CHAPTER XV
So eager was Fred to write his father about Mr. Bronson's change of front, that he actually grudged the time necessary to escort Margie home, and several times he hurried her so fast that at last she poutingly suggested he let her go by herself if he were so anxious to get back to his study.
"It isn't that, Marg," he explained contritely. "I've got some news for father that will please him more than almost anything he could hear."
Then, acting on impulse, he related the incident of his father's visit to the famous lawyer, the latter's refusal to handle the case, and the development of the evening.
"And all this time, knowing his father's action, you've been kind and courteous to that Clothespin? I never heard anything so fine," breathed the girl proudly. But though her admiration of his attitude toward his classmate was sincere, it was the realization that Fred had once again restored her to his confidence, as indicated by his telling her of the Bronson matter, that made the girl most happy.
Bitterly she reproached herself for having by her manner added to the boy's suffering, and eagerly she strove to make amends.
"Remember what you asked me the day we quarrelled?" she exclaimed, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.
"Do I remember? Well, I should say I did. I've gone over our talk two or three times a day to see what I had said that could give you offense."
"You foolish boy! It was all my fault, and—and now I want you to ask me again."
"So you can pick another quarrel?"
"Don't be silly. I was just a jealous little goose. I might have known it was only your consideration for others that led you to speak of Alice as you did."
This confession gave both the young people happiness, and it was much later than even Fred had supposed when he returned to his home, and, going to his room, wrote the tidings to his father that were destined to effect great changes.
At the cheery greetings with which Fred hailed them the next morning, his schoolmates were first amazed, then delighted, and by the time classes were over all memories and bitterness caused by the breach were healed over and forgotten.
Indeed, so delighted were the Seconds to recognize in the boy the jolly companion of old, that Taffy even asked Fred to go to the campus to coach the back field of the Form team.
"But Bart might not like it," objected the boy, though the light in his eyes showed his eagerness to place the benefit of his experience at the service of the eleven.
"Sure he will. He'll be tickled to death," insisted Taffy. "Only last night he told me he'd give anything if there was only some way you could be persuaded to play. Between you and me, Buttons is fierce."
"Well, I can't play," sighed Fred. "But I'll do this much—I'll take Buttons in hand, if you think that will help."
"That'll be the next best thing to having you in the line-up," declared the boy joyfully, and he hurried away to carry to the desponding captain and his coterie the tidings of Fred's agreement to coach Buttons.
And Bart needed assistance. There were not enough of his clique to fill all the positions on the eleven, and he had been obliged to draft some of his rival's followers. In consequence, there had been a lack of harmony, which the rich bully did not have the characteristics to stamp out; and to make matters worse, the Lower Formers, having overheard some of the Firsts discussing the prospects of the Second eleven, openly declared Bart did not have the knowledge of the game possessed by Fred.
At first, Taffy, Lefty and the others of his intimates had loyally resented the charge, but as the season progressed with little or no improvement in the eleven, in their hearts they were beginning to fear its truth.
Accordingly, Taffy's tidings were joyously received, and when the fair-haired boy appeared on the campus that afternoon, he was given an ovation.
Such a demonstration was gall and wormwood to the rich bully, but, realizing that if he were to obtain the wish of his heart and lead the Baxter Seconds to their first victory over Landon in five years, he must control himself, he managed to force a smile.
"Will you get in the game?" he asked, approaching his rival.
"Not to-day; thank you. Just run them through a few signals till I get a line on their faults."
Quickly Bart did so, and as a result of the exhibition, Fred called Buttons from the line-up and passed the remainder of the afternoon in giving him personal coaching, the benefit of which was evident in the scrimmage of the next day.
Fred's coöperation thus assured, the team improved rapidly. Moreover, to his surprise, the boy found that instead of proving a handicap to his class work, his lessons seemed to be mastered with less effort.
The scene of the annual contest between the Form elevens of Baxter and Landon alternated between the two towns, and this year chanced to be the one when the games were played at Landon. As the day approached, Fred was importuned to go. But though it cost him many a pang, he was obliged to decline, finally announcing the truth to Taffy, who came as an emissary from Bart—that he could not afford the expense.
