants the +root-beer?" + +"You take it," said Laurie, hurriedly. + +"No, you," said Ned. "You're fonder of it than I am, Laurie. I don't +mind, really!" + +Laurie managed a surreptitious kick on his brother's shin. "Tell you +what," he exclaimed, "we'll mix 'em!" + +Ned agreed, though not enthusiastically, and with the aid of a third +glass the deed was done. The boys tasted experimentally, each asking a +question over the rim of his glass. Then looks of relief came over both +faces and they sighed ecstatically. + +"Corking!" they breathed in unison. + +Polly laughed, "I never knew any one to do that before," she said. "I'm +glad you like it. I'll tell the other boys about it." + +"No, you mustn't," protested Ned. "It's our invention. We'll call +it--call it--" + +"Call it an Accident," suggested Laurie. + +"We'll call it a Polly," continued the other. "It really is bully. +It's--it's different; isn't it, Laurie? Have another?" + +"Who were those on?" was the suspicious reply. + +"You. The next is on me. Only maybe another wouldn't taste so good, eh?" + +"Don't you fool yourself! I'll risk that." + +However, the third and fourth bottles, properly combined though they +were, lacked novelty, and it was some time before the last glass was +emptied. Meanwhile, of course, they talked. The boys acknowledged that, +so far, they liked what they had seen of the school. Mention of the +doctor and Miss Hillman brought forth warm praise from Polly. "Every one +likes the doctor ever so much," she declared. "And Miss Tabitha is--" + +"Miss what?" interrupted Laurie. + +"Miss Tabitha. That's her name." Polly laughed softly. "They call her +Tabby,--the boys, I mean,--but they like her. She's a dear, even if she +does look sort of--of cranky. She isn't, though, a bit. She makes +believe she's awfully stern, but she's just as soft as--as--" + +"As Laurie's head?" offered Ned, helpfully. "Say, you sell 'most +everything here, don't you? Are those cream-puffs?" + +Ned slipped a hand into his pocket and Laurie coughed furiously. Ned's +hand came forth empty. He turned away from temptation. "They look mighty +good," he said. "If we'd seen those before we'd had all that +ginger-ale--" + +Polly spoke detachedly. "You can have credit if you like," she said, +placing the empty bottles aside. "The doctor lets the boys run bills +here up to a dollar. They can't go over a dollar, though." + +"Personally," observed Laurie, jingling some coins in a trousers pocket, +"I prefer to pay cash. Still, there are times--" + +"Yes, a fellow gets short now and then," said Ned, turning for another +look at the pastry counter. "Maybe, just for--for convenience, it would +be a good plan to have an account here, Laurie. Sometimes a fellow +forgets to put any money in his pocket, you know. Does your mother make +these?" + +"Yes, the cream-cakes, and some of the others. The rest Miss Comfort +makes." + +"That's another funny name," said Laurie. "Who is Miss Comfort?" + +"She's--she's just Miss Comfort, I guess," replied Polly. "She lives on +the next corner, in the house with the white shutters. She's quite old, +almost seventy, I suppose, and she makes the nicest cake in Orstead. +Everybody goes to her for cakes. That's the way she lives, I guess." + +"Maybe we'd ought to help her," suggested Ned, mentally choosing the +largest and fattest cakes on the tray. "I guess we'll take a couple. How +much are they?" + +"Six cents apiece," said Polly. "Do you want them in a bag?" + +"No, thanks." Ned handed one of the cakes to Laurie; "we'll eat them +now." Then, between mouthfuls; "Maybe you'd better charge this to us. If +we're going to open an account, we might as well do it now, don't you +think?" + +Polly retired behind a counter and produced a long and narrow book, from +which dangled a lead pencil at the end of a string. She put the tip of +the pencil between her lips and looked across. "You'd better tell me +your full names, I think." + +"Edward Anderson Turner and--" + +"I meant just your first names." + +"Oh! Edward and Laurence. You can charge us each with two bottles and +one cake." + +"I like that!" scoffed Laurie. "Thought you were treating to cakes?" + +"Huh! Don't you want to help Miss Comfort? I should think you'd like +to--to do a charitable act once in a while." + +"Don't see what difference it makes to her," grumbled Laurie, "whether +you pay for both or I pay for one. She gets her money just the same." + +Ned brushed a crumb from his jacket. "You don't get the idea," he +replied gently. "Of course, I might pay for both, but you wouldn't feel +right about it, Laurie." + +"Wouldn't I? Where do you get that stuff? You try it and see." Laurie +spoke grimly, but not hopefully. Across the counter, Polly was giggling +over the account-book. + +"You're the funniest boys I ever did see," she explained, in answer to +their inquiring looks. "You--you say such funny things!" + +Before she could elucidate, footsteps sounded in the room behind the +store and a tiny white-haired woman appeared. In spite of her hair, she +couldn't have been very old, for her face was plump and unwrinkled and +her cheeks quite rosy. Seeing the customers, she bowed prettily and said +"Good afternoon" in a very sweet voice. + +"Good afternoon," returned the twins. + +"Mama, these are the Turner boys," said Polly. "One of them is Ned and +the other is Laurie, but I don't know which, because they look just +exactly alike. They--they're twins!" + +"I want to know!" said Mrs. Deane. "Isn't that nice? I'm very pleased to +meet you, young gentlemen. I hope Polly has served you with what you +wanted. My stock is kind of low just now. You see, we don't have many +customers in summer, and it's very hard to get things, nowadays, even if +you do pay three times what they're worth. Polly, those ice-cream cones +never did come, did they?" + +"Gee, do you have ice-cream?" asked Ned; eagerly. + +"Never you mind!" said Laurie, grabbing his arm. "You come on out of +here before you die on my hands. I'm sorry to tell you, ma'am, that he +doesn't know when to stop eating. I have to go around everywhere with +him and look after him. If I didn't, he'd be dead in no time." + +"I want to know!" exclaimed the Widow Deane interestedly. "Why, it's +very fortunate for him he has you, isn't it?" + +"Yes'm," answered Laurie, but he spoke doubtfully, for the little +white-haired lady seemed to hide a laugh behind her words. Ned was +grinning. Laurie propelled him to the door. Then, without relinquishing +his grasp, he doffed his cap. + +"Good afternoon," he said, "We'll come again," + +"We know not how," added Ned, "we know not when." + +"Bless my soul!" murmured the Widow, as the screen door swung behind +them. + +Back at school, the twins found a different scene from what they had +left. The grounds were populous with boys, and open windows in the two +dormitory buildings showed many others. The entrances were piled with +trunks and more were arriving. A rattling taxi turned in at the gate, +with much blowing of a frenzied but bronchial horn, and added five merry +youths to the population. Ned and Laurie made their way to East Hall, +conscious, as they approached, of many eyes focussed on them from +wide-flung windows. Remarks reached them, too. + +"See who's with us!" came from a second-floor casement above the +entrance; "the two Dromios!" + +"Tweedledum and Tweedledee!" + +"The Siamese Twins, I'll bet a cooky!" + +"Hi, East Hall! Heads out!" + +The two were glad when they reached the shelter of the doorway. "Some +one's going to get his head punched before long," growled Ned, as they +started upstairs. + +"What do we care? We don't own 'em. Let them have their fun, Neddie." + +"I'll let some of them have a wallop," was the answer. "You'd think we +were the first pair of twins they'd ever seen!" + +"Well, maybe we are. How do you know? Suppose those trunks have come?" + +They had, and for the next hour the twins were busy unpacking and +getting settled. From beyond their door came sounds of much turmoil; the +noise of arriving baggage, the banging of doors, shouts, whistling, +singing; but they were otherwise undisturbed until, just when Laurie had +slammed down the lid of his empty trunk, there came a knock at their +portal, followed, before either one could open his mouth in response, by +the appearance in the doorway of a bulky apparition in a gorgeous +crimson bath-robe. + +"Hello, fellows!" greeted the apparition. "Salutations and everything!" + +[Illustration: "Hello, fellows! Salutations and everything!"] + + + + +CHAPTER IV--KEWPIE STARTS SOMETHING + + +The twins stared silently and suspiciously for an instant. Then Ned made +cautious response. + +"Hello," he said, with what must have seemed to the visitor a lamentable +lack of cordiality. + +The latter pushed the door shut behind him by the kick of one stockinged +foot, and grinned jovially. "My name's Proudtree," he announced. + +"You can't blame us," replied Laurie, coldly. + +Proudtree laughed amiably. "It is a rotten name, isn't it? I live across +the corridor, you know. Thought I'd drop in and get acquainted, seeing +you're new fellows; extend the hand of friendship and all that. You +understand. By Jove, Pringle was right, too!" + +"That's fine," said Ned, with more than a trace of sarcasm. "What +about?" + +"Why," answered Proudtree, easing his generous bulk into a chair, "he +said you fellows were twins." + +"Not only were," said Laurie, gently, "but are. Don't mind, do you?" + +"Oh, come off your horse," begged the visitor. "Don't be so cocky. Who's +said anything? I just wanted to have a look. Never saw any twins +before--grown-up twins, I mean. You understand." + +"Thought you said you came to extend the hand of friendship," retorted +Ned, sarcastically. "Well, have a good look, partner. There's no +charge!" + +Proudtree grinned and accepted the invitation. Ned fumed silently under +the inspection, but Laurie's sense of humor came to his aid. Proudtree +appeared to be getting a lot of entertainment from his silent comparison +of his hosts, and presently, when Ned's exasperation had just about +reached the explosive point, he chuckled. + +"I've got it," he said. + +"Got what?" Laurie asked. + +"The--the clue! I know how to tell you apart! His eyes are different +from yours; more blue. Yours are sort of gray. But, geewhillikins, it +must be a heap of fun! Being twins, I mean. And fooling people. You +understand." + +"Well, if you're quite through," snapped Ned, "maybe you'll call it a +day. We've got things to do." + +"Meaning you'd like me to beat it?" asked the visitor, good-temperedly. + +"Just that!" + +"Oh, come, Ned," Laurie protested, soothingly, "he's all right. I dare +say we are sort of freakish and--" + +"Sure," agreed Proudtree, eagerly, "that's what I meant. But say, I +didn't mean to hurt any one's feelings. Geewhillikins, if I got waxy +every time the fellows josh me about being fat--" Words failed him and +he sighed deeply. + +Laurie laughed. "We might start a side-show, the three of us, and make a +bit of money. 'Only ten cents! One dime! This way to the Siamese Twins +and the Fat Boy! Walk up! Walk up!'" + +Proudtree smiled wanly. "I only weigh a hundred and seventy-eight and +three quarters, too," he said dolorously. "If I was a couple of inches +taller it wouldn't be so bad." + +"I don't think it's bad as it is," said Laurie, kindly. "You don't look +really _fat_; you just look sort of--of--" + +"Amplitudinous," supplied Ned, with evident satisfaction. + +Proudtree viewed him doubtfully. Then he smiled. "Well, I've got to get +rid of nearly fifteen pounds in the next two weeks," he said, with a +shake of his head, "and that's going to take some doing." + +"What for?" Laurie asked. "Why destroy your symmetry?" + +"Football. I'm trying for center. I nearly made it last year, but +Wiggins beat me out. He's gone now, though, and Mulford as good as said +last spring that I could make it this fall if I could get down to a +hundred and sixty-five." + +"Who's Mulford?" inquired Ned. "A fortune-teller?" + +Proudtree ignored the sarcasm. "Mulford's our coach. He's all right, +too. The trouble with me is, I'm awfully fond of sweet things, and +I--I've been eating a lot of 'em lately. But I guess I can drop fourteen +pounds if I cut out pies and candy and things. Don't you think so?" +Proudtree appealed to Laurie almost pathetically. + +"Don't let any one tell you anything different," replied Laurie, +reassuringly. Ned, evidently recovered from his peevishness, asked: + +"What sort of football do they play here?" + +"Corking!" answered Proudtree. + +"I mean, Rugby or the other?" + +"Rugby!" exclaimed Proudtree, scornfully. "I guess not! We play regular +football. Nobody plays Rugby around these parts. Are you fellows going +out?" + +"Not just yet," replied Ned. + +"He means are we going to try for the football team," explained Laurie. +"Yes, we are, Proudtree; at least, one of us is." + +"You?" + +"We haven't decided yet. You see, we've never played your kind of +football. Back home, at high school, we played American Rugby, and it's +quite different. But we decided that one of us had better go in for +football and the other for baseball, if only to do our duty by the +school." + +Proudtree looked puzzled. "How are you going to decide?" he asked. + +"Oh, we'll toss up or draw lots or something, I suppose. Maybe, though, +Ned had better play football, because I know more baseball than he does. +Still, I'm not particular." + +"That's the limit!" chuckled the visitor. "Say, what are your names? I +didn't see any cards on the door." + +"Turner. His is Laurie and mine's Ned," answered the latter. "Do we put +our names on the door?" + +"It's the best way," answered Proudtree. "Well, I've got to be moving. I +started to take a shower and got side-tracked. You chaps come on over +and see me and I'll get some of the other fellows in. You want to meet +the right sort, you know. What's your class?" + +"Lower middle, I reckon," said Ned. "That's what we expect." + +"Too bad you can't make upper. That's mine. We've got a corking bunch of +fellows this year. Well, see you later. Try for Mr. Barrett's table when +you go down. That's the best. Maybe they'll put you there if you bluff +it out. You understand. So long, fellows." + +Proudtree withdrew with considerable dignity in view of his bulk, waving +a benedictory hand ere the door closed behind him. Ned shook his head. +"Sort of a fresh hombre," he said. + +"Oh, he only meant to be friendly, I reckon," said Laurie. "You +understand." + +Ned laughed. "I'll bet they've got a wonderful football team here if he +plays on it! By the way, maybe we'd better settle which of us is to be +the football star. I suppose they begin to practise pretty soon. I'll be +the goat, if you like; though you had better luck with that book you +bought in Chicago. I couldn't make head or tail of it. I never saw so +many rules for playing one game in my life!" + +"It _was_ sort of difficult," agreed Laurie. "I dare say, though, that +you pick up the rules quick enough when you start to play. If you don't +really mind, I think you'd better go in for football, and I'll do the +baseball stunt. I've played it more than you have, you know, even if I'm +no wonder." + +"All right!" Ned sighed. "We'll get a bottle of arnica to-morrow. +Nothing like being prepared. How about going to see Mr. What's-his-name +before supper about courses?" + +"Might as well, and have it over with. I'd like to know whether we're +going to make the lower middle." + +"Don't see what else we can make. They can't stick us in the junior +class. Where's my coat? For the love of lemons, Laurie, can't you find +anything else to sit on? Gosh, look at the wrinkles!" + +"Those aren't wrinkles; they're just creases. Come on!" + +Half an hour later they closed the door of Mr. Cornish's study on the +floor below, in a chastened mood. Each carried a little buff card +whereon the instructor had tabulated an amazing number and variety of +study periods. Back in Number 16, Ned cast himself into a chair, thrust +his legs forth, and gazed disconsolately at the card. + +"I don't see where a fellow finds time for anything but work here," he +complained. "Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one hours a week! What do you +know about that?" + +"Well, don't be so proud of it. I've got the same, haven't I? I wonder +how many hours he thinks there are in a day?" + +"I tell you what I think," said Ned, after a moment's thought. "I think +he got it into his head that we're very ambitious and want to graduate +next spring!" + +"Maybe that's it," agreed Laurie, gravely. "Shall we go back and tell +him he's wrong?" + +"N-no, let's not. He seemed a well-meaning old codger, and I wouldn't +want to hurt his feelings--if he has any. Let's go down and see what +they've got for supper." + +Ned's blandishments failed with the waitress, and they were established +at a table presided over by a tall and very thin gentleman, whose name, +as they learned presently, was Mr. Brock. There were four tables in the +room, each accommodating ten boys and a member of the faculty. +Diagonally across the dining-hall, the twins descried the ample Mr. +Proudtree. Another table was in charge of a pleasant-faced woman who +proved to be the school matron, Mrs. Wyman. Mr. Cornish, the hall +master, and Mr. Barrett sat at the heads of the remaining boards. + +The room was very attractive, with a fine big stone fireplace at the +farther end, and broad windows on two sides. The food proved plain, but +it was served in generous quantities; and notwithstanding that the twins +were a bit self-conscious, they managed a very satisfactory meal. + +Their fellow-students seemed to be a very decent lot. Their ages +appeared to average about sixteen, and they had the clean, healthy look +of boys who spent much of their time outdoors. At the table at which the +twins sat, four of the boys were evidently seniors, and one was as +evidently a junior. The latter looked hardly more than thirteen, though +he was in reality a year older than that, and had the features and +expression of a cherub. The twins concluded that he was a new boy and +felt a little sorry for him. He looked much too young and innocent to +face the world alone. + +No one made any special effort to engage either Ned or Laurie in +conversation, perhaps because the returning youths had so much to talk +about among themselves. Mr. Brock ate his supper in silence, save when +one of the older boys addressed him, and had a far-away and abstracted +air. Laurie saw him sweeten his tea three times, and then frown in +annoyance when he finally tasted it. + +The boy who had guessed their awful secret at luncheon sat at the next +table, and more than once Ned caught him looking across with a +half-bewildered, half-frightened expression that somehow managed to +convey the intelligence that, in spite of temptation, he had kept the +faith. Ned finally rewarded him with a significant wink, and the youth +retired in confusion behind the milk-pitcher. + +When the meal was over the twins went outside and, following the example +set by others, made themselves comfortable on the grass beyond the walk. +Near by, two older boys were conversing earnestly, and Ned and Laurie, +having exhausted their own subjects of conversation, found themselves +listening. + +"We've got to do it," the larger of the two was saying. "Dave's going to +call a meeting of the school for Friday evening, and Mr. Wells is going +to talk to them. I'll talk too. Maybe you'd better, Frank. You can tell +them a funny story and get them feeling generous." + +"Nothing doing, Joe. Leave me out of it. I never could talk from a +platform. Anyway, it's the fellows' duty to provide money. If they +don't, they won't have a team. They understand that--or they will when +you tell them. There's another thing, though, Joe, that we've got to +have besides money, and that's material. We've _got_ to get more fellows +out." + +"I know. I'll tell them that, too. I'm going to put a notice up in +School Hall in the morning. Mr. Cummins says there are eight new fellows +entering the middle classes this year. Maybe some of them are +football-players." + +"Bound to be. Did you see the twins?" + +"No, but Billy Emerson was telling me about them. What do they look +like?" + +"Not bad. Rather light-weight, though, and sort of slow. They're from +Arizona or somewhere out that way, I think. You can't tell them apart, +Joe." + +"Think they're football stuff?" + +"Search me. Might be. They're light, though. Here comes Kewpie. Gosh, +he's fatter than ever! Hi, Kewpie! Come over here!" + +It was Proudtree who answered the hail, descended the steps, and +approached. "Hello, Joe! Hello, Frank! Well, here we are again, eh? +Great to be back, isn't it? Have a good summer, Joe?" + +"Fine! You?" + +"Corking! I was on Dad's yacht all through August. Saw the races and +everything. Bully eats, too. You understand." + +"Yes," Joe Stevenson replied, "and I understand why you're about twenty +pounds overweight, Kewpie! You ought to be kicked around the yard, you +fat loafer. Thought you wanted to play center this fall." + +"I'm going to! Listen, Joe, I'm only fourteen pounds over and I'll drop +that in no time. Honest, I will. You see! Besides, it isn't all fat, +either. A lot of it's good, hard muscle." + +"Yes, it is! I can see you getting muscle lying around on your father's +yacht! I'm off you, Kewpie. You haven't acted square. You knew mighty +well that you were supposed to keep yourself fit this summer, and now +look at you! You're a big fat lump!" + +"Aw, say, Joe! Listen, will you?" Proudtree's gaze wandered in search of +inspiration and fell on the twins. His face lighted. "Hello, you chaps!" +he said. Then he leaned over and spoke to Joe. "Say, have you met the +Turner brothers, Joe? One of 'em's a swell player. Played out in North +Dakota or somewhere." + +"Which one?" asked Joe, surreptitiously eying the twins. "Why, the--I +forget: they look so much alike, you know. I think it's the one this +way. Or maybe it's the other. Anyway, I'll fetch them over, eh?" + +"All right, Kewpie." + +Kewpie started away, paused, and spoke again. "They're--they're awfully +modest chaps, Joe. You'd think from hearing them talk that they didn't +know much about the game, but don't you be fooled. That's just their +way. You understand." + +"Oh, sure, Kewpie!" And when the latter had gone on his errand Joe +smiled and, lowering his voice, said to Frank Brattle: "Kewpie's trying +to put something over. I wonder what." + +"Proudtree tells me one of you fellows plays football," said Joe, a +minute later, when introductions had been performed and Ned and Laurie +had seated themselves. "We need good players this fall. Of course, I +hope you'll both come out." + +"Ned's the football chap," said Laurie. "Baseball's my line." + +"I don't know--" began Ned, but Laurie pinched him warningly, and he +gulped and, to Kewpie's evident relief, made a fresh start. "I'm not +much of a player," he said modestly, "but I'm willing to have a try at +it." + +Kewpie darted an "I-told-you-so" glance at Joe and Frank. + +"Where do you come from, Turner?" Joe asked politely. + +"Santa Lucia, California. I was in the high school there two years. +Everything's quite--quite different here." Ned spoke hurriedly, as +though anxious to switch the conversation from football, and Laurie +smiled in wicked enjoyment. "The climate's different, you know," Ned +went on desperately, "and the country and--and everything." + +"I suppose so," said Frank Brattle. "What's your position, Turner?" + +"Position?" + +"Yes; I mean, where did you play? Behind the line, I suppose, or maybe +end." + +"Oh, yes, yes, behind the line. You see, I--I--" + +"There aren't many fellows can play half-back the way Ned can," said +Laurie, gravely. "He won't tell you so, but if you ever meet any one who +saw him play against Weedon School last year--" + +"Shut up!" begged Ned, almost tearfully. + +Kewpie was grinning delightedly. Joe Stevenson viewed Ned with absolute +affection. "Half-back, eh? Well, we can use another good half, Turner, +and I hope you're the fellow. I don't know whether Kewpie told you that +I'm captain this year, but I am, and I'm going to try mighty hard to +captain a winning team. You look a bit light, but I dare say you're +fast, and, for my part, I like them that way. Besides, we've got Mason +and Boessel if we want the heavy sort. Practice starts to-morrow at +four, by the way. How about your brother? Glad to have him come out, +too. Even if he hasn't played, he might learn the trick. And there's +next year to think of, you know." + +"I think not, thanks," answered Laurie. "One football star is enough in +the family." + +"Well, if you change your mind, come on and have a try. Glad to have met +you. See you to-morrow--er--Turner. I want to find Dave, Frank. Coming +along?" + +The two older boys made off toward West Hall, and as soon as they were +out of hearing Ned turned indignantly on Laurie. + +"You're a nice one!" he hissed. "Look at the hole you've got me in! +'Half-back'! 'Played against Weedon School'! What did you want to talk +that way for? Why, those fellows think I know football!" + +"Cheer up," answered his brother, grinning. "All you've got to do is +bluff it through. Besides, Proudtree asked us not to let on we didn't +know a football from a doughnut, and I had to say something! You acted +as if you were tongue-tied!" + +"Yes; that's so--you started it!" Ned turned belligerently around. "Said +it would be a favor to you--" He stopped, discovering that Proudtree had +silently disappeared and that he was wasting his protests on the empty +air. "Huh!" he resumed after a moment of surprise, "it's a good thing he +did beat it! Look here, Laurie, I'm in a beast of a mess. Yow know I +can't face that captain chap to-morrow. Suppose he handed me a football +and told me to kick it!" + +"He won't. I've watched football practice back home. You'll stand around +in a circle--" + +"How the dickens can I stand in a circle?" objected Ned. + +"And pass a football for a while. Then you'll try starting, and maybe +fall on the ball a few times, until you're nice and lame, and after that +you'll run around the track half a dozen times--" + +"Oh, shut up! You make me sick! I won't do it. I'm through. I'd look +fine, wouldn't I? I guess not, partner!" + +"You've got to, Ned," replied Laurie calmly. "You can't back down now. +The honor of the Turners is at stake! Come on up and I'll read that +rules book to you. Maybe some of it'll seep in!" + +After a moment of indecision Ned arose and followed silently. + + + + +CHAPTER V--IN THE PERFORMANCE OF DUTY + + +School began in earnest the next morning. Ned and Laurie were awakened +from a deep slumber by the imperative clanging of a gong. There were +hurried trips to the bath-room, and finally a descent to the +recreation-room and morning prayers. Breakfast followed in the pleasant, +sunlit dining-hall, and at half-past eight the twins went to their first +class. There wasn't much real work performed that morning, however. +Books were bought and, being again in possession of funds, Ned purchased +lavishly of stationery and supplies. He had a veritable passion for +patent binders, scratch-pads, blank-books, and pencils, and Laurie +viewed the result of a half-hour's mad career with unconcealed concern. + +"You're all wrong, Ned," he said earnestly. "We aren't opening a +stationery emporium. Besides, we can't begin to compete with the office. +They buy at wholesale, and--" + +"Never mind the comedy. You'll be helping yourself to these things soon +enough, and then you won't be so funny." + +"That's the only way they'll ever get used up! Why, you've got enough +truck there to last three years!" + +There was one interesting annual observance that morning that the twins +witnessed inadvertently. At a little after eight the fellows began to +assemble in front of School Hall. Ned and Laurie, joining the throng, +supposed that it was merely awaiting the half-hour, until presently +there appeared at the gate a solitary youth of some fourteen years, who +came up the circling drive about as joyfully as a French Royalist +approaching the guillotine. Deep silence prevailed until the embarrassed +and unhappy youth had conquered half of the interminable distance. Then +a loud "_Hep!_" was heard, and the throng broke into a measured refrain: + +"_Hep!--Hep!--Hep!--Hep!_" + +This was in time to the boy's dogged steps. A look of consternation came +into his face and he faltered. Then, however, he set his jaw, looked +straight ahead, and came on determinedly. + +"_Hep!--Hep!_" + +Up the steps he passed, a disk of color in each cheek, looking neither +to right nor left, and passed from sight. As he did so, the chorus +changed to a good-humored laugh of approval. Ned made inquiry of a youth +beside him. + +"Day boy," was the explanation. "There are ten of them, you know: +fellows who live in town. We always give them a welcome. That chap had +spunk, but you wait and see some of them!" + +Two more followed together, and, each upheld in that moment of trial by +the presence of the other, passed through the ordeal with flying colors. +But the twins noted that the laughing applause was lacking. After that, +the remaining seven arrived almost on each other's heels and the air was +filled with "_Heps!_" Some looked only surprised, others angry; but most +of then grinned in a sickly, embarrassed way and went by with hanging +heads. + +"Sort of tough," was Ned's verdict, and Laurie agreed as they followed +the last victim inside. + +"It looks as if day students weren't popular," he added. + +Later, though, he found that he was wrong. The boys who lived in the +village were accepted without reservation, but, naturally enough, seldom +attained to a full degree of intimacy with those who lived in the +dormitories. + +By afternoon the twins had become well shaken down into the new life, +had made several superficial acquaintances, and had begun to feel at +home. Of Kewpie Proudtree they had caught but fleeting glimpses, for +that youth displayed a tendency to keep at a distance. As the hour of +four o'clock approached, Ned became more and more worried, and his +normally sunny countenance took on an expression of deep gloom. Laurie +kept close at his side, fearing that courage would fail and Ned would +bring disgrace to the tribe of Turner. But Laurie ought to have known +better, for Ned was never what his fellows would have called a +"quitter." Ned meant to see it through. His mind had retained very +little of the football lore that his brother had poured into it the +night before, but he had, at least, a somewhat clearer idea of the +general principles of the game. He knew, for instance, that a team +comprised eleven players instead of the twelve he had supposed, and that +certain restrictions governed the methods by which you might wrest the +ball from an opponent. Thus, you could not legally snatch it out of his +arms, nor trip him up in the hope that he would drop it. Ned thought the +restrictions rather silly, but accepted them. + +The athletic field, known in school parlance as the play-field, was even +larger than it had looked from their windows. It held two gridirons and +three baseball diamonds, as well as a quarter-mile track and ten +tennis-courts. There was also a picturesque and well-appointed +field-house and a fairly large grand stand. To Ned's relief, most of the +ninety students were in attendance, though only about forty of the +number were in playing togs. Ned's idea was that among so many he might +escape close observation. + +He had, of course, handled a football more or less, and he was possessed +of his full share of common sense. Besides, he had perhaps rather more +than his share of assurance. To his own surprise, if not to Laurie's, he +got through the hour and a half of practice very creditably. Seasoned +candidates and novices were on the same plane to-day. There was, first +of all, a talk by the coach. Mr. Mulford was a short, broad, +good-humored man of about thirty, with a round and florid countenance, +which possibly accounted for the nickname of "Pinky" that the school had +affectionately awarded him. His real name was Stephen, and he had played +guard, and played it well, for several years with Trinity College. This +was his fourth season as football coach at Hillman's and his third as +baseball coach. So far he had been fairly successful in both sports. + +His talk was brief and earnest, although he smiled through it all. He +wanted lots of material, but he didn't want any fellow to report for +practice who didn't mean to do his level best and stick it out. Those +who were afraid of either hard work or hard knocks had better save their +time and his. Those who did report would get a fair trial and no favor. +He meant to see the best team this fall that Hillman's School had ever +turned out, one that would start with a rush and finish with a bang, +like a rocket! + +"And," he went on, "I want this team made up the way a rocket is. A +rocket is filled with stars, fellows, but you don't realize it until the +final burst. So we're going to put the soft pedal on individual +brilliancy this year. It almost had us licked last fall, as you'll +remember. This year we're going to try hard for a well-rounded team of +hard workers, fellows who will interlock and gear together. It's the +machine that wins, the machine of eleven parts that work all together in +oil. We're going to find the eleven parts first, and after that we're +going to do the oiling. All right now! Ten men to a squad. Get balls and +pass in circles. Learn to hold the ball when you catch it. Glue right to +it. And when you pass, put it where you want it to go. Don't think that +the work is silly and unnecessary, because it isn't. A fellow who can't +hold a ball when it comes to him is of no use on this team. So keep your +minds right on the job and your eyes right on the ball. All right, +Captain Stevenson." + +At least, Ned could, to quote Laurie, "stand in a circle" and pass a +football, and he did, and did it better than several others in his +squad. In the same way, he could go after a trickling pigskin and catch +it up without falling over himself, though it is possible that his +"form" was less graceful than that of one or two of his fellows. When, +later, they were formed in a line and started off by the snapping of the +ball in the hands of a world-wearied youth in a faded blue sweater +bearing a white H on its breast, Ned didn't show up so well, for he was +almost invariably one of the last to plunge forward. The blue-sweatered +youth called his attention to the fact finally in a few well-chosen +words. + +"You guy in the brown bloomers!" he bellowed. (Of course they weren't +bloomers, but a pair of somewhat expansive golf breeches that Ned, +lacking proper attire, had donned, not without misgivings, on Laurie's +advice.) "Are you asleep? Put some life into it! Watch this ball, and +when you see it roll, jump! You don't look like a cripple, but you +surely act like one!" + +Toward the end a half-dozen last-year fellows took to punting, but, to +Ned's relief, no one suggested that he take a hand at it, and at +half-past five or thereabouts his trials came to an end. He went out of +his way, dodging behind a group on the side-line, to escape Joe +Stevenson, but ran plump into Frank Brattle instead. + +"Hello, Turner," Frank greeted. "How did it go?" + +"All right," replied Ned, with elaborate carelessness. "Fine." + +"Rather a nuisance having to go through the kindergarten stunts, isn't +it?" continued the other, sympathetically. "Mulford's a great hand at +what he calls the fundamentals, though. I dare say he's right, too. It's +funny how easy it is to get out of the hang of things during the summer. +I'm as stiff as a broom!" + +"So am I," answered Ned, earnestly and truthfully. Frank smiled, nodded, +and wandered on, and Ned, sighting Laurie hunched up in the grand stand, +joined him. "It's a bully game, football," he sighed, as he lowered +himself cautiously to a seat and listened to hear his muscles creak. +"Full of beneficial effects and all that." Laurie grinned in silence. +Ned felt experimentally of his back, frowned, rocked himself backward +and forward twice, and looked relieved. "I guess there's nothing +actually broken," he murmured, "I dare say it'll be all right soon." + +"They say the first two months are the hardest," responded Laurie, +comfortingly. "After that there's no sensation." + +Ned nodded. "I believe it," he said feelingly. He fixed his gaze on the +farther goal-post and after a minute of silence remarked: + +"I'd like to catch the man who invented football!" + +He turned a challenging look on his brother. Laurie blinked and for +several seconds his lips moved noiselessly and there was a haunted look +in his gray eyes. Then, triumphantly, he completed the couplet: "It may +suit some, but it doesn't suit all!" + +"Rotten!" said Ned. + +"I'd like to see you do any better," answered Laurie, aggrievedly. +"There isn't any proper rhyme for 'football,' anyway." + +"Nor any reason for it, either. Of all--" + +"Hi, you fellow!" interrupted a scandalized voice. "What are you doing +up there? Have you done your two laps?" + +The speaker was a lanky, red-haired man who bristled with authority and +outrage. + +"Two laps?" stammered Ned. "No, sir." + +"Get at it, then. And beat it in when you have. Want to catch cold, do +you? Sitting around without a blanket or anything like that!" The +trainer shot a final disgusted look at the offender and went on. + +"Gee," murmured Ned, "I thought I was done! Two laps, he said! I'll +never be able to, Laurie!" + +"Oh, yes, you will," was the cheerful response. "And while you're doing +them you can think up a better rhyme for 'football' than I did!" + +Ned looked back reproachfully as he limped to the ground and, having +gained the running-track, set off at a stiff-kneed jog. Laurie's +expression relented as he watched. + +"Sort of tough on the kid," he muttered sympathetically. Then his face +hardened again and he shook his head. "I've got to be stern with him, +though!