The boys howled approval.
You see, continued Jerry, I was most skeered to give you bacon cause dad would have missed it when he got back. Dad aint got much money, an I guess he wouldnt like me to be too free with the victuals. But if youre willin to pay
Sure, well pay, said Bob.
So Jerry set a frying pan on top of the stove, touched a match to the pile of straw and corncobs inside, and produced a strip of bacon from the larder. Even Bob, who prided himself on his culinary abilities, had to pay tribute to Jerrys deftness. In ten minutes the first panful of crisp bacon was ready and a second lot was sizzling on the stove.
Talk about your reed birds! said Dan eloquently.
Never tasted anything better in my life, said Nelson. Is there any more milk there?
Ten minutes later the banquet was a thing of the past, and the four sat back and sighed luxuriously.
That was sure fine, said Dan. My, but I was hungry!
Me too, answered Nelson. But look here, how about you? He looked inquiringly at Jerry. We havent left you a thing.
Oh, I had my dinner at twelve, answered their host, as he cleared the table. You see we have our breakfast about six, dad an me.
You say your fathers away to-day? asked Bob.
Yes, gone over to Roslyn to buy some feed for the horse.
And you live here all the year, do you?
We only come here last April. We used to have a farm down near Hicksville, but we lost it.
Thats too bad. Is there just you and your father?
Jerry nodded soberly.
Mother died year ago last May. Me an dads been kind of helpless since then. Things dont seem to go just right nowadays.
Do you go to school? asked Nelson.
No. I did one year over to Newton. It was a mighty nice school too. There was three teachers. I learnt a whole lot that winter. I been intendin to go again, but since mother died
Jerrys voice dwindled away into silence while he stared out into the sunlit stable yard.
I see, said Bob sympathetically.
Mother she taught me a lot at home when I was just a kid, resumed Jerry. Spellin, rithmetic, and all about Scotland. She was born in Scotland, you see. I guess I know moren most fellers about Scotland, he added proudly.
I bet you know a heap more about it than I do, said Bob.
I guess youre through school, aint you? asked Jerry.
I get through this year, answered Bob. Then Im going to college.
Jerrys eyes brightened.
Is that so? he asked eagerly. I guess youre pretty smart. What college are you going to?
Erskine. Ever hear of it?
No. Jerry shook his head apologetically. You see I dont know much about colleges. I Id like to see one. I guess Yale must be pretty fine. I expect its biggern that boardin school over to Garden City?
St. Pauls? Some bigger, yes.
Is the school you been going to like St. Pauls?
Not much, but Nelson and Tommy here go to a school a good deal the same. Hillton. Ever hear of Hillton?
Again Jerry shook his head.
Whats it like, your school? he asked.
For the next quarter of an hour Nelson told about Hillton Tom interpolating explanatory footnotes, as it were and Jerry listened with shining eyes and open mouth. It was all very wonderful to him, and he asked question after question. Dan tried to tell him that while Hillton was good enough in a way, the only school worth boasting about was St. Eustace. But Tom tipped him out of his chair, and as it is difficult to uphold the honor of your school with any eloquence from the hard floor of a carriage house, Dan decided to shut up.
I guess it costs a good deal to go to a school like that, said Jerry regretfully.
Not so awful much, answered Nelson. A fellow can get through the year on three hundred.
Jerry nodded gravely.
I guess thats kind of reasonable, aint it?
Yes. Then if a fellow is lucky enough to get a scholarship, it brings it down to about two hundred, maybe.
Whats a scholarship like? asked Jerry interestedly.
Nelson explained.
I guess its pretty hard to get into one of them schools, aint it? pursued Jerry.
Oh, not so very hard.
Think I could do it?
Well I dont know. I think maybe you could if you had some coaching.
Whats that like? asked Jerry.
Nelson glanced appealingly at Bob, and the latter took up the task. Half an hour later the four decided that it was time for them to be going. Bob broached the matter of payment.
How much do we owe, Jerry?
I guess about a quarter, answered Jerry.
A quarter! cried Tom. Get out! That was worth a dollar! It saved my life.
Its worth fifty cents, anyhow, said Nelson, and heres mine.
