CHAPTER IX
To the surprise of the happy four, they found the other boys and girls awaiting them, and Fred was subjected to merry bantering for his remissness in not being at home to welcome his friends.
"I didn't know you were coming to spend theafternoon," he laughed in return, gazing significantly toward the clock whose hands pointed to ten minutes before seven.
"My, but isn't he the stickler for form," commented Sandow. "Does your majesty wish us to go out and wait until seven and then come in?"
"I told Mr. Hill I thought we would be too early," interposed Bronson apologetically.
"You mustn't mind Fred, Mr. Bronson," quickly exclaimed Mrs. Markham. "When you are better acquainted with him, you will know, he is always joking. Besides, supper is ready, so, as you are all here, we can begin just as soon as Fred makes himself presentable."
Flushing at this reminder of his uncouth appearance, the lad made his excuses and started for his room.
"You'remorethan forgiven," smiled Sallie Ayres, and from this remark the boy realized that the result of the affair with Bart had been made known to his mother and guests.
No sooner had Fred left the room than the girls offered to assist Mrs. Markham in placing the food on the table.
"I say, Mrs. Markham, isn't there something we fellows can do, too?" asked Sandow, following the girls to the kitchen. "We don't want to be left in there alone."
"Let's make them put on aprons and wait on the table," suggested Dorothy.
But Mrs. Markham laughingly protested, and so the boys were forced to content themselves with watching the preparations.
"Oh, I wish we had something funny to put at Fred's plate," exclaimed Margie, when the food was on the table. "Haven't you anything you can think of, Mrs. Markham?"
"Dear me, I don't believe I have," replied the youth's mother, after a moment's reflection.
"Bronson's got something," announced Sandow. "He made me wait for him on the way over."
Expectantly the eyes of the others were turned upon their new schoolmate.
"Oh, what is it?" cried Margie eagerly.
"I'm afraid it's rather silly," apologized Bronson.
"Never mind. Do hurry and show us before Fred comes," urged Grace.
Blushing profusely, Bronson put his hand in his pocket, drew forth a paper bag and handed it to Mrs. Markham.
"Quick! Quick!" breathed the others, clustering around her, eager to see the contents.
"O-oh! it's a candy Teddy Bear!" exclaimed Sallie.
"Fine!" chuckled Buttons. "Here, Mrs. Markham, please let me have that bag. Sandow, you get a match."
Taking the bag, the boy tore out a small piece of paper, hastily wrote on it, "You're all to the candy," thrust the match through the paper, set the Teddy Bear on Fred's plate and then fixed the match in its arms in such a way as to give the effect of a banner.
"But what does that expression mean?" asked Mrs. Markham, to whom the slang was as so much Sanskrit.
"It means Fred's all right," interpreted Sandow. "Now, come away, I hear him."
With hurried steps, the young people made their way to the other end of the table, which they reached just as the fair-haired boy entered the room.
"What's up? Why are you all in here?" Fred inquired, looking from one to another of his friends.
"The girls wanted to help me put the supper on the table and Sandow and Buttons could not bear to be separated from Sallie and Grace for so long," smiled Mrs. Markham.
"I can understand that," returned Fred. "But there's something else. Every one of you has a guilty expression."
"Hungry, you mean," corrected Buttons. "For pity's sake, take your seat and don't keep us waiting any longer. My mouth's been watering for some of Mrs. Markham's pumpkin pie ever since I was asked to supper. Bronson, I told you this morning, you ought to let us select your boarding place for you. Mrs. Markham's the best cook in Baxter. That's why Fred always looks so sleek and superior."
Pleased and laughing at the boyish compliment, Fred's mother bade them be seated.
So intent was the fair-haired boy in assisting Margie, that it was several moments before he noticed his own plate.
"WELL, OF ALL THINGS," HE EXCLAIMED
"WELL, OF ALL THINGS," HE EXCLAIMED
"WELL, OF ALL THINGS," HE EXCLAIMED
"Well, of all things!" he exclaimed, as his eyes rested on the sugared sweetmeat. Then, as he caught sight of the inscription, he added, recognizing the writing: "Buttons, I know it was your diffidence in company that prevented you giving this to Grace. So permit me to do so for you.
