This time Dan did not see Nelson as the latter came along the pier. He was standing near the edge, daring Hethington to go over with his hands clasped under his knees, and knew nothing of his danger until he found himself lifted from his feet. Then he struggled desperately, but Nelson had seized him from behind and his hands found no clutch on his captors wet body. The next instant he was falling over and over in a most undignified and far from scientific attitude. He tried to gather himself together as he struck the water, but the attempt was not a success, and he disappeared in a writhing heap. Like Nelson, he came up choking and gasping, trying his best to put a good face on it, but succeeding so ill that the howls of laughter that had greeted his disappearance burst forth afresh. But, thought Nelson, he was a wonderful chap to take a joke, for, having found his breath, he merely swam quickly to the steps and came up onto the pier looking as undisturbed as you please.
That puts us even again, doesnt it? he said to Nelson.
Nelson nodded.
He kept a watch on Dan the rest of the time, but the latter made no attempt to trouble him again. He profited to some extent by Dr. Smiths instructions, and when the cry of All out! came he believed that to-morrow he would have the courage to try a dive from the crows-nest, as the fellows called the little platform above the pier. He walked up the hill with Bob and Tom.
I dont see why that silly idiot of a Speede wants to be forever trying his fool jokes on me, he said aggrievedly.
Thats just his way, answered Tom soothingly.
Well, its a mighty tiresome way, said Nelson, in disgust.
He has an overdeveloped sense of humor, said Bob Hethington. Its a sort of disease with him, I guess.
Well, I wish hed forget it, Nelson grumbled. Im afraid to sit down on a chair now for fear therell be a pin in it.
Oh, he gets tired after a while, said Bob. He was that way with me for a day after camp began.
What did you do? asked Nelson curiously.
Bob smiled; so did Tom.
I gave him some of his own medicine. I filled his bunk with pine-needles they stick nicely to woolen blankets, you know tied knots in every stitch of clothing he had, and put all his shoes in a pail of water. Hes never bothered me since.
Did he get mad?
Mad? No, you cant get the idiot mad. Carter says he laughed himself to sleep that night Dan, I mean.
I wonder if all the St. Eustace fellows are like him, Nelson mused. If they are, life there must be mighty interesting. Perhaps they have a course of practical joking there.
Dinner was at twelve-thirty, and it was a very hungry set of fellows that dropped themselves onto their stools and attacked the soup, roast beef, potatoes, spinach, beets, apple pie, and cheese. Nelson marveled at first at the quantity of milk his neighbors got away with, but after a day or so he ceased to wonder, drinking his own three or four glasses without difficulty. After dessert the history of the preceding day was read by one of the councilors, while the historian, a very small youth known as Babe, grinned sheepishly and proudly as he listened to his composition. Nelsons hazing was referred to with gusto and summoned laughter, and Babe was loudly applauded when the history was finished and the reader had announced George Fowler.
At one-thirty the bugle blew for siesta, the most trying part of the days program. Every boy was required to go to his bunk and lie down for half an hour with closed eyes and relaxed body. By the middle of the summer custom had enabled most of them to accept this enforced idleness with philosophy, and to even sleep through a portion at least of the terrible half hour, but at present it was suffering unmitigated, and many were the pleas offered to escape siesta. When Nelson approached his bunk he was confronted by a square of brown wrapping-paper on which in black letters, evidently done with a blacking-brush, was the inscription:
HILLTON IS ABUM SCHOOLHe felt his cheeks reddening as the snickers of the watchers reached him. There was no doubt in his mind as to the perpetrator of the insult, for insult it was in his judgment, and his first impulse was to march down the aisle and have it out with Dan there and then. But he only unpinned the sheet, tossed it on the floor, and laid down on his bunk. Presently, when his cheeks had cooled, he raised his head cautiously and looked around. The dormitory was silent. One or two fellows were surreptitiously reading, a few were resolutely trying to obey orders, and the others were restlessly turning and twisting in an agony of inactivity. Mr. Verder was not present, and the dormitory was in charge of Dr. Smith, whose bunk was at the other end. Nelson quietly reached out and secured the obnoxious placard, laying it clean side up between his bed and Bobs and holding it in place with a shoe. Then he found a soft pencil, and, lying on the edge of the bunk, started to work. Bob looked on dispassionately. Nelson wondered if he ever really got interested in anything.