Well, said Jerry accepting the coin reluctantly, but I dont feel just right about it. You see, the milk dont cost nothin, and the butter dont cost nothin, and the bread was only five cents, and
That bread was worth more than five cents to us, laughed Dan. Here, take the money, and dont be silly. Dan held out his half dollar, and Bob and Tom followed suit. Jerry looked bewildered.
Whats that? he asked.
Were going to pay fifty cents, said Dan.
Yes, but he paid it, replied Jerry, pointing his thumb at Nelson.
He paid for himself, thats all.
Gosh! I didnt mean you was to pay fifty cents apiece! cried Jerry. Fifty cents is moren enough for the whole of you!
They laughed derisively, and tried to get him to accept the rest of the money, but nothing they found to say had any effect.
I been paid enough, said Jerry doggedly. Im much obliged, but I cant take no more. You didnt eat moren a quarters worth of victuals.
In the end they had to let him have his own way. As they were fixing their packs on to their shoulders Jerry approached Nelson. He held out a soiled envelope and a stump of pencil.
Say, would you just write down the name of that school you was tellin about? he asked awkwardly.
Surely, answered Nelson.
Hillton Academy, Hillton, New York, read Jerry unctuously. Thanks. Im goin there some day.
Thats fine, answered Nelson heartily. Youll like it, Im sure. Maybe you can get up this year while Im there. I wish you would. Id be glad to show you around.
This year? No, I couldnt do that. You see, Ill have to earn some money first; three hundred dollars, you said, didnt you?
Oh, you mean youre going to enter? asked Nelson.
Yes, Im goin to school there. You see Jerry paused and looked thoughtfully out into the afternoon sunlight you see, mother always intended me to have an education, an an Im agoin to have it! he added doggedly. Im goin to get out of here; there aint nothin here; Im goin to get a place on a farm and earn some money. I guess one year there would help, wouldnt it?
Yes, it would, answered Nelson earnestly. And I dare say if you got through one year, youd find a way to get through the next. Lots of fellows pretty near work their way through school. Look here, Jerry, supposing I wanted to write to you, where could I direct a letter?
Dad gets his mail at Bakerville. I guess if you wrote my name and his name and sent it to Bakerville, Id get it. I Id like first rate to get a letter from you. I aint never got very many letters.
Dad gets his mail at Bakerville. I guess if you wrote my name and his name and sent it to Bakerville, Id get it. I Id like first rate to get a letter from you. I aint never got very many letters.
Well, Ill write you one, said Nelson cheerfully. I shall want to know how youre getting along, so you must answer it. Will you?
Jerry reddened under his tan.
I guess so, he muttered. But I aint much of a writer. You see, I aint never seemed to have much time for writin.
Of course not! But dont let that trouble you. All ready, you fellows? Well, good-by, Jerry. Were awfully much obliged to you. Hope well see you again. And dont forget that youre going to make some money and enter Hillton.
Jerry shook hands embarrassedly with each of the four and followed them down to the road.
Good-by, he called. I wish youd all come again. You been good to tell me about them schools. I I had a mighty good time!
They walked on in silence for some distance. Then, when the corner of the hotel had disappeared around a turn of the road, Tom broke out explosively.
Its a mu-mu-mu-mean sh-shame! he said.
What is? they asked in chorus.
Why, that fellow bu-bu-back there. Hed give his skin to gu-gu-gu-go to school, and instead of that hell have to stay there in that pu-pu-place all his life!
Thats so, Tommy, said Bob. It is hard luck. And hes a good fellow, too, Jerry is. Take those overalls off him, and put some decent clothes on him, and hed be a good-looking chap.
Yes, and hes built well too, added Dan. Hed make the varsity eleven first pop.
Hes the sort of chap whod be popular, I think, said Nelson. I wish
What do you wish? asked Dan.
I wish we could help him.
There was an instants silence. Then Tommy fell over a stone and began to stutter violently.
Lu-lu-lu-lu-lu sputtered Tommy.
Easy there, cautioned Dan. Youll blow up in a minute.
Lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu
Shut up, you fellows, said Dan indignantly, and hear what he has to say. Its going to be great!
Lu-lu-lu-lets!
Eh?
Hows that, Tommy?
Once more, please.
Lu-lu-lu-lets! repeated Tom, very red of face.
Oh, of course!
Twice that, Tommy!
Lets what?
Lu-lets help him!
