CHAPTER IVA CHANCE MEETING
Two days after the visit to Hugh Ordway’s room Jimmy Logan’s joke which he had attributed to Dud bore unexpected fruit. The remark had tickled the fellows who had heard it and consequently they very promptly repeated it, with the natural result that within twenty-four hours it got around to Starling Meyer himself. Star, as he was generally called, was a large, good-looking boy of seventeen, well supplied with self-conceit. He was a rattling good hockey player, undoubtedly the best in school, and a fair performer with the second nine in the outfield. There his athletic prowess ended, for he considered—or pretended to consider—track sports unimportant and football unscientific. He was a clever student and stood high in class, and was, in consequence, rather a favorite with the faculty. As a member of the Forum Society his activities were critical rather than constructive, for he took no part in the debates beyond attending them and pointing out the deficiencies of the debaters in a superior manner. Most fellows likedhim, especially those who were not clever in the lines he affected, and even those who saw through his poses and couldn’t stand his conceit accorded him honor for his brilliancy in class-room and on the ice. Although Star roomed next door to Dud, the latter knew him only as he knew three-fourths of the students, that is, to nod to on passing. Once or twice, since they had both been rather unimportant members of the second baseball team last year, they had spoken. But beyond that they were strangers, and so when, two days after that visit to 29 Lothrop, Star Meyer stopped Dud in front of Trow by the simple but effective method of seizing him by the arm, Dud was somewhat surprised. Star was scowling and Dud didn’t need more than one glance at his face to realize that he was angry. Even when angry, however, Star didn’t allow himself to forget his pose of contemptuous superiority, and now when he spoke he managed a one-sided smile designed to remind Dud of the honor being done him.
“Baker, you’re a remarkably fresh young kid,” began Star, “and some day that mouth of yours is going to get you into a heap of trouble. Ever think of that?”
Dud, puzzled, moved restively in the bigger boy’s grasp but failed to get free. “I don’t know what you mean, Meyer,” he protested.
“Yes, you do. What’s the good of lying? After this you leave my name out of your funny jokes; hear?”
“I don’t know what——” began Dud again. Then recollection of Jimmy’s bon-mot came to him and he flushed.
“The next time I’ll kick you from here to the river,” said Star in a quietly venomous tone. “I’d do it now for a couple of buttons, too. You leave my name strictly alone, Baker, after this. Understand me?”
“Yes, but honest, Meyer, I didn’t say——” Then, however, Dud had to stop, for, although innocent, to insist on the fact would put the blame on Jimmy. He dropped his eyes. “All right,” he muttered.
Somehow that phrase seemed to add fresh fuel to Star’s smoldering anger, for he took a fresh and very painful grip on Dud’s arm and said: “All right, is it? Well, it isn’t all right, kid!You’re a sneaky little bounder, that’s what you are!Saying smart-aleck things and then trying to lie out of it! Don’t you ever mention my name again. If you do I’ll get you and you won’t forget it in a hurry. Now you beat it!”
“‘You’re a sneaky little bounder, that’s what you are!’”
“‘You’re a sneaky little bounder, that’s what you are!’”
“‘You’re a sneaky little bounder, that’s what you are!’”
With a sudden wrench at the captive arm, Star spun Dud around and aimed a kick at him. Fortunately, a premonition of what was happeningcaused Dud to jump aside and Star’s foot missed its goal. Dud, angry himself now, turned with clenched fists and flashing eyes. But the situation was distinctly hopeless. Star topped him by a head and Dud was suddenly conscious of his own physical inferiority. Still he might have tried conclusions had it not been for the smile of haughty contempt on the other’s countenance. Somehow that smile was too much. It seemed to say: “What, you dare to show disrespect tome? Begone, impious mortal!” Dud’s fingers straightened again, he gulped down his resentment, stole a doubtful glance at a group of fellows who were looking on curiously from the dormitory steps and walked away, trying his best to appear dignified and unconcerned but secretly feeling like a whipped cur. Later, when he recounted the episode to Jimmy the latter took him to task vigorously.
“Why didn’t you tell him you didn’t say it? I’m not afraid of the big fraud!”
“Considering you’d told everyone that I had said it——”
“Yes, that’s so.” Jimmy frowned mightily. “Well, then, why didn’t you light into him? Don’t you see that the fellows who were watching you will think you were afraid of him?”