"If that's the only reason you're staying at home, I'll lend you the money gladly," returned Taffy.
"Much obliged, but under my circumstances it would not be right to borrow money for pleasure," responded Fred, and that he might get away from the temptation, he turned on his heel and walked off.
When the result of Taffy's entreaties had been made known to the rest of the team, the boys went into council, the result of which was that they agreed to raise a subscription among themselves sufficient to defray Fred's expenses.
But when Buttons sounded him on the proposition, Fred refused to accept it.
"I'm not an object of charity," he exclaimed hotly.
"But it's not charity," protested his chum. "We shall need your advice between halves. Because of that, the boys are willing to pay your way. It's for the good of Baxter."
"No, it isn't, Buttons. I'm obliged to you all, of course. But you ought to know that if my expenses are paid I'll be practically in the position of a professional coach. That would prevent my playing on the School Team next year—and I want to do that."
Before this new angle in the case Buttons was silent, and in despair the boys gave up trying to persuade Fred to go with the team.
At last the eventful day of the contests arrived. Bright and early the boys and girls, some accompanied by their fathers and mothers, flocked to the station. And with their school flags and colors they presented a brilliant scene, laughing and talking merrily.
As the members of the different teams arrived, they were greeted with hearty cheers, and were immediately surrounded by their friends, who offered advice and good wishes.
Attracting as little attention as he could, Fred moved among the happy throng until he caught sight of Taffy, to whom he beckoned.
Walking with him to one end of the platform, he was talking to him earnestly when several of the students espied him and surged toward him, declaring they would take him with them by force.
Good-naturedly, Fred was trying to escape from them, when Bart suddenly forced his way close to his rival.
"The boys seem to want you to go with them, but I understand you're too poor. Here's ten dollars—enough to carry you down and back and leave you something besides," he exclaimed, at the same time extending a bill to Fred.
A gasp of amazement ran through the crowd of students and their elders, then in expectant silence they stared at the fair-haired boy.
Flushing scarlet, Fred quivered as though he would leap at the brutal bully, then turned on his heel and resumed his talk with Taffy.
"As I was saying," he began, his voice trembling with emotion, "you must watch out for Phil Thomas, the Landon left guard. He'll try to make Bart's nose bleed—the way he did last year. If he does, Bart'll lose his head and the game will be lost."
More than two score of people were within earshot of these words, and as they realized that the boy who had been so wantonly insulted in public had not allowed his personal feelings to outweigh his desire to have Baxter win, they broke into hearty cheers, many of them pressing forward to shake Fred's hands.
"Ouch! this hurts more than the other!" he exclaimed, and, wriggling like an eel, he slipped from the crowd with the same skill that made him so hard a runner to tackle on the football gridiron.
But though the students were prevented from showing their sympathy to Fred, they were able to let the rich bully know in what light they regarded his action—which they did in no uncertain manner, turning their backs on him, as with one accord, and paying no further attention to him whatsoever.
Though they strove to regain their former lightheartedness, the incident had cast a damper on their spirits, and many of Baxter's supporters considered it an omen of disaster for the various teams.
Realizing the prolongation of such feeling would have a bad effect upon the morale of the various elevens, Sandow, Hal and several other Firsts went through the train rallying the students. And with such good effect that when the train arrived at Landon they had practically regained their former high spirits.
That both schools might be able to witness the game between the First Teams, the contests between the Third and Second Forms were always held in the morning.
But that the Baxter students were still determined to let Bart understand they resented his treatment of Fred, was evident when the elevens lined up. Only a handful were present to watch the contest between the Seconds, the rest flocking to watch the Thirds.
The result of this wholesale boycott of the Second team was that it was defeated by the overwhelming score of 30 to 4—despite brilliant work by Buttons, who proved himself the star of the game—while the Thirds, encouraged by the cheering of their schoolmates, won their game, 12 to 6.