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI--NED IS FIRM + + +Kewpie Proudtree obeyed the shouted invitation to enter Number 16 and +appeared with a countenance as innocent as that of an infant. "Hello, +fellows," he said cordially, dropping into a chair with indications of +exhaustion. "How do you like it as far as you've gone?" + +Ned shifted in his seat at the study-table, choking back a groan, and +fixed Kewpie with a baleful look. "Listen, Proudtree," he said sternly. +"I've got a bone to pick with you!" + +"With me?" Kewpie stared in amazement. "What have I done?" + +"You've got me into a fix, that's what you've done! Didn't you ask +me--us--last night not to let on to Stevenson that we--I--couldn't play +football? Didn't you say it would be a favor to you? Didn't you say it +would be all right and--and everything?" + +"Sure! What of it?" + +"Why, you crazy galoot, you must have told him that I knew all about the +game! And you knew mighty well I didn't! Stevenson thinks I'm a wonder, +and I don't know a touch-down from a--a forward kick!" + +"Pass, not kick," corrected Kewpie, patiently. "Look here, Turner-- Say, +are you Ned or Laurie? Blessed if I can tell!" + +"Ned," replied that youth, with much dignity. + +"Guess I'll have to call you Ned, then. Can't call you both Turner. You +understand. It was like this, Ned. You see, I want to stand in with Joe +Stevenson. It--it's for the good of the school. If they don't play me at +center this fall, who are they going to play? Well, Joe thought I--well, +he seemed to think I hadn't acted just right about keeping my weight +down. He--he was sort of peeved with me. So I wanted to smooth him down +a bit. You understand. That's why I told him what I did." + +"Well, what _did_ you tell him?" + +"Why, I sort of--well, it wasn't what I _said_ exactly; it was what he +thought I meant!" + +"Proudtree, you're telling a whopper," said Ned, sternly. "And you told +one to Stevenson, too, or I miss my guess." + +"I only said that you were a swell football-player." + +"For the love of lemons! What do you call that but a whopper?" + +Kewpie looked both ashamed and distressed. He swallowed hard and glanced +furtively at Laurie as though hoping for aid. But Laurie looked as +unsympathetic as Ned. Kewpie sighed dolefully. "I--I suppose it was," he +acknowledged. "I didn't think about that. I'm sorry, Ned, honest! I +didn't mean to tell what wasn't so. I just wanted to get Joe's mind off +his troubles. You understand." + +"Well, you got me in a mess," grumbled Ned. "I got by all right to-day, +I suppose, but what's going to happen to-morrow?" + +Kewpie evidently didn't know, for he stared morosely at the floor for a +long minute. Finally, "I'll go to Joe and fess up if--if you say so," he +gulped. + +"I think you ought to," responded Ned. + +"Where's the sense in that?" demanded Laurie. "What good would it do? +Proudtree did fib, but he didn't mean to. I mean he didn't do it for +harm. If he goes and tells Stevenson that he fibbed, Stevenson will have +it in for him harder than ever; and he will have it in for you, too, +Ned. Maybe he will think it was a scheme that you and Proudtree hatched +together. That's a punk idea, I say. Best thing to do is prove that +Proudtree didn't fib." + +"How?" asked Ned. + +"Why, Proudtree--" + +"There's an awful lot of that 'Proudtree' stuff," complained the +visitor. "Would you mind calling me Kewpie?" + +"All right. Well, Kewpie told Captain Stevenson that you are a swell +player. Go ahead and be one." + +"Huh, sounds easy the way you say it," scoffed Ned; "but how can I, when +I don't know anything about the silly game? I wish to goodness you'd +taken up football instead of me!" + +"You got through to-day all right, didn't you?" asked Laurie. "Well, +keep it up. Keep your eyes open and learn. You can do it. You're no +fool, even if you haven't my intellect. Besides, you're the best little +fakir that ever came over the range." + +"You can't fake kicking a football," said Ned, scathingly. + +"Look here!" exclaimed Kewpie, his round face illumined by a great idea. +"Tell you what, Ned! I'll show you how to kick!" + +The silence that greeted the offer might have offended a more sensitive +youth, but Kewpie went on with enthusiasm. "Of course, I'm no wonder at +it. I'm a little too short in the leg and, right now, I--I'm a bit +heavy; but I used to kick and I know how it ought to be done. Say we +have a half-hour or so at it every morning for a while?" + +"Wouldn't Stevenson know what was up?" asked Ned, dubiously. + +"He needn't know. We'll go over to the lot behind the grammar school. +Even if he saw us, he'd think we were having some fun." + +"He must have a strange idea of fun," sighed Ned. "Still, if you want to +take the trouble--" + +"Glad to! Besides, I owe you something for--for getting you in wrong. +And I can put you wise to a lot of little things about handling a ball. +We could do some passing, for instance. Wonder who's got a ball we could +borrow. I'll find one somewhere. You understand. Now, what hour have you +got free in the morning?" + +A comparison of schedules showed that on two mornings a week the boys +could meet at ten, and on two other mornings at ten-thirty. The +remaining days were not accommodating, however. + +"Well, even four times a week will show results," said Kewpie, +cheerfully. "This is Thursday. We'll have the first lesson Saturday at +ten." + +"I hope they don't ask me to do any kicking before then," said Ned. + +"Not likely. You'll get about the same stuff to-morrow as you had +to-day. You'll get by, take my word for it. That's settled, then." +Kewpie referred to an ornate gold wrist-watch. "It's after eight. You're +going over to Johnny's, aren't you!" + +"Johnny's?" repeated Laurie. "Oh, Doctor Hillman's! I suppose so. What's +it like?" + +"Oh, it isn't bad. The eats are pretty fair. Anyway, he sort of likes +the fellows to go, and he's a good sort. You'll be introduced to the +faculty and their wives, if they have any, and meet a lot of fellows +whose names you'll forget the next minute. Take my advice and sort of +work in toward the dining-room. Last year, the harlequin ice-cream gave +out before I could get to the table." Kewpie sighed. "Tabby has bully +cake, too, and I'm off of cake. Isn't that rotten luck?" + +"Awful!" laughed Ned. "You going over now?" + +"Yes. Come on and I'll introduce you to some of the fellows you ought to +know. I'll wash my dirty paws and meet you in two minutes." + +The principal's reception proved rather enjoyable. The "eats" were +excellent and, under Kewpie's guidance, the twins reached the long table +in the dining-room well in advance of the crowd. As Laurie remarked +afterward, it was worth the amount of trouble involved just to watch +Kewpie's mouth water as he gazed soulfully at the chocolate layer-cake. +To his credit be it narrated that he manfully resisted it. Besides +consuming much delectable food, the twins were impressively introduced +by their guide to a number of their fellow-students, the introduction +being prefaced in each case by a sort of biographical note, as: "There's +Dan Whipple. The tall fellow with the trick collar, talking to Mrs. +Wells. Rows stroke on the crew. Senior class president. Honor man last +year. President of Attic, too. Good chap to know. Come on." In such +manner they met at least a half-dozen school notables, most of whom were +extremely affable to the new boys. Sometimes, to be sure, the twins had +a suspicion that Kewpie was pretending a closer intimacy with a notable +than in fact existed, but he always "got away with it." + +The only fly in the ointment of the evening's enjoyment occurred when +Kewpie mischievously introduced them to Mrs. Pennington, the wife of the +Greek and Latin instructor, and sneaked away. Mrs. Pennington was tall +and extremely thin, and viewed the world through a pair of +tortoise-shell spectacles. She had a high voice and what Ned termed a +"very Lake Superior" manner, and, since she confined her conversation to +the benefits to be derived from an earnest study of the Latin poets, +philosophers, and historians, the twins were not happy. Fortunately, +very little was demanded from them conversationally, Mrs. Pennington +being quite competent to do all the talking. But, unfortunately, she +gave them no chance to get away. Ned descried Kewpie grinning +heartlessly from the doorway and rewarded him with a terrific and +threatening scowl. Kewpie, however, waved blandly and faded into the +night. Release came to them at last and they scurried away, neglecting, +in their hurried departure, to say good night either to the doctor or +Miss Tabitha, a breach of etiquette which probably passed unnoted by the +hosts. Back in East Hall, the twins hammered loudly at Number 15, but +Kewpie was either absent or discreet. At any rate, there was no +response, and revenge had to be postponed. + +To Laurie's surprise, a notice on the bulletin-board in the corridor of +School Hall the following morning announced that autumn baseball +practice would begin that afternoon. He had supposed that his hour to +offer himself on the altar of school patriotism would not arrive until +the next spring; and later, when he strode down Walnut Street with Ned, +in search of football togs for the latter, he broached the subject +diplomatically. + +"Funny idea to have baseball practice this time of year, I think," he +remarked carelessly. "Not much good in it. A fellow would forget +anything he learned by next April." + +"Didn't know they did," replied Ned, uninterestedly. "Who told you +that?" + +"Oh, there was a notice on the board in School Hall. Don't believe many +fellows go out in the fall." + +"Thought baseball was a spring and summer game. Still, I dare say you +can play it just as well now. Seems to me I've heard of having spring +football practice, haven't you?" + +"I dare say. Crazy scheme, though, playing games out of season." + +"Ye-es." Ned went on thoughtfully a moment Then he shot a suspicious +glance at his brother. "You going out?" he demanded. + +"N-no, I don't think so," answered Laurie, lightly. "There's that +building we had the bet on the other day. We never did find out--" + +"Never you mind about that building," interrupted Ned, severely. "I'm on +to you, partner. You're trying to renege on baseball. Well, it doesn't +go! You're a baseball hero and you've got to get busy!" + +"Aw, Ned, have a heart! There's plenty of time--" + +"No, sir, by jiminy! You got me slaving for the dear old school, now you +do your bit!" + +"Yes, but it isn't fair to start the baseball season in September. You +know it isn't." + +"Cut out the alibis! You can get some baseball togs right now. Good +thing you spoke of it. What'll you need?" + +"All I need is kindness," wailed Laurie. "Ned, I don't want to be a +hero! I don't want to save the dear old school from defeat in the ninth +inning! I--I--" + +"You're going to do as you agreed to," answered Ned, grimly. "Remember +that the honor of the Turners is at stake!" + +Laurie sighed deeply. Then, "You speak of honor! Say no more. I yield," +he declaimed dramatically. + +"You bet you do," answered Ned, unhesitatingly. "You for the baseball +field!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII--HIGH SCHOOL ACCEPTS DEFEAT + + +A week passed, and the twins began to feel like old residents. They had +ceased being "the Turner twins" to acquaintances, although others still +referred to them so, and their novelty had so far worn off that they +could enter a classroom or walk side by side across the yard without +being conscious of the rapt, almost incredulous stares of the beholders. +To merely casual acquaintances they were known as Ned and Laurie; to a +few friends they had become Nid and Nod. Kewpie was responsible for +that. He had corrupted "Ned" into "Nid," after which it was impossible +for Laurie to be anything but "Nod." Laurie had demurred for a time, +demanding to be informed who Nod had been. Kewpie couldn't tell him, +being of the hazy belief that Nid and Nod were brothers in some fairy +story he had once read, but he earnestly assured Laurie that both had +been most upright and wholly estimable persons. Anyhow, Laurie's +objections wouldn't have accomplished much, for others had been prompt +to adopt the nicknames and all the protests in the world wouldn't have +caused them to drop them. These others weren't many in number, however: +Kewpie and Thurman Kendrick and Lee Murdock and George Watson about made +up the list of them at this time. + +Kendrick was Kewpie's room-mate, a smallish, black-haired, very earnest +youth of sixteen, which age was also Kewpie's. Thurman was familiarly +known as "Hop," although the twins never learned why. He was a candidate +for quarter-back on the eleven and took his task very seriously. Lee +Murdock was one of the baseball crowd, and Laurie had scraped +acquaintance with him on the diamond during a practice game. The word +"scraped" is used advisedly, for Laurie, in sliding to second base, had +spiked much of the skin from Lee's ankle. Of such incidents are +friendships formed! Lee was two years older than Laurie, a big, rather +raw-boned fellow with a mop of ash-colored hair and very bright blue +eyes. + +George Watson was sixteen, an upper middler, and, as Laurie frequently +assured him, no fit associate for a respectable fellow. To the latter +assertion George cheerfully agreed, adding that he always avoided such. +He came from Wyoming and had brought with him a breeziness of manner +that his acquaintances, rightly or wrongly, described as "wild and +woolly." Of the four, Kewpie and George were more often found in company +with the twins. + +There had been four lessons in kicking on an open lot behind the grammar +school, two short blocks away, and while Ned had not yet mastered the +gentle art of hurtling a football through the air, Kewpie was +enthusiastic about his pupil's progress. "Why, geewhillikins, Nid," he +broke forth after the fourth session, "you're a born kicker! Honest you +are! You've got a corking swing and a lot of drive. You--you've got real +_form_, that's what you've got. You understand. And you certainly do +learn! Of course, you haven't got it all from me, because you've been +punting in practice two or three times, but I take some of the credit." + +"You've got a right to," responded Ned. "You've taught me a lot more +than I've learned on the field. Gee, if it hadn't been for you I'd been +afraid even to try a punt over there! You ought to see the puzzled way +that Pope looks at me sometimes. He can't seem to make me out, because, +I suppose, Joe Stevenson told him I was a crackajack. Yesterday he said, +'You get good distance, Turner, and your direction isn't bad, but you +never punt twice the same way!'" + +"Well, you don't," laughed Kewpie. "But you'll get over that just as +soon as I can get it into your thick head that the right way's the best +and there's only one right!" + +"I know," said Ned, humbly. "I mean to do the way you say, but I sort of +forget." + +"That's because you try to think of too many things at once. Stop +thinking about your leg and just remember the ball and keep your eyes on +it until it's in the air. That's the secret, Nid. I heard Joe telling +Pinky the other day that you'd ought to shape up well for next year." + +"Next year!" exclaimed Ned, dubiously. "Gee! mean to tell me I'm going +through all this work for next year?" + +"Well, you might get a place this year, for all you know," replied +Kewpie, soothingly. "Just keep on coming, Nid. If you could only--well, +if you had just a bit more _speed_ now, got started quicker, you know, +Pinky would have you on the second squad in no time, I believe. You're +all right after you get started, but--you understand." + +"I do the best I know how," sighed Ned. "I suppose I am slow on the +get-away, though. Corson is always calling me down about it. Oh, well, +what do I care? I don't own it." + +"I'd like to see you make good, though," said Kewpie. "Besides, remember +the honor of the Turners!" + +Ned laughed. "Laurie will look after that. He's doing great things in +baseball, if you believe him, and it wouldn't be right for us to capture +all the athletic honors." + +"You make me weary!" grunted Kewpie. "Say, don't you California chaps +ever have any pep?" + +"California, old scout, is famous for its pep. We grow it for market out +there. Why, I've seen a hundred acres planted to it!" + +"You have, eh? Well, it's a big shame you didn't bring a sprig of it +East with you, you lazy lummox! Some day I'm going to drop a cockle-burr +down your back and see if you don't show some action!" + +Hillman's started her season on the following Saturday with Orstead High +School. As neither team had seen much practice, the contest didn't show +a very high grade of football. The teams played four ten-minute +quarters, consuming a good two hours of elapsed time in doing it, their +members spending many precious moments prone on the turf. The weather +was miserably warm for football and the players were still pretty soft. + +Kewpie derived great satisfaction from the subsequent discovery that he +had dropped three quarter pounds and was within a mere seven pounds of +his desired weight. Had he played the game through instead of yielding +the center position to Holmes at the beginning of the last half, he +might have reached his goal that afternoon. Ned and Laurie wounded him +deeply by declaring that there was no apparent improvement in his +appearance. + +Ned saw the game from the substitutes' bench, and Laurie from the stand. +High School turned out a full attendance and, since Hillman's was +outnumbered two to one, "O. H. S." colors and cheers predominated. +Laurie sat with Lee Murdock, who, as a baseball enthusiast, professed a +great scorn of football. (There was no practice on the diamond that +afternoon.) Lee amused himself by making ridiculous comments in a voice +audible for many yards around. + +"That's piffle!" he declared on one occasion, when the ground was strewn +with tired, panting players. "The umpire said, 'Third down,' but if they +aren't three quarters down, I'll treat the crowd! The trouble with those +fellows is that they didn't get enough sleep last night. Any one can see +that. Why, I can hear that big chap snoring 'way over here!" Again, +"That brother of yours is playing better than any of them," he asserted. + +"Ned? Why, he isn't in! He's on the bench down there." + +"Sure! That's what I mean. You don't see him grabbing the ball away from +Brattle and losing two or three yards at a time. No, sir; he just sits +right there, half asleep, and makes High School _work_ for the game. +Every time he doesn't take the ball, Nod, he saves us three or four +yards. He's a hero, that's what he is. If Mulford would get all the rest +of them back on the bench, we might win." + +"You're crazy," laughed Laurie. + +During the intermission, Laurie's wandering gaze fell on two girls a +dozen seats away. One, whom he had never seen before, displayed a +cherry-and-black pennant and belonged unmistakably to the high school +cohort. She was a rather jolly-looking girl, Laurie decided, with a good +deal of straw-colored hair and a pink-and-white skin. Her companion was +evidently divided as to allegiance, for she had a cherry-and-black +ribbon pinned on the front of her dress and wore a dark-blue silken +arm-band. For a moment Laurie wondered why she looked familiar to him. +Then he recognized her as Polly Deane. The two girls appeared to be +alone, although some boys in the row behind were talking to them. + +So far, the twins had not been back to the little shop on Pine Street, +but Laurie resolved now that he would drop around there very soon and +pay his bill before his money was gone. After paying the school bill for +the first half-year, he and Ned had shared slightly more than twenty +dollars, but since then there had been many expenses. They had each had +to purchase playing togs and stationery, and, finally, had donated two +dollars apiece to the football fund at the mass-meeting Friday night of +the week before. + +Viewed from a financial standpoint, that meeting hadn't been a great +success, and it was no secret that, unless more money was forthcoming, +the team would be obliged to cancel at least one of its away-from-home +games. But it had resulted in bringing out a big field of candidates, +and there had been a lot of enthusiasm. The next day, viewing his +reduced exchequer, Laurie had ruefully observed that he guessed a dollar +would have been enough to give, but Ned had called him a "piker" and a +"tight-wad" and other scornful things. Yesterday Ned had borrowed half a +dollar, which was more than a fourth of Laurie's remaining cash; and the +first of October was still a week distant. Realizing the latter fact, +Laurie changed his mind about settling his account at the Widow Deane's. +But, he reflected, with another friendly glance in Polly's direction, it +wouldn't be right to withhold his trade from the store. And he wasn't +anywhere near the limit of indebtedness yet! + +Two listless periods followed the intermission, the only inspiring +incident coming when, near the end of the third quarter, Pope, Hillman's +full-back, foiled in his attempt to get a forward pass away, smashed +past the enemy and around his left end for a run that placed the pigskin +six yards short of the last white line. From there the home team managed +to push its way to a touch-down, the third and last score of the day. +The final figures were 10 to 7 in Hillman's favor, and neither side was +very proud of the outcome. + +Ned returned to Number 16 half an hour later in a most critical frame of +mind, and spent ten minutes explaining to Laurie just when and how the +school team had failed. At last Laurie interrupted him to ask, "Have you +told this to Mr. Mulford, Ned?" + +"Mr. Mulford? Why--oh, go to the dickens!" + +"Seems to me he ought to know," said Laurie, gravely. + +"That's all right. You can be sarcastic if you like, but I'm talking +horse-sense. You see a lot of things from the bench that you don't see +from the stand. Besides, you've got to know football to understand it. +Now you take--" + +"I beg your pardon! Did you say anything about understanding football?" + +"Well, I understand a lot more about it than you do," replied the other, +warmly. "I've been playing it a week, haven't I?" + +"Sure, but I'll bet you don't know how much a safety counts!" + +"I don't need to. That's up to the referee. But I know some football, +just the same. And I punted forty-seven yards yesterday, too!" + +"In how many punts?" inquired Laurie, innocently. + +Ned threw a book at him and the subject was closed. + +In his own line, baseball, Laurie was not setting the world on fire. He +was gaining a familiarity with the position of center fielder on the +scrub nine, and batting practice was at least not doing him any harm. +But he certainly had displayed no remarkable ability; and if Ned had +gained a notion to the contrary, it was merely because it pleased Laurie +to fool him with accounts of imaginary incidents in which he, Laurie, +had shone most brilliantly. As Ned knew even less about baseball than he +had known of football, almost any fairy-tale "went" with him, and Laurie +derived much amusement thereby; decidedly more, in fact, than he derived +from playing! + +On Monday morning Laurie dragged Ned over to the Widow Deane's for +ginger-ale, professing a painful thirst. The Widow greeted them +pleasantly, recalling their names, and provided them with the requested +beverage. Laurie's thirst seemed to have passed, for he had difficulty +in consuming his portion. When, presently, he asked politely about +Polly, it developed that that young lady was quite well enough to attend +high school as usual. Laurie said, "Oh!" and silently promised himself +that the next time he got thirsty it would be in the afternoon. Ned ate +two doughnuts and was hesitating over raspberry tarts when Laurie +dragged him away. "Can't you think of anything but eating?" demanded the +latter, disgustedly. Ned only blinked. + +"Ginger-ale always makes me hungry," he explained calmly. + +Two days later, the twins awoke to cloudy skies, and by mid-forenoon a +lazy drizzle was falling, which later turned to a downright tempest of +wind and rain. At four the baseball candidates scooted to the +field-house for cover, although, peering forth through a drenched +window, Laurie discerned the football-players still at work. Lee Murdock +said he guessed the equinoctial storm had come, and that if it had +there'd be no practice for a couple of days. Laurie tried to look +broken-hearted and failed dismally. Taking advantage of a lull in the +downpour, he and Lee, with many of the others, set forth for school. +They were still far short of the gymnasium, however, when the torrent +began again, and it was a wet, bedraggled, and breathless crowd that +presently pushed through the door. + +George Watson, who had been playing tennis before the rain started, was +philosophically regarding a pair of "unshrinkable" flannel trousers +which, so he declared, had already receded an inch at the bottoms. It +was George who suggested that, after changing to dry clothing, they go +over to the Widow's and have ice-cream at his expense. Not possessing a +rain-coat of his own, Laurie invaded Number 15 and borrowed Kewpie's. It +was many sizes too large, but it answered. The Widow's was full when he +and George and Lee got there, and the pastry counter looked as though it +had been visited by an invading army. There was still ice-cream, though, +and the three squeezed into a corner and became absorbedly silent for a +space. + +Polly was helping her mother, and Laurie exchanged greetings with her, +but she was far too busy for conversation. Lee treated to a second round +of ice-cream, and afterward Laurie bought a bag of old-fashioned +chocolates. He hoped Polly would wait on him, but it was Polly's mother +who did so and asked after his brother as she filled the paper sack. + +"I do hope you're looking after him and that he hasn't eaten those +raspberry tarts yet," she said pleasantly. + +"Yes'm," said Laurie. "I mean, he hasn't." He thought it surprising that +the Widow Deane was able to tell them apart. Even Kewpie and George +frequently made mistakes. + +It was still pouring when they went out again, and they hurried up the +street and around the corner into School Park, their progress somewhat +delayed by the fact that Laurie had placed the bag of candy in an +outside pocket of Kewpie's capacious rain-coat and that all three had +difficulty in finding it. Lee had just popped a big chocolate into his +mouth and George was fumbling into the moist bag when the clouds opened +suddenly and such a deluge fell as made them gasp. In distance they were +but a long block from school; but with the rain descending on them as +though poured from a million buckets, their thought was of immediate +shelter. + +"Wow!" yelped Lee. "Let's get out of this! Here's a house. Come on!" + +There was an opening in a high hedge, and a short brick walk from which +the drops were rebounding knee-high, and, seen dimly through the deluge, +a porch at the end of it. They reached it in what Laurie called three +leaps and a jump, and, under shelter of the roof, drew breath and looked +back into the gray welter. The park was invisible, and even the high +lilac hedge was only a blurred shape. Lee had to shout to make himself +heard above the rain. + +"Wonder who lives here," he said. "I don't remember this house." + +"Sure you do!" said George. "This is the Coventry house. We're on the +side porch." + +"Oh!" Lee gazed doubtfully into the rain. "Well, anyway, it'll do. Gee, +my trousers are soaked to the knees! How long do you suppose this will +keep up?" + +"You said for two days," answered Laurie, cheerfully, trying to dry his +neck with a moist handkerchief. + +"I mean this shower, you chump!" + +"Call this a shower? What's a cloud-burst like in this part of the +country, then?" + +"We don't have such things," answered George, who was peering through a +side-light into the dim interior. "Say, I thought this place was empty," +he continued. "I can see chairs and a table in there." + +"No; some one rented it this fall," said Lee. "I noticed the other day +that the front door was open and the grass had been cut. I wouldn't want +to live in the place, though." + +"Why?" inquired Laurie. + +But, before any answer came, the door was suddenly opened within a few +inches of George's nose and a voice said: + +"You fellows had better come inside until it's over." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII--IN THE MISER'S HOUSE + + +The invitation came from a boy of about sixteen, a slim, eminently +attractive chap, who smiled persuasively through the aperture. Laurie +knew that he had seen him somewhere, but it was not until they had +followed, somewhat protestingly, into a hallway and from there into a +large and shadowy drawing-room that he recognized him as one of the day +pupils. Lee, it seemed, knew him slightly and called him by name. + +"We oughtn't to come in here," Lee apologized. "We're soaking wet, +Starling." + +"It doesn't matter," answered their host. "Wait till I find a match and +we'll have a fire here." + +"Don't bother, please," George protested. "We're going right on in a +minute." + +"Might as well get dry a bit first. The fire's all laid." The boy held a +match at the grate and in a moment the wood was snapping merrily. "Pull +up some chairs, fellows. Here, try this. Some rain, isn't it?" + +"Rather," agreed Lee. "By the way, do you know Turner? And Watson?" The +three boys shook hands. "I didn't know you lived here," Lee continued. +"Saw the house had been taken, but didn't know who had it. Corking big +place, isn't it?" + +Starling laughed. "It's big all right, but it's not so corking. Let me +have that rain-coat, Turner. The rooms are so frightfully huge that you +get lost in them! I have the bedroom above this, and the first morning I +woke up in it I thought I was in the Sahara Desert! This was the only +place we could find, though, that was for rent, and we had to take it. +Dad came here on short notice and we didn't have much time to look +around. Pull up closer to the fire, Watson, and get your feet dry. I've +got some slippers upstairs if you want to take your shoes off." + +"No, thanks. I guess the wet didn't get through. I've seen you over at +school, haven't I?" + +"Yes, I'm a day boy; one of the 'Hep, heps!'" + +Lee grinned. "Sort of a mean trick, that, Starling, but they always do +it every year." + +"Wish I'd known about it beforehand. I'd have sneaked over a fence and +through a window. It was fierce! I was the last fellow to get in this +fall. Dad made application in August, and some fellow who had entered in +the spring changed his mind; otherwise I'd have had to go to the high +school." + +"That would have been an awful fate," said George, gravely. + +"Oh, I wouldn't have minded. I like Hillman's, though. Do any of you +chaps play tennis?" + +"I try to," answered George. + +"Wish you'd give me a game some day. Tennis is about the only thing I +know much about, and I saw some dandy courts over at the field." + +"Glad to," George assured him. "Any day you like, Starling. I'm not much +of a player, though, so don't expect a lot." + +"Guess you're good enough to handle me," laughed the other. "I like it +better than I can play it. How about to-morrow afternoon?" + +"Suits me," answered George. "Three-thirty?" + +"Fine! I'm going to get Dad to build a court in the yard here, if I can. +There's lots of room, but there's a tumble-down old grape-arbor right in +the middle." + +"Yes, there's surely room enough," agreed Lee. "We used to come over +here last fall and get pears--there's a dandy seckel tree back there. +I'd say there was room for two or three courts if some of the trees were +cut down." + +"What could he do with three of them?" asked Laurie. + +"I suppose we'd have to get the owner's permission to even take that +rickety old arbor down," Starling said. + +"I thought the owner was dead," Lee observed. + +George chuckled. "If he was dead he wouldn't be the owner, you simple! +Old Coventry died three or four years ago, but somebody owns the place, +of course. If what they tell of the old chap is true, it must have +broken his heart to know he couldn't take the place with him! Maybe he +took his money with him, though. Anyway, the story goes that he had +slathers of it, and they could only find a couple of thousands when he +died." + +"What was he, a miser?" asked Starling. + +"Yes, one of the sort you read about in the stories. Lived here all +alone for years and years with only a negro servant. They say you could +never see a light in the place at night, and he never went off the front +porch more than a couple of times a year. Then a carriage came for him +and he got in and went down to the boat. He didn't use the train because +it cost too much. Of course, when he died, folks expected to find that +he had left a mint of money; but all any one could discover was about +two thousand dollars in one of the banks here--that, and this property. +The heirs, whoever they were, pretty near tore the insides out of the +house, they say, looking for coin, but they didn't get any thing." + +"And at night the old codger's ghost walks around," added Lee; "and if +you follow him, he'll take you to the place the money's hidden." + +"Honest?" exclaimed Starling, joyfully. "Gosh, that's great! I always +wanted to live in a house with a ghost." + +"I'm sorry, then," said George, "for I just made that part up." + +"_You_ did?" Lee looked incredulous. "Where do you come in? I've heard +that ever since I came here." + +"No, sir; you may have heard the rest of the story, but not the part +about the ghost. I wrote the yarn up in my junior year for an English +comp., and tacked on the ghost feature as a sort of added climax. Got +good marks, too, and the Orstead paper published the thing. I'll show it +to you, if you like." + +Lee looked unconvinced still, and Starling disappointed. "Well, it's a +good story, anyway, and makes the place more interesting. Some day I'll +have a look myself for the hidden millions." + +"Guess the old chap never had that much," said George. "Thirty or forty +thousand is about what he was supposed to have salted away." + +"Scarcely worth bothering about," observed Laurie, with a yawn. + +"But look here, what became of the servant?" asked Starling. "Maybe he +got the dough and made off with it." + +"Lots of folks thought that," replied George; "but the theory didn't pan +out for a cent. The negro stuck around here for quite a while and then +ambled off somewhere. He claimed that old Coventry died owing him a +month's wages, and tried to get some one to pay him, but I guess he +never got any of it, if it was really owing." + +"Where did he go to?" asked Starling. + +"I don't know. New York City, I think." + +"I'll bet he either had the money or knew where it was," declared +Starling, with conviction. "Don't you see, fellows, he did just what any +one would do in his case? He stuck around so he wouldn't be suspected. +If he'd gone right off, folks would have said he was trying to avoid +being asked about the money. And then he faked up the yarn about the old +gentleman owing him wages. A first-class detective would have got trace +of the coin, I'll wager!" + +"You've been reading _Sherlock Holmes_," laughed Lee. "Why don't you +follow up your clue, find the negro, and restore the lost wealth to the +starving heirs?" + +"Huh! If he did get the money, he's where even _Sherlock Holmes_ +wouldn't find him by this time. Some one should have followed the fellow +and kept watch on him right then. How old was he, Watson?" + +"About fifty, I guess. They say he had white whiskers, anyway. Oh, he +didn't know any more than he said he did. He was all right. He had been +with old Coventry for years and years, one of those old-time family +servants, you know, honest and faithful. Why, he went on something +fierce when the old chap died!" + +"Say, how much of this guff is real and how much of it is English +composition?" asked Lee, suspiciously. "How do you know the negro took +on when the old codger died? You weren't here." + +"Maybe I heard it," replied George, grinning. + +"Yes, and maybe you just made it up, like the stuff about the ghost," +Lee retorted sarcastically. "I've heard the yarn two or three times, but +I never heard that the negro had white whiskers or that he went into +mourning!" + +"It's a fact, though," declared the other, warmly. "I prepared mighty +well on that comp.; talked with half a dozen persons who knew the story. +Got most of the stuff from the Widow Deane, though. Old Coventry had +been dead only about two years then and folks were still talking about +him. The Widow doesn't think the old chap had nearly as much money as he +was supposed to have." + +"She has the little store around on the back street?" asked Starling. + +"Yes. She took that as her share." + +"Her share of what?" demanded Lee. + +"Why, of the estate. Old Coventry owned the whole half-block right +through from Walnut Street to Pine. She rented that house from him until +he died; paid a good stiff price, too; and then, when the estate was +finally settled, she took it as her share, although she had to pay the +other heirs something because they claimed that it was worth more than +she had a right to." + +"Look here," said Lee, "do you mean that the Widow Deane was one of old +Coventry's heirs?" + +"Of course! Didn't you know it? She was a half-sister. She lived over in +New Jersey, she told me, until her husband died. Then she wrote to old +Coventry, asking him to help her because she didn't have much money, and +he invited her to come here. She thought he meant to give her a home +with him; but when she got here, the best he would do was rent her that +little house around on Pine Street and stock it up for her as a store. +Then he built a fence between the two places. It used to be open right +through." + +"Gee, you certainly know a lot of ancient history!" marveled Lee. + +"I believe in being thorough," laughed George. "When I tackle a subject +I get a fall out of it." + +"So when I trail the murderer--I mean the thief," reflected Starling, +"I'll be doing the old lady back there a good turn, won't I?" + +"Surest thing you know!" agreed George. + +"And she needs the money, I guess. I don't believe she makes a fortune +out of that emporium. And that daughter of hers is a nice kid, too." + +"How many other heirs are there to share in the money when Starling +finds it?" asked Laurie. + +"I don't know. Quite a bunch, I believe. The old chap wasn't married, +and the heirs are nephews and nieces and things like that. The Widow's +the only one living around here, though." + +"Well, when I do find it," laughed Starling, "I'll keep it quiet and +hand it all over to the Widow." + +"He wants to make a hit with Polly," said Lee. "He's a fox." + +"I've never seen her," Starling denied. + +"Well, she's a mighty pretty girl," George avowed. "If you don't believe +me, ask Nod." + +Laurie looked intensely innocent and very surprised. "Why me?" he asked +blandly. + +George shook his head, grinning. "You can't get away with it, son! Think +I didn't see you making love to the old lady this afternoon?" + +"Well," Laurie laughed, "I thought it was Polly you spoke