“I wanted to, but—but somehow he looked so—so sort ofsuperior——”
“Yah! That’s Star’s best bluff! Bet you anything if you’d hit him just one little tap on the nose he’d have run! Hang it, Dud, you’ve got to play up, boy! Here I am making you out a regular feller, and the first chance you get to—to put yourself in the lime-light you fall down! Why, you had the finest sort of an opportunity to distinguish yourself! Think what it would have meant to you, Dud! Fellows would have said: ‘What do you know about young Baker licking Star Meyer right in front of Trow this morning? Had it all over him, they say! Beat him something brutal! Some class to that kid, eh?’ That’s the way they’d have talked you up. Now you’ve gone and——”
“Don’t be an ass,” begged Dud with spirit. “You know plaguey well I couldn’t lick Star. He’s six inches taller than I am, and he’s at least seventeen years old, and he’s—he’s stronger——”
“Son, when you get in a row with another chap,” replied Jimmy emphatically, “don’t you stop to figure out how much bigger or stronger he is. You jump in and get the first lick at him. You’ll be surprised to find what a lot of inches that first whack takes off the other chap! What you should have done——”
“Well, I didn’t,” said Dud shortly. “You wouldn’t have, either, I guess.”
Jimmy grinned. “Never mind what I’d have done, Dud. I’m not making a name for myself. I’m not——”
“Neither am I. You are. And I’m getting sick of it. It’s no use, anyway. Let’s drop it.”
“Drop nothing,” replied Jimmy vigorously. “We’re getting on famously. Why——”
“You’ve just said I’ve queered myself!”
“I said you’d missed a chance to make a hit. So you have. But we can fix that all right. Those fellows who saw it will talk, I guess, but we can talk too. Who were they?”
“I don’t know. Stiles was one, though.”
“The sweetest little gossip in school,” commented Jimmy. “All right, Dud, you leave it to me. Your Uncle James will fix it all hunky for you. You sit tight and—yes, that’s the game! Dud, you must go around looking very dignified for a couple of days.”
“Rot!”
“I mean it. You must make fellows think that you resisted a great temptation and that it has—er—has sobered you. Get me?”
“What temptation?” asked Dud, puzzled.
“Why, the temptation to lose your temper and beat Star up, of course,” explained Jimmy patiently. “That’s our line, don’t you see? It was only by—by superhuman control that you manfully resistedthe impulse to fell him to the ground! Great stuff, what? You just wait till I tell it!”
“Jimmy, for the love of lemons don’t start anything else! Every time you get to talking you put me in a hole. You’ve got fellows thinking I’m a wit, and they all look at me in a funny sort of a way as if they were waiting for me to spring something bright, and I get tongue-tied and can’t think of a thing to say. And you’re telling it around that I’m going to be a wonderful pitcher, too. They don’t believe that, of course, but it makes me look silly. And now you want to make me out a—a scrapper——”
“Not at all, not at all! Star resented your remark about him and spoke insultingly to you. You gave him a beautiful calling down and he didn’t dare talk back. Then, when your back was turned, he tried to kick you, and you, stifling your—er—your natural and excusable indignation, kept your temper wonderfully and walked superbly away. All through the encounter your dignity was sublime!”
Dud groaned. “You’ll simply make me out an awful ass and fellows will laugh at you—and me. I wish you wouldn’t, Jimmy!”
“That remark merely shows how little you appreciate my powers of diplomacy,” replied the other in tones of sorrowful resignation. “But never mind. I shall continue to do my best for you, Dud,even though my efforts are unappreciated, misunderstood. Leave it all to me, my young friend. Appear very dignified and—and aloof. Let’s see you look aloof, Dud.”
Dud only looked disgusted.
“Not a bit like it,” resumed the other cheerfully. “More like this. Get it? Sort of hinting at a secret sorrow or—no, that’s not exactly the idea, either. You want to look like the hero in the second act of the play, when everyone thinks he stole the jewels and the heroine spurns him. He knows that he’s innocent, you see, and knows that the audience will know it in the last act. So he just looks disdainful and a bit sad and sort of moons around by himself and smokes a good deal to salve his sorrow——”
“I can’t smoke,” interrupted Dud practically. “They won’t let me, and I don’t like it anyway.”
Jimmy waved his hand airily. “You get the idea, though, Dud. ‘Too proud to fight’ is your line, old chap. Now shut up and let me think.”
Jimmy’s thinking resulted in action. That afternoon about four he might have been observed lingering idly in front of School Hall, hands in pockets, whistling tunelessly, evidently quite at a loose end. Nick Blake tried to entice him up to Lit to play pool, Gus Weston suggested the joys of a trip to the village for hot soda and Pete Gordon stroveto lure him to his room. Jimmy resisted heroically and was left to his devices. It was a particularly disagreeable afternoon, with a hard wind freezing the pools along the walk, and Jimmy from time to time glanced impatiently at the big doors behind him. But it was nearly the half-hour before they finally opened again to emit Ned Stiles. Warned by the creaking of the portal, Jimmy instantly assumed the appearance of one who, passing, has his attention attracted by the sound of an opening door. This in the face of the fact that he had been all along aware that Stiles, in trouble with Mr. Gibbs, the history instructor, had been having an after-school séance with “Gusty” in a classroom. Stiles was an upper middler, seventeen years old, an uninteresting and rather sycophantic youth whom Jimmy secretly disliked very much. Stiles suspected the fact and was consequently somewhat surprised when Jimmy, after nodding briefly, halted and awaited him at the foot of the steps.
