Part 5 (1/2)
”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 relinquis.h.i.+ng 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 cas.e.m.e.nt 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.
”h.e.l.lo, fellows!” greeted the apparition. ”Salutations and everything!”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”h.e.l.lo, fellows! Salutations and everything!”]
CHAPTER IV-KEWPIE STARTS SOMETHING
The twins stared silently and suspiciously for an instant. Then Ned made cautious response.
”h.e.l.lo,” 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 friends.h.i.+p 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?”