of." + +"Sure, but she was busy waiting on a bunch of juniors and so you made up +to the Widow. We saw you smirking and talking sweet to her, didn't we, +Lee? Butter wouldn't have melted in the dear lamb's mouth. And I thought +the old lady seemed rather taken with him, too; didn't you, Lee?" + +"Rather! It was positively sickening! Talk about foxes--" + +"Oh, dry up and blow away!" muttered Laurie. "Say, the rain's stopped +now--pretty nearly." + +"Wants to get away from the embarrassing subject," George confided to +Starling. "Well, I never desert a pal, Nod. Come on, we'll trot along. +Much obliged for taking us in, Starling. Hope we haven't ruined your +rug. Half-past three to-morrow, if the courts are dry. I'll meet you in +School Hall." + +"Glad to have you drop around at my room some time," said Lee. "I'm in +West; Number 7." + +"Same here," added Laurie; "16 East Hall. Thanks, Starling." + +"You're welcome. Come in again, fellows. When I get that tennis-court +fixed up, we'll have some fun here. You needn't wait for that, though. +I'd like you to meet my father and aunt. No one's at home just now. I +say, better take a couple of umbrellas." + +"Not worth it, thanks," answered Lee. "After that deluge, this is just +an April shower. So long!" + +Lee's statement wasn't much of an exaggeration, and the three continued +their way to the school unhurriedly. George remarked gloomily that it +didn't look awfully promising for tennis on the morrow, adding: "I'll +bet that chap's a corking good player, too." + +"Maybe you'll learn a little about the game from him," said Laurie, +sweetly. "How old do you say he is?" + +"Starling? Oh, seventeen, maybe. He's in upper middle." + +"Sixteen, more likely," said George. "He seems a decent sort, eh? How +did you come to know him?" + +"I didn't really know him. He's in some of my classes and we've spoken a +couple of times. Rather a--an interesting kind of chap. Wonder what his +father does here. Funny place for him to come to. He spoke of an aunt, +but didn't say anything about a mother. Guess she's dead. Auntie +probably keeps house for them." + +As they entered the gate George chuckled and Laurie asked, "What's your +trouble, Old-Timer!" + +"I was just thinking what a joke it would be if Starling took that stuff +seriously about the hidden money and began to hack away the woodwork and +dig up the cellar floor!" + +"Why, wasn't it true?" + +"Sure! At least, as true as anything is that folks tell. You know, Nod, +after being repeated a couple of hundred times a story sort of grows." + +Lee grunted. "After some smart Aleck has written it up as an English +comp. its own mother wouldn't know it! The real joke would be for +Starling to wreck the woodwork and find the money!" + +"No, that wouldn't be a joke," said George, "that would be a movie! Come +on! It's starting again! Last man in East buys the sodas! Come on, Lee!" + +Lee and Laurie ran a dead heat, and all the way to George's room, on the +second floor, each sought to shift to the other the responsibility of +providing the soda-water for the trio. In the end, George appointed +himself referee and halved the responsibility between them. + +When, twenty minutes later, Laurie climbed onward to Number 16, he found +a very disgruntled Ned curled up in the window-seat, which was now +plentifully supplied with cushions. "Where've you been all the +afternoon?" he demanded aggrievedly. + +"Many places," replied Laurie, cheerfully. "Why the grouch?" + +"You'd have a grouch, I reckon, if you'd messed around with a soggy +football for almost two hours in a cloud-burst!" + +"Did you--er--get wet?" + +"Oh, no, I didn't get wet! I carried an umbrella all the time, you silly +toad! Or maybe you think they roofed the gridiron over for us?" + +"Well, I got sort of water-logged myself, and don't you let any one tell +you any different! Wait till I return this rain-coat and I'll tell you +about it." + +"I've got troubles enough of my own," grumbled Ned, as Laurie crossed +the corridor. + +Kewpie wasn't in when the borrowed garment was returned, but Hop +Kendrick was, and Hop said it was quite all right, that Ned was welcome +to anything of Kewpie's at any time, and please just stick it in the +closet or somewhere. And Laurie thanked him gratefully and placed the +rain-coat, which wasn't very wet now, where he had found it. And the +incident would have ended then and there if it hadn't started in to rain +cats and dogs again after supper and if Kewpie hadn't taken it into his +head to pay a visit to a fellow in West Hall. Which is introductory to +the fact that at eight o'clock that evening, while Ned and Laurie were +conscientiously absorbed in preparing to-morrow's Latin, a large and +irate youth appeared at the door of Number 16 with murder in his eyes +and what appeared to be gore on his hands! + +"That's a swell way to return a fellow's coat!" he accused. + +He brandished one gory hand dramatically, and with the other exhumed +from a pocket of the garment a moist and shapeless mass of brown paper +and chocolate creams. "Look at this!" he exhorted. "It--it's all over +me! The pocket's a regular glue-pot! Ugh!" + +Laurie looked and his shoulders heaved. + +"Oh, Kewpie!" he gurgled, contrition--or something--quite overmastering +him. "I'm s-s-so s-s-sorry!" + +Kewpie regarded him scathingly a moment, while syrupy globules detached +themselves from the exhibit and ran along his wrist. Finally he +exploded: "Sorry! Yes, you are!" + +Whereupon the door closed behind him with an indignant crash, and +Laurie, unable longer to contain his sorrow, dropped his head on his +books and gave way to it unrestrainedly. + + + + +CHAPTER IX--LAURIE HEARS NEWS + + +October arrived with the first touch of cooler weather, and the football +candidates, who had panted and perspired under summer conditions for a +fortnight, took heart. Among these was Ned. Laurie, who at first had had +to alternate sympathy and severity in order to keep his brother's +courage to the sticking-point, now found that his encouragement was no +longer needed. Ned was quite as much in earnest as any fellow who wore +canvas. Probably he was not destined ever to become a mighty player, for +he seemed to lack that quality which coaches, unable to describe, call +football instinct. But he had made progress--surprising progress when it +is considered that he had known virtually nothing of the game two weeks +before. + +Laurie, whose afternoons were still absorbed by baseball, viewed Ned's +efforts as something of a joke, much to the latter's chagrin, and +continued to do so until a chance conversation with Thurman Kendrick +opened his eyes. Hop had come across one forenoon to borrow some notes +and had tarried a moment to talk. In those days, when Hop talked he +talked of just one subject, and that subject was football, and he +introduced it to-day. + +"We've got to do better to-morrow than we did last week," he said +earnestly, "or we'll get licked hard. Cole's was fairly easy, but +Highland is a tough customer. Our trouble so far has been slowness, and +Highland's as fast as they make them. Somehow, Mulford doesn't seem able +to get any pep into our bunch. The line isn't so bad, but the back +field's like cold glue." + +"That's up to the quarter, isn't it?" asked Laurie, anxious to prove +himself not absolutely ignorant of the subject. + +"Yes, partly; but it's up to the coach first. If the backs aren't used +to working fast, the quarter can't make them. Frank Brattle's a good +quarter, Nod. I sort of wish he wasn't so good!" + +"Meaning you'd have a better chance of swiping his job?" smiled Laurie. + +"Oh, I'll never do that; but if he wasn't so good I'd get in more often. +The best I can hope for this year is to get in for maybe a full period +in the Farview game. Anyway, I'll get my letter, and maybe next year +I'll land in the position. Frank's a senior, you know." + +"Is he? I haven't seen much practice so far. Baseball keeps me pretty +busy." + +"How are you getting on?" + +"Slow, I'm afraid. Anyway, you could easily tell Babe Ruth and me +apart!" + +"I guess you're doing better than you let on," said Hop. "If you're as +good at baseball as your brother is at football, you'll do." + +"I guess I am," laughed Laurie; "just about!" + +"Well, Nid is surely coming fast," replied Hop, gravely. "He's been +doing some nice work the last few days." + +Laurie stared. "Say, what are you doing, Hop? Stringing me?" he +demanded. + +"Stringing you?" Hop looked puzzled. "Why, no. How do you mean?" + +"About Ned. Do you mean that he's really playing football?" + +"Why, of course I do. Didn't you know it?" + +Laurie shook his head. "He's been telling me a lot of stuff, but I +thought he was just talking, the way I've been, to sort of keep his +courage up." + +"Nonsense! Nid's doing mighty well. I don't know how much experience +he's had; some ways he acts sort of green; but he's got Mason worried, I +guess. If he had another fifteen pounds he'd make the team sure. As it +is, I wouldn't be surprised to see him play a whole lot this fall. You +see, he's a pretty good punter, Nod, and yesterday he blossomed out as a +drop-kicker, too. Landed the ball over from about the thirty yards and +from a hard angle. Mason doesn't do any kicking, and it's no bad thing +to have a fellow in the back field who can help Pope out in a pinch. +It's his kicking ability that'll get him on if anything does." + +"I see," said Laurie, thoughtfully. "Well, I'm mighty glad. To tell the +truth, Hop, Ned hasn't had an awful lot of experience. He's had to bluff +a good deal." + +"I suspected something of the sort from seeing him work the first week +or so. And then Kewpie said something that sort of lined up with the +idea. Well, he's working hard and he's making good. Much obliged for +these, Nod. I'll fetch them back in ten minutes." + +When Kendrick had taken his departure Laurie stared thoughtfully for a +minute into space. Finally he shook his head and smiled. "Good old Ned!" +he murmured. "I'm sorry I ragged him so. Gee, I'll have to buckle down +to my own job or he'll leave me at the post!" + +After practice that afternoon, Laurie and Lee picked up George and Bob +Starling at the tennis-courts, and, after changing into "cits," went +around to the doctor's porch and joined a dozen other lads who were +engaged in drinking Miss Tabitha's weak tea and eating her +soul-satisfying layer-cake. After a half-hour of batting and fielding +practice and a five-inning game between the first team and the scrubs, +Laurie was in a most receptive mood as far as refreshments were +concerned. Miss Tabitha made an ideal hostess, for she left conversation +to the guests and occupied herself in seeing that cups and plates were +kept filled. No one had yet discovered the number of helpings of cake +that constituted Miss Tabitha's limit of hospitality, and there was a +story of a junior so depressed by homesickness that he had +absent-mindedly consumed six wedges of it and was being urged to a +seventh when some inner voice uttered a saving warning. In spite of very +healthy appetites, none of the quartette sought to compete with that +record, but Laurie and George did allow themselves to be persuaded to +third helpings, declining most politely until they feared to decline any +more. Before they had finished, the doctor joined the group and made +himself very agreeable, telling several funny stories that set every one +laughing and caused a small junior--it was the cherub-faced youth who +sat at Laurie's table in the dining-hall and whose career thus far had +proved anything but that of a cherub--to swallow a mouthful of mocha +cake the wrong way, with disastrous results. During the ensuing +confusion the quartette took their departure. At the gate Bob Starling +said: + +"By the way, fellows, I spoke to Dad about that tennis-court, and he's +written to the agent for permission. He says there won't be any trouble; +and if there is, he'll agree to put the garden back the way we found it +and erect a new arbor." + +"What will it be?" asked George. "Sod or gravel?" + +"Oh, gravel. You couldn't get a sod court in shape under a year, and I +want to use it this fall. I'm going to look around to-morrow for some +one to do the job. Know who does that sort of work here--Lee?" + +"No, but I suppose you get a contractor; one of those fellows who build +roads and stone walls and things." + +"I'd ask at the court-house," said Laurie. + +"At the court--oh, that's a punk one!" jeered Bob. "See you later, +fellows!" + +The game with Highland Academy was played across the river at Lookout, +and most of the fellows went. In spite of Hop Kendrick's pessimistic +prophecy, Hillman's took command of the situation in the first quarter +and held it undisturbed to the final whistle. The contest was, if not +extremely fast, well played by both teams, and the hosts refused to +acknowledge defeat until the end. Captain Stevenson, at left tackle, was +the bright, particular star of the day, with the redoubtable Pope a good +second. + +It was Joe Stevenson's capture of a fumbled ball in the first five +minutes of play and his amazing run through the enemy ranks that +produced the initial score. Pope kicked an easy goal after Slavin, right +half, had plunged through for a touch-down. Later in the game, Pope had +added three more points by a place-kick from the forty-two yards. +Highland twice reached the Blue's ten-yard line, the first time losing +the ball on downs, and the next attempting a forward pass that went +astray. Her one opportunity to score by a kick was wrecked by no other +than Kewpie, who, having substituted Holmes at the beginning of the +second half, somehow shot his hundred and seventy pounds through the +defense and met the pigskin with his nose. Kewpie presented a +disreputable appearance for several days, but was given due honor. +Hillman's returned across the Hudson in the twilight of early October +with exultant cheers and songs. + +Ned watched that game from the substitutes' bench, just as he had +watched the two preceding contests, but a newly awakened _esprit de +corps_ forbade complaining. When Laurie sympathetically observed that he +thought it was time Mulford gave Ned a chance in a real game, Ned +responded with dignity, almost with severity, that he guessed the coach +knew his business. + +The first of the month--or, to be exact, the fourth--brought the twins +their monthly allowances, and one of the first things Laurie did was to +go to the little blue shop on Pine Street and pay his bill, which had +reached its prescribed limit several days before. Ned went, too, +although he didn't display much enthusiasm over the mission. Ned held +that, having created a bill, it was all wrong deliberately to destroy +it. To his mind, a bill was something to cherish and preserve. Laurie, +however, pointed out that, since one was prohibited from further +transactions at the Widow's, even on a cash basis, as long as one owed +money there, it would be wise to cancel the debts. Ned recognized the +wisdom of the statement and reluctantly parted with ninety-seven cents. + +Since it was only a little after two o'clock, the shop was empty when +the twins entered, and Polly and her mother were just finishing their +lunch in the back room. It was Polly who answered the tinkle of the bell +and who, after some frowning and turning of pages in the account-book, +canceled the indebtedness. + +"Now," said Ned, "I guess I'll have a cream-cake. Want one, Laurie?" + +Laurie did, in spite of the fact that it was less than an hour since +dinner. Mrs. Deane appeared at the door, observed the proceeding, and +smiled. + +"I'm real glad to see you're still alive," she said to Ned. "I guess he +must take very good care of you." + +"Yes'm, I do," Laurie assured her gravely. + +Ned laughed scornfully, or as scornfully as it was possible to laugh +with his mouth full. "You shouldn't believe everything he tells you, +Mrs. Deane. I have to look after him like a baby. Why, he wouldn't get +down in time for breakfast if I didn't put most of his clothes on." + +"That's no joke, either," retorted Laurie, "about you putting my clothes +on. You're wearing one of my collars and my best socks right now, +and--yes, sir, that's my blue tie!" + +"Wait a bit, partner! Where'd you get that shirt you're wearing?" + +"That's different," answered Laurie, with dignity. "Mine are all in the +wash. Besides, it's an old one and you never wear it." + +"I never get a chance to wear it!" + +"It must be very convenient for you," said Mrs. Deane, smilingly, "to be +able to wear each other's things. Polly, I guess there won't be any one +else in for a while; maybe they'd like to see your garden." + +Being assured that they would, Polly led the way through the back room, +a pleasant, sunny apartment evidently combining the duties of kitchen +and dining-room, and out to a little back porch shaded by +morning-glories and nasturtiums that fairly ran riot over the green +lattice. There was a braided rug on the floor and a small rocker and a +tiny table on which were books and a magazine or two. The books were +evidently Polly's school books, for they were held together by a strap. + +The twins liked that garden. It wasn't very large, for when the peculiar +Mr. Coventry had divided the estate he had placed the high board fence +very close to the little frame dwelling; but perhaps its very smallness +made it seem more attractive. Narrow beds encompassed it on three sides, +and a gravel walk followed the beds. In the tiny square inside, a small +rustic arbor, covered with climbing rose-vines, held a seat that, as was +presently proved, accommodated three very comfortably. + +But before they were allowed to sit down the boys had to be shown many +things: the hollyhocks against the back fence, the flowering almond that +had been brought all the way from the old home in New Jersey,--and had +never quite made up its mind whether to die of homesickness or go on +living,--the bed of lilies-of-the-valley that just _wouldn't_ keep out +of the path and many other floral treasures. Nasturtiums and +morning-glories and scarlet sage and crinkly-edged white and lavender +petunias were still blossoming gaily, and there was even a cluster of +white roses on the arbor, for, so far, no frost had come. The twins +admired properly and Polly was all smiles, until suddenly she said, +"O-oh!" and faced them reproachfully. + +"You've just let me go on and be perfectly ridiculous!" she charged. "I +don't think it's a bit nice of you!" + +"Why, what--how do you mean?" stammered Ned. + +"You have the most wonderful flowers in the world in California, and you +know it!" she replied severely; "and you've let me show you these poor +little things as if--as if they were anything at all in comparison! I +forgot you came from California." + +"Maybe we didn't tell you," offered Laurie. "Anyway, your flowers--" + +"In California they have hedges of geraniums and roses climb right over +the houses, and orange-trees and palms and everything," interrupted +Polly, breathlessly. "Why, this garden must seem perfectly--perfectly +_awful_ to you!" + +"Don't you believe it!" denied Ned. "Flowers and things do grow bigger, +I suppose, out our way; but they aren't a bit prettier, are they, +Laurie?" + +"Not so pretty," answered the other, earnestly. "Besides, _I_ never saw +a geranium hedge in my life. Maybe they have them in some places, like +Pasadena, but there isn't _one_ in Santa Lucia, honest. There isn't, is +there, Ned?" + +"_I_ never saw one. And palms aren't awfully pretty. They get sort of +scraggly-looking sometimes. Honest, Polly, I never saw a garden any +prettier and cuter than this is. Of course, some are bigger and--and +more magnificent--" + +"Who wants a magnificent garden?" demanded Laurie, scornfully. "What +have you got in the box, Polly?" + +Comforted, Polly smiled again. "That's Antoinette," she said. "Come and +see." + +Antoinette lived in a wooden box in the shelter of the porch, and had +long ears and very blue eyes and a nose that twitched funnily when they +approached. In short, Antoinette was a fluffy smoke-gray rabbit. "She +has a dreadfully long pedigree," said Polly, as she took Antoinette out +and snuggled her in her arms. + +"Has she?" murmured Laurie. "I thought it looked rather short." + +"A pedigree isn't a _tail_, you idiot," said Ned, scathingly. "She's +awfully pretty, Polly. Will she bite?" + +"Of course not! At least, not unless you look like a cabbage-leaf." + +"I wouldn't take a chance," Laurie advised. "Any one who's as green as +you are--" + +"She _tries_ to eat 'most everything," said Polly, "but she likes +cabbage and lettuce and carrots best." + +"I wish I had a cabbage," muttered Laurie, searching his pockets; "or a +carrot. You haven't a carrot with you, have you, Ned?" + +"You're the silliest boys!" laughed Polly, returning Antoinette to her +box. "Let's go and sit down a minute." And when they were on the seat +under the arbor and she had smoothed her skirt and tucked a pair of +rather soiled white canvas shoes from sight, she announced, "There! Now +you can make up a verse about something!" + + + + +CHAPTER X--POLLY ENTERTAINS + + +"Make up a--what did you say?" asked Ned. + +"Make up a verse," answered Polly, placidly. "As you did the other day +when you went out. Don't you remember?" + +"Oh!" Laurie looked somewhat embarrassed and a trifle silly. "Why, you +see--we only do that when--when--" + +"When we have inspiration," aided Ned, glibly. + +"Yes, that's it, inspiration! We--we have to have inspiration." + +"I'm sure Antoinette ought to be enough inspiration to any poet," +returned Polly, laughing. "You know you never saw a more beautiful +rabbit in your life--lives, I mean." + +Ned looked inquiringly at Laurie. Then he said, "Well, maybe if I close +my eyes a minute--" He suited action to word. Polly viewed him with +eager interest; Laurie, with misgiving. Finally, after a moment of +silent suspense, his eyelids flickered and: + +"O Antoinette, most lovely of thy kind!" he declaimed. + +"Thou eatest cabbages and watermelon rind!" finished Laurie, promptly. + +Polly clapped her hands, but her approval was short-lived. "But she +doesn't eatest watermelon rind," she declared indignantly. "I'm sure it +wouldn't be at all good for her!" + +Laurie grinned. "That's what we call poetic license," he explained. +"When you make a rhyme, sometimes you've got to--to sacrifice truth +for--in the interests of--I mean, you've got to think of the _sound_! +'Kind' and 'carrot' wouldn't sound _right_, don't you see?" + +"Well, I'm sure watermelon rind doesn't sound right, either," objected +Polly; "not for a rabbit. Rabbits have very delicate digestions." + +"We might change it," offered Ned. "How would this do? + + "O Antoinette, more lovely than a parrot, + Thou dost subsist on cabbages and carrot." + +"That's silly," said Polly, scornfully. + +"Poetry usually is silly," Ned answered. + +Laurie, who had been gazing raptly at his shoes, broke forth exultantly. +"I've got it!" he cried. "Listen! + + "O Antoinette, most beauteous of rabbits, + Be mine and I will feed thee naught but cabbits!" + +A brief silence followed. Then Ned asked, "What are cabbits?" + +"Cabbits are vegetables," replied Laurie. + +"I never heard of them," said Polly, wrinkling her forehead. + +"Neither did any one else," laughed Ned. "He just made them up to rhyme +with rabbits." + +"A cabbit," said Laurie, loftily, "is something between a cabbage and a +carrot." + +"What does it look like?" giggled Polly. + +Laurie blinked. "We-ell, you've seen a--you've seen an artichoke, +haven't you?" Polly nodded and Laurie blinked again. "And you've seen +a--a mangel-wurzel?" + +"No, I don't think so." + +"Then I don't see how I can tell you," said Laurie, evidently relieved, +"because a cabbit is more like a mangel-wurzel than anything else. Of +course, it's not so deciduous, and the shape is different; it's more +obvate than a mangel-wurzel; more--" he swept his hands vaguely in +air--"more phenomenal." + +"Oh, dry up," said Ned, grinning. "How'd you like to have to put up with +an idiot like that all your life, Polly? The worst of it is, folks +sometimes mistake him for me!" + +"Yes, it's awful, but I manage to bear up under it," Laurie sighed. + +"How did you ever come to think of making those funny rhymes?" Polly +asked. + +"Oh, we had measles once, about four years ago," said Ned. "We always +had everything together--measles, whooping-cough, scarlet fever, +everything. And when we were getting over it they wouldn't let us read +and so we made up rhymes. I forget whose idea it was. I'd make up one +line and Laurie would make up the other, or the other way round. The +idea was to have the last word of the first line so hard that the other +fellow couldn't rhyme to it. But I guess I only stuck Laurie once. Then +the word was lemon." + +"You didn't really stick me then," Laurie denied. "I rhymed it with +demon. You said they didn't rhyme, but I showed you a rhyming dictionary +that said they did." + +"The dictionary said it was an imperfect rhyme, Laurie, and--" + +"Just the same, a rhyme's a rhyme. Say, Ned, remember the one we made up +about Miss Yetter?" Ned nodded and grinned. "Miss Yetter was our nurse. +We thought it was pretty clever, but she didn't like it. + + "When feeling ill send for Miss Yetter. + If you don't die, she'll make you better." + +"She was quite insulted about it," laughed Ned, "and told Dad; and he +tried to lecture us, but we got laughing so he couldn't. We made rhymes +all the time for a while and nearly drove folks crazy; and finally Dad +said if we didn't stop it he'd whale us. And I said, 'All right, sir, +we'll try not to do it'; and Laurie, the chump, butted in with, ''Cause +if we do, we know we'll rue it!' We nearly got the licking right then!" + +"You _are_ funny!" laughed Polly. "Is your mother--haven't you--" + +"She died when we were kids," answered Laurie. "I just remember her, but +Ned doesn't." + +"You think you do. You've just heard Dad, and nurse talk about her. We +were only four when Mother died." + +Laurie looked unconvinced, but didn't argue the matter. Instead he +asked, "Your father's dead, isn't he, Polly?" + +"Yes, he died when I was eight. He was a dear, and I missed him just +terribly. Mother says I look like him. He was very tall and was always +laughing. Mother says he laughed so much he didn't have time for +anything else. She means that he wasn't--wasn't very successful. We were +very poor when he died. But I guess he was lots nicer than he would have +been if he had just been--successful. I guess the most successful man in +this town is Mr. Sparks, the banker, and no one has ever seen him laugh +once. And Uncle Peter was successful, too, I suppose; and he was just as +sour and ill-tempered as anything. He wasn't my real uncle, but I called +him that because Mother said it would please him. It didn't seem to." + +"Was that Mr. Coventry?" asked Laurie. "The mis--I mean the man who +lived in the big square house over there?" + +"Yes. And I don't mind your calling him the miser, because that is just +what he was. He was Mother's half-brother, but he didn't act as if he +was even a quarter-brother! He was always just as horrid as he could be. +When Father died he wrote Mother to come here and he would provide her +with a home. And when we came, we found he meant that Mother was to live +here and pay him rent. She didn't have enough money to do that, and so +Uncle Peter made the front of the house into a store and bought some +things for her and made her sign a mortgage or something. When he died, +we thought maybe he had left Mother a little; but there wasn't any will, +and not much property, either--just the big house on Walnut Street and +this place and about two thousand dollars. When the property was +divided, Mother got the other heirs to let her have this as her portion +of the estate, but she had to pay four hundred and fifty dollars for it. +That took about all she had saved and more, and so we haven't been able +to do much to the house yet." + +"It doesn't look as if it needed much doing to," said Ned, critically. + +"Oh, but it does! It needs a new coat of paint, for one thing. And some +of the blinds are broken. And there ought to be a furnace in it. Stoves +don't really keep it warm in winter. Some day we'll fix it up nicely, +though. As soon as I get through high school, I'm going to work and make +a lot of money." + +"Attaboy!" approved Ned. "What are you going to do, Polly?" + +"I'm learning stenography and typewriting, and Mr. Farmer, the +lawyer,--he's the one who got the others to let Mother have the house +when Uncle Peter's estate was settled,--says he will find a place for me +in his office. He's awfully nice. Some stenographers make lots of money, +don't they?" + +"I guess so," Ned agreed. "There's a woman in Dad's office who gets +eighteen dollars a week." + +Polly clasped her hands delightedly. "Maybe I wouldn't get that much, +though. I guess Mr. Farmer doesn't pay his stenographer very high wages. +Maybe I'd get twelve dollars, though. Don't you think I might?" + +"Sure!" said Laurie. "Don't you let any one tell you any different. +Didn't folks think that your Uncle Peter left more money than was found, +Polly?" + +"Oh, yes; but no one really knew. The lawyers looked everywhere. If he +did have any more, he must have hidden it away pretty well. They looked +all through the house and dug holes in the cellar floor. It was very +exciting. Mother thinks he lost what money he had speculating in stocks +and things. He used to go to New York about four times a year. No one +knew what he did there, not even Hilary; but Mother thinks he went to +see men who deal in stocks and that they got his money away from him." + +"Who is Hilary?" Laurie inquired. + +"Hilary was a colored man that Uncle had had a long time. It seemed to +me that if Uncle had had much money, Hilary would have known about it; +and he didn't." + +"Where is he now? Hilary, I mean," added Laurie, somewhat unnecessarily. + +"I don't know. He went away a little while after Uncle Peter died. He +said he was going to New York, I think." + +"You don't suppose he took the money with him, do you? I mean--" + +"Oh no!" Polly seemed quite horrified. "Hilary was just as honest as +honest! Why, Uncle Peter died owing him almost forty dollars and Hilary +never got a cent of it! The lawyers were too mean for anything!" + +"There's a fellow named Starling living there now," Laurie said. "His +father's rented the house for three years. Bob says that he's going to +find the money and give it to your mother." + +Polly laughed. "Oh, I wish that he would! But I guess if the lawyers +couldn't find it he never will. Lawyers, they say, can find money when +nobody else can! Is he nice?" + +"Bob? Yes, he's a dandy chap. You ought to know him, Polly; he's your +next-door neighbor." + +"Back-door neighbor, you mean," interpolated Ned. + +"I think I saw him in the garden one day," said Polly. "His father is an +engineer, Mae Ferrand says, and he's building a big bridge for the +railway. Or maybe it's a tunnel. I forget." + +"Is Mae Something the girl with the molasses-candy hair you were with at +the high school game?" Laurie asked. + +"Yes, but her hair isn't like molasses candy. It's perfectly lovely +hair. It's like--like diluted sunshine!" + +Laurie whistled. "Gee! Did you get that, Neddie? Well, anyway, I like +dark hair better." + +"Oh, I don't! I'd love to have hair like Mae's. And, what do you think, +she likes my hair better than her own!" + +"Don't blame her," said Laurie. "What do you say, Ned?" + +"I say I've got to beat it back and get into football togs. What time is +it?" + +"Look at your own watch, you lazy loafer. Well, come on. I say, Polly, +would your mother let you go to the game with me Saturday? That is, if +you want to, of course." + +"Oh, I'd love to! But--I'll ask her, anyway. And if she says I may, +would you mind if Mae went too? We usually go together to the games." + +"Not a bit. I'll be around again before Saturday and see what she says." + +"I wouldn't be surprised if she said yes," remarked Polly. "I think she +must like you boys. Anyway, you're the first of the Hillman's boys she +has ever let me invite out here." + +"Really? Bully for her! Wait till I say farewell to Antoinette, 'most +beauteous of rabbits!' What does she twitch her nose like that for?" + +"I think she's asking for some cabbits," replied Polly, gravely. + +"She's making faces at you, you chump," said Ned, rudely. "Come on." +They returned through the little living-room, empty save for a big black +cat asleep in a rocking-chair, and found Mrs. Deane serving the first of +the afternoon trade in the shop beyond. They said good afternoon to her +very politely, and Polly went to the door with them. Outside on the +walk, Ned nudged Laurie, and they paused side by side and gravely +removed their caps. + +"We give you thanks and say farewell, Miss Polly." + +"The visit's been, indeed, most jolly!