“Hello, Stiles. Rotten day, isn’t it? Seen Guy Murtha lately?”
Stiles shook his head, changing his books from one elbow to the other in order to reach his handkerchief and blow a very red nose. Stiles always had a cold in winter and snuffled from October to April.
“Can’t find him anywhere,” continued Jimmy inpreoccupied tones, accommodating his steps to those of the other boy and continuing on toward Trow. “Star Meyer said he thought he’d gone to the village. I want to see him awfully.”
“I haven’t seen him all day, I guess,” said Stiles. He was hoping that some of the fellows would look from their windows and see him hob-nobbing with Jimmy.
“Well, I guess I can get him at supper,” said the latter. Then he chuckled, and, in response to Stiles’ unspoken question, explained, “I was thinking of Star. He hasn’t got over it yet, I guess. Grumpy as anything he was.”
“Got over what?” asked Stiles eagerly.
“Didn’t you hear about it?” Jimmy looked at him incredulously. “Why, Dud Baker gave him an awful calling down this morning and Star took it like a lamb. Say, that kid certainly has got spunk!”
Stiles viewed the other suspiciously, but Jimmy’s countenance expressed truth and quiet amusement. Stiles grunted. Then he said “Huh!” doubtfully.
“Star was mad as a hornet about something Dud said; some joke or other, you know.”
Stiles nodded. “Yes, about the hockey team dying of Star-vation.”
“Was that it? Well, anyway, he got after Dud and wanted Dud to apologize and Dud told him tochase himself, that it was all true and that every fellow in school knew it, and a lot more. And Star was mad enough to bite! Think of Dud getting away with it!”
“I saw it,” said Stiles, “but it didn’t look—just like that to me. Star had Baker by the arm and it looked like he was reading the riot act to him. And then he tried to kick him and Baker beat it.”
“Good thing for Star he did, then,” said Jimmy knowingly. “I’d hate to stand up to Dud Baker when he was riled!”
“I didn’t know he was—that sort,” said Stiles interestedly. They had reached the entrance to Trow and paused at the door.
“Dud Baker? Didn’t you ever hear why he left the school he was at before he came here?”
Stiles shook his head.
“Well, it isn’t a nice story to tell, although it wasn’t all Dud’s fault. I heard it from a fellow who was there and saw it. In fact, he helped to carry the other fellow to his room. He was three years older than Dud and a whole head taller, too, they say. But Dud isn’t the sort of fellow you can bully. Or he wasn’t. Nowadays Dud will stand a lot. I guess after that fracas he learned to keep his temper. The other fellow was in bed a month. It was such a close shave for him that it sort of sobered Dud up and he will go most any lengthnow to keep from scrapping. He’s got an awful punch, they say.”
Stiles looked vastly amazed, but Jimmy, glancing from the corners of his eyes, saw to his satisfaction that there was no incredulity in the amazement. Stiles had swallowed the yarn whole and was gasping for more. But Jimmy knew the value of silence.
“Well, I guess I’ll run over to Lothrop. If you should see Guy you might tell him I’m looking for him. So long.”
“But, look here, Logan,” called Stiles eagerly; “what was it Baker said to Star, eh?”
“Oh, I don’t know just what he told him, but it was aplenty. And Star took it, too!”
“But he—he kicked Baker! We saw him!”
“Never!” replied Jimmy vehemently. “He may have kickedathim. In fact, some fellow told me he did aim a kick at Dud when Dud’s back was turned. Said Dud turned like a tiger on him then and he thought sure it was all up with Star. But Dud controlled himself and walked quietly away. Gee, I couldn’t have done that, Stiles! It must have been great to see, wasn’t it?”
“Why—er—yes, only——” Stiles paused. “It looked to us as if Baker was scared, Logan. Of course he wasn’t, but that’s what it looked like. I didn’t know he was such a scrapper.”
“Who, Dud?” Jimmy spread his hands expressively. “Take my advice, old man, and don’t let him hear you say he looked scared, though maybe he wouldn’t touch you. And then again he might lose control of that temper of his and—— Better not risk it, I guess.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” said Stiles earnestly. “I didn’t really think he was scared, you know; only some of the other fellows who saw it said itlookedthat way. Don’t tell Dud Baker I said that, will you?”
“Me? No indeed. In fact, I wouldn’t mention the thing to him at any price. He’s awfully touchy, you see, and ever since this morning he’s been sort of like a bear with a sore head. I guess there’s times when he wishes he’d forgotten himself and let fly! Well, so long!”
Jimmy walked on toward Lothrop and Ned Stiles plunged through the door and hurried down the corridor to leave his books and then spread his news to all who would hearken to it. And Jimmy, approaching the first entrance to Lothrop Hall, winked gravely at the ornamental brass knocker.