Oh! Id forgotten what we were talking about, said Dan.
Yes, that was about half a mile back, said Bob.
Lets see if we cant make up enough to send him to Hillton for a year, went on Tommy. Hed probably get a scholarship, and then if he found some work there, hed make out all right the next year.
Youve got a good heart, Tommy, said Dan. Its a shame you dont go to a decent school.
Tom took no notice of the insult.
Couldnt we, Bob? he asked.
I dont see how we could do it ourselves, answered the older boy. But we might get some one interested in him.
Three hundred isnt awfully much, said Nelson thoughtfully. If we got our folks to give a fourth
Thats it! cried Tom. My dad will give a fourth. Why, it would be only seventy-five dollars!
A mere nothing, murmured Dan. One moment, please, and I will draw a check. He flourished his hand through the air. Pay to Jerry seventy-five and no one-hundredths dollars. Daniel H. F. Speede. There you are. Oh, not a word, I beg of you! It is nothing, nothing at all! A mere trifle!
And I think I can promise for my father, Nelson was saying. How about you, Bob?
Ill ask. I think he will give it, although I cant say sure. Hes had hard luck lately.
Youre in it, arent you, Dan?
Not a cent will I allow my father to pay to send a chap to Hillton, answered Dan indignantly. If he wants to go to St. Eustace, now, why
But you see, Dan, said Tom sweetly, he wants an education.
Dan chased Tom down the road and administered proper punishment. When order was restored the four discussed the matter seriously, and it was decided that Jerry was to go to Hillton.
Of course, said Nelson, he couldnt pass the entrance exams as he is now, but if he has a years schooling this year he ought to make it all right. And if he doesnt have to work he can go to school. I suppose theres a decent school around here somewhere?
Plenty of them, answered Dan indignantly.
If he needs some coaching next summer, said Tom, Ill see that he gets it.
You might coach him yourself, Tommy, suggested Dan.
He said he was sixteen now, pondered Bob. That would make him seventeen when he entered. Rather old for the junior class, eh?
What of it? asked Nelson. Ill see that he knows some good fellows, and I dont believe any chaps going to make fun of him when they know about him. Besides, maybe we can get him into the lower middle class.
Thats so, said Tom. Anyway, Ill bet hes the sort that can learn fast and remember things. Wish I could.
Heres a romantic-looking well, said Dan, and Im thirsty. That bacon was a trifle salt. Lets go in and interview the old oaken bucket.
The well stood in front of a little white house, and as they went up the walk a woman put her head around the corner of the open door. Dan doffed his cap gallantly.
May we borrow a drink of water? he asked politely.
The woman nodded and smiled, and Tom began winding the old-fashioned windlass. When the bucket which turned out to be tin instead of oak made its appearance the four dipped their cups.
Fellow tramps, declaimed Dan, let us drink a health to Jerry. May he be a credit to Hillton!
May our plans succeed, added Nelson.
Heres to Ju-ju-Jerry! cried Tom.
To our protégé! laughed Bob.
To our protégé! they echoed, and drank merrily.
CHAPTER IV
INTRODUCES MR. WILLIAM HOOPER AND AN IMPROMPTU SUPPER
By the time they had regained the Jericho road they had walked nearly twelve miles, and it was close to six oclock. It had been slow going for the last two hours, for the distance had begun to tell on them, especially on Dan and Tom. Nelson and Bob, who had been at Camp Chicora for ten weeks, were in pretty good training, but even they were tired.
Now what? asked Dan, as they paused at the junction of the two roads.
Well, Jerichos a good mile and a half back, according to the map, answered Bob. Suppose we find Bill Hoopers place and see if he will give us some supper. After that we can go on to Jericho and find a place to sleep.
All right, but are you sure theres a hotel at Jericho? said Nelson.
No, but Bill will tell us, I guess.
On to Bills! said Dan wearily.
So they turned to the right and made toward the nearest farmhouse, a half mile distant. It proved on nearer acquaintance to be a prosperous-looking, well-kept place, with acres and acres of land to it and a big white house flanked by a much bigger red barn. They made their way up a lane under the branches of spreading elm trees, and knocked at the front door. Presently footsteps sounded inside and the portal swung open, revealing a thickset elderly man, whose morose, suspicious face was surrounded by a fringe of grizzled beard and whiskers.