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI--NED SPEAKS OUT + + +There was a cut in the football squad that afternoon and more than a +dozen candidates were retired, leaving twenty-eight players for the +first and scrub teams. Ned survived, as, indeed, he expected to; for, +while he knew his limitations, neither the coach nor the captain +appeared to. Perhaps they were sometimes puzzled over flashes of +ineptitude, or perhaps they put them down to temporary reversals of +form; at least, Ned's talent was never seriously questioned by them. He +had settled down as a regular half-back on the scrub eleven, although +twice he had been called on in practice scrimmages to take Mason's place +at left half on the first squad. He was too light to make much headway +in bucking plays, and his inability to start quickly handicapped him +frequently in running; but as a kicker he was dependable and had +developed a quite remarkable accuracy at forward passing. Against a +light opponent or a slow one he could be counted on to play a fairly +good game, although so far he had not been allowed the opportunity. With +him on the scrub team was Hop Kendrick at quarter, and, for a time, +Kewpie at center. But Kewpie had trained down at last to a hundred and +sixty-five pounds and was handling his weight and bulk with a new +snappiness, and a few days after Ned became a part of the scrub outfit +Kewpie was elevated to the first team, and a much disgruntled Holmes +took his place on the second. + +With the defeat of Wagner School, Hillman's ended her preliminary +season. In that contest, played at home, the Blue showed a new +aggressiveness and much more speed; and, while she was able to score +only one touch-down, and Pope failed miserably at goal, every one was +well satisfied. Wagner had a strong team, and a victory over it was no +small triumph. Hillman's line held splendidly under the battering-ram +tactics of the adversary, and her backs were fast and shifty. On attack, +the Blue failed to gain consistently; but in the third period, with a +captured fumble on Wagner's thirty-three yards for encouragement, Pope +got free for half the distance, and Slavin and Mason, alternating, +worked the enemy's left side until the ball lay on the five-yard line. +Then a fake attack on Wagner's right, with Pope carrying the ball +through on the left of center, brought the only score of the day. Kewpie +proved himself that afternoon, for he was a veritable Rock of Gibraltar +on defense and a hundred and sixty-five pounds of steel springs on +attack. The Blue team was far from a perfect machine yet, but it seemed +that Mulford had found his parts and that only a generous oiling was +needed. + +Laurie and George Watson escorted Polly and Mae Ferrand to the game, +and, although aware of the covert grins and whispered witticisms of +acquaintances, enjoyed themselves hugely. Mae proved to be a very jolly, +wholesome sort of girl, and her knowledge of what may be termed "inside +football" was stupendous and made both Laurie and George rather ashamed +of their ignorance. Between the halves, Ned, arrayed in a trailing gray +blanket, joined them and promptly became involved with Mae in a very +technical argument that no one else could follow. From the fact that Ned +retired with a rather dispirited expression when the teams came on +again, Laurie surmised that the honors had gone to Mae. + +The following Monday evening, while the enthusiasm produced by the +victory over Wagner School was still undiminished, a second mass-meeting +was held in the auditorium to devise means of replenishing the football +treasury: Three of the remaining five games were to be played away from +Orstead, and in two cases the distance to be traveled was considerable +and the expenses consequently large. As Joe Stevenson said, introducing +the subject for discussion, if Hillman's charged admission to her home +games, it would be possible to get through a season without asking for +assistance from the student body. "But you fellows know that that isn't +the school policy. We are allowed to sell tickets for the Farview game +only, and, while we make about four hundred and fifty dollars as our +share, that doesn't go very far against the season's outlay. We have to +pay from seventy-five to a hundred and twenty-five dollars to every team +that comes here to play us. When we go away we seldom make enough to pay +our expenses. In the Highland game, because it cost us almost nothing +for fares, we did. At the present moment we have a cash balance on hand +of forty-three dollars, and our liabilities, including Mr. Mulford's +salary for the remainder of the season, are about eight hundred dollars. + +"The manager estimates that we'll have to incur added expenses for about +a hundred and twenty dollars for Farview game tickets and new supplies. +In short, we shall have to pay out, before the season ends, about nine +hundred dollars. Against that we have on hand forty-three dollars, and +in prospect something like five hundred, leaving us about three hundred +and fifty in the hole. + +"There has been talk of cutting out the Lansing and Whittier games, but +that wouldn't make enough difference. Besides, it would give us a black +eye to cancel games as late as this. We might save perhaps seventy +dollars if we did, but it would cost us ten times that in public +estimation. As far as I can see, fellows, if we're going to have a +football team, we've got to pay for it. We've asked permission to charge +admission, even a nominal one, to all games, but the faculty is against +it. And we have asked to have a regular assessment made against each +student. To many of us that would seem the fairer and most satisfactory +way of meeting the emergency. But the faculty doesn't like that any +better than the other proposition. So I guess it's up to us, each and +every one of us, to dig down and produce the coin. + +"We need three hundred and fifty dollars at least. That means that every +fellow in school must pony up four dollars, or, rather, that the average +must be four dollars each. Some of you can't give so much, probably, and +a few can give more. I'd like to hear from you, please. Don't be afraid +to say what you think. We want to get together on this matter and thrash +it out, if it takes until ten o'clock. Any one who has any suggestion to +offer or anything to say will be heard. Come on, somebody!" + +There were plenty of speakers: Dave Brewster, the baseball captain, Dan +Whipple, senior class president, Lew Cooper, upper middle class +president, Dave Murray, the manager of the team, Craig Jones, for the +lower middlers, and many others, Some subscribed to the donation scheme, +others opposed it. Cooper suggested an appeal to the school alumni. +Brewster pointed out that the effort would cost money and that the +result would be uncertain and, in any case, slow. An increase in the +price of tickets to the Farview game was discussed and the idea +abandoned. An hour passed and the meeting was getting nowhere. Some of +the younger boys had already withdrawn. A tall, lantern-jawed youth had +charged the football committee with extravagance, and Dave Murray had +bitterly resented the allegation. Ned, who, with Laurie and Lee Murdock, +was seated near the back of the hall, had shown signs of restiveness for +some time and had been muttering to himself. Now, to the surprise of his +companions, he jumped to his feet and demanded recognition: + +"Mr. Chairman!" + +"Mister--" Dan Whipple pointed a finger at Ned and nodded. + +"Turner," prompted Kewpie from a front seat. + +"Mr. Turner," encouraged the chairman. + +"I'd like to say that I never heard so much talking and saw so little +action," began Ned, impatiently. "What's the matter with some one saying +something useful instead of just chewing the rag?" + +"You tell 'em," piped a small junior, above the applause and laughter. + +"All right! I'll tell you fellows that you're a lot of pikers to +hesitate to pledge three or four hundred dollars to keep your team +going. Where I come from we had to have a new grand stand two years ago, +and we called a meeting like this and we raised seven hundred dollars in +thirty-five minutes in cash and pledges. There were a lot more of us, +but half of us would have felt like Rockefellers if we'd ever found a +whole half-dollar in our pockets! Some of us gave as high as five +dollars, but not many. Most of us pledged two dollars; and those who +didn't have two dollars went out and worked until they'd made it, by +jingo! And we got our grand stand up inside of two weeks, in time for +the big baseball game." + +There was real applause this time, and those in the front of the hall +had swung around to have a look at the earnest youth who was calling +them names. + +"That's one way of getting the money," continued Ned, warming up finely, +"but there's another. Out my way--" + +"Say, where do you come from?" called some one. + +"I come from California," answered Ned, proudly. "Maybe you've heard of +it!" + +"Attaboy!" shouted Kewpie. "Swing your leg, Nid!" + +"When we want to raise some money out there and folks are too stingy to +give it outright, we take it away from them another way. We get up a +fete. We give them a good time and they pay for it. Why not try it here? +I don't know how many folks there are in this burg, but I reckon there +are enough to part with three or four hundred dollars. Give them an +excuse to spend their money and they'll spend it!" + +Ned sat down amid loud applause, and Dave Brewster was recognized, +although half a dozen others were clamoring for speech. + +"Turner's said something, fellows," declared Brewster. "The idea's worth +considering. We've never tackled the town folks for money, and there's +no reason why they shouldn't come across. They've come to our games for +years without paying a cent, except for the Farview game, and it +wouldn't hurt them to give a little to a good cause. I don't know what +sort of a fete Turner has in mind, but I should think we might get up +something that would do the business." + +"Mr. Chairman," said Kewpie, "I move that a committee of three be +appointed by the chair, to include Nid,--I mean Mr. Turner,--to consider +the--the matter of giving a fete to raise the money." + +"Seconded!" + +"You have heard the motion," droned Whipple. "All those in favor will so +signify by saying 'Aye.' Contrary, 'No.' Moved and carried. I will +appoint the presidents of the senior and upper middle classes and Mr. +Turner to the committee, three in all. Is it the sense of this meeting +that your committee is to report to it at a subsequent meeting, or is it +to have authority to proceed with the matter if it decides that the +scheme is a good one?" + +"Full authority, Mr. Chairman!" "Let 'em go ahead with it!" "Sure! +That's what we want. Let's have action!" + +"Is there any other business? Then I declare the meeting adjourned!" + +Whipple captured Ned on the way out. "We'd better get together right +away on this, Turner," he said. "Can you meet Cooper and me at my room +to-morrow at twelve?" + +Ned agreed, and he and Laurie and Lee went on. "What I'd like to know," +remarked Laurie, after a moment's silence, "is how you're going to have +a fete in a place like this. The weather's too cold for it." + +"Maybe it will be warmer," answered Ned, cheerfully. "Besides, we don't +have to have it outdoors." + +"It wouldn't be a fete if you didn't," sniffed the other. + +"Well, what's the difference? Call it anything you like. The big thing +is to get the money." + +"You had your cheek with you to talk the way you did," chuckled Laurie. + +"He talked sense, though," asserted Lee, warmly. + +"Of course. The Turners always do." Laurie steered Ned toward the +entrance of East Hall. "Well, good night, Lee. See you at the fete!" + +Upstairs, Ned tossed his cap to the bed, plumped himself into a chair at +the table, and drew paper and pencil to him. "Now," he said, "let's +figure this out. I've got to talk turkey to those fellows to-morrow. +What's your idea, partner?" + +"Hey, where do you get that stuff?" demanded Laurie. "Why drag me into +it? It's not my fete. I don't own it." + +"Shut up and sit down there before I punch your head. You've got to help +with this. The honor of the Turners is at stake!" + +So Laurie subsided and for more than an hour he and Ned racked their +brains and gradually the plan took shape. + + + + +CHAPTER XII--THE COMMITTEE ON ARRANGEMENTS + + +"It's like this," explained Ned. He and Laurie and Polly and Mae Ferrand +were in the little garden behind the shop. The girls were on the bench +and the boys were seated on the turf before the arbor, their knees +encircled with their arms. A few yards away Antoinette eyed them gravely +and twitched her nose. On the porch step, Towser, the big black cat, +blinked benignly, sometimes shifting his gaze to the branches of the +maple in the next yard, where an impudent black-and-white woodpecker was +seeking a late luncheon. + +"There are two sub-committees," continued Ned, earnestly. "Whipple and +Cooper are the Committee on Finance and Publicity, and Laurie and I are +the Committee on Arrangements. I told them I had to have help and so +they took Laurie in." + +"No thanks to you," grumbled Laurie, who was, however, secretly much +pleased. + +"It's going to be next Saturday afternoon and evening, and this is +Tuesday, and so there isn't much time. We were afraid to make it any +later because the weather might get too cold. Besides, the team needs +the money right off. I looked in an almanac and it said that next +Saturday would be fair and warm, so that's all right." + +"But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" asked Polly. "I +know ours does. When we had our high-school picnic, the almanac said +'showers' and it was a perfectly gorgeous day. I carried my mackintosh +around all day and it was a perfect nuisance. Don't you remember, Mae?" + +"Well, you've got to believe in something," declared Ned. "Anyway, we're +going to have it at Bob Starling's, and if it's too cold outdoors, we'll +move inside." + +"You mean at Uncle Peter's?" exclaimed Polly. + +"Yes. We thought of having it at school first, but Mr. Hillman didn't +like it much; and besides, the fellows would be inside without having to +pay to get there! You see, it's going to cost every one a quarter just +to get in." + +"And how much to get out?" asked Mae, innocently. + +Ned grinned. "As much as we can get away from them. There'll be twelve +booths to sell things in--" + +"What sort of things?" Polly inquired. + +"All sorts. Eats and drinks and everything. We're getting the +storekeepers to donate things. So far they've just given us things that +they haven't been able to sell, a pile of junk; but we're going to stop +that. Biddle, the hardware man, gave us a dozen cheap pocket-knives, but +he's got to come across again. We've been to only eight of them so far, +but we haven't done so worse. Guess we've got enough truck for one booth +already. And then there'll be one of them for a rummage sale. We're +going to get each of the fellows to give us something for that, and I'll +bet we'll have a fine lot of truck. Each booth will represent a college +and be decorated in the proper colors: Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and so +on. And--and now it's your turn, Laurie." + +"Yes, I notice that I always have to do the dirty work," said the other. +He hugged his knees tighter, rolled over on his back for inspiration, +and, when he again faced his audience on the bench, smiled his nicest. +"Here's where you girls come in," he announced. "We want you two to take +two of the booths and get a girl for each of the others. Want to?" + +"Oh, it would be darling!" cried Polly. + +"I'd love to!" said Mae. + +"Only--" + +"Only--" + +"Only what!" asked Ned, as the girls viewed each other doubtfully. + +"I'm not sure Mother would let me," sighed Polly. "Do you think she +would, Mae?" + +"I don't believe so. And I don't believe Mama would let me. She--she's +awfully particular that way." + +"Gee!" said Ned, in disappointed tones, "I don't see why not! It isn't +as if--" + +"Of course it isn't," agreed Laurie. "Besides, your mothers would be +there too!" + +"Would they?" asked Mae, uncertainly. + +"Of course! Every one's coming! What harm would there be in it? You can +do things for--for charity that you can't do any other time! All you'd +have to do would be to just stand behind the booth and sell things. It +won't be hard. Everything will have the price marked on it and--" + +"You won't need to go by the prices always, though," interpolated Ned. +"I mean, if you can get more than the thing is marked, you'd better do +it! And then there's the--the costumes, Laurie." + +"Oh, yes, I forgot. We'd like each girl to sort of wear something that +would sort of match the college she represented--sort of," he explained +apologetically. "If you had the Yale booth, you could wear a dark-blue +waist, and so on. Do you think that would be possible?" + +Polly giggled. "We might ask Stella Hatch to take the Harvard booth, +Mae. With her hair, she wouldn't have to dress much!" + +"And you and Polly could take your first pick," observed Laurie, +craftily. "You'd look swell as--as Dartmouth, Mae!" + +"In _green_! My gracious, Ned! No, thank you! But Polly ought to be +Yale. She looks lovely in blue. I think I'd like to be Cornell. My +brother Harry's in Cornell." + +"All right," agreed Ned. "I wish you'd ask your mothers soon, will you? +Do try, because we've just got to get girls for the booths. You'd have +lots of fun, too. The Banjo and Mandolin Club is going to play for +dancing for an hour at five and nine, and there'll be an entertainment, +too." + +"What sort?" asked Polly. + +"We don't know yet. Some of the gymnastic team will do stunts, I think, +for one thing, and there'll be singing and maybe Laurie will do some +rope-swinging--" + +"I told you a dozen times I wouldn't! Besides, I haven't any rope." + +"We can find one, probably," replied his brother, untroubled. "We +haven't settled about the entertainment yet. And there are two or three +other things we haven't got to. Starling's going to have his garden all +fixed up, and he's going to cover the old arbor with branches and hang +Chinese lanterns in it and have little tables and chairs there for folks +to sit down and eat ice-cream and cake. + +"And that reminds me, Polly. Do you suppose that Miss Comfort would make +some cakes for us?" + +"Why, yes, Nid, but--but you'd have to _buy_ them. I don't think you +ought to expect her to _donate_ them." + +"We meant to buy them, of course, Polly. And we wondered if your mother +would make some of those dandy cream-puffs." + +"I'm sure she will. How many would you want?" + +"I don't know. You see, there's no way of telling how many will come. +There are three thousand people in Orstead, but that doesn't mean much, +does it? The 'Messenger' editor's agreed to put in an advertisement for +us for nothing, and there'll be notices all around town in the windows: +we got the man who prints the school monthly to do them for just the +cost of the paper. So folks ought to come, shouldn't you think?" + +"Oh, I'm sure they will!" agreed Polly, and Mae echoed her. "But it'll +be dreadfully hard to know how much cake and ice-cream and refreshments +to order, won't it?" + +"Fierce," agreed Ned. "I suppose the best way will be to reckon on, say, +three hundred and order that much stuff. Only, how do you tell how much +three hundred will eat?" + +"Why, you can't! Besides, Nid, three hundred people would only bring in +seventy-five dollars!" + +"In admissions, yes; but we've got to make them buy things when we get +them in there. If every one spent a dollar inside--" + +"But lots of them won't. Do you think they will, Mae?" + +Mae shook her head. "No, I don't. Lots and lots will just come out of +curiosity and won't spend a cent. I know, boys, because that's the way +they act at the fairs here." + +Ned kicked at the turf gloomily. "Gee, that's fierce!" he muttered. + +"Well, we'd ought to get more than three hundred folks," said Laurie. +"Remember, it's to be afternoon and evening too. I'll bet there'll be +nearer six hundred than three." + +Ned brightened. "That's so. And six hundred, even if they only averaged +fifty cents apiece, would be three hundred dollars. And I guess if we +can make three hundred, we can dig up the other fifty! Well, we've got +to get busy, Laurie. I got them to give me a cut from practice this +afternoon and I'll have to make the most of my time," he explained to +the girls. + +"Oh! And did they let you off, too, Nod?" asked Polly. + +"No, we're through with baseball," Laurie answered. "No more till +spring. I'm just fairly broken-hearted!" + +"When will you know about helping us, Polly?" Ned asked. + +[Illustration: "But don't you think almanacs make mistakes sometimes?" +asked Polly] + +"I'll ask Mother right away; and you'll ask, too, won't you, Mae? Can +you stop in this evening? I do hope it'll be all right!" + +"So do we!" said Ned and Laurie, in a breath. "Rather!" + +And the Committee on Arrangements hurried away. + +That night the committee met again in Dan Whipple's room in West Hall +and satisfactory progress was reported all along the line. Ned read a +list of donations from the town merchants, and announced that twelve +young ladies from the high school would be on hand, appropriately +attired, to take charge of the booths. Lew Cooper showed proofs of the +poster that was to be displayed in windows and tacked on posts and +fences, and of the four-inch, double-column advertisement to appear in +the "Messenger." Dan reported that Mr. Wells, the physical director, had +promised to see that the best six members of the gymnastic team should +exhibit afternoon and evening. + +"That means, though," he said, "that we'll have to have some kind of a +platform. Better make a note of that, Lew." + +"Platforms cost money," answered Lew, dubiously. "Maybe we can +borrow--I'll tell you what! There's one stored over in the field-house, +one they use to set the dressing-tent on. It's in two +pieces,--sections,--but I guess it's big enough. We'll see if we can't +get the use of it." + +"Good! Better ask Mr. Wells, Say, Hal, did you see Norris?" + +Hal Pringle was Dan's room-mate, and, while he was usually present at +the meetings, he was careful to keep himself in the background unless +called on for advice. Now he looked up from his book and nodded. "Yes, +it 'a all right. They'll play for an hour in the afternoon and an hour +at night. I had to promise them eats, though." + +"Of course. Much obliged. Speaking of eats, fellows, what's been done +about the refreshments?" + +"Nothing yet," answered Ned. "I wanted to talk that over. How many +sandwiches and how much salad will we want? And how many gallons of +ice-cream and--" + +"Whoa!" begged Dan. "Blessed if I know! How the dickens are we going to +know how much food will be needed? What's the rule about it? Or isn't +there any?" + +"Depends on how many will attend the show," said Lew. "Find that out--" + +"How're we going to find it out, you chump? How many do you suppose we +can count on, Ned?" + +"Maybe six hundred," was the answer. "But if it should rain--" + +"There you are! If it rained, we mightn't get two hundred! I'll say +that's a problem. We'd be in a fine fix if we found ourselves with two +or three freezers of ice-cream on our hands and a lot of other truck. +Look here, Tabby might know. Suppose you ask her, Ned. We've got to have +enough and not too much." + +"It'll be all right about the ice-cream," said Laurie. "The man said we +could return what we didn't open if we got it back that night so he +could pack it over. But the other things--" + +"You talk to Tabby in the morning," repeated Dan. "She'll know if any +one does. Now what else? What about the entertainment part of it, Mr. +Chairman of the Committee on Arrangements? What have you got in mind +besides the gymnastics?" + +"We thought we might find some one who could sing or dance. But we don't +know many of the fellows." + +"Bully! There's Cheesman, Lew. He's a corker. And Kewpie isn't so bad. +He sings a funny song mighty well." + +"He couldn't sing it in the afternoon, though, Dan: he'd be at the +field." + +"That's so! still, the game ought to be finished by four. We wouldn't +have the entertainment part until late, would we?" + +"About four, I thought," said Ned, "but Kewpie could come last. I'll put +him down, anyway." + +"Anything else besides songs?" asked Dan. + +"Yes, only-" Ned dropped his voice and glanced at Pringle--"only it's +got to be kept a secret to make good." + +"Oh, Hal's all right. He's a sort of ex-officio member of the committee. +Shoot, Ned!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII--NED GETS INTO THE GAME + + +Four hectic days followed. To Laurie, since Ned was held for two hours +each afternoon at the football field, fell most of the duties of the +Committee on Arrangements, and he was a very busy youth. He badgered +shopkeepers into parting with goods to be sold at the booths, helped Bob +Starling trim up the old arbor in the garden of the Coventry place, made +frequent trips to the Or stead caterer's, engaged eight cakes from Miss +Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from the Widow Deane, spent two +hours Wednesday helping Lew and Hal Pringle distribute posters +throughout the village, and attended to a hundred other matters +between-times. Of course, Ned aided when he could, and was helpful with +advice and unfailing in suggestions; but recitations and football +practice didn't leave him much time, even though he conscientiously +arose a full hour earlier every morning that week, and skimped studying +so much that he got in trouble with three instructors in one day! + +Miss Tabitha had proved as helpful as Dan Whipple had predicted. She had +shaken her head at the idea of entertaining six hundred at the fete. +"You mustn't count on more than half that many," she said. "I dare say +all the boys will go, and they'll make ninety. Then, if you get two +hundred of the townsfolk, you'll be doing very nicely. Don't decide how +much salad or how many sandwiches you want until Saturday morning. So +much will depend on the weather. Even if you hold the affair indoors, +lots of folks won't come if it rains. You say you've ordered eight cakes +from Martha Comfort and twelve dozen cream-puffs from Mrs. Deane?" + +"Yes'm," said Ned. "We wanted Mrs. Deane to make more, but she didn't +think she could." + +"Well, that's a hundred and fourty-four cream-puffs, and--let me +see--one of Miss Comfort's cakes will cut into sixteen pieces, and eight +times sixteen--" + +"A hundred and twenty-eight, ma'am." + +"Well, and a hundred and twenty-eight and a hundred and forty-four--" + +"Two hundred and seventy-two." + +"You're real quick at figures, aren't you? Seems as if, though, counting +on three hundred, you'd be a little short. I'll have Aunt Persis make +one of her marble-cakes. That'll help out, I guess." + +"Yes'm; thanks awfully," answered Ned. + +"Who is going to serve the refreshments?" + +"Why--why--" Ned's face fell. "I guess we hadn't thought of that!" + +"Well, it makes a heap of difference, because you can make a quart of +ice-cream serve ten people or twenty, just as you've a mind to. I +usually count on sixteen. Same way with a loaf of cake, and same way +with salad. It's awfully easy to waste salad when you're serving it. +Now, if you'd like me to, Ned, I'll attend to serving everything for +you. You just have the things set down there and I'll look after them." + +"Oh, Miss Hillman, if you would! Gee, that would be great! It--it'll be +a lot of trouble, though, ma'am." + +"Well, I guess it won't be the first trouble I've seen," replied Miss +Tabitha, dryly; "nor it won't be the last!" + +Thursday afternoon Laurie hurried over to the Coventry place as soon as +a two-o'clock recitation was done. Bob was awaiting him at the gate, and +conducted him around to the back of the big square house. Ned stared in +surprise. The tangle of trees and vines and shrubbery had been trimmed +to orderly neatness, the long, unkempt grass had been shorn to a yellow, +but respectable, turf, and the old arbor showed new strips where Thomas, +the Starlings' man, had been at work on the decrepit frame. Near at hand +lay piles of cedar and hemlock branches. + +"Dad got a couple of the men to cut those down near the tunnel and haul +them up here." Bob explained. "Thomas is going to help us put them up. +He made a peachy job of the garden, didn't he?" + +"You bet!" responded Laurie, heartily. "I wouldn't have known the place! +I say, Bob, this arbor's longer than I thought it was." + +"Forty feet, about. Why?" + +"I only ordered six tables and a dozen chairs from the caterer," +answered Laurie, dubiously. "Guess they aren't enough; but he's charging +twenty-five cents apiece for them--" + +"Twenty-five cents for a table? Isn't that dirt-cheap?" + +"We're only renting them, you idiot!" + +"Oh, I see. Well, six is enough, I guess; you don't want to crowd them. +Now let's get busy with the green stuff. I'll yell down cellar for +Thomas. There's a ball of twine, and I've got two hammers and a lot of +tacks on the side porch. You take your coat off and I'll--" + +"We'll have to have a step-ladder, Bob!" + +"There's a short ladder right beside you. Be right back." + +Laurie sat down on a wheelbarrow, after removing his coat and folding +back the sleeves of his shirt, and looked around him. The garden was +fairly large--larger in appearance since the clutter of shrubbery along +the sides had been cleared away. Along the School Park edge ran a tall +hedge of lilac bushes. At the back was the high board fence, painted +dark brown, that separated the garden from the Widow Deane's humble +property. On the other side was a rusty ornamental iron fence, mostly +hidden by vines. Broad walks, in spite of Thomas's efforts rather +overrun with weeds, surrounded the central plot of ancient turf, and +another ran straight down the middle of the garden, connecting with the +arbor. Wires were to be strung from the trees and across to the arbor, +and Chinese lanterns hung thereon. Laurie, half closing his eyes, sought +to visualize the place as it would appear on Saturday. He did want the +affair to be a success, both financial and artistic, both on account of +the school and--well, for the honor of the Turners! While he was musing, +two things happened simultaneously: Bob and Thomas appeared from the +house, and a familiar voice came to him from the opposite direction. + +"Nod!" called the voice. "Nod, will you please come here a moment?" + +Laurie's eyes sought the board fence. Over the top of it appeared the +head and shoulders of Polly. He left the wheelbarrow and hurried through +the arbor and down the walk beyond. Polly's face indicated distress, +whether mental or physical Laurie couldn't determine. But Polly's first +words explained. + +"I can't stay here l-long," she said. "I--I'm just hanging by my elbows. +I cl-climbed up on a board, and it's fallen down!" + +"I'll get you a ladder!" cried Laurie, gallantly. + +"N-no, never mind. I'm going to drop in a s-second. I just want to ask +you what Brown's color is. Nettie Blanchard is going to be Brown and--" + +"Why, brown, of course!" + +"Oh!" There was the sound of desperate scraping against the farther side +of the fence, and Polly's countenance became fairly convulsed with the +effort of holding herself in sight. "Oh! She said it was pur-pur--" + +Polly disappeared. There was a thud from the next yard. + +"Purple!" The word floated across to him, muffled but triumphant. + +"Are you hurt, Polly?" he called anxiously. + +"Not a bit," was the rueful response, "but I'm afraid the day-lilies +are!" Then she laughed merrily. "Thanks, Nod! I didn't think Nettie was +right. She loves purple, you see!" + +"Does she? Well, say, maybe she can be Williams. We weren't going to +have Williams, but its color is purple, I think, and if she is going to +be disappointed--" + +"She will look very well indeed in brown," came from the other side in +judicial tones; "and if we begin making changes, half the girls will +want to be something they aren't. Why, Pearl Fayles begged to be some +girls' college neither Mae nor I had ever heard of, just so she could +wear lavender and pale lemon!" + +"Well, all right," laughed Laurie. "She'd better stick to Brown--and +brown! Good-by, Polly. I'll drop in after a while and find out how +things are getting on." + +He turned to find Bob viewing him quizzically from the end of the arbor, +swinging a hammer in each hand. "Of course it's all right, I dare say," +he announced, "but I _thought_ you came here to fix up the arbor. +Instead of that I find you talking to girls over the fence!" + +"There's only one girl," replied Laurie, with dignity, "and we were +talking business." + +"Oh, of course! Sorry I interrupted." + +"You needn't be, and you didn't. Quit grinning like a simpleton and give +me a hammer!" + +"Right-o! Come on, Thomas! It's quite all right now!" + +An hour later their task was done, and well done, and they viewed it +with approval. To be honest, the major part of the work had been +performed by the faithful Thomas, although it is not to be denied that +both Laurie and Bob toiled conscientiously. Before they were through +approving the result from various angles, Bob's father joined them. Mr. +Starling was an older edition of Bob--a tall, straight, lean-visaged man +of forty-two or -three, with the complexion of one who had lived an +outdoor life. He had a deep, pleasant voice and a quiet manner not fully +in accord with a pair of keen eyes and a firm mouth. + +"I'd call that a good piece of work, boys," he said, as he joined them. +"And right up to specifications, too. Those paper lanterns come yet, +Bob?" + +"No, sir; I haven't seen them." + +"Lanterns, Mr. Starling?" asked Laurie. "Do you mean Chinese lanterns? +We've ordered a lot from the caterer, sir." + +"Tell him you won't need them, then. I've got a hundred coming up from +the city, Turner. They ought to be here, too. Thomas, call up the +express company and ask about them." + +"That's very kind, sir," said Laurie, "but you needn't have done it. +You--you're doing _everything_!" + +"Nonsense! Bob and I want to do our part, of course. Well, this +wilderness certainly looks different, doesn't it? That reminds me, Bob; +the agent writes me that we may 'make such improvements to the property +as we desire.' So, as I consider the absence of that arbor an +improvement, I guess you can pull it down any time you like. I'm going +to have a cup of tea, Turner. Will you join me? I believe there will be +cakes, too." + +Laurie found Ned in rather a low frame of mind when he got back to +Number 16 a half-hour before supper-time. Ned was hunched over a Latin +book and each hand held a firm grip on his hair. At Laurie's arrival he +merely grunted. + +"Where does it pain you most?" asked Laurie, solicitously, subsiding +into a chair with a weary sigh. Ned's mood was far from flippant. He +rewarded the other with a scowl, and bent his gaze on the book again. +"Want to hear the latest news from the front?" persisted Laurie. + +"No, I don't!" his brother growled. "I've had all the news I can stand. +Smug says that if I don't get this rotten stuff by nine to-night, and +make a perfect showing to-morrow, he will can me!" + +"Mr. Cornish said that?" gasped Laurie. "What do you know about that? +Why, I thought he was a gentleman!" + +"He's a--a brute! I can't learn the old stuff! And I have a hunch that +Mulford means to give me a try in the Loring game Saturday. And if I +don't get this, Cornish will fix it so I can't play. He as good as said +so." + +"Didn't you tell him you'd been busy with the fete and everything?" + +"Of course I did. Much he cared! Just made a rotten pun. Said I'd better +keep my own fate in mind. Puns are fearfully low and vulgar!" + +"Aren't they? How much of that have you got?" + +"Six pages. I--I've sort of neglected it the last two days. Some fellows +can fake through, but I don't have any luck. He's always picking on me." + +Laurie whistled expressively. "Six pages! Well, never say die, partner. +We'll get down to supper early, and that'll give us two hours before +nine." + +"Us?" questioned Ned, hopefully. + +"Sure. I'll give you a hand. As the well-known proverb so wisely +remarks, two heads are the shortest way home." + +Ned grinned, and stopped tormenting his hair. "Honest? That's mighty +decent, Laurie. I'll do as much for you some day." + +"Hope you won't have to. Wash your dirty face and let's beat it!" + +At half-past nine a more cheerful and much relieved Ned returned from +the hall master's study. "All right," he announced to an anxious Laurie. +"He was rather decent, too. Said he guessed that, in view of the +manifold affairs engaging my attention just now,--you know the crazy way +he talks,--he wouldn't demand too much from me. Reckon he means to let +me down easy to-morrow, eh?" + +"Maybe, partner, and maybe not. Take my advice and, in the words of the +Scouts, be prepared!" + +Friday was a hectic day for Laurie and all others concerned with the +fete. Difficulties that had remained in ambush all the week sprang out +and confronted them at the last moment. Half a dozen things had been +forgotten, and every member of the committee sought to exonerate +himself. Tempers were short and the meeting in Dan Whipple's room at +nine o'clock was far from harmonious. All went to bed that night firmly +convinced that the affair was doomed to be a flat failure. And, to add +to that conviction, the night sky was overcast and an unsympathetic +easterly wind was blowing. Ned, conscious of having imposed too many +duties on Laurie, was grouchy and silent; and Laurie, convinced that he +had been made a "goat" of, and that Ned was secretly blaming him for +mistakes and omissions that were no fault of his, retired in high +dudgeon. + +And yet, the morning dawned fair and warm, with an almost cloudless blue +sky over the world, and life looked very different indeed. Ned arose +whistling, and Laurie somehow knew that everything would be all right. +Fortunately, they had but two recitations on Saturday, and in +consequence there remained to them three whole hours before dinner to +devote to the affairs of the entertainment. They were busy hours, you +may be sure. If Ned hurried downtown once, he hurried there half a dozen +times; while Laurie, seated beside the driver of a rickety +express-wagon, rounded up all kinds of things, from the platform at the +field-house to the cakes at Miss Comfort's. Dinner brought a respite; +but as soon as it was over, Laurie was back on the job, while Ned joined +the football-players. + +Of course, what the Hillman's School football team should have done that +afternoon was to score a decisive victory over the visiting eleven. What +it did do was to get thoroughly worsted. Loring was something of a +surprise, with a heavier line and a faster bunch of backs than Hillman's +had expected. And Loring knew a lot of football, and proved the fact +early in the game. At half-past two, by which time the second period was +half over, the result was a foregone conclusion. Loring had scored two +touch-downs and as many goals therefrom, and the Blue had never once +threatened the adversary's last white line. Gains through the opponent +were infrequent and short, even Pope, who could generally be depended on +to tear off a few yards when the worst came to the worst, failing +dismally. + +In mid-field, Mason and Slavin made some stirring advances around the +Loring wings, and there were several successful forward passes to the +home team's credit; but, once past Loring's thirty-yard line, Hillman's +seemed powerless. The third quarter went scoreless, and in the fourth, +realizing doubtless that defeat was certain, Coach Mulford used his +substitutes lavishly. Ned made his first appearance on the big team in +that period, taking Mason's place for some eight of the fifteen minutes. +He did neither better nor worse than the other second- and third-string +fellows, perhaps--although, when Pope was taken out and Deering +substituted at full-back, he did his share of the punting and performed +very creditably. But that fourth period gave Loring an opportunity to +add to her score, and she seized it. Even with several substitutes in +her own line-up, she was still far better than Hillman's, and a goal +from the field and, in the last few moments of the game, a third +touch-down, resulted. + +The Blue fought desperately and gamely with her back to the wall, in an +effort to stave off that last score; but eventually Holmes, who had +taken Kewpie's place at center, weakened, and the Loring back piled +through. The final score was 23 to 0, and what two hours before had been +looked on as a victory or, at the worst, a tie, had become a cataclysm! +Humiliated, if not disgraced, the home-team players trailed to the +field-house with hanging heads, averting their eyes from the sight of +Loring's triumphal march around the gridiron. