Part 18 (1/2)

”Splendid, sir,” said Tom. ”Oh, how do you do, Mr. Strong?” and he ran to meet the head teacher. He could not help but think of how different things were now to when he had first arrived at Putnam Hall the year previous, and Josiah Crabtree had locked him up in the guardroom for exploding a big firecracker in honor of the occasion.

”Well, Thomas, I hope you have left all your pranks behind,”

observed George Strong. ”How about it?” And his eyes twinkled.

”Oh, I'm going in for study this session,” answered Tom demurely.

And then he winked at Larry on the sly. But his words did not deceive George Strong, who understood only too well Tom's propensity for mischief.

It was the first day of the term, but as the cadets kept on arriving with every train and boat, no lessons were given out, and the boys were allowed to do pretty much as they pleased.

They visited every nook and corner, including the cla.s.srooms, the dormitories, the stables, and the gymnasium and boathouse, and nearly bothered the life out of Peleg Snuggers, Mrs. Green, the housekeeper, and Alexander Pop, the colored waiter of the mess hall.

”Hullo, Aleck!” cried Tom rus.h.i.+ng up and grabbing the colored man by the hand. ”How are you--pretty well? I'm first-rate, never was better in my life!” And he gave the hand a hard squeeze.

”Stop, wot yo' up to, Ma.s.sah Rober!” roared the waiter, leaping off his feet. ”Wot yo' got in yo' hand?”

”Why, nothing, Aleck, my boy. Yes, I'm feeling fine. I've gained fifteen pounds, and--”

”Yo' lemme go, sah-yo' is stickin' pins in my hand!” howled Pop.

”Oh, deah, now de term's dun begun we'll all be dead wid dat boy's tricks!” he moaned, as Tom ran off, throwing away several tiny tacks as he did so.

”So you've come back, have you?” observed Mrs. Green, as Tom stopped at the kitchen door. ”Well, just you mind your P's and Q's, or there will be trouble, I can tell you that, Tom Rover.”

”Why, we never had any trouble, Mrs. Green,” he said soberly.

”Did we?”

”Oh, of course not! But who stole that can of peaches right after the Christmas holidays, and who locked one of the cows in the back hall and nearly scared the washwoman to death? Oh, dear, you never did anything, never!” And Mrs. Green shook her head warningly.

”Do you mean to say I would take a can of peaches, Mrs. Green?” asked Tom, and then his face fell. ”Oh, dear, you always did put me down as the worst boy in the school, when--I--I--do--my--very best,” and, almost sobbing, Tom put his face up against his coat sleeve. Mrs.

Green was very tender-hearted in spite of her somewhat free tongue, and she was all sympathy immediately.

”There, there, Tom, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,” she said soothingly. ”I--I was only fooling. Will you have a piece of hot mince pie? It's just out of the oven.”

”I--I don't know!” sobbed Tom. ”You treat me so awful meanly!”

”I didn't mean it--really I didn't. Come, sit down and have the pie, that's a good boy. I'm glad you are back, and you are better than lots of the other cadets, so there!” And Tom slid into a seat and devoured the generous slice of pie dealt out to him with keen relish.

”It's really like home,” he murmured presently.

”Mrs. Green, when you die, they ought to erect an awfully big monument over your grave.”

”But I'm not dying just yet, Tom--pray don't speak of it.”

”By the way, my aunt was dyeing when I left home,” went on the boy, as he moved toward the door.

”Indeed. Didn't you hate to leave her?”

”Not at all. She didn't seem to mind it.”

”What was her trouble, Tom--consumption?”