After a while the task was completed. Nelson looked warily down the room. Dr. Smith was apparently asleep. Finding two pins, he crept off the bed and secured the sheet of paper to the rafter where it had hung before. Up and down the dormitory heads were raised and eager eyes were watching him. This time the placard hung with the other side toward the room, and the new inscription read:
1903Hillton 17St. Eustace 0Nelson scuttled back to bed. Faint whispers reached him. Then:
Where are you going, Speede? asked the Doctors voice suddenly.
Dan, creeping cautiously up the aisle, paused in his tracks.
I left something up here, sir.
Get it after siesta, then.
Dan went back to bed. The whispers grew, interspersed with chuckles.
Cut that out, fellows, said the Doctor, and silence reigned again. For the next quarter of an hour the score of last autumns football game between Hillton and St. Eustace flaunted itself to the world. The fellows, all save one or two who had really fallen asleep, wondered what would happen after siesta. So did Nelson. He hoped that Dan would make trouble, for it seemed to him then that that insult could only be wiped out with blows; and although Dan was somewhat taller and much heavier than Nelson, the latter fancied he could give a fairly good account of himself. And then the bugle blew, fellows bounded onto the floor, and the ensuing racket more than made up for the half hour of quiet. Dan made at once for the placard. Nelson jumped up and stood under it. Dan stopped a few steps away.
Thats my piece of paper, you know, he said quietly.
Get it, answered Nelson.
Cut it out, you two, said Bob.
Nelson flashed a look of annoyance at the peacemaker.
Dan viewed him mildly. Look here, he said, if youll take that down and tear it up, well call quits.
I dont know, said Nelson. How about Hillton being a bum school? Dan grinned.
You take that down, he said.
I will when you take back what you wrote on the other side.
Dont you do it, Dan, advised a snub-nosed chap named Wells.
You shut up, Wells, said Bob; and Wells, who wasnt popular, was hustled out of the way by the others who had gathered.
Well, aint she pretty bum? asked Dan innocently.
Not too bum to lick you at football, answered Nelson hotly.
Pooh! said Dan. Do you know why? Because they wouldnt let me play.
That aroused laughter, and Nelson stared at his antagonist in deep disgust. What an idiot he was, he said to himself; he couldnt be serious even over a quarrel.
Well, she did it, anyhow, he said rather lamely.
Well, its over now, isnt it? asked Dan calmly. So lets take the score down, and he moved toward the placard.
No you dont! Nelson exclaimed, moving in front of him; not until youve apologized.
Dan smiled at him in his irritating manner.
Dont you believe I could lick you? he asked.
Maybe you can, said Nelson, but talking wont do it.
Well, I can; but Im not going to. There isnt going to be any row, so you fellows might as well chase yourselves. It was just a joke, Tilford. Hilltons all right. Its the best school in the country, barring one. Howll that do for an apology, my fierce friend?
It isnt quite truthful, answered Nelson, smiling in spite of himself, but I guess itll answer. Heres your old paper.
Dan accepted it and tore it up. Then he stuffed the pieces in the first bunk he came to.
War is averted, he announced.
Then he went out, followed by most of the inmates of the dormitory, who were laughingly accusing him of taking water.
Hes a queer chump, said Nelson, with something of unwilling admiration in his tones. But Bob didnt hear him. He was back on his bed, absorbed in a magazine.
And youre another, added Nelson under his breath.
CHAPTER V
TELLS HOW DAN PLAYED A TRUMP CARD, HOW BOB GAINED HONOR, AND HOW THE BIG FOUR CAME INTO EXISTENCE
6.55. First reveille: morning bath.
7.00. Last reveille: colors.
7.25. First mess-call.
7.30. Last mess-call: breakfast.
8 to 9. Duties.
11.00. Assembly: soak.
12.30. Mess-call: dinner.
1.30 to 2. Siesta.
2 to 5.25. Recreation.