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV--THE FETE + + +Behold Fairyland! + +Well, at least an excellent imitation of what Fairyland must look like. +Overhead, a clear, star-sprinkled sky; below, scores of gaily-hued +lanterns shedding their soft glow over a charming scene. Through the +side gate, please, on School Park. Twenty-five cents to the boy on duty +there, and you are inside, with the manifold attractions awaiting you. +On three sides of the transformed garden are the college booths, each +decked with bunting and flags of appropriate colors, and each presided +over by a patriotically attired young lady who will gladly, nay, +eagerly, sell you almost anything from a cake of soap ("Donated by the +Town Square Pharmacy, H. J. Congreve, Prop'r.") to a knitted sweater or +a gingham house-dress ("Compliments of The New York Store, High Class +Dry Goods"). Near at hand, Yale is represented by Miss Polly Deane, +capped and aproned in blue, her eyes sparkling and her voice sweetly +insistent: "Won't you buy something, please, sir? Post-cards, two for +five! These pictures are only fifty cents, all beautifully framed and +ready for hanging! Can I sell you something, ma'am?" + +Beyond, gay with orange and black, is the Princeton booth; and still +beyond, Dartmouth and Columbia and California; and then, a blur of +brilliant crimson through the leafage, Harvard. And so on all around the +garden, with merry voices sounding above the chatter of the throng that +moves here and there. Down the center of Fairyland runs a leafy tunnel +from within which blue and red and yellow and green rays twinkle. There, +under the hanging lanterns, little tables and chairs are dotted on the +gravel, and half a dozen aproned youths are busy bearing, not always +without mishap, plates of salad and rolls and dishes of ice-cream and +cake. Close to the back of the house is a platform illumined by a row of +electric lights, the one glaring spot in the area of soft radiance. + +"How's it going?" asked a heavily-built youth of a slimmer one who had +paused at the entrance to the arbor. + +"Hello, Kewpie! Oh, bully, so far. We took in eighty-four dollars this +afternoon, and we'll do at least twice as well to-night. They're still +coming. Have you seen Whipple anywhere?" + +"Yes, a minute ago, down at the Pennsylvania booth. She's a mighty +pretty girl, too, Nod. I bought a pocket-knife of her for a quarter, and +got stung; but I don't mind. I'm going back to get another pretty soon. +When do I have to sing again?" + +"You follow Wilson's clog-dance. We're switching you and Cheesman, +Kewpie. His stuff is corking, but it's pretty high-brow, and we thought +you'd better bring up the end and make the audience feel cheerful." + +"All right; but it won't feel very cheerful if those orchestra guys +don't do better than they did this afternoon. They were four or five +notes behind me once! Nid said you had a new stunt this +evening--something you left out this afternoon." + +"Yes; we couldn't work it in daylight very well. It ought to go fine +to-night, though." + +"What is it?" + +"You wait and see. I've got to find Whipple. Say, if you see Ned, tell +him I'll be at the platform in five minutes and want him to meet me +there. Everybody keeps getting lost here!" + +On the way past the arbor, Laurie ran into George Watson, returning +across lots balancing a couple of plates in one hand and holding a large +slab of cake in the other, from which he nibbled as he went. "Hello!" he +said, none too distinctly. "I've been looking for you." + +"Wanted to bring me refreshments, I suppose." + +George looked at the empty plates, laughed, and shook his head. "Not +exactly. I've been feeding Cornell. Somebody ought to take eats to those +girls, Nod; they're starving!" + +"All right; you do it." + +"What do you think I am? A millionaire? I bought Mae a salad and an +ice-cream, and I'm about broke. Lend me a half, will you? Thanks. Want +an ice-cream? I'll treat." + +"No, thanks. Have you seen Dan Whipple?" + +"Sure! He's over at the Pennsylvania booth, buying it out! Say, +everything's going great, isn't it? Couldn't have had a finer evening, +either, what? Well, see you later. I'm hungry!" And George continued his +way to the house, where Miss Tabitha, surrounded by willing and hungry +helpers, presided sternly, but most capably, over the refreshments. + +At eight o'clock the boy on duty at the entrance estimated the +attendance as close to two hundred, which, added to the eighty-six paid +admissions before supper, brought the total close to the first estimate +of three hundred. It is safe to say that every Hillman's boy attended +the fete either in the afternoon or evening, and that most of the +faculty came and brought Mrs. Faculty--when there was a Mrs. Faculty. +Doctor Hillman was spied by Laurie purchasing a particularly useless and +unlovely article in burnt wood from the auburn-haired Miss Hatch. Every +one seemed to be having a good time, and the only fly in the ointment of +the committee was the likelihood that the refreshments would be +exhausted far too soon. + +The Weather Man had kindly provided an evening of exceptional warmth, +with scarcely enough breeze to sway the paper lanterns that glowed from +end to end of the old garden, an evening so warm that ice-cream was more +in demand than sandwiches or salad; and fortunately so, since ice-cream +was the one article of refreshment that could be and was replenished. +If, said Ned, folks would stick to ice-cream and go light on the other +refreshments, they might get through. To which Laurie agreed, and Ned +hied him to the telephone and ordered another freezer sent up. + +At a few minutes after eight the Banjo and Mandolin Club took possession +of the chairs behind the platform and dashed into a military march. +Following that, six picked members of the Gymnastic Club did some very +clever work, and Cheesman, a tall and rather soulful-looking upper +middler, sang two ballads very well indeed, and then, as an encore, +quite took the joy out of life with "Suwanee River"! Little Miss +Comfort, present through the courtesy of the Committee on Arrangements, +sniffled quite audibly, but was heard to declare that "it was just too +sweet for anything!" A rather embarrassed junior attempted some card +tricks that didn't go very well, and then Wilson, garbed more or less in +the character of an Irish gentleman returning from Donnybrook Fair, and +swinging a shillaly, did some jig-dancing that was really clever and won +much applause. + +There was a brief unofficial intermission while three anxious committee +members made search for Kewpie Proudtree. He was presently discovered +consuming his fourth plate of ice-cream in the seclusion of the side +porch, and was haled away, protesting, to the platform. In spite of what +may seem an over-indulgence in refreshment, Kewpie was in excellent +voice and a jovial mood, and sang four rollicking songs in a manner that +captured his audience. In fact, long after Kewpie had vanished from the +public gaze and returned to his ice-cream, the audience still demanded +more. + +Its attention was eventually captured, however, by Dan Whipple, who +announced importantly that it gave him much pleasure to say that, at a +great expense, the committee had secured as an added attraction the +world-famed Signor Duodelli, who, with their kind permission, would +exhibit for their pleasure and astoundment his miraculous act known as +the Vanishing Man, as performed before the crowned heads of Europe, to +the bewilderment and applause of all beholders. "Ladies and gentlemen, +Signor Duodelli!" + +The Signor had a noticeable likeness to Lew Cooper, in spite of his +gorgeous mustache and flowing robe of red and purple cheese-cloth. Yet +it might not have been Lew, for his manner was extremely foreign and his +gestures and the few words he used in directing the arranging of his +"properties" were unmistakably Latin. The properties consisted of a +kitchen chair, a threefold screen covered with black baize, and a coil +of rope. There was also in evidence a short wand, but the Signor held +that in his hand, waving it around most eloquently. The audience laughed +and applauded and waited patiently until the chair had been placed +exactly to the Signor's liking, close to the back of the platform, and +the screen beside it. Previously several of the lights had been put out, +and those that remained threw their glare on the front of the stage, +leaving the back, while discernible, less in evidence. + +"Now," announced the Signor, narrowly escaping from falling off the +platform as he tripped over his robe, "I aska da some one coma up and +giva da help. Any one I aska. You, Signor, maybe, eh?" The magician +pointed his wand at Mr. Cornish, in the front of the clustered audience; +but the gentleman laughingly declined. The Signor seemed disappointed. +"No-o-o? You no geta da hurt. Some one else, eh?" He looked invitingly +around, and a small junior, urged by his companions, struggled to the +front. Unfortunately for his ambitions to pose in the lime-light, the +Signor's glance had moved to another quarter, and, ere the junior could +get his attention, a volunteer appeared from the semi-obscurity of the +kitchen porch. He was peculiarly attired, wearing a simple white garment +having a strong resemblance to the old-fashioned night-shirt, that +covered him completely from neck to ankles. He was bareheaded, revealing +the fact that his locks were red-brown in hue. + +"Ah!" exclaimed the Signor, delightedly. "You will helpa me, _si_? Right +thisa way, Signor. I thanka you!" + +"That's one of the Turner fellows," muttered a boy, while the small +junior and his companions called "Fake!" loudly. However, the +good-natured laughter of the audience drowned the accusation, and some +two hundred pairs of eyes watched amusedly and expectantly while, with +the assistance of two other volunteers, the youth in the white robe was +tied securely to the chair. + +"Maka him tight," directed the Signor, enthusiastically, waving his +wand. "Pulla da knot. Ha, thata da way! Good! Signors, I thanka you!" + +The two who had tied the victim to the chair retired from the platform. +The Signor seized the screen and opened it wide and turned it around and +closed it and turned it again. + +"You seea?" he demanded. "There is nothing that deceive! Now, then, I +placea da screen so!" He folded it around the boy and the chair, leaving +only the side away from the audience uncovered. He drew away the width +of the platform, and, "Music, ifa you please," he requested. The +orchestra, whose members had moved their chairs to one side, struck up a +merry tune, and the Signor, folding his arms, bent a rapt gaze on the +blank, impenetrable blackness of the screen. A brief moment passed. Then +the Signor bade the music cease, took a step forward, and pointed to the +screen. + +"Away!" he cried, and swung his arm in a half-circle, his body following +with a weird flaring of his brilliant robes until, with outstretched +finger, he faced the audience. "Ha! He come! Thisa way, Signor! Comea +quick!" + +As one man the audience turned and followed the pointing finger. Through +the deserted arbor came a boy in a white garment. He pushed his way +through the throng and jumped to the stage. As he did so, the Signor +whisked aside the screen. There was the chair empty, and there was the +rope dangling from it, twisted and knotted. + +A moment of surprised silence gave place to hearty applause. +Theoretically it might have been possible for the boy in the chair to +vanish from behind the screen, reach the farther end of the garden, and +run back into sight; but actually, as the audience realized on second +thought, it couldn't possibly have been done in the few seconds, surely +not more than ten, that had elapsed between the placing of the screen +and the appearance of the boy behind them. And then, how had he got +himself free from the rope? An audience likes to be puzzled, and this +one surely was. The garden hummed with conjecture and discussion. There +were some there who could have explained the seeming phenomenon, but +they held their counsel. + +Meanwhile, on the platform the Signor was modestly bowing alternately to +the audience and to his subject, the latter apparently no worse for his +magic transposition. And the orchestra again broke into its interrupted +melody. The applause became insistent, but Signor Duodelli, perhaps +because his contract with the committee called for no further evidence +of his powers, only bowed and bowed and at last disappeared into the +obscurity of the shadows. Whereupon the Banjo and Mandolin Club moved +into the house, and presently the strains of a one-step summoned the +dancers to the big drawing-room. + +Laurie, unconsciously rubbing a wrist, smiled as he listened to the +comments of the dissolving audience. "Well, but there's no getting +around the fact that it was the same boy," declared a pompous little +gentleman to his companion. "Same hair and eyes and everything! Couldn't +be two boys as much alike, eh? Not possibly! Very clever!" + +Laurie chuckled as he made his way to Polly's booth. That young lady +looked a little tired, and, by the same token, so did the Yale booth! +Only a bare dozen framed pictures and a small number of post-cards +remained of her stock. "Don't you think I've done awfully well?" asked +Polly, a trifle pathetically. She seemed to need praise, and Laurie +supplied it. + +"Corking, Polly," he assured her. "I guess you've sold more than any of +the others, haven't you?" + +"N-no, I guess some of the others have done better, Nod; but I think +they had more attractive articles, don't you? Anyhow, I've taken in +twelve dollars and thirty cents since supper, and I made four dollars +and eighty-five cents this afternoon; only I must have dropped a dime +somewhere, for I'm ten cents short. Or perhaps someone didn't give me +the right amount." + +"Why, that's seventeen dollars!" exclaimed Laurie. "I didn't think you +had anywhere near seventeen dollars' worth of things here, Polly!" + +"Oh, I didn't! Not nearly! Why, if I'd sold things at the prices marked +on them, Nod, I wouldn't have had more than half as much! But lots of +folks _wanted_ to pay more, and I let them. Mr. Conklin, the jeweler, +bought a picture, one of the funny landscapes with the frames that +didn't fit at the corners, and he said it was ridiculous to sell it for +a quarter, and he gave me a dollar for it. Then he held the picture up +and just laughed and laughed at it! I guess he just wanted to spend his +money, don't you? You know, Ned said we were to get as much as we could +for things, so I usually added ten cents to the price that was marked on +them--sometimes more, if a person looked extravagant. One lady came back +and said she'd paid twenty-five cents for a picture and it was marked +fifteen on the back. I said I was sorry she was dissatisfied and I'd be +very glad to buy it back from her for twenty." + +Laurie laughed. "What did she say to that?" he asked. + +"She said if I wanted it bad enough to pay twenty cents for it she +guessed it was worth twenty-five, and went off and didn't come back." +Polly laughed and then sighed. "I'm awfully tired. Doesn't that music +sound lovely? Do you dance?" + +Laurie shook his head. "No; but, say, if you want to go in there, I'll +watch the booth for you." + +Polly hesitated. "It's funny you don't," she said. "Don't you like it?" + +It was Laurie's turn to hesitate. "No, not much. I never have danced. +It--it seems sort of silly." He looked at Polly doubtfully. Although he +wouldn't have acknowledged it, he was more than half sorry that dancing +was not included among his accomplishments. + +"It isn't silly at all," asserted Polly, almost indignantly. "You ought +to learn. Mae could teach you to one-step in no time at all!" + +"I guess that's about the way I'd do it," answered Laurie, sadly--"in no +time at all! Don't you--couldn't _you_ teach a fellow?" + +"I don't believe so. I never tried to teach any one. Besides, Mae dances +lots better than I do. She put the things she had left on Grace +Boswell's booth and went inside the minute the music started. She wanted +me to come, but I thought I shouldn't," added Polly, virtuously. + +"You go ahead now," urged Laurie. "I'll stay here till you come back. It +isn't fair for you girls to miss the dancing. Besides, I guess there +won't be much more sold now. Folks have begun to go, some of them, and +most of the others are inside." + +Polly looked toward the house. Through the big wide-open windows the +lilting music of a waltz floated out. The Banjo and Mandolin Club was +really doing very well to-night. Polly sighed once and looked wistful. +Then she shook her head. "Thanks, Nod," she said, "but I guess I'll stay +here. Some one _might_ come." + +"What do you care? You don't own 'em! Anyway, I guess I could sell a +post-card if I had to!" + +"You'd have trouble selling any of those pictures," laughed Polly. +"Aren't they dreadful? Where did they come from?" + +"Pretty fierce," Laurie agreed. "They came from the Metropolitan +Furniture Store. The man dug them out of a corner in the cellar. I guess +he'd had them for years! Anyway, there was enough dust on them to choke +you. He seemed awfully tickled when we agreed to take them and let him +alone!" + +"I should think he might have! We girls agreed to buy things from each +other, just to help, but the only things they bought from me were +post-cards!" Polly laughed as though at some thought; and Laurie, who +had elevated himself to an empty corner of the booth and was swinging +his feet against the blue draping in front, looked inquiringly. "I was +just thinking about the boys," explained Polly. + +"What about them? What boys do you mean?" Laurie asked coldly. + +"The high school boys. They're awfully peeved because we girls took part +in this, and not one of them has been here, I guess." + +"Cheeky beggars," grumbled Laurie. "Guess we can do without them, +though. Here comes Bob's father." + +Mr. Starling was bent on a most peculiar mission. Laurie and Polly +watched him stop at the next booth and engage in conversation. Then a +fat pocket-book was produced, a bill was tendered, and Mr. Starling +strolled on. At the Yale booth he stopped again. + +"Well, Turner," he greeted, "this affair looks like a huge success, +doesn't it? Why aren't you young folks inside there, dancing?" + +"I don't dance, sir," answered Laurie, somewhat to his chagrin in a most +apologetic tone. "And Polly thinks she ought to stand by the ship. This +is Polly Deane, Mr. Starling." + +Bob's father shook hands cordially across the depleted counter and +assured its proprietor that he was very glad indeed to make her +acquaintance. Then he added: "But you don't seem to have much left, Miss +Polly. Now, I'm a great hand at a bargain. I dare say that if you made +me a fair price for what there is here I'd jump at it. What do you say?" + +Polly apparently didn't know just what to say for a minute, and her gaze +sought counsel of Laurie. + +"If you ask me," laughed the latter, "I'd say fifty cents was a big +price for the lot!" + +"You're not in charge," said Mr. Starling, almost severely. "I'm sure +the young lady has better business ability. Suppose you name a price, +Miss Polly." + +"We-ell--" Polly did some mental arithmetic, and then, doubtfully: "A +dollar and a half, sir," she said. + +"Done!" replied Mr. Starling. He drew forth a two-dollar bill. "There +you are! Just leave the things where they are. I'll look after them +later. Now you youngsters go in and dance. What's this? Change? My dear +young lady, don't you know that change is never given at an affair of +this kind? I really couldn't think of taking it. It--it's a criminal +offense!" And Mr. Starling nodded and walked away. + +"By Jove, he's a brick!" exclaimed Laurie, warmly. "Look, he's doing the +same thing everywhere!" + +"I know," answered Polly, watching. "It's just dear of him, isn't it? +But, Nod, _what_ do you suppose he will do with these awful pictures?" + +"The same thing he will do with that truck he's buying now," was the +laughing reply. "He will probably put them in the furnace!" + +"Well," said Polly, after a moment, "I suppose we might as well go +inside, don't you? We can look on, anyway, and"--with a stifled +sigh--"I'd 'most as lief look on as dance." + +Laurie followed, for the second time in his life wishing that the +Terpsichorean art had been included in his education! + + + + +CHAPTER XV--NED HAS AN IDEA + + +"Three hundred and thirty-three dollars and eighty-five cents," said +Ned, in very satisfied tones. "We took in three hundred and sixty-three +five, but we had twenty-nine twenty to come out for expenses. Not so +bad, what?" + +"But something tells me," answered Laurie, mournfully, "that if all our +expenses were deducted we'd have less than that. You see," he explained +to Polly, "I lost the piece of paper that I set down the money I paid +out on, and I just had to guess what it all came to, because I'd never +had time to add it up." + +"I dare say you guessed enough," replied Ned, untroubled. + +"I dare say I didn't, then!" was the indignant response. "If I did, +where's all the money I had when I started? I've got a dollar and ninety +cents left, and I had over four dollars when you roped me in on the +thing! I'm more than two dollars shy, I tell you!" + +"Oh, well, it's gone for a worthy cause," laughed Ned. + +"Maybe," Laurie grumbled, "but I notice that none of yours has gone that +way. You always made me pay for everything!" + +"Well, I think you did it beautifully," said Polly. "I never suspected +you'd make so much!" + +They were in the little garden behind the shop. It was the second day +after the fete, and the bell in the Congregational church tower had just +struck two. There was a perceptible nip in the air to-day, and the +flowers in the border showed blackened leaves, while the nasturtiums +were frankly limp and lifeless. But here in the sunshine it was warm +enough, and Laurie, spurning the bench, was seated tailor fashion on the +yellowing turf. Polly had stated her absolute certitude that he would +catch cold, but Laurie derided the idea. + +"We're awfully much obliged to you girls," said Ned. "We wouldn't have +done nearly so well if you hadn't helped. I think the committee ought to +give you a--a vote of thanks or something." + +"Oh, we all loved it!" Polly assured him earnestly. "We had heaps of +fun. Why, I wouldn't have missed that disappearing trick for anything. I +was positively thrilled when Laurie came running up the garden!" + +The boys' laughter interrupted, and Polly looked puzzled. + +"That wasn't Laurie," explained Ned. "That was me." + +"But I was sure you were the one in the chair! And if you were in the +chair, how could you--" + +"I wasn't, though. That was Laurie." + +Polly sighed despairingly. "I'll never get so I can tell you apart," she +said; "unless I hear you talk, that is! I don't see yet how it was done. +Won't you please tell me?" + +"It was as easy as easy," replied Ned. "You see, the way I planned it +first--" + +"The way _who_ planned it?" inquired Laurie. + +"Well, the way _we_ planned it, then." + +"Hold on! Whose idea was it in the first place, partner?" + +"Oh, don't be so fussy! Anyway, you couldn't have done it without me!" + +"I never said I could. But you've got a lot of cheek to talk about the +way _you--_" + +Polly clapped her hands to her ears. "I'm not being told how it was +done, and I do want to know. Go on, Ned." + +"Well, it was done like this. You see, Laurie was tied to the chair, and +I was hiding out at the other end of the garden. Then Lew Cooper put the +screen around the chair." Polly nodded. "Then I started toward the +platform, and every one turned to look at me." Polly nodded again. +"Well, right behind the platform was the bulkhead door into the cellar. +When Cooper shouted to me to come on, two fellows who were on the stairs +waiting pushed the door open, grabbed Laurie, chair and all, and whisked +him down cellar. Then they put another chair, just like the first one, +behind the screen, and when Cooper pulled the screen away, there it was, +just as if Laurie had somehow untied himself and--and vanished! Of +course, if any one had been looking at the screen instead of at me just +then, he might have seen what was going on, although it was pretty dark +behind there and he mightn't have. Anyway, no one was, I guess. The +trick depended on the--the faint similarity between us. Lots of fellows +who knew us were on to it, but the folks from the village were puzzled +for fair!" + +"Indeed they were," agreed Polly. "They just couldn't understand it at +all!" + +"It would have been better," mused Laurie, "if we could have taken the +screen away and showed the empty chair before Ned came into sight; but +there didn't seem to be any way of doing that. We had to have the people +looking the other way, and we had to work quick. As it was, I was half +killed, for Wainwright and Plummer were in such a hurry to get the other +chair up there that they just dumped me on my back! And then they ran +upstairs through the kitchen to see the end of it, and I was kicking +around down there for five minutes!" + +"Well," said Ned, a few minutes later, "I'm not finding out what to do +with this." He opened one hand and exposed some bills and two ten-cent +pieces folded into a wad. "Your mother says she won't take it, +Polly--that she didn't understand we were going to pay her for the +cream-puffs. Gee, we wouldn't have thought of asking her to make them +for nothing!" + +Polly nodded sympathetically. "Mother says, though, that the boys bring +so much trade to her that it's only fair for her to help them." + +"That's poppy-cock!" said Laurie. "Seven dollars and twenty cents is a +lot of money. Look here; don't you think she ought to take it, Polly?" + +Polly was silent a moment. Then she nodded affirmatively. "Yes, I do," +she said frankly. "She really needs the money, Ned. I wouldn't tell any +one else, but we're just frightfully hard up, and I wouldn't be a bit +surprised if Mother had to give up here before very long." + +"Give up!" exclaimed Ned. "You mean--go away?" + +"Yes. You see, she doesn't make very much money in the store; nothing +like she used to before the war sent prices so high. And then, what with +taxes and water and light, and the interest on the mortgage, why, it +hardly pays. Just the same, if she says she won't take the money, Ned, +why, I guess she won't, and that's all there is to it. But she ought +to!" + +"Can't she charge more for things?" asked Laurie. "Everyone else does +nowadays. That bake-shop down on Hudson Street gets eight cents for +cream-puffs and eclairs, and you sell them for six." + +"I know; but Mama says six cents is enough and that the boys oughtn't to +have to pay any more. And lots of things she sells for hardly any more +than she used to before prices advanced. Why, I have to watch all the +time; and when bills come in for things, I have to compare them with +what we're getting for them, and lots of times I find that Mama's been +selling for less than what she's paid! She just won't be a profiteer, +she says!" + +"Gee! I hope you don't have to shut up," said Laurie. He looked around +the little garden. "It--it's such a jolly place! And the house and +everything. Gee, that would be a shame!" + +Polly sighed while she nodded. "It is nice," she agreed; "but there are +so many things that ought to be done! Uncle Peter never would do much +for us. He did promise to have the house painted, but he died about a +month after that, and so it was never done." + +"Suppose he up and died so's he wouldn't have to do it?" inquired +Laurie, suspiciously. + +Polly shook her head and looked a trifle shocked, until she caught the +smile in Ned's eyes. + +"It doesn't look as if it would cost much money to paint it," remarked +Ned, looking up at the rear of the little two-and-a-half-story building. +"It's not much more than a doll's house, anyway. How many rooms are +there, Polly?" + +"Three upstairs, and then a sort of attic room under the roof; and two +downstairs." + +"Uh-huh. I just wondered. It wouldn't be much of a trick to paint the +outside. Bet you I could do it in a couple of days." + +Laurie gasped. "A couple of days! You? How do you get like that? It +would take a real painter a week to do it!" + +"Maybe; but I'm not a real painter," answered Ned, grinning. He glanced +at the crumpled wad in his hand and held it tentatively toward Polly. +"Maybe you'd better take charge of this, Polly, until we decide what to +do with it." + +But Polly put her hands resolutely behind her, and shook her head with +decision. "No, Ned, I'd rather not. If Mama says she won't have it, she +won't, and you might just as well give it back to the--the fund." + +Somewhat to Laurie's surprise, Ned pocketed the money without further +protest. "All right," he said. "It's very kind of your mother. We +mustn't forget to see that her name's included in the list of those who +donated things, Laurie. This week's 'Messenger' is going to tell all +about it. Well, I've got to pull my freight. You coming, partner?" + +"Yes, I guess so," replied Laurie, without much enthusiasm. "I promised +Bob and George to get another fellow and play some tennis this +afternoon." + +"Gee! it must be great to have nothing to do but play," sighed his +brother. + +"Huh, any one would think, to hear you talk, that you were working," +replied Laurie, crushingly. "All you do is stand around and watch the +others." + +"Think so?" Ned smiled in a superior way. "You come down this afternoon +and see how much standing around I do. Joe Stevenson says I've got to +practise goals now. Isn't that the limit?" + +"I suppose it pains him to see you loafing," said Laurie. "Anyway, I +dare say it'll keep you out of mischief." + +Laurie led the way to the back fence, against which leaned a plank with +two pieces of wood nailed across it. This afforded a short cut to and +from school, and was an idea of Bob's. From the top of the fence they +dropped into the shrubbery and then made their way to the side gate. + +The arbor had not yet been denuded of its evergreen clothing, and there +were other evidences of the recent festival in the shape of crumpled +paper napkins lying on the ground. Thomas had taken down the lanterns +and was packing them away in their case by the kitchen porch, and the +boys called a greeting to him as they passed. + +"Bob still mean to make a tennis-court here?" asked Ned, as they went +through the gate. + +"Yes. He's going to tear down that arbor right away, he says. So far, +though, he hasn't found any one to do the work on the court. Every one +is busy. I don't believe he will get it done in time to use it this +fall." + +"Of course he won't. It's nearly November now. Say, you'd better take +this money and hand it over to Whipple. You'll see him before I do. And +tell him to put Mrs. Deane's name down with the other folks who +contributed, will you?" + +"All right; but I think it's a shame to let her stand for all those +cakes." + +"So do I; only--" + +"Only what?" + +"Maybe we can make it up to her another way. I've got an idea, Laurie." + +"I hope it's better than most of 'em. What is it?" + +And when Ned had explained it, Laurie considered a long moment and then +indorsed it enthusiastically. "That's corking!" he cried. "For once, +Ned, the old bean has worked! Only, when could we--" + +"Christmas vacation," said Ned. "We won't have much to do then. What do +you say?" + +"I say that, for the first time in my life, Neddie, I'm proud to +acknowledge you as my twin!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI--POLLY TELLS A SPOOK STORY + + +Assured of sufficient funds to complete its season without financial +embarrassment, the Hillman's football team seemed to take a new and +firmer grip on things. Practice went well that week, and the players +showed vim and snap. Perhaps the colder weather helped, too. The line-up +that faced the scrubs on Friday for a short scrimmage was, barring +accidents, that which would, four weeks later, start the game against +Hillman's old rival, Farview Academy. Farley and White were at the ends, +Captain Stevenson and Pringle were the tackles, Emerson and Corson were +the guards, and Kewpie Proudtree was at center. Frank Brattle at +quarter, Mason and Slavin for halves, and Pope at full-back composed the +rest of the team. There were some weak places, to be sure; but, on the +whole, Coach Mulford was fairly satisfied that he had the parts for a +capable machine. + +Ned was still playing on the scrub eleven, and doing rather well. As a +punter, at least, he deserved his position at left half, and it might be +that he would develop into a fair goal-kicker; for in the last four +days, under the tuition of the coach and full-back Pope, he had shown +excellent promise. Those morning lessons, now abandoned, had grounded +Ned well in the art of toeing the pigskin, and, whatever fame the future +might hold for him as punter or drop-kicker or place-kicker, much of the +credit would be Kewpie's. + +To-day, in the second ten minutes of the scrimmaging,--there was but +twenty minutes in all,--Thursby, playing quarter, and probably acting +under instructions, gave Ned his first chance to show what he could do +in the way of field goals. Unable to reach a point nearer than twenty +yards to the school team's goal, Thursby called for "kick formation, +Turner back," and Ned went up-field with his heart in his mouth. +Although the cross-bar was less than thirty yards from where he took his +stand and almost directly in front of him, it looked to Ned to be a +woeful distance away and the angle much more severe than it was. But he +didn't have much time for reflection, for Thursby called his signal +quickly, and the leather came back to him at a good pass, and the school +team was crashing through. + +Ned always thought that he closed his eyes when he swung his toe against +the rebounding ball and trusted to luck, but I doubt it, for the pigskin +described a perfect arc and went well and true over the bar, and if Ned +had had his eyes closed I don't believe the pigskin would have acted +that way at all. Most of the scrub team players thumped him on the back +and showed their delight in other ways, for they had not scored on the +school team for nearly a week; while, at a little distance, Coach +Mulford nodded his head almost imperceptibly. It was too bad Ned didn't +see that nod, for it would have pleased him far more than the buffets of +his team-mates. + +The next day Hillman's made a trip to Warring and played the Lansing +team to a standstill, returning with a 22-0 victory tucked under its +belt. Ned got into the game for a bare five minutes at the last, as did +half a dozen other substitutes; but he was not called on to kick any +goals, for which he was at once sorry and glad. To have had the eyes of +nearly a thousand persons on him would, he thought, have precluded any +possibility of success; but, on the other hand, had he succeeded--He +sighed for lost opportunities! + +The attendance that afternoon was a matter of great joy to Manager Dave +Murray, for Hillman's went home with a neat sum as its share of the +day's profits, a sum far larger than he had counted on--large enough, in +fact, to make up the difference between the net receipts from the fete +and the three hundred and fifty dollars aimed at. + +Hillman's good fortune held for another week. There were no accidents +during practice; every fellow in the line-up played for all that was in +him; and the scrubs took a licking every afternoon. Ned twice more +gained glory as a drop-kicker, although on a third occasion he failed +lamentably. Unfortunately, neither of his successes brought victory to +his team, since the opponents had on each occasion a safe lead in the +scoring. Every afternoon, following the scrimmage, Ned was presented by +the coach with a nice battle-scarred football, and instructed to go down +to the east goal and "put some over." Sometimes Hop Kendrick or Ben +Thursby went with him to hold the ball while he tried placement-kicks, +and always an unhappy substitute was delegated to retrieve the pigskin +for him; but the coach let him pretty much alone, and Pope looked on +only occasionally and was surprisingly sparing of comment or advice. And +yet, Ned improved, rather to his surprise, since he felt himself +neglected and, as he said to Laurie, didn't see how they expected a +fellow to learn goal-kicking if they didn't show him a little! But, +although he didn't realize it, Ned had reached a point in his +development where he was best left to his own devices, and Coach Mulford +knew it and forbore to risk confusing him with unnecessary instruction. +So Ned pegged away doggedly, and got results, as he considered, in spite +of the coach! + +Against the Queens Preparatory Institute, which journeyed up from the +city on Saturday, the Blue was able to emerge from four grueling +fifteen-minute periods with the score 6-6, from the Blue's standpoint a +very satisfactory showing, for Q. P. I. was a much-heralded team and had +downed stronger elevens than Hillman's. So November began its second +week, and cloudy days and not infrequently rainy ones took the place of +the sunny weather of October. + +Laurie would have been somewhat at a loss for a way in which to spend +his afternoons at that time, had it not been for Bob Starling's +overmastering desire to build a tennis-court in the garden of the +Coventry place. The weather was far too cold for tennis, although now +and then he and Bob played George and Lee Murdock, and the wrecking of +the old grape-arbor, preparatory to digging up the sod, proved a welcome +diversion. Sometimes Thomas took a hand; but Thomas had plenty to do +indoors, and the work was accomplished almost wholly by Bob and Laurie, +with the occasional moral support of George or Lee. + +Usually an hour's labor with hammer or crowbar ended with an adjournment +to the Widow Deane's, by way of the back fence, for refreshments. +Sometimes it was warm enough to foregather in the little garden behind +the shop and, armed with cream-puffs or tarts, spend a jolly half-hour +in the society of Polly and Mae. At such times Mrs. Deane, hearing the +shouts and laughter, came to the back door and smiled in sympathy. + +One glorious afternoon of mingled sunlight and frost there was an +excursion afoot out into the country in search of nuts. Polly and Mae +and Laurie and George and Bob and Lee formed the party. They carried two +baskets, one of which George wore on his head most of the way, to the +wonderment of the infrequent passers. Mae knew, or thought she knew, +where there were chestnut trees, and led the way for three miles to what +is called Two Jug Ridge. The chestnut trees, however, were, according to +Laurie, away for the afternoon. They found some hickory nuts, not quite +ready to leave their husks, and a few beech-nuts, and after gathering +those they sat on a broad, flat boulder and looked down on Orstead and +Little Windsor and some twelve miles of the Hudson River, and talked a +good deal of nonsense--all except Lee, who went to sleep with his cap +pulled over his eyes, and had a cold in his head for days after. George +decided that when he was through college and was married, he would come +back there and build a bungalow just where they were seated. + +"This will do for the front door-step," he expounded, "and over there +will be a closed-in porch with an open fireplace and a Gloucester +hammock." + +"That all you're going to have?" asked Bob. "No kitchen?" + +"Oh, there'll be a kitchen, all right, and a dining-room--no, I guess +we'll eat on the porch. Wouldn't it be a dandy place, though? Look at +the view!" + +"Fine," said Laurie, without much enthusiasm, remembering the last +uphill mile. "Don't mind if I don't come to see you often, though, do +you?" + +"Not a bit! Nobody asked you, anyway." + +"You could live on nuts," murmured Polly, "and could have shaggy-barks +for breakfast and beech-nuts for dinner and--" + +"Grape-nuts for supper," said Laurie, coming to the rescue. + +"And you could call the place the Squirrel-Cage," suggested Bob. + +And that reminded Mae of a story her father had told of a man who had +lived in the woods farther down the river some years before, and who ate +nothing but nuts and things he found in the forest. "He lived all alone +in a little cabin he'd built, and folks said he was a deserter from the +army, and--" + +"What army?" George asked. + +"The Northern Army, of course." + +"I thought you might mean the Salvation Army. Then this was quite awhile +ago, wasn't it?" + +"Of course, stupid! Years and years ago. And finally, when he died, +folks found that he wasn't a deserter at all, but a general or a major +or something, and they found a prize that the government had given him, +some sort of a medal for bravery in battle. Wasn't that sad?" + +"Well," replied Laurie, doubtfully, "I suppose it was. I suppose the +government would have shown better judgment if they'd given him a bag of +nuts. Of course, he couldn't eat that medal!" + +"You're horrid! Anyway, it just shows that you mustn't judge folks +by--by outward appearances, doesn't it?" + +"Rather! I've always said that, too. Take George, for example. Just to +look at him, you'd never think he had any sense at all; but at times--" + +"Lay off of George," interrupted that young gentleman, threateningly. +"If folks judged you by the way you talk, you'd be inside a nice high +wall!" + +Why the talk should have drifted from there to the subject of ghosts and +uncanny happenings isn't apparent, but it did. In the midst of it, Lee +gave a tremendous snore that scared both the girls horribly, and sat up +suddenly, blinking. "Hello!" he muttered. Then he yawned and grinned +foolishly. "Guess I must have dropped off," he said apologetically. + +"You didn't," said George. "If you had you'd have waked up quicker! Cut +out the chatter; Polly's telling a spook yarn." + +Lee gathered up a handful of beech-nuts and was silent except for the +sound he made in cracking the shells. + +"It isn't much of a story," disclaimed Polly, "but it--it _was_ funny. +It began just after Mama and I came here. I mean, that was the first +time. One night, after we had gone to bed, Mama called me. 