Part 31 (1/2)
”White! Geewhillikins, Laurie, that makes it harder, doesn't it? We'd have to put on two coats!”
”Think so?” Laurie frowned. ”I guess we would. That would take twice as long, eh? Look here; maybe-maybe I can get Polly to change her mind!”
”That's likely, you chump!” Ned scowled thoughtfully. Finally, ”I tell you what,” he said. ”Suppose we went around there sometime, and talked with Mrs. Deane, and told her how nice we think blue looks and how sort of-of distinctive! Gee, it wouldn't be any trick at all to make it blue; but white-” He shook his head despondently.
”Cheer up!” said Laurie. ”I've got the dope, partner! Listen. We'll tell them that it ought to be blue because blue's the school color and all that. Mrs. Deane thinks a heap of Hillman's, and she'll fall for it as sure as shooting. So'll Polly! Come on! Let's find George and get the thing started!”
”Better get Bob to go with us, too. He said something about wanting to pay his share of it, so we'd better let him in right from the start.
After all, we don't want to hog it, Laurie!”
A fortnight later the exodus came. Of the four-score lads who lived at Hillman's, all but eight took their departure that Wednesday morning, and Ned and Laurie and George watched the last group drive off for the station with feelings of genuine satisfaction. Life at school during the eleven days of recess promised to be busy and enjoyable, and they were eager to see the decks cleared, so to speak, and to start the new way of living. Ned and Laurie had had plenty of invitations for Christmas week.
Both Kewpie and Lee Murdock had earnestly desired their society at their respective homes, and there had been others less insistent but possibly quite as cordial invitations. But neither one had weakened. George half promised one of the boys to visit him for a few days after Christmas, but later he canceled his acceptance.
Besides George and the twins, there remained at school five other fellows who, because they lived at a distance and railway fares were high, or for other reasons, found it expedient to accept Doctor Hillman's hospitality. None of the five, two juniors, one lower middler, and two upper middlers, were known to the twins more than casually when recess began; but eating together three times a day and being thrown in one another's society at other times soon made the acquaintance much closer, and all proved to be decent, likable chaps.
Meals were served at a corner table in West Hall, and during recess there were seldom fewer than three of the faculty present. That may sound depressing, but in vacation-time an instructor becomes quite a human, jovial person, and the scant dozen around the table enjoyed themselves hugely. In the evening Doctor Hillman held open house, and Miss Tabitha showed a genius for providing methods of entertainment.
Sometimes they popped corn in the fireplace in the cozy living-room, sometimes they roasted apples. Once it was chestnuts that jumped on the hearth. Then, too, Miss Tabitha was a past mistress in the art of making fudge, and on two occasions Mr. Barrett, the mathematics instructor, displayed such a sweet tooth that the boys lost the last of their awe and ”ragged” him without mercy. Several times the Doctor read aloud, choosing, to the boys' surprise, a corking detective novel that had them squirming on the edges of their chairs. Toward the last of the vacation, Laurie confided to Ned and George that he wished recess was just beginning.
To Ned's and Laurie's great disappointment, neither snow nor ice appeared and the weather remained merely briskly cold, with sometimes a day like Indian summer. But I am getting ahead of my story, which really comes to an end on Christmas Day.
More than a week before the closing of school, the four conspirators had finished their preparations for the task that was to provide the Widow Deane with a novel Christmas present. In Bob's cellar were many cans containing blue paint, white paint, linseed oil, and turpentine. There were brushes there, too, and a sc.r.a.per, and a roll of cotton rags provided by Polly. For, in the end, it had become necessary to acquaint Polly with the project. Against Bob's back fence reposed all the ladders, of varying lengths, that the neighborhood afforded. Wednesday evening Ned and Laurie and George herded the other boys into George's room, and explained the scheme and asked for volunteers. They got five most enthusiastic ones.
Nine o'clock the next morning was set as the time for the beginning of the work, and at that hour nine rather disreputably-attired youths appeared in Mrs. Deane's yard, arriving by way of the back fence, and began their a.s.sault. The first the Widow knew of what was happening was when, being then occupied with the task of tidying up the sleeping-room on the second floor, she was startled to see the head and shoulders of a boy appear outside her window. Her exclamation of alarm gave place to murmurs of bewilderment as the supposed burglar contented himself with lifting the two shutters from their hinges and pa.s.sing them down the ladder to some unseen accomplice. Mrs. Deane looked forth. In the garden was what at first glimpse looked like a convention of tramps. They were armed with ladders and brushes and pots of paint, and they were already very busy. Across two trestles set on the gra.s.s plot, the stolen shutters were laid as fast as they were taken down. One boy, flouris.h.i.+ng a broad-bladed implement, sc.r.a.ped the rough surfaces. A second plied a big round brush, dusting diligently. Numbers three and four, as soon as the first two operatives retired, attacked with brushes dripping with white paint. In almost no time at all the first shutter was off the trestles and leaning, fresh and spotless, against the fence. Every instant another shutter appeared. Mrs. Deane gazed in fascinated amazement. One after another, she recognized the miscreants: the two Turner boys, George Watson, Mr. Starling's son, Hal Goring, the Stanton boy, and the rest; but, although recognition brought rea.s.surance, bewilderment remained, and she hurried downstairs as fast as ever she could go.
Polly was on the back porch, a very disturbed and somewhat indignant Towser in her arms, evidently a party to the undertaking, and to her Mrs. Deane breathlessly appealed.
”Polly! What are they doing?” she gasped.
”You'll have to ask the boys, Mama.” Polly's eyes were dancing. ”Nid, here's Mama, and she wants to know what you're doing!”
Nid hurried up, a dripping brush in one hand and a smear of white paint across one cheek, followed by Laurie. The others paused at their various tasks to watch smilingly.
”Painting the house, Mrs. Deane!”
”Painting the house! My house? Why-why-what-who-”
”Yes'm. There's the blue paint. It's as near like the old as we could find. You don't think it's too dark, do you?”
”But I don't understand, Nid Turner!” said Mrs. Deane helplessly. ”Who told you to? Who's going to pay for it?”
”It's all paid for, ma'am. It-it's a sort of Christmas present from us-from the school. You-you don't mind, do you?”
”Well, I never did!” Mrs. Deane looked from Ned to Laurie, her mouth quivering. ”I-I don't know what to say. I guess I'll-I'll go see if any one's-in the shop, Polly. Did you think you-heard the bell?” Mrs.
Deane's eyes were frankly wet as she turned hurriedly away and disappeared inside. Ned viewed Polly anxiously.
”Do you think she-doesn't like it?” he half whispered.
Polly shook her head and laughed softly, although her own eyes were not quite dry. ”Of course she likes it, you stupid boy! She just didn't know what to say. She'll be back pretty soon, after she's had a little cry.”