5.25. First mess-call: colors.
5.30. Last mess-call: supper.
7.30. Assembly: camp-fire.
8.30. Taps: Juniors lights out.
9. Seniors lights out.
That was the daily schedule. On Sunday it differed in the rising-time and time for dinner, the first being half an hour and the latter an hour later. But there was nothing very hard-and-fast about the schedule, for frequently an afternoons outing on the lake prolonged itself past the hour for supper, and quite as frequently the tales about the camp-fire became so absorbing that taps didnt sound until long after the accustomed time. Largely for this reason the schedule never proved irksome. Life moved very pleasantly and smoothly at Chicora. Ordinary misdemeanors were passed over by the councilors, to be dealt with by the fellows, and so to a great extent the boys governed themselves. To be ducked by his companions was the most degrading punishment a boy could receive, and only twice during the summer was it meted out. The Chief and the councilors mingled with the fellows on all occasions, and were tireless in the search for new methods of enjoyment. Mr. Clinton played the headiest kind of a game at second base in the scrub games, and knocked out three-baggers and home runs in a manner beautiful to see. Mr. Verder, too, was a good player, while Dr. Smith, laying aside his eye-glasses, would occasionally consent to go into the field and excitedly muff everything that came in his direction. Mr. Thorpe was the camp champion at ring toss, and Mr. Ellery was never defeated at shovelboard.
The afternoons were given over to baseball, or tennis, or boating, if the weather permitted, or, if it rained, to fishing for bass, pickerel, perch, and chub in the lake, or to the playing of games or reading in the recreation-hall or dormitories. But always, rain or fine, there was a bath at five oclock, which few missed.
By the end of his first week at Chicora Nelson was thoroughly at home, and any doubts he may have entertained as to his liking the place and the fellows had vanished. It was a healthy life. He was out-of-doors all day long, and even at night he could scarcely consider himself housed. He went bareheaded, barelegged, and barearmed, and rapidly acquired a coat of tan of which he was very proud. He went to every meal famished, and jumped into bed at night in a condition of physical weariness that brought instant slumber. And he made friends on all sides. The closest of these were Bob Hethington and Tom Ferris. But there was one other who, if as yet scarcely a bosom friend, had captured Nelsons respect and liking; and that one was Dan Speede.
After the incident of the placard in Maple Hall Dan had not offered to molest Nelson in any way during the two days following; neither had he appeared to take any notice of him. But on the evening of the second day Nelson was coming back from the dormitory after supper when he met Dan.
Youre the fellow I was looking for, Dan announced in quite the most cordial manner in the world. Want to go down to the Inn with me in the dory? Im going to take a note for Clint.
Nelson hesitated.
I dont believe I can, Speede. I promised Bob Hethington to help him mend his camera.
Oh, let that go. Ill ask him to come along.
Well, said Nelson.
Bob consented, and the three tumbled into the dory and set out. The distance to the Chicora Inn landing was short, if you kept along the shore; but Dan suggested prolonging the trip by going around Bass Island, with the result that they navigated most of the upper end of the lake before they reached their destination. Dan was evidently on his best behavior, for the trip was completed without misadventure, and they got back to camp just as assembly sounded.
After that Nelson and Dan saw a good deal of each other, and the more they were together the more Nelson liked the big, handsome, red-headed fellow with the clear blue eyes, and began to understand him better. There wasnt a grain of meanness in his make-up. The jokes he was forever playing were usually harmless enough, and served as outlets for an oversupply of animal spirits. Nelson thought he had never seen a fellow more full of life, more eager for adventure and fun, than Dan. He would go almost any length to secure a laugh, even if it was against himself, and toil for days at a time to bring about an event promising excitement. He seemed to be absolutely without fear, and no one ever saw him really angry.
Nelsons liking for Dan was not, however, altogether shared by Bob, who dubbed Dans tricks and jokes kiddish, and usually treated him with a sort of contemptuous indifference. As a rule he avoided Dans society, and finally Nelson was torn between his allegiance to Bob and his liking for Dan. Affairs stood thus when, about two weeks after Nelsons arrival, the election of captain of the baseball team came off, and Dan played a card which, if it did not at once gain Bobs friendship, at least commanded his gratitude.
At camp-fire Mr. Clinton announced that he had received a note from Camp Wickasaw asking when Chicora would be ready to arrange a series of ball games with them.
Last year, said the Chief, as those of you know who were here then, Wickasaw won all three games from us. Theres no disgrace in being beaten, but its lots more fun to beat. So this year lets see if we cant do better. They have fewer fellows than we have, and last year we allowed them to play their councilors. I guess it was that that beat us. But it was only fair, and unless you fellows object they will make use of the same privilege this year. How about it? and Mr. Clinton looked about the fire-lit group questioningly.
Let them use them, sir, exclaimed one of the boys. We can beat them anyhow.