'I think +there's some one downstairs, Polly,' she whispered. We both listened, +and, sure enough, we could hear a sort of tapping sound. It wasn't like +footsteps, exactly; more--more hollow, as if it came from a long way +off. But it sounded right underneath. We listened a minute or two, and +then it stopped and didn't begin again; and presently we lighted a +candle and went downstairs, and nobody was there and everything was +quite all right. So we thought that perhaps what we'd heard was some one +walking along the street. + +"We didn't hear it again for nearly two weeks, and then it lasted +longer--maybe two minutes. It got louder; and stopped, and began again, +and died away; and we sat there and listened, and I thought of ghosts +and everything except robbers, because it didn't sound like any one in +the store. It was more as if it was some one in the cellar." + +"Well, maybe it was," suggested Laurie, when Polly paused. + +"That's what we thought, Nod, until we went to see. Then we remembered +that there wasn't any cellar!" + +"Oh!" said Laurie. + +"What happened then?" asked Lee, flicking a shell at George. + +"It kept on happening every little while for two years. We got so we +didn't think any more about it. Mr. Farmer, the lawyer, said what we +heard was probably a rat. But I know very well it wasn't that. It was +too regular. It was always just the same each time. At first we could +just hear it a little, and then it grew louder and louder, and stopped. +And then it began again, loud, and just sort of--of trailed off till you +couldn't hear it at all. I suppose we never would have heard it if it +hadn't been for Mama not sleeping very well, because it always came +after midnight, usually about half-past twelve. After a while I didn't +hear it at all, because Mama stopped waking me up." + +"Spooks," declared George, with unction. "The house is haunted, Polly." + +"Wish I lived there," said Bob eagerly. "I'm crazy about ghosts. They +told me that old Coven--I mean your uncle, Polly--haunted the house +we're in; but, gee! I've been around at all times of night and never +seen a thing! There are lots of jolly, shivery noises--stairs creaking, +and woodwork popping, and all that, you know; but nary a ghost. Look +here, Polly! Let me sit down in the store some night, will you? I'd love +to!" + +"You've got funny ideas of fun," murmured George. + +"Oh, but it's gone now," said Mae. "Hasn't it, Polly? You haven't heard +the noise for a long time, have you?" + +"No, not for--oh, two years, I think. At least, that's what Mama says. +Maybe, though, she sleeps better and doesn't hear things." + +"I guess Mr. What's-his-name was right," said Lee. "It was probably a +rat, or a family of rats." + +"Rats wouldn't make the same sound every time," scoffed Laurie. + +"They might. Trained rats might. Maybe they escaped from a circus." + +"And maybe you escaped from an asylum," responded Laurie, getting up. +"Let's take him home before he gets violent." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII--LAURIE MAKES A PROTEST + + +The football team continued to add victories, and as the fateful 20th of +November approached enthusiasm grew until, after the Whittier game, +which Hillman's won by a field goal in the final hectic two minutes, it +became more a furore than enthusiasm. Ned, by that time, had settled +down to a realization that, no matter what progress he made this fall, +no matter how adept he became at kicking a football down the field or +over the cross-bar, he would not make the first team; that, in short, he +was being educated as next year material. There was no injustice in +this, and he realized it; for, aside from his proficiency as a kicker, +he was not in the class with the school team backs. He couldn't worm his +way through a hole in the opposing line the way Slavin could, nor smash +through the defense the way Mason did, nor dodge and side-step in a +broken field like Pope. Once going, Ned was rather hard to stop, for he +displayed some of the slippery qualities of an eel; but it took him ten +yards to get his speed up, and the opponents had a discouraging way of +getting through and flooring him before the tenth yard was won! But he +had grown to love the game, and no one toiled more conscientiously. +There were times when Laurie devoutly wished that Ned hadn't taken up +the game, for after a half-hour of Ned's chatter Laurie found the +subject of football a trifle dull. + +On the Wednesday before the Farview contest the Orstead High School team +came over for a practice game. At least, Hillman's called it a practice +game and considered it such; but High School had blood in her eye and +was secretly determined to wreak all the vengeance possible. Once a +year, for the space of some three hours, Orstead High School swore +allegiance to Hillman's and turned out at the field and rooted valiantly +for the Blue while she battled with Farview. But all the rest of the +time she was frankly hostile and derisive. This Wednesday afternoon the +hostility was apparent from the first. More than a hundred boys and a +scattering of girls followed their team to the Hillman's field and +demanded revenge for the early-season defeat, while the High School +team, which had passed through a rather successful season and was not at +all the aggregation that the Blue had beaten 10 to 7, started right out +after it. + +Coach Mulford began with his first-string players, and against them High +School was not dangerous, although there were anxious moments. The +second period ended with the score 7--0 in Hillman's favor, only a +fumble by Slavin on High School's eight yards saving the visitor from a +second touch-down. When the third quarter began, Coach Mulford put in +nearly a new eleven, only Kewpie Proudtree, Farley, Mason, and Pope +remaining over. Perhaps the High School coach had talked new strength +and determination into his charges during the intermission, for the +visitors started in on the second half in whirlwind fashion. The Blue +kicked off, and High School's quarter got the ball on his +twenty-five-yard line and scampered back to the thirty-five before he +was laid low by Farley, the Blue's left end. From there, with fierce +slams at Hillman's right and two short forward passes over the center of +the line, High School reached the opponent's thirty-two. There an +off-side penalty set her back, and, after two attempts at rushing that +produced but three yards, she kicked to the five-yard line. Kendrick +fumbled the catch, but recovered and was downed on his ten. Pope punted +on second down to mid-field, and from there High School started another +slashing advance that took her to the thirty-four yards before she was +halted. + +On the side-lines, the High School supporters were shouting and +beseeching and banners were waving deliriously. A tow-haired full-back, +who had all along proved the visitor's best ground-gainer, smashed +through the Hillman's left for two yards; and then, on fourth down, +faking a kick, he set off on a romp around the adversary's right. +Lightner, the second-string end, was effectually boxed, and the runner, +turning wide, was off down the field at top speed. Only Hop Kendrick +stood between him and the goal-line, and Hop waited on the fifteen +yards, wary and alert. The tow-haired boy's feint to the right didn't +fool him, and when the side-stepping to the left began, Hop was on him +with a clean dive and a hard tackle, and the two rolled to earth +together. But the ball was on the thirteen yards now, and it was first +down for High School, and the latter was not to be denied. A plunge off +tackle took the pigskin in front of the goal, though there was no gain. +Hillman's piled up an attack at right guard. On third down, High School +called for kick formation, and the tow-haired terror dropped back. + +From the side of the gridiron, Hillman's rooters chanted: "Block that +kick! Block that kick!" But there was no kick to block, for the +full-back only backed away a pace or two when the pigskin reached him, +and then tossed to the corner of the field and to the eager hands of an +uncovered right end who had but to make three strides before he was over +the line. Hop got him then; but the damage was done, and the visitors +lining the gridiron were cheering and cavorting wildly. The kick was +from a difficult angle, but the tow-haired player made it, and the score +was tied. + +The teams changed fields a minute later. Undismayed, Coach Mulford sent +in three new substitutes, one of them in place of Pope. Hillman's got +the ball in mid-field on a fumble, and set off for the adversary's goal; +but the new players were not able to make much headway, and Deering, who +had taken Pope's place, punted. The effort landed the ball on High +School's thirty-seven, and her quarter ran it back eight more before he +was stopped. Three tries at the line netted seven yards, and the visitor +punted to Hop Kendrick on his eighteen. This time Hop hugged the ball +hard and set off along the far side of the gridiron at a smart pace. +Fortunately for him, one High School end overran. The other challenged, +but missed his tackle. By that time a hasty interference had formed, +and, guarded by Mason and Lightner, Hop reached his forty before +misfortune overtook him. There a High School tackle crashed through the +interference and nailed him hard. + +But that twenty-yard sprint had brought new vim to the Blue's novices, +and new confidence, and from their forty yards they began a fast, hard +attack that placed High School with her back to the wall almost before +she realized it. If the substitutes lacked the experience and brawn of +the first-choice players, they at least had sand and speed. And they had +a quarter-back who was earnest and grim and determined, and who, sensing +that the opponent was weary, realized that speed, and a lot of it, was +the one thing that could save the day. And so Hop proved his right to +his nickname that afternoon. Hop he did, and so did his team. Signals +were fairly shot into the air, and there was no longer any time between +plays for High School to recover her breath. Twice, with plunges at the +right of the visitor's line and runs outside her tackles, Hillman's made +her distance and the pigskin rested on the thirty-six yards. + +So far the Blue had attempted but three forward passes, of which only +one had succeeded. Now, from position, Hop threw straight over the +center, and somehow Lightner was there and pulled it down, although the +enemy was clustered around him thick. That seven-yard gain was made ten +when Deering was poked through the center, ten a little more, for the +ball was down on High School's twenty-four-yard line. The game that had +been proclaimed a practice event for the purpose of seasoning the +substitutes against Saturday's contest had developed within the last +half-hour into a battle to the death. Outside the gridiron the opposing +factions hurled defiant cheers at each other and rooted as they had not +rooted all the season. On the field the rivalry was even more intense, +and black looks and hard knocks were the order. + +High School, sparring for time, administered to a breathless right +guard, and then drew into a bunch for a whispered conference, while +Hillman's supporters hooted derisively. Deering gained three and Boessel +two more. High School ran two substitutes on, and, after the next play, +two more. An old-fashioned criss-cross sent Mason around his own right +end for eight yards and planted the ball just short of the ten-yard +line. Mason gave place to Beedle. A slide off tackle centered the +pigskin and gained a scant yard. Deering struck center for a yard loss, +and Lightner was caught off-side. The ball went back to the seventeen +yards. + +High School was playing desperately and her line had stiffened. Beedle +gave way to Ned after that second down, and Ned had his instructions. +The ball was in front of High School's goal, and from the seventeen +yards a field goal was an easy proposition if the opponents could be +held away from the kicker. Perhaps Hop Kendrick didn't realize why Ned +had been sent in, or perhaps he thought better of his own judgment. +Since by the rules Ned could not communicate the instructions from the +coach until after the following play, he could only look his surprise +when Hop failed to call him back to kicking position. Farley, captain in +Stevenson's absence, seemed to be on the point of protesting, and even +took a step toward the quarter-back; but he evidently reconsidered, for +he returned to his position at the end of the line, and the starting +signal followed. + +The play was a fake attack on the right, with Boessel carrying the ball +to the left inside of tackle, and it worked to perfection. High School, +over-anxious, stormed to the defense of her threatened right side, and +Boessel, with Ned hanging at his flank as far as the five-yard line, +where the earth suddenly rose up and smote him, romped over the line for +the last and deciding touch-down, while the Blue cohorts went fairly +wild with delight. + +On the side-line, Coach Mulford turned to Joe Stevenson. "What do you +think of Kendrick?" he asked, smiling. + +"I'd kiss him if I had him here," answered Joe, grinning joyously. "I +call him one sweet little quarter, Coach!" + +"Well, this was his day, all right," mused the other; "I hope he will +show up as well Saturday. Now we'll see whether Turner can kick a goal. +He's been doing some good work in practice, but he looks scared to death +and will probably miss it by a mile." + +And Ned _was_ scared, too. He tried to steady his nerves by assuring +himself that, whether he made it or missed it, the Blue had won the +game, and that consequently a failure made little difference. But the +silence of his schoolmates and the "booing" of the visiting rooters +affected him badly. To Hop, holding the ball from the turf, it seemed +that Ned would never have done pointing it. And so it seemed to the +onlookers. Never was a kicker more deliberate. But at last Hop heard a +faint "Down!" and drew his fingers from beneath the oval and waited an +anxious moment. Then there was a clean, hard _thud_, and the +quarter-back, watching its flight, saw the pigskin rise lazily, end over +end, and go straight and high over the bar. + +And he might have heard Ned's loud sigh of relief, had not the pounding +of the charging enemy and the cries of the Hillman's horde drowned it. + +Another kick-off and four plays ended the contest, and High School, +after cheering half-heartedly, went off disgruntled and silent. + +On his way to the field-house, Ned, trotting along with Hop, encountered +Polly and Mae in the throng, and paused to speak. "Bully game, wasn't +it?" he said. Then, seeing Mae's High School banner, he added: "High +School put up a dandy fight, Mae." + +"Indeed she did," agreed Mae. "I thought once she was going to win, +too." + +Polly was laughing. "Poor Mae didn't know which team she wanted to win," +she explained. "When High School gained she waved her flag, and when +Hillman's gained she waved it just the same. She was waving it all the +time! That was a lovely goal you made, Nid." + +"Thanks. I--well, I was so scared I didn't know whether to kick the ball +or bite it! I'm mighty glad it went over, though." He nodded and hurried +on in the wake of Hop, who, being a very earnest young gentleman and +completely absorbed in the business of football, considered girls far +outside his scheme of things. + +Three quarters of an hour later, Laurie arose from his recumbent +position on the window-seat of Number 16 East Hall, and delivered an +ultimatum in quiet but forceful tones. "Ned," he said, "I saw that game +from about the middle of the first quarter to the bitter end. Nothing +escaped my eagle gaze. I can even tell you exactly how many times that +High School umpire consulted his rules book when he thought no one was +looking. I know how much dirt there was in Frank Brattle's left ear when +they dragged him out. I know--" + +"Well, what of it? What's your chief trouble?" growled Ned. + +"Knowing all this and more, much more, Neddie, I refuse to listen any +longer to your reminiscences. You've been through the game three times +since you landed up here, and there's a limit to my endurance. And +you've reached that limit, Neddie--you really have. I'm going down to +George's, where I may hear something besides touch-downs and passes and +goals. When you recover, Neddie, come on down." + +"Oh, go to the dickens!" muttered Ned, as the door closed softly. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII--BEFORE THE BATTLE + + +"The fellow who put these posts in," grunted Bob, as he heaved and +tugged, "must have had more time than brains!" + +It was Thursday afternoon. A hard frost, which had frozen the ground a +half-inch deep, had counseled him to finish the work of wrecking the +arbor. But three posts remained, and at one of these Bob, after having +dug around it, and pried at it with a bar until patience was exhausted, +was tugging lustily. Laurie, wiping the sweat of honest toil from his +brow, cast aside the bar and gave a hand. + +"Come on," he said hopefully. "One, two--three! Heave!" + +"Heave!" muttered Bob. + +But although the post, which had formed a corner of the arbor, gave from +side to side, it refused to leave its nest. Panting, the boys drew off +and observed it glumly. + +"Guess we'll have to dig some more," said Bob. + +"Wait a minute. Let me get a purchase on it with the bar." + +Laurie seized that implement again and drove it into the softened earth +beside the post. As the first drive didn't send it far enough, he pulled +it out, and put all his strength into the next effort. This time he +succeeded beyond all expectations. The bar slipped through his fingers +and disappeared from sight! + +"Well!" he gasped. "What do you know--" + +"Where-where did it go to?" cried Bob, dumfounded. + +"It went--it went to China, I guess! It just slipped right through my +hands, and kept on slipping!" Laurie knelt and dug at the hole with his +fingers. + +"Find it?" asked Bob. "Try the shovel." + +"No, I can't feel it. Hand it here." Laurie took the shovel and dug +frantically. Then Bob dug. The result was that they enlarged and +deepened the hole around the post, but the crowbar failed to +materialize. + +"I suppose," said Laurie, finally, dropping the shovel and tilting back +his cap, "what happened was that I struck a sort of hole, and the bar +went right down in. Maybe it was a rat-hole, Bob." + +"I guess so. Anyway, it's gone, and we'll have to get a new one." + +"Oh, I guess we'll find it when we get the post out. Let's try the old +thing." + +They did, and, after a moment of indecision, it came out most +obligingly. But there was still no crowbar to be seen. Laurie shook his +head, mystified. "That's the funniest thing I ever saw," he declared. + +"It surely is! Look here; maybe there's an old well there." + +"Then why didn't the post go down into it?" + +"Because it's covered over with stones. The bar happened to slip into +a--a crevice." + +Laurie nodded dubiously. "That might be it," he agreed. "Or perhaps +we've discovered a subterranean cavern!" + +"Caverns always are subterranean, aren't they?" + +"No; sometimes they're in the side of a hill." + +"Then they're caves." + +"A cave and a cavern are the same thing, you smart Aleck." + +"All right; but even if a cavern is in a hill, it's underground, and +subterranean means under--" + +"Help! You win, Bob! Come on and get hold of this log and let's get it +out of here." And, as they staggered with it across the garden to add it +to the pile of posts and lumber already there, he continued: "There's +one thing certain, Bob, and that's that you won't get me to play tennis +on your court. I'd be afraid of sinking into the ground some fine day!" + +"Maybe you'd find the crowbar then," said Bob. "Heave!" + +Laurie "heaved," patted the brown loam from his hands, and surveyed the +pile. "There's a lot of good stuff there," he pondered. "Some of it's +sort of rotten, but there's enough to build something." + +"What do you want to build?" + +"I don't know. We could build a sort of covered seat, like the one in +Polly's yard, where folks could rest and look on. Take about six of +these posts and some of the strips, and some boards for the seat--" + +"Who'd dig the post-holes?" inquired Bob, coldly. + +"Oh, we could get a couple of the others to help. Honest, Bob, it would +be a lot of fun. Maybe we couldn't do it before spring, though." + +"I might leave the stuff here," said Bob. "Thomas could sort of pile it +a little neater, you know. I love to carpenter. Sometime we'll draw a +plan of it, Nod." + +"Right-o! How about those other posts? No use trying to do anything with +'em to-day, is there?" + +"No; we'll have to have another crowbar." + +Laurie looked relieved. "Well, let's go over and see whether the Widow's +got any of those little cakes with the chocolate on top," he suggested. +"Hard work always makes a fellow hungry." + +There was a rousing football meeting in the auditorium that evening, +with speeches and music, songs and cheers; and the enthusiasm spilled +over to the yard afterward, and threatened to become unruly until Dan +Whipple mounted the steps of School Hall and spoke with all the +authority of eighteen years and the senior class presidency. Whereupon +someone suggested a cheer for the Doctor, and the joyous crowd thronged +to the west end of the building and gave nine long "Hillman's," with a +"Doctor Hillman" on the end. And then suddenly the lights flashed on on +the porch, and there were the Doctor and Miss Tabitha, the former +looking very much as if he had awakened very recently from a nap--which +was, in fact, the case. But he was smiling as he stepped to the doorway +and near-sightedly surveyed the throng. + +"This--er--testimonial would appear to demand some sort of a response," +he announced, as the applause that had greeted his appearance died away. +"But I find myself singularly devoid of words, boys. Perhaps some of you +recall the story of the visitor in Sunday-school who was unexpectedly +called on by the superintendent to address the children. He hemmed and +hawed and said, finally, that it gave him much pleasure to see so many +smiling, happy faces. And he hoped they were all good little boys and +girls and knew their lessons. And then his eloquence failed him, and +after an unhappy interim he asked: 'And now, children, what shall I +say?' And a little girl in the front row lisped: 'Pleathe, Mithter, thay +"Amen" and thit down!' + +"Perhaps I'd better say 'Amen' and sit down, too," he went on, when the +laughter had ceased; "but before I do I'd like to assure you that I am +'rooting' just as hard as any of you for a victory the day after +to-morrow. My duties will not allow me to see the team in action, as +much as I'd like to, but I am kept well informed of its progress. I have +my scouts at work constantly. Mr. Pennington reports to me on the work +of the linemen; Mr. Barrett advises me each day as to the backs; Mr. +Wells is my authority on--er--stratagem." + +This amused his hearers intensely, since none of the three instructors +mentioned had ever been known to attend a game or watch a practice. + +"And," continued the principal, when he could, "I follow the newspaper +reports of our enemy's progress. Of course, I don't believe all I read. +If I did I'd be certain that only overwhelming disaster awaited us on +Saturday. But there is one thing that troubles me. I read recently that +the Farview center is a very large youth, weighing, if I am not +mistaken, some one hundred and seventy pounds. While mere weight and +brawn are not everything, I yet tremble to consider what may happen to +the slight, atomic youth who will oppose him. Young gentlemen, I shudder +when I dwell on that unequal meeting, that impending battle of David and +Goliath!" + +When the new burst of laughter had subsided, the doctor continued more +soberly: "I wish the team all success, a notable victory. Or, if the +gods of battle will it otherwise, I wish it the manly grace to accept +defeat smilingly and undismayed. I am certain of one thing, boys, which +is that, whether fortune favors the Dark Blue or the Maroon and White, +the contest will be hard fought and clean, and bring honor alike to the +victor and vanquished. You have my heartiest good wishes. And"--the +doctor took the hand of Miss Tabitha, who had been standing a few steps +behind him--"and the heartiest good wishes of another, who, while not a +close follower of your sports, has a warm spot in her heart for each and +every one of you, and who is as firmly convinced as I am of the +invincibility of the Dark Blue!" + +"Three cheers for Tab--for Miss Hillman!" cried a voice; and, at first a +trifle ragged with laughter, the cheers rang forth heartily. Then came +another cheer for the doctor and a rousing one for "Hillman's! +_Hillman's!!_ HILLMAN'S!!!" And the little throng, laughing and +chattering, dispersed to the dormitories. + +Friday saw but a light practice for the first team and a final +appearance of the scrubs, who, cheered by the students, went through a +few minutes of snappy signal work, and the waving sweaters and blankets +dashed off to the field-house, their period of servitude at an end. For +the first team there was a long blackboard drill in the gymnasium after +supper, and Ned, who, somewhat to his surprise and very much to his +gratification, had been retained on the squad, returned to Number 16 at +nine o'clock in a rather bemused condition of mind. Kewpie, who +accompanied him, tried to cheer him up. + +"It'll be all right to-morrow, Nid," he declared. "I know how you feel. +Fact is, I wouldn't know one signal from another if I got it this +minute, and as for those sequences--" Words failed him. "But when you +get on the field to-morrow it'll all come back to you. It--it's sort of +psychological. A trick of memory and all that. You understand!" + +"I don't see why he needs to worry, anyhow," observed Laurie, cruelly. +"He won't get a show in to-morrow's game." + +Ned looked hopeful for a moment, then relapsed into dejection as Kewpie +answered: "I'd like to bet you he will, Nod. I'd like to bet you that +he'll play a full period. You just watch Farview lay for Pope! Boy, +they're going to make hard weather for that lad! They were after him +last year, but they couldn't get him and he played right through. But +I'd like to bet you that to-morrow they'll have him out of it before the +last quarter." + +"What do you mean?" asked Laurie, in surprise. "They don't play that +sort of a game, do they?" + +"What sort of a game?" responded Kewpie. "They play hard, that's the way +they play! And every time they tackle Pope, they'll tackle him so he'll +know it. And every time he hits the line, there'll be one of those +red-legs waiting for him. Oh, they don't play dirty, if you mean that; +but they don't let any chances slip, believe me!" + +"It sounds sort of off color to me, though," Laurie objected. "How are +you going to put a fellow out of the game if you don't slug or do +something like that?" + +Kewpie smiled knowingly. "My son," he said, "if I start after you and +run you around the dormitory about twenty times--" + +Ned, in spite of his down-heartedness, snickered at the picture evolved, +and Kewpie grinned. + +"Well, suppose some one else did, then. Anyhow, after he'd done it about +a couple of dozen times, you'd be all in, wouldn't you? He wouldn't have +to kick you or knock you down or anything, would he? Well, that's what I +mean. That's the way they'll go after Pope. They'll tire him out. You +understand. And every time they tackle him, they'll tackle him good and +hard. Well, suppose Pope does go out, and there's a chance for a field +goal, as there's likely to be. Who will Pinky put in? Why, Nid, of +course! Who else is there? Brattle can't kick one goal in six. No more +can Deering. What do you think Mulford's been nursing Nid all the season +for?" + +"Next year?" said Laurie, questioningly. + +"Sure--and this year, too. You watch and see. I'd like to bet you that +Nid'll have a goal to kick to-morrow--yes, and that he'll kick it, too!" + +"Don't!" groaned Ned. "I never could do it!" + +"Well," laughed Laurie, "I don't bet for money, Kewpie, but I tell you +what I'll do. If Ned kicks a goal to-morrow, I'll take you over to the +Widow's, and I'll buy you all the cream-puffs you can eat at one +sitting!" + +"It's a go!" cried Kewpie. "And if he doesn't, I'll do it to you!" + +"Of course," explained Laurie, in recognition of his brother's look of +pained inquiry, "I'm not making the offer because I think Ned can't do +it, or because I don't want him to play. You bet I do! It's because I do +want him to, Kewpie. You see, I usually lose bets!" + +"All right, you crazy galoot. I've got to beat it. Pinky made us swear +by the Great Horn Spoon to be in bed by ten. Good night. Don't let the +signal stuff worry you, Nid. It'll come out all right to-morrow. You +understand. Night!" + +When the door had closed, Laurie laughed and turned to Ned. "He's a good +old scout, isn't he? I say, what's the matter with you, Ned? You look +like the end of a hard winter! Cheer up! It may not be true!" + +But Ned shook his head, although he tried to smile unconcernedly. "It'll +happen just the way he told, Laurie," he said, sadly. "I just know it +will! They'll get Pope out of the way, and there'll be a field goal +wanted, just as there was Wednesday, and Mulford will send me in!" + +"Well, what of it? You'd like that, wouldn't you?" + +"I--I'm scared!" + +"Oh, piffle, Neddie! You've got nerves, that's all. The night before the +battle, you know, and all that! In the morning you'll be as right as +rain. Get your clothes off and tumble in. Want me to read a story to +you? There's a corker in the 'Post' this week." + +"No, thanks; I guess not. I'd better go to sleep." + +But, although Ned, stifling a desire to sit up and read the corking +story himself, put the light out at ten minutes before ten, he lay awake +until after midnight and suffered as blue a case of funk as any boy ever +did. And when, at length, sleep came, it was filled with visions in +which he stood in the center of a vast arena, the object of countless +eyes, and tried over and over, and never with success, to kick a +perfectly gigantic leather ball over a cross-bar that was higher than +the Masonic Temple at home! + +The truth is that Ned was over-trained and stale. And the further truth +is that when he awoke to as sweet a November morning as ever peered down +from a cloudless sky through golden sunlight, he felt, as he phrased it +to himself, like a sock that had just come through the wringer! + + + + +CHAPTER XIX--NED IS MISSING + + +Ned ate almost no breakfast, and Laurie noted the fact, but, after a +glance at his brother's face, said nothing. After all, he reflected, +there were probably others of the squad who were displaying no more +appetite this morning. Afterward, on the way to School Hall for their +only recitation of the day, he asked off-handedly: "How are you feeling, +Neddie?" + +Ned didn't answer at once. When he did, he only replied laconically: +"Rotten!" + +"How do you mean, rotten?" Laurie disguised anxiety under flippancy. +"Tummy out of whack? Or is it a case of ingrowing signals?" + +"I don't know what the trouble is," answered Ned seriously. "I feel +perfectly punk. And I--I'm scared, Laurie. I'd give a million dollars if +I didn't have to go to the field this afternoon. I wish to goodness I +could duck somehow. Say, feel my forehead. Isn't it hot?" + +Laurie felt, and shook his head. "Cool as a cucumber, you old fakir. +Buck up, Neddie! You'll feel better after a while. Did you sleep all +right?" + +"I guess so," replied the other dispiritedly. "I dreamed a lot. Dreamed +I was kicking goals over a bar as high as a mountain. And the ball was +as big as a hogshead. And there were about a million folks watching me, +and Mr. Cornish was beating a bass-drum." + +Laurie laughed. "Some dream, Neddie! Tell you what. After we get out of +here, we'll take a nice, long hike. Mulford wants the players to stay +outdoors, doesn't he? Didn't you tell me he said you were to walk or +something?" + +Ned nodded. "I'm too tired to walk, though, Laurie. Guess I'll get a +book and go over to the park. Or go down and jump in the river!" + +"Fine idea!" scoffed Laurie. "What have you got against the river? It +never did anything to you, did it?" + +Ned, however, refused to smile. "You don't need to come along," he said. +"I--I guess I'd rather be alone, Laurie." + +"You will be, if you're going to jump in the river, partner! The water's +a heap too cold to appeal to me. Well, cheer up. See you when we come +out." + +There was a holiday feeling in the air this morning that didn't promise +well for recitations, and Mr. Brock's chemistry class was a sore trial +to that gentleman. Yet, although he frowned often and sighed many +despairing sighs, he made allowance for the prevailing mood of +restlessness and exhibited unusual patience. And finally it was over and +the class trooped out. + +"You stay here," said Laurie, "and I'll run over and get a couple of +books from the room. What do you want?" + +"I don't care--anything," answered Ned, listlessly. + +When Laurie went off, Ned seated himself on a step and gazed forlornly +around him. Groups of boys stood on the walks in animated conversation. +Near at hand, a half-dozen juniors were discussing the game avidly, +drawing comforting conclusions from a comparison of the season's +performances of Hillman's and Farview. Suddenly the prospect of sitting +on a park bench with Laurie became utterly distasteful to Ned, and, with +a hurried glance in the direction of East Hall, he arose and made his +way along the drive and into Summit Street. There he turned to the left +and walked quickly to the corner. At Washington Street another look +behind showed that he had made his escape, and he heaved a sigh of +relief and went on past the library and into Cumber Street, heading +unconsciously toward the open country eastward of town. + +When Laurie returned to School Hall with a book for Ned and a magazine +for himself, he sat down and waited a few minutes, supposing that Ned +would be back. When he didn't come, Laurie went over to School Park, +thinking that he had perhaps grown tired of waiting in the yard. But no +Ned was to be seen, and, puzzled but untroubled, Laurie dawdled into +Pine Street. The white-and-red sign above the Widow Deane's little store +shone bravely in the sunlight. For an hour Laurie enjoyed the society of +Polly and Antoinette in the sunny garden, where, against the board +fence, a clump of hardy chrysanthemums made a cheery showing of yellow +and lavender. Antoinette had retired to winter quarters, which means +that a gunny-sack and a length of old red carpet had been draped over +her box. But just now the drapery was lifted, and Antoinette was doing +great things to a very large cabbage-leaf. Towser had established +himself in the sunshine atop the porch roof and gazed down benignly at +the pair below. + +Laurie and Polly talked, of course, about the game. He and George were +again to act as escorts to the two girls, a fact that had eaten a large +hole in Laurie's remaining allowance. About ten o'clock he took himself +away, reminding Polly to be ready at half-past one, since it took a good +ten minutes to walk to the field, and because, wisely, he realized that +to Polly "half-past one" would mean a quarter or two. Climbing the fence +into Bob's yard, he discovered that young man with a new crowbar about +to begin an attack on the remaining posts of the arbor. So he removed +his sweater, moistened his hands in the time-honored and only +efficacious manner, and joined the assault. After the posts were added +to the pile beside the fence, the two boys went indoors and refreshed +the inner man with piping-hot ginger cookies. Thus it was that it was +nearly noon when Laurie got back to Number 16, to find, to his +uneasiness, that Ned was not there. Nor, as far as any evidences showed, +had he been there since before breakfast. + +Laurie threw himself on the window-seat and tried to apply himself to +the magazine that he had carried all morning. But he began to be really +worried about Ned. He didn't understand where he could be. Even if he +had gone off by himself, mooning along the roads, which was what Laurie +suspected he had done, he should have been home before this, for, as +Laurie knew, the players were to go to lunch at twelve. Presently he +dropped the magazine and strode across the corridor to Number 15. Kewpie +was not in, but Hop was there--a more than ordinarily serious-faced Hop, +who replied to Laurie's inquiry in an absent-minded manner suggesting +that some one had placed him in a trance and gone away without awakening +him. Hop hadn't seen Nid all morning. Kewpie had just gone over to West +Hall. He hoped there wouldn't be any wind this afternoon. Farview had a +punter that could do fifty yards easily, and a wind would lengthen his +kicks frightfully. Did Nod think those clouds meant wind? + +Laurie withdrew without venturing an opinion in the matter. Football, he +reflected, was a far more dangerous pastime than folks generally +realized, when it could affect a fellow's brains like that! Downstairs, +he searched the little group about the dining-hall door, and finally +made inquiry of Dave Murray. Dave was worried and excited and a bit +short-tempered. + +"Nid Turner? No, I haven't seen him. He'll be here pretty quick, though. +We eat at twelve." + +He left Laurie, to push his way toward the entrance to accost Mr. +Mulford, who was coming in; and Laurie went out and sat down on the step +and watched. Kewpie came striding across from West Hall, smiling and +evidently very fit. But when Laurie questioned him the smile faded. + +"Nid? No, I haven't set eyes on him. Isn't he here? Are you sure? Say, +you don't suppose the silly guy has bolted? He was in mean shape last +night, Nod. But he wouldn't do that! He's no quitter. He'll be here in a +minute or two." + +"Suppose--suppose he isn't?" asked Laurie, anxiously. "Would it matter +much?" + +"Matter?" Kewpie shrugged, one eye on the dining-hall door, through +which his team-mates were beginning to pass. "It wouldn't matter to the +game, I guess. I was only trying to cheer him up last night. You +understand. It isn't likely Pinky will use him. But it would be a bad +thing for him, Nod. It would be an awful black eye, in fact, if he cut +the game. Guess Pinky would just about can him for all time! I say, I've +got to hustle in there. Why don't you have a look around for him? Maybe +he's in the