Part 29 (1/2)

There was no trace of the slump left, and the final score that Sat.u.r.day afternoon was 39 to 7, and the school was hysterically delighted, which accounts for the added enthusiasm which kept them marching up and down the Row in the evening until the patience of a lenient faculty was exhausted, and Mr. Conklin, prodded into action by a telephone message from the Cottage, appeared and dispersed the a.s.sembly.

The second team was to go out of business on Thursday, and several members of it were eager to end the season with a banquet. Freer and Saunders dropped in on Steve and Tom Sunday afternoon to talk it over and win their support. It was a nasty day, rainy and blowy and cold, and most of the fellows were huddling indoors around the radiators. Steve and Tom, on opposite sides of the table, were chewing the ends of their pens and trying to write their Sunday letters when the visitors came.

Steve was studiedly haughty, as, to his mind, became one who was unjustly suspected of dishonesty. The visitors seemed puzzled by his manner and presently addressed themselves almost entirely to Tom, who, anxious to atone for his room-mate's churlishness, was nervously affable and unnaturally enthusiastic.

”We don't see,” explained Saunders, ”why we shouldn't be allowed to have a banquet after we quit training. We deserve it. We've done as much, in a way, as the 'varsity fellows to win from Claflin. We've been the goats all the season and it seems to me we ought to get something out of it.

What we want to do is to go to Josh and get him to give us permission to have a blow-out in the village Thursday night.”

”Or here,” supplemented Freer, ”if he won't let us go to the village.

What do you fellows think?”

”I think it's a good scheme,” answered Tom. ”And we might get one over on the 'varsity, too. I mean we'd have our banquet and lots of fun whether we won from Claflin or not, while the 'varsity, if it loses the game, doesn't enjoy its banquet very much, I guess.”

”Well, will you fellows come around to Brownell's room to-night after supper? Al is willing enough, but, being captain, he doesn't want to start the thing himself. We're going to see all the fellows this afternoon and then have a sort of a meeting this evening about eight.

You'll come, Edwards?”

”Yes, thanks.”

”All right. Come on, Jimmy. We've got several of the fellows to see yet.”

”There wouldn't be very many of us, would there?” asked Tom. ”Now that Robey has pinched Thursby there's only about fifteen left on the team.”

”Sixteen, but we thought we'd get Robey to come if he would, and 'Boots,' of course, and maybe Danny. That would make nineteen in all.”

”Where would you have it? Is there a hotel in the village?”

”Not exactly, but there's a sort of a boarding-house there; 'Larch Villa,' they call it. They'd look after us all right. They've got a fine big dining-room which we could have all to ourselves. We haven't talked price with them yet, but Al says we could probably get a good feed for about a dollar and a half apiece. That wouldn't be so much, eh?”

”Cheap, I'd call it,” said Freer.

”We'd have beefsteak and things like that, you know,” continued Saunders enthusiastically, ”things that are filling. No froth and whipped cream, you know! And lots of gingerale!”

”Sounds good,” laughed Tom. ”I wish it was to-night. Do you think Mr.

Fernald will let us?”

”I don't see why not. I spoke to Mr. Conklin about it and he said he would favour it if Josh came to him about it. If he won't let us go to the village, we thought maybe he'd let us have our feed here after the regular supper, if we paid for it ourselves. Well, you fellows show up about eight. Don't forget, because we want to get the whole bunch there and talk it all over and appoint a committee to see Josh.”

Tom was silent for a minute after the visitors had departed. Then, hesitatingly, ”Steve,” he said, ”what's the good of acting like that with fellows?”

”Like what?” asked Steve.

”You know well enough. Freezing up and talking as if you had a mouthful of icicles. You might be--be decently polite when fellows come in. Freer is a dandy chap, and Saunders is all right, too. But you treated them as if they were--were a couple of cut-throats.”

”I wasn't impolite,” denied Steve. ”As long as those fellows choose to think what they do about me, you can't expect me to slop over with them.”

”You haven't any way of knowing what they think about you,” said Tom vigorously. ”You take it for granted that every fellow in school believes that yarn of Sawyer's. I don't suppose a dozen fellows ever gave it a second thought.”

”I know better. Don't you suppose I can tell? Almost every chap I know treats me differently now. Even--even Roy--and Harry--act as if they'd rather not be seen with me!”