"You see, I know both their characteristics and sentiments, Bronson," added their tormentor, as he set the candy bear, with its banner, beside Grace's plate.
Merrily the others laughed, while the boy and girl most concerned blushed furiously.
"Just you wait, Cotton-Top," growled Buttons. But the threat was accepted as the jest it was meant to be.
Healthy young people all, the evident relish with which they ate bore eloquent testimony to the savoriness of Mrs. Markham's cooking.
"Now, go into the other room and amuse yourselves," said the happy woman, when the meal was finished. But the young people refused, declaring they would wash and wipe the dishes, which they did, despite Mrs. Markham's protest.
With games, singing and dancing, the evening quickly passed and, all too soon, the clock struck ten.
"Oh, dear, it seems as though I'd only just come," sighed Margie.
"Never mind, there'll be other nights," laughed Sandow.
"Yes, indeed. I hope you'll all come around often," smiled Mrs. Markham.
"Oh, wouldn't it be jolly to form a supper club," exclaimed Dorothy. "Just we eight. We can take turns meeting at each other's house, once a week."
Enthusiastically the others received the idea. To Mrs. Markham, however, the suggestion was alarming, for she realized that it would tax her already straitened circumstances severely, were she obliged to provide supper for eight young people, even as often as once in two months.
"I think once in two weeks would be often enough," she proposed.
"Yes, I think that would be better," agreed Margie, divining the reason. "Mother said that I must give more attention to my music, if I wanted to keep on with it, and evenings are the only time to practice that I have."
"Then, we'll make it every two weeks," declared Fred, with a promptness that evoked laughter from the others.
"As I suggested the idea, I invite you all to my house for the next meeting," said Dorothy; and after bidding their hostess "Good-night," the young people discussed the club as they walked home.
All their homes were in the center of the village, save Margie's, for which she and Fred had usually been glad. Indeed, as he walked along, the boy was anticipating the pleasure of being alone with the girl of his choice—when they were all startled to hear hurried footsteps behind them.
"Look out for tricks," whispered Buttons. "This is hazing night."
Quickly each boy braced himself to shield, to the best of his ability, the girl he was escorting.
Suddenly, the footsteps seemed to stop. Puzzled, the boys looked at one another.
"There they go, on the grass next the road!" exclaimed Buttons excitedly.
Quickly the others turned, but so heavy were the shadows, that they were unable to distinguish the forms.
"How many did you see?" queried Sandow.
"Six."
"Recognize any of 'em?"
"Too dark."
The presence of six boys, who evidently did not wish to allow their faces to be seen, on the street so late suggested but one idea to all of the young people—that Bart was planning to waylay his rival, as he returned from taking Margie home.
"H'm. Guess we'll all walk home with you, Margie," observed Sandow.
The girl, however, had been doing some rapid thinking.
"Oh, I'm not going home to-night," she exclaimed, giving her chum's arm a significant pinch as she spoke, "I'm going to stay with Grace."
"What did you want to scare Marg for, Sandow?" snapped Fred, in none too pleasant a tone.
"He didn't scare me," flashed the girl. But in her heart she knew that only fear for Fred would have persuaded her not to go home.
"Your mother will be worried," asserted the boy.
"I'll telephone her."
All the others were relieved at this solution of the difficulty, for they were fond of Fred, and they understood, all too well, the significance of their being followed.
"Why won't all you girls stay at my house to-night?" asked Grace. "Sister's away, so there'll be plenty of room. You can telephone, you know."
For a moment, Sallie hesitated. But a nudge from Sandow caused her to acquiesce.
This arrangement decided upon, the young people resumed their way.
After leaving the girls at Grace's home, the boys walked to the Vinings' with Bronson, and then started back.
But not more than ten yards had they walked from the gate, when they heard a hoarse cry:
"Here they come!"