Elated by their victory of their Seconds, which they had conceded to Baxter, the Landon students declared the game between the Firsts was already won—and such proved to be the case, for Sandow and Hal were unable to defeat the entire Landon eleven, though the game was a tie, 0 to 0, until the last fifteen minutes of play, when the captain of the Baxter team was obliged to leave the game, after which Landon scored a touch-down, and won, to the score of 6 to 0.
Although it was a glum trainload of students who returned to Baxter in the evening, the sting of defeat was soon forgotten.
In due course, the Christmas holidays came and passed, and with the resumption of the session interest centered in the contest for the Scholarship of Science, which would be decided on the tenth of February, the first day of the mid-winter examinations.
Thanks to Fred's diligence and hard work, he was making rapid strides toward mastering the subject, and as the school settled down after the Christmas holidays, it soon became evident the Scholarship lay between Fred, Bronson and Alice Montgomery.
As the day of the examinations approached, the excitement over the award grew.
In some way, though Soda and Buttons declared they were innocent, word had leaked out that Fred was working for the money rather than the honor, and the presence of Alice in the contest gave the flavor of a second rivalry between Fred and the Montgomerys.
Yet had they known that instead of seeking to take the prize from Fred, Alice was, in reality, trying to make him win it, spending hours at Margie's house explaining problems to him, rehearsing recitations and coaching him in every way of which she could think, they would have been amazed.
But in their ignorance of the secret friendship, they saw only the family rivalry.
The wagering of money was strictly forbidden—and severely punished when discovered—at Baxter, but the resourceful students had devised a method to back their favorites, by agreeing to work problems in mathematics or translate Greek, Latin, Spanish, French and German for varying periods.
On the day previous to the examinations, Bart stalked haughtily into the gymnasium during recess.
"I'll do mathematics, French, Spanish and German for the entire Second semester against the same for a month that Alice wins over Fred," he announced.
"Greek and Latin the same," cried Lefty.
"I'll give mathematics," announced Taffy.
"Wow! What a cinch!" cried Buttons, Soda and Shorty in chorus. "We'll each take the three of you. No more worry about baseball and lessons. Hooray!"
The eagerness with which the wagers were accepted rather surprised Bart and his chums. But they had made the odds tempting on purpose, and so confident were they of Alice's ability, that they bound the agreements—according to Baxter tradition—by shaking hands.
At breakfast the next morning, Mrs. Montgomery announced to the rich bully that Alice was ill in bed.
Instantly Bart rushed to her room and urged her to get up and take the examination.
"But we've no end of wagers on you," he growled when she turned a deaf ear to his entreaties.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Bart," exclaimed Mrs. Montgomery, who had followed him. "The idea of you're caring more about your wagers than your sister's health. Now go away, and mind you do not bother Alice any more."
When Bart reported the indisposition of his sister at school, his chums were in consternation.
"Serves you right," chuckled Shorty. "No one with sense would have wagered such periods."
"But they're off," announced the bully.
"Not much!" exclaimed Buttons. "It's just the same as though Alice failed to win. You made no conditions."
And with this decision, Bart and his chums were forced to be content.
"Oh, well, Bronson may beat Fred," suggested Taffy. "That'll let us out."
As the four contestants came out of the examination room, they were surrounded by their classmates, but in accordance with a suggestion from the headmaster, they refused to discuss the examination, and went immediately to their homes.
Realizing that the interval of suspense would prove hard on her son, Mrs. Markham had asked Margie, Grace and Buttons to spend the afternoon and evening with Fred. But despite their attempts to divert him, the boy was silent and unresponsive.
Just as they sat down to supper, however, there came a rap at the door.
Opening it, Fred was surprised to see Bronson standing on the porch.
"Hello, Clothespin! Come in. You're just in time to eat," invited Fred.
"Thank you, but I can't. I'm going home to-night. I came over to bring this note from Mr. Vining."
And before Fred could say anything, Bronson had hurried away.
A moment the boy turned the envelope over and over.
"Open it! Open it!" called the others.
In obedience, Fred did so.
And as he unfolded the letter, two bank notes fluttered to the floor.