library, or over in West, or--or somewhere. See you later, +Nod!" + +Kewpie disappeared into the dining-hall, and a moment later the door was +closed. Laurie acted on Kewpie's suggestion, and made a thorough search +of School Hall and the other dormitory, and even poked his head into the +gymnasium, where only an empty floor met his gaze. After that there +seemed nothing to do but wait. Ned had already missed his lunch, for the +fellows were coming out into the corridor when Laurie returned to East +Hall. Murray nailed him as he tried to pass unnoticed to the stairs. + +"Say, Nod, where's that brother of yours?" he demanded indignantly. +"Didn't he know that lunch was at twelve? Where is he, anyway?" + +"I don't know, Dave," Laurie answered, miserably. "He went for a walk +this morning, and I haven't seen him since. I guess he went too far and +couldn't get back in time. I've been looking all over for him." + +"That's fine!" said the manager, bitterly. "Mulford asked for him, and I +said I'd look him up. You'd better find him mighty quick, Nod. Tell him +to get something to eat somewhere and be at the gym not later than one. +There's a floor drill then. I'll make it all right with Mulford, +somehow. But there'll be the dickens and all to pay if he doesn't show +up!" + +Hoping against hope, Laurie hurried up to the room. But there was no +Ned. One o'clock came and passed. Time and again Laurie went to the gate +and looked up and down the street, but without result. Ned had +disappeared utterly, it seemed, and the unwelcome conclusion grew in +Laurie's mind that Ned had shown the white feather and had deliberately +absented himself. Laurie didn't like to think that, and there were +moments when he couldn't. But here it was nearly half-past one, and Ned +hadn't come, and facts are facts! It looked, he thought sadly, like a +bad day for the honor of the Turners! + +At half-past one he found George Watson in his room, and handed over one +of his tickets. "I can't go to the field with you," he said, "but I'll +find you over there. Try to keep a seat for me, will you?" + +"What's the big idea?" asked George, blankly. "Why can't you go with us? +That's a fine game to play!" + +"I'll tell you later. I--I've got something to do. Be a good fellow, +George, won't you? And tell Polly how it is, will you?" + +"How the dickens can I tell Polly how it is when I don't know how it is +myself?" asked George, indignantly. "Oh, all right! But you want to get +there pretty quick, Nod. It's hard to hold seats when there aren't +enough of them in the first place. There's a regular mob going out there +already!" + +Disconsolately Laurie hurried out and stationed himself at the dormitory +entrance. Presently the players emerged from the gymnasium in their togs +and passed through the little gate to Washington Street. Laurie watched +them file past, hoping hard that Ned would be among them. But, although +all the rest were there, twenty-one in all, there was no Ned. + +From Washington Street and Summit Street came a steady tramping of feet, +accompanied by a swishing sound as the pedestrians brushed through the +fallen leaves. Occasionally an automobile went by with a warning honk of +its horn at the corner. Looking over the withered hedge, Laurie could +see the colors of Hillman's and Farview marching past, banners of dark +blue bearing the white Old English H, maroon-and-white flags adorned +with the letters "F. A." Laughter and the merry, excited chatter of many +voices came to him. The yard was empty, except for a boy hurrying down +the steps of West Hall, and he too quickly disappeared through the gate. + +Presently Laurie looked at his watch. The time was eighteen minutes to +two. He left East Hall and turned toward the gymnasium. Out of the +shelter of the dormitory a little breeze fanned his face, and he +remembered Hop Kendrick's dread of a wind that would put more power into +the toe of the Farview punter. It might be, he reflected, that Hop was +due for disappointment; but the matter didn't seem very important to +him. The locker-room in the gymnasium was empty. Over the benches lay +the discarded underclothing of the players, and sometimes the outer +clothing as well, suggesting that excitement on this occasion had +prevailed over orderliness. Laurie made his way to Ned's locker. It was +closed, and behind the unfastened door hung his togs. + + + + +CHAPTER XX--FOR THE HONOR OF THE TURNERS + + +Walking felt good to Ned that morning. The air, brisk in spite of the +sunshine and the day's stillness, cleared his head of the queer +cloudiness that had been there since awakening, and, turning into the +country road that led eastward toward the higher hills, he strode along +briskly. He had, he reflected, played rather a low-down trick on Laurie; +but that could be explained later, and Laurie wouldn't mind when he +understood. When he had gone the better part of a mile into the country, +and the road had begun to steepen perceptibly, the sound of a motor +behind warned him to one side. But, instead of passing in a cloud of +dust, the automobile slowed down as it reached the pedestrian, and the +driver, a genial-looking man of middle age, hailed. + +"Going my way?" he asked. "Get in if you like." + +Ned hesitated, and then climbed in beside the solitary occupant of the +car. The prospect of speeding through the sunlit morning world appealed +to him, and he thanked the driver and snuggled into the other corner of +the front seat. + +"That's all right, my boy," answered the man, genially. "Glad to have +company. How far are you going?" + +"Just--just up the road a ways," replied Ned, vaguely. "I was out for a +walk, only this seemed better." + +"Well, it's quicker, though it doesn't give you quite so much exercise," +was the response. "You sing out when you've had enough. Maybe you can +get a lift going back, if you're not in too much of a hurry. Still, +there isn't much travel on this road. Most folks go around by Little +Windsor. It's longer, but the road's a sight better. I go this way +because I can do it quicker. There are some fierce bumps, though. Yell +if you drop out!" + +The car was a heavy one with good springs, and as long as Ned remained +in it the bad bumps didn't materialize. His companion evidently liked to +talk, and Ned learned a good deal about him and his business, without, +however, finding it very interesting. The man asked few questions, and +so Ned merely supplied the information that he was from Hillman's School +and that he liked to walk and that he had all the morning to get back +in. The car kept up an even, effortless speed of twenty-seven or -eight +miles an hour, and it was finding himself booming up the straight grade +over Candle Mountain that brought Ned to a sudden realization that if he +meant to get back to school by twelve o'clock without undue effort he +had best part company with his chatty acquaintance. So, at the summit of +the hill, he said good-by, repeated his thanks, and got out. + +"Guess you're about six miles from Orstead," said the man. "It won't +take you long to get back there, though, if you find a lift. Don't +hesitate to stop any one you see; they'll be glad to take you in. +Good-by!" + +The gray automobile went on and was speedily dropping from sight beyond +the nearly leafless forest. Ned watched it disappear, and then set his +face toward home. The ride had certainly done him good, he told himself. +The prospect of being called on to kick a dozen goals wouldn't have +dismayed him a mite at that moment. In fact, he suddenly realized that +he was going to be horribly disappointed if the chance to attempt at +least one goal from the field did not come to him, and he wondered why +he had felt so craven last night. + +After a mile or so a small, dust-covered car overhauled him and went by +without a challenge from him. It was still only ten o'clock, and he had +two hours yet, and he had no intention of begging a ride. Taken +leisurely, the remaining miles would be covered without weariness and in +plenty of time. When he had accomplished, as he reckoned, about half the +distance to Orstead, his watch said seventeen minutes to eleven. The +forenoon had grown appreciably warmer, and so had Ned. Beside the road +was a little knoll carpeted with ashy-brown beech-leaves. Only a stone +wall, bordered with blackberry briars, intervened. + +Ned climbed across the wall and seated himself on the slope of the +knoll. The land descended gently before him toward the river and the +town, but neither was in sight. Presently, removing his cap, he +stretched himself on his back and linked his fingers under his head. And +presently, because the blue, sunlit, almost cloudless sky was too +dazzling to gaze at long, he closed his eyes. And as he did so a +strange, delicious languor descended upon him. He sighed luxuriously and +stretched his legs into a more comfortable position. It was odd that he +should feel sleepy at this time of day, he thought, and it wouldn't do +to stay here too long. He wished, though, that he didn't have to get +anywhere at any especial time. It would be great to just lie here like +this and feel the sun on his face and-- + +At about that moment he stopped thinking at all and went sound asleep. + +When he awoke he was in shadow, for the sun had traveled around and past +the elbow of a near-by old and knotted oak whose brown-pink leaves still +clung to the twisted branches. Ned looked around him in puzzlement, and +it was a long moment before he could account for his surroundings. When +he had, he sat up very quickly and gave a startled look at his watch. +The thing was crazy! It said twenty-one minutes past two! Of course it +couldn't be that late, he told himself indignantly. But even as he said +it he was oppressed by a conviction that it was. And a look at the sun +removed any lingering doubt! + +He sprang to his feet, seized his cap, and stumbled across the wall, +and, again on the road, set out at a run toward home. But after a moment +he slowed up. "Was there any use in hurrying now? The game was already +in progress--had been going on for twenty minutes. The first quarter was +probably nearly over. What would they say to him, the fellows and Coach +Mulford and--Laurie? Somehow, what Laurie would think appeared far more +important than what any of the others might. He would have such a poor +excuse, he reflected ruefully! Went for a walk, and fell asleep by the +road! Gee, he couldn't tell them that! He might tell Laurie; but the +others--" + +He was jogging on as he thought things over. Even if he ran all the way, +and he couldn't do that, of course, he wouldn't get to school before +three. And then he would have to change into his togs and reach the +field. And by that time the second half would have started. Wouldn't it +be far better to remain away altogether? He might easily reach his room +unseen, and then, when Laurie returned, he could pretend illness. He +might not fool Laurie; but the others, Coach Mulford and Dave Murray and +the fellows, would have to believe him. + +If a fellow was ill, he couldn't be expected to play football. He even +got as far as wondering what particular and peculiar malady he could +assume, when he put the idea aside. + +"No use lying about it," he muttered. "Got to face the music, Ned! It +was your own fault. Maybe Mulford will let me down easy. I wouldn't like +to queer myself for next year. Gee, though, what'll the school think?" +And Ned groaned aloud. + +While he had slept, five vehicles had passed him, and as many persons +had seen him lying there asleep in the sun and idly conjectured about +him. But now, when he needed help to conquer the interminable three +miles that stretched between him and the town, and although he +constantly turned his head to gaze hopefully back along the dusty road, +not a conveyance appeared. Before long, since he had unwisely started at +too great a speed, he was forced to sit down on a rock and rest. He was +very nearly out of breath and the perspiration was trickling down +beneath his cloth cap. A light breeze had sprung up since he had dropped +asleep, and it felt very grateful as it caressed his damp hair and +flushed face. + +Perhaps those three miles were nearer four, because when, tired, dusty, +and heart-sick, he descried the tower of the Congregational church above +the leafless elms and maples of the village, the gilded hands pointed to +twelve minutes past three. Even had he arrived in time, he reflected +miserably, he would never have been able to serve his team-mates and his +school, for he was scarcely able to drag one foot behind the other as he +finally turned into the yard. + +The place appeared deserted, grounds and buildings alike, as Ned +unhesitatingly made his way across to the gymnasium. He had long since +decided on his course of action. No matter whether he had failed his +coach and his schoolmates, his duty was still plain. As late as it was, +he would get into his togs and report at the field. But when, in the +empty locker-room, he paused before where his football togs should have +been, he found only empty hooks. The locker, save for towels, was empty! + +At first he accepted the fact as conclusive evidence of his +disgrace--thought that coach or manager or an infuriated student body +had removed his clothes as a signal of degradation! Then the +unlikelihood of the conclusion came, and he wondered whether they had +really been there. But of course they had! He remembered perfectly +hanging them up, as usual, yesterday afternoon. Perhaps some one had +borrowed them, then. The locker had been unfastened, probably, for half +the time he forgot to turn the key in it. Wondering, he made his way out +of the building, undecided now what to do. But as he reached the corner +a burst of cheers floated to him from the play-field. His head came up. +It was still his duty to report, togs or no togs! Resolutely he set out +on Summit Street, the sounds of battle momentarily growing nearer as he +limped along. + +By the entrances many automobiles and some carriages lined the road. +Above the stand the backs of the spectators in the top row of seats +looked strangely agitated, and blue flags waved and snapped. A fainter +cheer came to him, the slogan of Farview, from the farther side of the +field. He heard the piping of signals, and a dull thud of leather +against leather, then cries and a whistle shrilling; and then a great +and triumphant burst of cheering from the Blue side. + +He hurried his steps, leaped the low fence beside the road, and came to +a group of spectators standing at the nearer end of the long, low grand +stand. He could see the gridiron now, and the battling teams in +mid-field. And the scoreboard at the farther end! And, seeing that, his +heart sank. "Hillman's 7--Visitors 9" was the story! He tugged the +sleeve of a man beside him, a youngish man in a chauffeur's livery. + +"What period is it?" he asked. + +"Fourth," was the answer. The man turned a good-natured look on the +boy's anxious face. + +"Been going about four minutes. You just get here?" + +Ned nodded. "How did they get their nine?" he asked. + +"Farview? Worked a forward pass in the second quarter for about thirty +yards, and smashed over for a touch-down. They failed at goal, though. +That made 'em six, and they got three more in the last quarter. +Hillman's fumbled about on their thirty, and that bandy-legged full-back +of Farview's kicked a corking goal from field. Gee--say, it was some +kick!" + +"Placement or drop?" + +"Drop. Almost forty yards, I guess. There they go again!" The chauffeur +tiptoed to see over a neighbor's head. Ned, past his shoulder, had an +uncertain glimpse of the Maroon and White breaking through the Blue's +left side. When the down was signaled, he spoke again. + +"How did Hillman's score?" he asked. + +"Huh? Oh, she got started right off at the beginning of the game and +just ate those red-legs up. Rushed the ball from the middle of the +field, five and six yards at a whack, and landed it on the other +fellow's door-sill. Farview sort of pulled together then and made a +fight; but that big chap, Pope, the full-back, smashed through finally, +right square between the posts. After that he kicked the goal. Guess the +red-legs had stage-fright then, but they got over it, and our fellows +haven't had a chance to score since. Pope had to lay off last quarter. +They played him to a standstill. Mason's mighty good, but he can't make +the gains Pope did. First down again! Say, they aren't doing a thing but +eating us up!" + +Ned wormed himself to the front of the group, and came to anchor at the +side of a tall policeman, close to the rope that stretched from the end +of the stand well past the zone line. By craning his neck he could look +down the length of the field. White-sweatered, armed with big blue +megaphones, Brewster and Whipple and two others, cheer leaders, were +working mightily, although the resulting cheers sounded weak where Ned +stood. The teams were coming down the field slowly but surely, the Blue +contesting every yard, but yielding after every play. The lines faced +each other close to the thirty now. Across the gridiron, Farview's paeans +were joyful and confident, and the maroon-and-white flags gyrated in +air. Well back toward his threatened goal, Hop Kendrick, white-faced and +anxious, called hoarse encouragement. Ned clenched his hands and hoped +and feared. + +A line attack turned into an unexpected forward pass, and a tall Farview +end came streaking down just inside the boundary. Hop was after him like +a shot; but Deering, who had taken Pope's place, ran him out at the +fifteen-yard line. The Maroon and White went wild with joy. The teams +trooped in on the heels of the diminutive referee, and the ball was down +just inside Hillman's fifteen. Ned looked the Blue team over. Save for +Corson and White, the line was made up of first-string men, but the back +field was, with the single exception of Mason, all substitutes: +Kendrick, Boessel, and Deering. + +A plunge straight at the center gave Farview two more precious yards, +Kewpie, apparently pretty well played out, yielding before the desperate +attack. Three more yards were gained between Emerson and Stevenson on +the left. Third down now, and five to go! Evidently Farview was +determined on a touch-down, for on the nine yards, with an excellent +chance for a field goal, she elected to rush again. But this time the +Blue's center held, and the Farview left half, when friend and foe was +pulled from above him, held the pigskin scarcely a foot in advance of +its former position. It was Hillman's turn to cheer, and cheer she did. +Ned added a wild shout of triumph to the din about him. + +Fourth down, and still five yards to gain! Now Farview must either kick +or try a forward, and realizing this the Blue's secondary defense +dropped back and out. A Farview substitute came speeding on, a new left +tackle. Then, amid a sudden hush, the quarter sang his signals: "Kick +formation! 73--61--29--" The big full-back stretched his arms out. +"12--17--9!" Back sped the ball, straight and breast-high. The Blue line +plunged gallantly. The stand became a pandemonium. The full-back swung a +long right leg, but the ball didn't drop from his hands. Two steps to +the left, and he was poising it for a forward pass! Then he threw, well +over the up-stretched hands of a Hillman's player who had broken +through, and to the left. A Maroon and White end awaited the ball, for +the instant all alone on the Blue's goal-line. Ned, seeing, groaned +dismally. Then from somewhere a pair of blue-clad arms flashed into +sight, a slim body leaped high, and from the Hillman's side of the field +came a veritable thunder of relief and exultation. For the blue arms had +the ball, and the blue player was dodging and worming toward the farther +side-line! Captain Stevenson it was who cleared the path for him at the +last moment, bowling over a Farview player whose arms were already +stretched to grapple, and, in a shorter time than the telling takes, Hop +Kendrick was racing toward the distant goal! + +Afterward Ned realized that during the ensuing ten or twelve seconds he +had tried desperately to shin up the tall policeman; but at the time he +had not known it, nor, or so it appeared, had the policeman, for the +latter was shouting his lungs out! Past the middle of the field sped +Hop, running as fleetly as a hare, and behind him pounded a solitary +Farview end. These two left the rest of the field farther and farther +back at every stride. For a moment it seemed that Hop would win that +desperate race; but at last, near the thirty-five yards, he faltered, +and the gap between him and his pursuer closed to a matter of three or +four strides, and after that it was only a question of how close to the +goal the Blue runner would get before he was overtaken and dragged down. +The end came between the fifteen- and twenty-yard streaks. Then, no more +than a stride behind, the Farview player sprang. His arms wrapped +themselves around Hop's knees, and the runner crashed to earth. + +For a long minute the babel of shouting continued, for that eighty-yard +sprint had changed the complexion of the game in a handful of seconds. +Hillman's was no longer the besieged, fighting in her last trench to +stave off defeat, but stood now on the threshold of victory, herself the +besieger! + +Farview called for time. Two substitutes came in to strengthen her line. +Hop, evidently no worse for his effort, was on his feet again, thumping +his players on the backs, imploring, entreating, and confident. On the +seventeen yards lay the brown oval, almost in front of the right-hand +goal-post. A field goal would put the home team one point to the good, +and, with only a few minutes left to play, win the game almost beyond a +doubt, and none on the Blue's side of the field doubted that a try at +goal would follow. Even when the first play came from ordinary formation +and Deering smashed into the left of Farview's line for a scant yard, +the audience was not fooled. Of course, it was wise to gain what ground +they might with three downs to waste, for there was always the chance +that a runner might get free and that luck would bring a touch-down +instead. + +Yet again Hop signaled a line attack. This time it was Mason who carried +the ball, and he squirmed through for two yards outside left tackle, +edging the pigskin nearer the center of the goal. Then came a shout that +started near the Blue team's bench and traveled right along the stand. A +slight youngster was pulling off his sweater in front of the bench, a +boy with red-brown hair and a pale, set face. Then he had covered the +red-brown hair with a leather helmet and was trotting into the field +with upraised hand. + +Ned stared and stared. Then he closed his eyes for an instant, opened +them, and stared again. After that he pinched himself hard to make +certain that he was awake and not still dreaming on the knoll beside the +road. The substitute was speaking to the referee now, and Deering was +walking away from the group in the direction of the bench. The cheering +began, the leaders waving their arms in unison along the length of the +Hillman's stand: + +"'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Deering!" + +And then again, a second later: "'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! 'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! +'Rah, 'rah, 'rah! Turner!" + +Ned turned imploringly to the tall policeman. "What--who was that last +fellow they cheered?" he faltered. + +The policeman looked down impatiently. + +"Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI--THE UNDERSTUDY + + +"_Block that kick! Block that kick! Block that kick!_" chanted Farview +imploringly, from across the trampled field. + +Yet above the hoarse entreaty came Hop Kendrick's confident voice: "All +right, Hillman's! Make it go! Here's where we win it! Kick formation! +Turner back!" And then: "25--78--26--194! 12--31--9--" + +But it was Hop himself who dashed straight forward and squirmed ahead +over one white line before the whistle blew. + +"Fourth down!" called the referee. "About four and a half!" + +"Come on!" cried Hop. "Make it go this time! Hard, fellows, hard! We've +got 'em going!" He threw an arm over the shoulder of the new substitute. +Those near by saw the latter shake his head, saw Hop draw back and stare +as if aghast at the insubordination. Farview protested to the referee +against the delay, and the latter called warningly. Hop nodded, and +raised his voice again: + +"Kick formation! Turner back!" + +Then he walked back to where the substitute stood and dropped to his +knees. + +"Place-kick!" grunted a man at Ned's elbow. "Can't miss it from there if +the line holds!" + +Ned, in a perfect agony of suspense, waited. Hop was calling his +signals. There was a pause. Then: "16--32--7--" + +Back came the ball on a long pass from Kewpie. It was high, but Hop got +it, pulled it down, and pointed it. Ned saw the kicker step forward. +Then he closed his eyes. + +There was a wild outburst from all around him, and he opened them again. +The ball was not in sight, but a frantic little man in a gray sweater +was waving his arms like a semaphore behind the farther goal. Along the +space between stand and side-line a quartette of youths leaped crazily, +flourishing great blue megaphones or throwing them in air. Above the +stand blue banners waved and caps tossed about. On the scoreboard at the +far end of the field the legend read: "Hillman's 10--Visitors 9." + +A moment later, a boy with a wide grin on his tired face and nerves that +were still jangling made his way along Summit Street in the direction of +school. Behind him the cheers and shouts still broke forth at intervals, +for there yet remained some three minutes of playing time. Once, in the +sudden stillness between cheers, he heard plainly the hollow thump of a +punted ball. More shouts then, indeterminate, dying away suddenly. The +boy walked quickly, for he had a reason for wanting to gain the security +of his room before the crowd flowed back from the field. At last, at the +school gate, he paused and looked back and listened. From the distant +scene of battle came a faint surge of sound that rose and fell and rose +again and went on unceasingly as long as he could hear. + +Back in Number 16, Ned threw his cap aside and dropped into the nearest +chair. There was much that he understood, yet much more that was still a +mystery to him. One thing, however, he dared hope, and that was that the +disgrace of having failed his fellows had passed him miraculously by! As +to the rest, he pondered and speculated vainly. He felt horribly limp +and weary while he waited for Laurie to come. And after a while he heard +cheering, and arose and went to a window. There could no longer be any +doubt as to the final outcome of the game. Between the sidewalk throngs, +dancing from side to side of the street with linked arms, came +Hillman's, triumphant! + +[Illustration: "Turner. Guess he's going to kick a goal for 'em."] + +And here and there, borne on the shoulders of joyous comrades, bobbed a +captured player. There were more than a dozen of them, some taking the +proceeding philosophically, others squirming and fighting for freedom. +Now and then one succeeded in getting free, but recapture was invariably +his fate. At least, this was true with a single exception while Ned +watched. The exception was a boy with red-brown hair, who, having +managed to slip from his enthusiastic friends, dashed through the throng +on the sidewalk, leaped a fence, cut across a corner, and presently sped +through the gate on Washington Street, pursuit defeated. A minute later, +flushed and breathless, he flung open the door of Number 16. + +At sight of Ned, Laurie's expression of joyous satisfaction faded. He +halted inside the door and closed it slowly behind him. At last, +"Hello," he said, listlessly. + +"Hello," answered Ned. Then there was a long silence. Outside, in front +of the gymnasium, they were cheering the victorious team, player by +player. At last, "We won, didn't we?" asked Ned. + +Laurie nodded as if the thing were a matter of total indifference. He +still wore football togs, and he frowningly viewed a great hole in one +blue stocking as he seated himself on his bed. + +"Well," he said, finally, "what happened to you?" + +Ned told him, at first haltingly, and then with more assurance as he saw +the look of relief creep into Laurie's face. As he ended his story, +Laurie's countenance expressed only a great and joyous amusement. + +"Neddie," he chuckled, "you'll be the death of me yet! You came pretty +near to it to-day, too, partner!" He sobered as his thoughts went back +to a moment some fifteen minutes before, and he shook his head. +"Partner, this thing of understudying a football hero is mighty wearing. +I'm through for all time. After this, Ned, you'll have to provide your +own substitute! I'm done!" + +"How--why--how did you happen to think of it?" asked Ned, rather humbly. +"Weren't you--scared?" + +"Scared? Have a heart! I was frightened to death every minute I sat on +the bench. And then, when Mulford yelped at me, I--well, I simply passed +away altogether! I'm at least ten years older than I was this morning, +Neddie, and I'll bet I've got gray hairs all over my poor old head. You +see, Murray as much as said that it was all day with you if you didn't +show up. Kewpie was a bit down-hearted about it, too. I waited around +until half-past one or after, thinking every moment that you'd turn +up--hoping you would, anyhow; although, to be right honest, Neddie, I +had a sort of hunch, after the way you acted and talked, that maybe +you'd gone off on purpose. Anyhow, about one o'clock I got to thinking, +and the more I thought the more I got into the notion that something had +to be done if the honor of the Turners was to be--be upheld. And the +only thing I could think of was putting on your togs and bluffing it +through. Kewpie owned up that he'd been talking rot last night--that he +didn't really think you'd be called on to-day. And I decided to take a +chance. Of course, if I'd known what was going to happen I guess I +wouldn't have had the courage; but I didn't know. I thought all I'd have +to do was sit on the bench and watch. + +"So I went over to the gym and got your togs on, and streaked out to the +field, I guess I looked as much like you as you do, for none of the +fellows knew that I wasn't you. I was careful not to talk much. Mr. +Mulford gave me thunder, and so did Murray, and Joe Stevenson looked +pretty black. I just said I was sorry, and there wasn't much time to +explain, anyway, because the game was starting about the time I got +there. Once, in the third period, when Slavin was hurt, Mulford looked +along the bench and stopped when he got to me, and I thought my time had +come. But I guess he wanted to punish me for being late. Anyway, Boessel +got the job. When the blow did fall, Neddie, I was sick clean through. +My tummy sort of folded up and my spine was about as stiff as--as a +drink of water! I wanted to run, or crawl under the bench or something. +'You've pleased yourself so far to-day, Turner,' said Mulford. 'Now +suppose you do something for the school. Kendrick will call for a kick. +You see that it gets over, or I'll have something to say to you later. +Remember this, though: not a word to any one but the referee until after +the next play. Now get out there and _win this game!_' + +"Nice thing to say to a chap who'd never kicked a football in his life +except around the street! But, gee, Neddie, what could I do? I'd started +the thing, and I had to see it through. Of course I thought that maybe +I'd ought to fess up that I wasn't me--or, rather, you--and let some one +else kick. But I knew there wasn't any one else they could depend on, +and I decided that if some one had to miss the goal, it might as well be +me--or you. Besides, there was the honor of the Turners! So I sneaked +out, with my heart in my boots,--your boots, I mean,--and Hop called for +a line play, and then another one, and I thought maybe I was going to +get off without making a fool of myself. But no such luck. 'Take all the +time you want, Nid,' said Hop. 'We'll hold 'em for you. Drop it over, +for the love of mud! We've got to have this game!' 'Drop it?' said I. +'Not on your life, Hop! Make it a place-kick or I'll never have a +chance!' 'What do you mean?' he asked. 'I mean I can't drop-kick +to-day.' I guess something in my voice or the way I said it put him on, +for he looked at me pretty sharp. Still, maybe he didn't guess the +truth, either, for he let me have my way and let me kick. + +"After that"--Laurie half closed his eyes and shook his head +slowly--"after that I don't really know what did happen. I have a sort +of a hazy recollection of Hop shouting some signals that didn't mean a +thing in my young life, and kneeling on the ground a couple of yards +ahead of me. I didn't dare look at the goal, though I knew it was ahead +of me and about twenty yards away. Then there was a brown streak, and +things began to move, and I moved with them. I suppose I swung my +foot,-probably my right one, though it may have been my left,--and then +I closed my eyes tight and waited for some one to kill me. Next thing I +knew, I was being killed--or I thought I thought I was, for a second. It +turned out, though, that the fellows weren't really killing me; they +were just beating me black and blue to show they were pleased. + +"Of course, it was all the biggest piece of luck that ever happened, +Ned. Hop aimed the ball just right, and somehow or other I managed to +kick it. Maybe any one would have done just as well, because I guess it +was an easy goal. Anyway, the honor of the Turners was safe!" + +"You're a regular brick," said Ned, a bit huskily. "What--what happened +afterward? I didn't stay." + +"Afterward Hop looked at me kind of queer and said, 'I guess that'll do +for you, Turner,' and I beat it away from there as fast as I knew how, +and Mulford sent in some other poor unfortunate. There were only half a +dozen plays after that, and we kicked whenever we got the ball." + +"Do you think any one but Hop found out?" asked Ned, anxiously. + +"Not a one. And I'm not sure, mind you, that Hop did. You see, he didn't +_say_ anything. Only, he did call me 'Nid' at first, and then 'Turner' +the next time. I haven't seen him since. I guess I never will know, +unless I ask him. One thing's sure, though, Ned, and that is that Hop +won't talk." + +"You don't think I'd ought to fess up?" asked Ned. + +"I do not," replied Laurie stoutly. "What's the good? It wasn't your +fault if you went to sleep out in the country. If any one's to blame, +it's me. I oughtn't to have hoaxed them. No, sir; if Mulford or any one +says anything, just you tell them you fell asleep and couldn't help +getting there late. But I don't believe any one will ask questions now. +They're all too pleased and excited. But, gee, Neddie! I certainly am +glad I made that goal instead of missing it. I'd be a pretty mean +feeling pup to-night if I hadn't!" + +"It was wonderful," mused Ned. "You putting it over, I mean. With all +that crowd looking on, and Farview shouting--" + +"Shouting? I didn't hear them. I didn't know whether there was any one +around just then! I had troubles of my own, partner! Know something? +Well, I think there's the chap who kicked that goal." Laurie raised his +right foot and displayed one of Ned's scuffed football shoes. "I guess I +just sort of left things to him and he did the business. Good old Mister +Shoe!" + +Ned jumped to his feet and pulled Laurie from the bed. "For the love of +lemons," he cried, "get those togs off before any one comes in!" + +"Gee, that's so!" Laurie worked feverishly, while Ned stumbled over a +chair and turned the key in the lock. + +"A fine pair of idiots we are!" exclaimed Ned, as he ripped Laurie's +shirt off for him. "Suppose Hop or Kewpie had come in while we were +sitting here!" + +Hillman's spent the rest of the evening in celebration. In the +dining-hall the appearance of any member of the squad was the signal for +hand-clapping and cheers, and when Ned entered, followed by Laurie, the +applause was deafening. Ned showed himself to be a very modest and +retiring hero, for he fairly scuttled to his seat, and kept his head +bent over his plate long after the applause had died away. Then, +stealing an unhappy glance at Laurie, he found that youth grinning +broadly, and was the recipient of a most meaningful wink. After supper, +in the corridor, the twins ran squarely into Hop Kendrick. Ned tried to +pull aside, but Laurie stood his ground. Hop was plainly a very happy +youth to-night, although even when happiest he never entirely lost his +look of earnest gravity. + +"Well, we did it, Nid!" he said joyfully, clapping that youth on the +shoulder. "That was a corking kick of yours, son!" + +Ned stammered something utterly unintelligible, but Laurie came to the +rescue: "Ned says it was the way you pointed the ball that won that +goal, Hop," he said casually. "He's mighty modest about it." + +Hop shot a quick glance at the speaker, and Ned declared afterward that +there was a smile behind it. But all he said was: "Oh, well, pointing +isn't everything, Nod. _Some one's_ got to kick it!" + +When he had gone on, Ned and Laurie viewed each other questioningly. +"Think he knows?" asked Ned. Laurie shook his head frowningly. "You've +got me, partner!" he answered. + +And, because neither asked Hop Kendrick outright, neither ever did know! + +There were songs and speeches and a general jollification after supper, +ending in a parade of cheering, singing youths who marched through the +town from end to end, and at last drew up outside Doctor Hillman's porch +and shouted until that gentleman appeared and responded. The Doctor's +words were few, but they hit the spot, and when there had been another +long cheer for him, and another long cheer for the team, and a final +mighty cheer for the school, the happy boys called it a day and sought +the dormitories. + +Ned was just dropping off to sleep that night when Laurie's voice +reached him through the darkness. + +"Ned!" called Laurie. + +"Huh?" + +"Are you awake?" + +"Uh-huh." + +"Listen. It's a fortunate thing to be a twin." + +There was a long moment of silence. Then Ned's voice came sleepily: + +"'Cause if one twin can't the other twin kin!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII--THE BOYS MAKE A PRESENT + + +The week or so succeeding the Farview game seemed like an anticlimax. +The bottom had sort of dropped out of things and there was no immediate +excitement to look forward to. The weather became as miserable as +weather possibly could, the slight snowfall that followed the rain of +Thanksgiving Day lasting only long enough to be seen by the early +risers. Perhaps it was well that lack of events and inclement weather +ruled, for Ned and a good many other boys in school were no worse for an +opportunity to apply themselves undisturbedly to their studies. +Basketball candidates were called the first Monday in December, and the +twins held a serious conference on the question of reporting. Ned, who +felt rather flat since there was no more football, was half inclined to +go in for the game, and would have had Laurie insisted. But Laurie voted +that for the present the Turners had done sufficient in the athletic +line, that the honor of the family demanded no further sacrifices on the +altar of duty. So Ned abandoned the idea and talked of trying for the +crew in the spring. + +When December was a week old, the fellows set their gaze on the +Christmas recess, which this year began on Wednesday, three days before +Christmas, and lasted until the 2d of January. Eleven days are not +sufficient to make a trip across the continent and back advisable, +although the twins figured that, with the best of fortune, they would be +able to reach Santa Lucia in time for dinner Christmas night. On the +other hand, the missing of one connection would delay their arrival +until the following afternoon, and, as Laurie pointed out, they were +fairly certain to be held up somewhere on the way, and a sleeping-car +wasn't exactly an ideal place in which to spend the holiday! Besides, +there was a noticeable lack of encouragement from home. It had been +accepted beforehand that the boys were to remain at the school during +the recess, and nothing in Mr. Turner's fortnightly letters hinted that +he had changed his mind. + +"I'd just as lief stay here, anyway," declared Ned. "We can have a lot +more fun. Maybe there'll be a bunch of snow, and I'm dying to try +skiing." + +"You bet! And skating, too! And then there's that other scheme. Mustn't +forget that, Neddie." + +"You mean--" + +"Yes. Didn't you say we'd do it during vacation?" + +"Sure! It--it'll take quite a lot of money, though, Laurie. And we'll +have presents to buy for Dad and Aunt Emmie and the cousins--" + +"The cousins get Christmas cards, and that's all they do get," +interrupted Laurie, decisively. "That's all they ever give us, and I'd +rather spend my money on something that'll really--really benefit some +one. I guess Dad'll send us some more money, too, for Christmas. We can +do it, all right. I've got nearly seven dollars right now. I haven't +spent hardly any money this month." + +"All right. Some day soon we'll go downtown and find out how much it's +going to cost and what we'll need and everything. I say, we can get Bob +to help us, too!" + +"Rather! And three or four other fellows, I guess. Every one likes the +Widow, and George says there will be five or six fellows here during +recess. He was here last year, and he says he had a dandy time." + +"Let's get George this afternoon and get the thing started. We can find +out the--the area and ask the man how much we'll need." + +"Sure! And we can buy it and store it at Bob's. Then all we'll have to +do will be carry it over the fence. I'll go down and see if I can find +him. Look here, Neddie. Why don't we do it before Christmas and make it +a sort of Christmas present? Say we worked hard all day Thursday and +Friday--" + +"Great! Only if it snowed--" + +Laurie's face fell. "Gee, that's so! I suppose we couldn't do it if it +snowed. Or rained. Or if it was frightfully cold." + +"They say it doesn't get real cold here until after New Year's," said +Ned, reassuringly. "But of course it might snow or rain. Well, we'll do +it in time for Christmas if we can. If we can't, we'll do it for New +Year's. I'll bet she'll be tickled to death. I say, though! We never +found out about the color!" + +"I did," answered Laurie modestly. "I asked Polly. She said white." + +"White! Geewhillikins, Laurie, that makes it harder, doesn't it? We'd +have to put on two coats!" + +"Think so?" Laurie frowned. "I guess we would. That would take twice as +long, eh? Look here; maybe--maybe I can get Polly to change her mind!" + +"That's likely, you chump!" Ned scowled thoughtfully. Finally, "I tell +you what," he said. "Suppose we went around there sometime, and talked +with Mrs. Deane, and told her how nice we think blue looks and how sort +of--of distinctive! Gee, it wouldn't be any trick at all to make it +blue; but white--" He shook his head despondently. + +"Cheer up!" said Laurie. "I've got the dope, partner! Listen. We'll tell +them that it ought to be blue because blue's the school color and all +that. Mrs. Deane thinks a heap of Hillman's, and she'll fall for it as +sure as shooting. So'll Polly! Come on! Let's find George and get the +thing started!" + +"Better get Bob to go with us, too. He said something about wanting to +pay his share of it, so we'd better let him in right from the start. +After all, we don't want to hog it, Laurie!" + +A fortnight later the exodus came. Of the four-score lads who lived at +Hillman's, all but eight took their departure that Wednesday morning, +and Ned and Laurie and George watched the last group drive off for the +station with feelings of genuine satisfaction. Life at school during the +eleven days of recess promised to be busy and enjoyable, and they were +eager to see the decks cleared, so to speak, and to start the new way of +living. Ned and Laurie had had plenty of invitations for Christmas week. +Both Kewpie and Lee Murdock had earnestly desired their society at their +respective homes, and there had been others less insistent but possibly +quite as cordial invitations. But neither one had weakened. George half +promised one of the boys to visit him for a few days after Christmas, +but later he canceled his acceptance. + +Besides George and the twins, there remained at school five other +fellows who, because they lived at a distance and railway fares were +high, or for other reasons, found it expedient to accept Doctor +Hillman's hospitality. None of the five, two juniors, one lower middler, +and two upper middlers, were known to the twins more than casually when +recess began; but eating together three times a day and being thrown in +one another's society at other times soon made the acquaintance much +closer, and all proved to be decent, likable chaps. + +Meals were served at a corner table in West Hall, and during recess +there were seldom fewer than three of the faculty present. That may +sound depressing, but in vacation-time an instructor becomes quite a +human, jovial person, and the scant dozen around the table enjoyed +themselves hugely. In the evening Doctor Hillman held open house, and +Miss Tabitha showed a genius for providing methods of entertainment. +Sometimes they popped corn in the fireplace in the cozy living-room, +sometimes they roasted apples. Once it was chestnuts that jumped on the +hearth. Then, too, Miss Tabitha was a past mistress in the art of making +fudge, and on two occasions Mr. Barrett, the mathematics instructor, +displayed such a sweet tooth that the boys lost the last of their awe +and "ragged" him without mercy. Several times the Doctor read aloud, +choosing, to the boys' surprise, a corking detective novel that had them +squirming on the edges of their chairs. Toward the last of the vacation, +Laurie confided to Ned and George that he wished recess was just +beginning. + +To Ned's and Laurie's great disappointment, neither snow nor ice +appeared and the weather remained merely briskly cold, with sometimes a +day like Indian summer. But I am getting ahead of my story, which really +comes to an end on Christmas Day. + +More than a week before the closing of school, the four conspirators had +finished their preparations for the task that was to provide the Widow +Deane with a novel Christmas present. In Bob's cellar were many cans +containing blue paint, white paint, linseed oil, and turpentine. There +were brushes there, too, and a scraper, and a roll of cotton rags +provided by Polly. For, in the end, it had become necessary to acquaint +Polly with the project. Against Bob's back fence reposed all the +ladders, of varying lengths, that the neighborhood afforded. Wednesday +evening Ned and Laurie and George herded the other boys into George's +room, and explained the scheme and asked for volunteers. They got five +most enthusiastic ones. + +Nine o'clock the next morning was set as the time for the beginning of +the work, and at that hour nine rather disreputably-attired youths +appeared in Mrs. Deane's yard, arriving by way of the back fence, and +began their assault. The first the Widow knew of what was happening was +when, being then occupied with the task of tidying up the sleeping-room +on the second floor, she was startled to see the head and shoulders of a +boy appear outside her window. Her exclamation of alarm gave place to +murmurs of bewilderment as the supposed burglar contented himself with +lifting the two shutters from their hinges and passing them down the +ladder to some unseen accomplice. Mrs. Deane looked forth. In the garden +was what at first glimpse looked like a convention of tramps. They were +armed with ladders and brushes and pots of paint, and they were already +very busy. Across two trestles set on the grass plot, the stolen +shutters were laid as fast as they were taken down. One boy, flourishing +a broad-bladed implement, scraped the rough surfaces. A second plied a +big round brush, dusting diligently. Numbers three and four, as soon as +the first two operatives retired, attacked with brushes dripping with +white paint. In almost no time at all the first shutter was off the +trestles and leaning, fresh and spotless, against the fence. Every +instant another shutter appeared. Mrs. Deane gazed in fascinated +amazement. One after another, she recognized the miscreants: the two +Turner boys, George Watson, Mr. Starling's son, Hal Goring, the Stanton +boy, and the rest; but, although recognition brought reassurance, +bewilderment remained, and she hurried downstairs as fast as ever she +could go. + +Polly was on the back porch, a very disturbed and somewhat indignant +Towser in her arms, evidently a party to the undertaking, and to her +Mrs. Deane breathlessly appealed. + +"Polly! What are they doing?" she gasped. + +"You'll have to ask the boys, Mama." Polly's eyes were dancing. "Nid, +here's Mama, and she wants to know what you're doing!" + +Nid hurried up, a dripping brush in one hand and a smear of white paint +across one cheek, followed by Laurie. The others paused at their various +tasks to watch smilingly. + +"Painting the house, Mrs. Deane!" + +"Painting the house! My house? Why--why--what--who--" + +"Yes'm. There's the blue paint. It's as near like the old as we could +find. You don't think it's too dark, do you?" + +"But I don't understand, Nid Turner!" said Mrs. Deane helplessly. "Who +told you to? Who's going to pay for it?" + +"It's all paid for, ma'am. It--it's a sort of Christmas present from +us--from the school. You--you don't mind, do you?" + +"Well, I never did!" Mrs. Deane looked from Ned to Laurie, her mouth +quivering. "I--I don't know what to say. I guess I'll--I'll go see if +any one's--in the shop, Polly. Did you think you--heard the bell?" Mrs. +Deane's eyes were frankly wet as she turned hurriedly away and +disappeared inside. Ned viewed Polly anxiously. + +"Do you think she--doesn't like it?" he half whispered. + +Polly shook her head and laughed softly, although her own eyes were not +quite dry. "Of course she likes it, you stupid boy! She just didn't know +what to say. She'll be back pretty soon, after she's had a little cry." + +"Oh!" said Ned and Laurie in chorus, their faces brightening; and Laurie +added apologetically: "Gee, we didn't want to make her cry, Polly!" + +"That sort of a cry doesn't hurt," said Polly. + +Afterward Mrs. Deane said a great deal, and said it very sweetly, and +the boys got more or less embarrassed, and were heartily glad when she +drew Ned to her and kissed him, much to that youth's distress, and the +incident ended in laughter. By noon the shutters were done, and nine +industrious amateur painters were swarming over the back of the little +house. I'm not going to tell you that the job was done as perfectly as +Sprague and Currie, Painters and Paper-hangers, would have done it, but +you're to believe that it was done much quicker and at a far greater +saving of money! And when it was finished no one except a professional +would ever have known the difference. Perhaps there was more blue and +white paint scattered around the landscape than was absolutely +necessary, and it always remained a mystery how Antoinette managed to +get her right ear looking like a bit of Italian sky, for every one +professed ignorance and Antoinette was apparently well protected from +spatters. (It took Polly more than a week to restore the rabbit to her +original appearance.) + +When the early winter twilight fell and it became necessary to knock off +work for the day, the blue painting was more than half done and, unless +weather prevented, it was certain that the entire task would be finished +by to-morrow evening. Mrs. Deane served five-o'clock tea,--only it +happened to be four-o'clock tea instead,--and nine very, very hungry +lads did full justice to the repast, and the little room behind the +store held a merry party. Perhaps the prevailing odor of paint detracted +somewhat from Mrs. Deane's and Polly's enjoyment of the refreshments, +but you may be certain they made no mention of the fact. + +That night the boys viewed the cloudy sky apprehensively. Laurie, who +knew little about it, declared dubiously that it smelt like snow. But +when morning came, although the cloudiness persisted most of the day, +the weather remained kindly, with just enough frost in the air to chill +feet and nip idle fingers and to give an added zest to labor. Very +little time was wasted on luncheon, and at two o'clock the last slap of +blue paint had been applied and the more difficult work of doing the +white trim began. Fortunately, there were only eleven windows and two +doors, and although "drawing" the sashes was slow and finicking work, +with nine willing hands hard at it the end came shortly after dusk, +when, watched by eight impatient companions, young Haskell, one of the +junior class boys, with trembling fingers drew his brush along the last +few inches of a front window, and then, because he was quite keyed up +and because it was much too dark to see well, celebrated the culmination +of his efforts by putting a foot squarely into a can of white paint! + +When first-aid methods had been applied, he was allowed, on promise to +put only one foot to the floor, to accompany the rest inside and +announce to a delighted and slightly tremulous Mrs. Deane that the work +was completed. There was a real celebration then, with more piping-hot +tea and lots of perfectly scrumptious cream-puffs,--besides less +enticing bread-and-butter sandwiches,--and Mrs. Deane tried hard to +thank the boys and couldn't quite do it, and Polly failed almost as +dismally, and Laurie made a wonderful speech that no one understood very +well, except for the general meaning, and nine flushed and very happy +youths cheered long and loudly for Mrs. Deane, and finally departed +merrily into the winter twilight, calling back many a "Merry Christmas" +as they went. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII--THE SECRET PASSAGE + + +Christmas Day dawned clear and mild, a green Christmas if ever there was +one. And yet, in spite of the absence of such traditional accompaniments +as snow and ice, the spirit of the season was there in abundance. Ned +and Laurie, wakening early to the sound of church bells, felt Christmasy +right from the first conscious moment. When they hastened down the hall +for their baths, they could hear George and Hal Goring on the floor +below uniting in what they fondly believed was song. Later, at +breakfast, beside a perfectly wonderful repast in which chicken and +little crisp sausages and hot, crisp waffles played leading roles, the +Doctor and Miss Tabitha had placed at each plate a Christmas card tied +by a tiny blue ribbon to a diminutive painter's brush! Later on there +was to be a tree in the Doctor's living-room. In fact, the tree was +already there, and the boys had spent much of the preceding evening +trimming it and placing around its base inexpensive gifts of a joking +nature for one another and the Doctor and Miss Tabitha and the two +instructors who were there. + +Laurie and Ned had exchanged presents with each other and had received +several from home, not the least welcome of which was a check from their +father. And they had bought small gifts for George and Bob. Also, though +you needn't tell it around school, Laurie had purchased a most +odoriferous and ornate bottle of perfume for Polly! So when, shortly +after breakfast, Ned suggested that Laurie take Bob's present over to +him, Laurie evinced entire willingness to perform the errand. That he +carried not one gift but two in his pockets was, however, beyond Ned's +knowledge. A cheerful whistling from the back of the house drew Laurie +past the front entrance, and he found Bob, attired in any but festal +garments, swinging open the bulkhead doors. A pair of old gray trousers +and a disreputable brown sweater formed most of his costume. At sight of +Laurie he gave a joyful whoop. + +"Merry Christmas!" he called. "I was going over to see you in a minute. +Thomas is in bed with a cold or something, and I'm furnace-man and +general factotle--" + +"Factotum, you mean," laughed Laurie. + +"All right! As you fellows say, what do I care? I don't own it. Now +you're here, you can just give me a hand with this load of junk. Dad +says it doesn't look shipshape for Christmas." Bob indicated more than a +dozen paint-cans, empty, partly empty, or unopened, and a mess of +brushes, paddles, and rags that they had set there last evening. "I +suppose a lot of these might as well be thrown away, but we'll dump the +whole caboodle down in the cellar for now." + +"All right," agreed Laurie. "First, though, here's something that Ned +and I thought you might like. It isn't anything much, you know, Bob; +just a--a trinket." + +"For me?" Bob took the little packet, and removed the paper and then the +lid, disclosing a pair of silver cuff-links lying in a nest of +cotton-wool. As Laurie said, they weren't much, but they were neat and +the jeweler had made a very good job of the three plain block letters, +R. D. S., that he had engraved on them. "Gee, they're corking!" +exclaimed Bob, with unmistakable sincerity. "I needed them, too, Nod. I +lost one of a pair just the other day, and--" + +"I know you did. That's why we got those." + +"Well, I'm awfully much obliged. They're great. I've got a couple of +little things upstairs for you chaps. They aren't nearly so nice as +these, but I'll get 'em--" + +"Wait till we finish this job," said Laurie. "Grab a handful and come +on. Is Thomas very sick?" + +"I guess not," replied Bob, as he followed the other down the steps. "He +ate some breakfast, but aunt thought he'd better stay in bed. I had a +great time with the furnace this morning. Got up at half-past six and +shoveled coal to beat the band!" + +"Where do you want to put these?" asked Laurie. + +"Anywhere, I guess. Hold on; let's dump 'em on the shelves in the closet +there. Then they'll be out of the way. Some day we'll clean the cans all +out, and maybe we'll get enough to paint that arbor we're going to +build. Here you are." + +Bob led the way to a small room built against the rear wall of the big +cellar. Designed for a preserve closet, its shelves had probably long +been empty of aught save dust, and the door, wide open, hung from one +hinge. It was some six feet broad and perhaps five feet deep, built of +matched boards. Before Bob entered the cobwebby doorway with his load of +cans, its only contents were an accumulation of empty preserve-jars in a +wooden box set on the cement floor beneath a lower shelf at the back. +There were eight shelves across the rear wall, divided in the center by +a vertical board into two tiers. Bob placed his load on a lower shelf +and Laurie put his on the shelf above. As he drew away he noticed that +the shelf appeared to have worked out from the boards at the back, and +he gave it a blow on the edge with the flat of one hand. It slipped back +into place, but, to his surprise, it came forward again an inch or two, +and all the other shelves in that tier came with it! + +"Hey!" said Laurie, startled. + +Bob, at the doorway, turned. "What's the matter?" he asked. + +"Nothing, only--" Laurie took hold of the shelf above the loosened one +and pulled. It yielded a little, and so did the other shelves and the +rear wall of the cubicle, but it was only a matter of less than an inch. +Bob, at his side, looked on interestedly. + +"That's funny," he said. "Push on it." + +Laurie pushed, and the tier went back a couple of inches. "Looks like +this side was separate from the rest," said Laurie. "What's the idea of +having it come out like that?" + +"Search me!" answered Bob. "Pull it toward you again and let me have a +look." A second later he exclaimed: "The whole side is loose, Nod, but +it can't come out because the ends of the shelves strike this partition +board! Try it again!" Laurie obeyed, moving the tier back and forth +three or four times as far as it would go. Bob shook his head in +puzzlement, his gaze roving around the dim interior. Then, "Look here," +he said. "The shelves on the side aren't on a level with the back ones, +Nod." + +"What of it?" + +"Nothing, maybe; only, if the back swung out the side shelves wouldn't +stop it! See what I mean?" + +"Not exactly. Anyhow, it doesn't swing out, so what's the--" + +"Hold on!" Bob sprang forward and seized the edge of a shelf in the +right-hand tier close to the partition board, and pulled. It readily +yielded an inch, but no more. + +"Wait!" Laurie bent and pulled aside the box of jars. "Now!" + +Then, as Bob tugged, to their amazement the right-hand tier swung toward +them, its lower edge scraping on the cement floor, and the left-hand +tier swung with it, the whole back wall of the closet, shelves and all, +opening toward them like a pair of double doors! + +"Gee!" whispered Laurie. "What do you suppose--" + +"Pull them wide open and let's find out," said Bob recklessly. + +When the two sides were open as far as they would go, there was an +aperture between them some three feet wide. Beyond it was darkness, +though, as they gazed, the stones of the cellar wall took shape dimly. +Then Laurie seized Bob's arm. + +"Look!" he whispered excitedly. Behind, where the left-hand tier of +shelves had stood, was a blacker patch about three feet high by two feet +wide, which, as they stared in fascination, evolved itself into an +opening in the wall. + +"Know what I think?" asked Bob, in low tones. "I think we've found the +miser's hiding-place, Nod!" + +"Honest? Maybe it's just a--a drain or something. Got a match?" + +"There are some over by the furnace. Hold your horses!" Bob hurried out, +and was back in a moment and was standing at the opening between the +doors with a lighted match held toward the opening in the wall. As the +little light grew they saw that the stones of the wall had been removed +from a space of a foot above the floor and three feet high and some two +feet wide. Around the opening so made cement had been applied in the +form of a smooth casing. + +The match flickered and went out, and in the succeeding gloom the two +boys stared at each other with wide eyes. + +"Would you dare go in there?" asked Laurie. + +"Sure! Why not? It can't be anything but a sort of cave underground. +Wait till I get a candle." + +"A lantern would be better," suggested Laurie, viewing the hole +dubiously. + +"That's so, and there's one here somewhere. I noticed it the other day." +Bob's voice came from the cellar beyond, and Laurie heard him walking +around out there. Then, "I've got it!" Bob called. "There's oil in it, +too! Now we'll have a look!" + +Laurie heard the chimney of the lantern squeak as it was forced up and +then drop into place again. Then a wan light came toward the closet, and +Bob appeared, triumphant and excited. "Wait till I turn it up a bit. +There we are! Come on!" + +They passed through between the doors, Bob leading, and stooped before +the hole in the wall. Bob held the lantern inside, and Laurie peered +over his shoulder. "Gee, it's high," whispered the latter. + +"Yes, and it isn't a cave at all; it's a tunnel!" said Bob, in awed +tones. "What do you say?" + +"I'll go, if you will," replied Laurie, stoutly; and without much +enthusiasm Bob ducked his head and crawled through. Past the two-foot +wall was a passage, more than head-high and about a yard in width, stone +walled and arched, that led straight ahead farther than the light of the +lantern penetrated. The walls were dry, but the earthen floor was damp +to the touch. There was a musty odor, though the air in there seemed +fresh. + +"Where do you suppose it goes to?" asked Bob, in a hushed voice. + +"I can't imagine. But it runs straight back from the cellar, and so it +must pass under the garden. Let's--let's go on, Bob." + +"Sure! Only I thought we were going to find old Coventry's treasure!" + +"How do you know we aren't?" asked Laurie. + +"That's so! Maybe he buried it under the garden." Their footfalls +sounded clearly on the hard-packed earth floor as they went ahead. +Suddenly Bob, in the lead, uttered an exclamation, and Laurie jumped a +foot and then hurried forward to where the other was standing. Beside +him, its point buried in the floor of the tunnel, was the lost crowbar! + +"What do you know?" gasped Bob. "We're under the farther end of the +arbor. That bar came through between those stones up here." He touch the +crevice in the arched roof with a finger. "See the dirt it brought down +with it? Well, that explains that mystery!" + +"Yes, but--where does this thing go to, Bob?" + +"Let's find out. It can't go much farther, because the arbor was only +about forty feet from the back fence." + +But they went that forty feet and perhaps forty more before the wavering +light of the lantern showed them a stout wooden door across their path. +Formed of two-inch planking and strengthened with three broad cleats, it +was hinged to a frame of concrete. It wasn't a big door, but it looked +very formidable to the two boys who stood there and viewed it dubiously +in the yellow glare of the lantern; for a big square iron lock held it +firmly in place. + +"Guess we don't go any farther," said Bob, dryly. + +"Maybe the key's here somewhere," Laurie suggested; and, although Bob +scoffed at the suggestion, they searched thoroughly but without success. + +"We could bust it," Bob said; "only maybe we haven't any right to." + +"I don't see why not, Bob. We discovered it. Let's!" + +"We-ell, but one of us'll have to go for a hammer or something." + +"Sure; I'll go." + +"And leave me here in the dark? I guess not!" + +"We'll both go, then. Hold on! What's the matter with the crowbar?" + +"Of course! I never thought of that! I'll fetch it!" The light receded +down the tunnel until it was small and dim, and Laurie, left alone in +front of the mysterious portal, felt none too happy. Of course there was +nothing to be afraid of, but he was awfully glad when the light drew +nearer again and Bob returned. "You hold this," directed Bob, "and I'll +give it a couple of whacks." + +Laurie took the lantern, and Bob brought the bar down smartly on the +lock. Probably it was old and rusty, for it broke into pieces under the +blow, and in another instant they had thrust the heavy bolt back. Then +Bob took a long breath and pulled the door toward them. The hinges +squeaked loudly, startlingly, in the silence. Before them lay darkness, +and Laurie, leaning past the doorway, raised the lantern high. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV--A MERRY CHRISTMAS + + +"Guess Laurie got lost," grumbled Ned, kicking one foot against the step +and looking across the yard. + +George laughed. "Guess you could find him if you went as far as the +Widow's, Nid." + +"Well, he ought to be back. It's nearly time for the tree, isn't it?" +Characteristically, Ned saved himself the trouble of determining the +matter for himself, and it was George who looked at his watch. + +"There's 'most an hour yet. Let's go and have a look for him. He and Bob +are probably at Polly's." + +But they didn't get as far as Polly's just then, for when they reached +the corner they descried Laurie tearing along the side yard of the +Coventry place. At sight of them he moderated his speed slightly and +began to shout, waving both hands in a quite demented manner. + +"What's he saying?" asked George. "What's wrong?" + +"Wants us to hurry," grumbled Ned. "We are hurrying, you idiot!" he +continued, raising his voice. But he hurried faster, George at his +heels, and met Laurie at the front gate. + +"What's your trouble?" he demanded. "House on fire? Bob got the croup? +What is it? Can't you talk?" + +"Can't tell you," panted Laurie. "You've got to see--for yourself! Come +on!" + +He seized Ned by one arm, and pulled him away and around the house and +down the bulkhead steps, George loping after them. In the cellar stood +Bob, disreputable in his old clothes and adorned with dust and cobwebs, +a lighted lantern in one hand. + +"Has he told you?" he cried, as the others piled down the stairs. + +"Told me? He hasn't told anything," gasped Ned, shaking himself free at +last. "What is it?" + +Bob laughed loudly and gleefully. "Then come on!" he shouted. He dashed +into the preserve closet, Ned, George, and Laurie at his heels, passed +from sight for an instant, and was seen again crawling through a hole in +the wall. Ned and George showered questions as they pattered along the +tunnel, but all they received in reply was insane laughter and a +meaningless, breathless jumble of words. And then they were at the +farther portal, and Bob led the way through, and they followed. + +They found themselves in a small cellar-like compartment scarcely four +paces square. It was windowless, although, close to the raftered ceiling +in the rear wall, two oblongs of brick set in the stone showed where at +some time small windows had been. The floor was paved with flat stones. +In one corner, the only objects there, were a small iron chest, its lid +swung open and back, and a crowbar. The newcomers stared in amazement, +the truth slowly dawning on them. It was Laurie who spoke first. + +"Go and look!" he said excitedly. + +Ned and George obeyed. Within the chest lay four fat, heavy brownish +envelopes, bound and tied with pink tape. + +"Take one out and open it," said Bob over Ned's shoulder. + +Ned picked up one. Across one end was written in scrawly characters the +inscription "Gov't." + +"'Government,'" explained Laurie, softly. "It's full of United States +bonds. Nearly a dozen of them. Have a look." + +"Geewhillikins!" breathed Ned, in awe, as he drew the folded contents +into the light. "Old Coventry's, do you mean?" + +"Of course! Whose else? And there are three more lots. We haven't +figured them up yet, but there must be fifty thousand dollars' worth!" + +"Maybe they're no good," offered George. + +"How do you mean, no good?" asked Ned indignantly. "United States bonds +are always good!" + +"Well, the others--" + +"They're railroad bonds, all of them, three different lots," said Bob. +"I guess they're all right, too, don't you, Ned?" + +"Right as rain! Why, the old codger--What's that?" he asked suddenly, +looking ceiling-ward. Laurie laughed. + +"That's what we wondered," he answered. "We jumped when we heard it +first. Don't you know where you are?" + +Ned looked around him and shook his head. + +"Under the Widow Deane's house!" + +"Wha-at! But Polly said there wasn't any cellar!" + +"She doesn't know any better. Look above you. See where the stairway +went? The old chap must have torn it away and boarded the hole up; and +bricked up the windows, too. It must have cost him a pretty penny to do +all this!" + +"What--what are you going to do with it?" asked George, pointing to the +chest. + +"Why, hand it over to the lawyers, whoever they are, I suppose," +answered Bob. "But first of all we're going to take those bonds and dump +them into the Widow's lap. I always said I'd hand it all over to her, +when I found it. I never thought I would find it, but I have--or Laurie +has, because if he hadn't noticed that the shelves were loose we never +would--" + +"Besides," interrupted George, "she comes in for a share of the money. +Come on, fellows! Let's do it now! Gee, it will be some Christmas +present!" + +"Won't it? Let's each one take a package," said Laurie. "We'll leave +everything just as it is for the lawyer folks. Come on!" + +"Say, fellows, there's an awfully funny smell down here," observed +George. "Sort of--sort of sweet, like--like violets or something. Notice +it?" + +"Yes, I noticed it before I got in here, though," said Ned. "Wonder what +it is." + +"Oh, places like this get to smelling funny after they've been shut up +for a while," said Bob. "And I guess this place hasn't been opened for +two years, eh?" + +"Of course not; not since old Coventry died. Just the same, it's a +mighty funny odor." And George sniffed again perplexedly. Laurie, who +had withdrawn to the door, unconsciously placed a hand in one jacket +pocket, where, within a crushed cardboard box, some fragments of glass +were all that remained of Polly's present! In prying open the lid of the +chest he had brought the end of the crowbar against that pocket, and now +the purchase was only a memory, albeit a fragrant one. + +Some three minutes later four flushed-faced and very joyous youths burst +into the Widow Deane's shop. To the jangling of the little bell in the +back room Polly appeared, a very pretty, bright-eyed Polly this morning +in a new Christmas dress. + +"Merry Christmas!" she cried. "Merry Christmas, Nid! Merry Christmas, +Bob! Merry Christmas, George! Merry Christmas, Nod!" + +Perhaps Laurie should have felt hurt that his own greeting had come +last; but he wasn't, for a glance went with it that hadn't accompanied +the others. But, although the boys answered the greetings in chorus, it +was apparent to Polly that they were there for another purpose than to +wish her a Merry Christmas. + +"Where's your mother!" demanded Bob. + +"In there." Polly pointed to the back room, and without ceremony the +four filed past and into the little living-room. Mrs. Deane was seated +in a rocker, her spectacles pushed down on her nose, a paper across her +knees, and her eyes fixed in smiling inquiry on the doorway. + +Bob led the way. On the outspread paper he laid a brown envelop. "Wish +you a Merry Christmas, ma'am," he said. + +Laurie followed, deposited his envelop beside Bob's, repeated the +greeting, and drew aside to make way for Nod and George. The Widow +looked inquiringly from the stout envelops to the boys, smiling +tolerantly the while. Boys were always up to pranks, and she liked them, +boys and pranks both! + +"What are these?" she asked, finally, when the fourth envelop lay in her +lap. + +Polly, looking over her shoulder, gasped as she read the writing on one +of the packets, and her eyes, as round as round, looked across at +Laurie. + +"_Nod! They aren't--You haven't--_" + +"Yes, they are!" cried Laurie. "Look and see for yourself! Open them, +Mrs. Deane!" + + * * * * * + +Ten minutes later, when the first excitement had somewhat subsided, +Polly clapped her hands. + +"Why," she cried, "now we know what those sounds were we used to hear, +Mama! They were Uncle Peter down there in the cellar! They were his +footsteps! And only a little while ago I thought I heard sounds sort of +like them! And that must have been you boys!" + +"Of course," agreed Bob. "And we could hear you folks up here quite +plainly. There goes my last hope of catching a ghost!" + +"How many are there to share in the money, Mrs. Deane?" asked George. + +"Dear me, I'm not quite sure." She looked inquiringly over her +spectacles at Polly. "Weren't there seven, dear?" + +"Eight, Mama." + +"Well, even then it isn't so bad" said George. "One eighth of +sixty-two-thousand--" + +"Seven thousand seven hundred and fifty," announced Laurie, promptly. +"And the bonds may be worth more than we figured, ma'am!" + +"Well, I'm sure," answered Mrs. Deane, "seven thousand dollars is seven +times more money than I ever expected to see! I shan't know what to do +with it." She looked quite alarmed and helpless for a moment, but Polly +patted her shoulder reassuringly. + +"You must invest it, dearest, and then you won't have to keep this place +any longer, because when I go to work--" + +But, instead of vanishing, the Widow Deane's alarm increased. "Oh, I +couldn't give up the store, Polly!" she gasped. "Why--why, what would I +do with myself all day?" + +"Yes'm that's so!" declared Ned, heartily. "Gee, you couldn't do that! +Why, we wouldn't have any place to buy cream-puffs!" + +"I guess I would keep on with the store," Mrs. Deane concluded, when the +laughter had subsided. "I'm afraid I'd never be very happy if I didn't +have you boys around. Well, it's certainly very wonderful, isn't it, +Polly?" + +"It's--it's heavenly!" declared Polly. "This is just the most beautiful +Christmas there ever was or ever will be! And I don't see how we can +ever thank you all for finding--" + +"Gosh!" exclaimed Laurie. "The Doctor's tree, fellows! We'll have to +beat it! We'll leave the bonds here until to-morrow--eh?" + +"But I want to see the tunnel and--and everything!" cried Polly. + +"That's so! We'll come over after dinner. Come on, fellows! Neddie, come +away from those tarts!" + +"I was only looking," sighed Ned. + +Mrs. Deane and Polly went with them to the door. Down the street the +deep-toned bell in the Congregational church was ringing, and, farther +away, other bells were joining in a chorus of glad triumph. Mrs. Deane, +listening, held a very happy look in her face. On the sidewalk, Ned and +Laurie dropped behind their companions, paused, and faced the doorway. +There was a quick exchange of glances between them, and then, bowing, +Ned began and Laurie finished: + + "A Merry Christmas and well-filled bins," + "Is the hearty wish of the Turner Twins!" + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Turner Twins, by Ralph Henry Barbour + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TURNER TWINS *** + +***** This file should be named 37209-8.txt or 37209-8.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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