CHAPTER III
GETTING SETTLED
Half an hour later Ira was the proud possessor-- Now that's what comesof using phrases. It's a poor habit. As a matter of honest fact, noone could have been really proud of the articles purchased in Mr.Joseph Jacobs' Second-hand Emporium. First, there were the remains ofa window seat. Ira had viewed it distastefully until Johnston--it haddeveloped that his first name was Martin and that he was usually calledMart--assured him that with a hammer and four nails and a bit o' luckhe could fix it as good as new. Then came a leather couch. The frame,springs and hair were quite serviceable, but the leather--well, Martsaid it was a "crime," and we'll let it go at that. "But," he pointedout, "all you've got to do is throw something over it, old man, andno one will know. Haven't you some trifle like a Paisley shawl or aPersian rug about your person? Never mind, we'll find something. Andfive dollars is dirt cheap for it. Why, it's worth that much for fuel,and you want to remember that you've got a perfectly good grate to feedwhen Winter comes. We'll take it, Jacobs."
The easy-chair was not as easy as it looked. About the only thing easy,except its appearance, was the price. It was one of those brown-oakcontraptions with a back that let down to form various angles withthe seat. Unfortunately each succeeding angle was more uncomfortablethan the last. "Old Man Mission," observed Mart, "may have been adandy carpenter, but he was a mighty poor comforter!" They picked upsome hanging book shelves for sixty cents and two rugs only half wornout for a dollar apiece and, finally, an oak table-desk with a columnof drawers at one side, one of which would open without the use of ajimmy. Leaving instructions to have the furniture delivered not laterthan five o'clock, they returned to "Maggy's."
Mart heroically paid Mrs. Magoon a dollar, much to that lady'sbewilderment, and then they went up to the room. A decrepit walnutwashstand was already in place, but Ira couldn't see that its presenceadded much to the apartment. They tried it in three places and at lastreturned it to its original position, restoring the casters which ithad sprinkled around the room in its travels. Then Mart threw himselfinto the plush chair and stretched his legs out and viewed the roomthoughtfully.
"Better make a list of things to buy, old man," he advised. "All ready?Paper of tacks and a hammer--better get a real hammer and not one ofthose playthings; a hammer's always useful--, two brass curtain rods--By Crickey, we forgot curtains! Never mind, though, we'll get those atAlston's. We can get the rods there, too. And you'd ought to have acloth for that table. Every fellow ought to have a cloth on his table,I should think. And--let's see--" He looked around the room inquiringly.
"I guess that's enough for today," said Ira. "The next thing is to getmy trunk over from the station. I suppose there's an expressman aroundsomewhere."
"Come on down with me at five and give your check to Harris. He doesmost of the school work and won't mind lugging it up two flights. Someof them expect ten cents more for that. Let's get cooled off a bit andthen buy the curtains, eh? Curtains will make a lot of difference, Itell you! I'll borrow a yard-stick or something from Maggy and measurethe windows."
When that had been done they sailed forth again. There was oneexcellent feature about Ira's abode, and that was its convenienceto the shops. Alston's dry goods store was only a half block away,across School Street, and soon they were viewing muslin and scrimcurtains which an obliging saleslady hung over big brass rods. Martfound that he might as well have spared himself the trouble of takingmeasurements, for the curtains were all the same length. They finallyselected two pairs of what the young lady called "cross-barred muslin"and purchased rods and fixtures. Subsequently they visited a hardwarestore and bought the hammer and the paper of tacks and a small quantityof nails. When they got back to Number 200 Main Street they found anexpressman struggling upstairs with the leather couch, followed grimlyby the landlady who exhorted him at every step to "mind the plasternow!"
When the new purchases were in place the room did look a lot better,and when Mart had, after much difficulty, put up the rods and pinnedthe curtains over them the two boys viewed the result with deepsatisfaction. "It's the little touches that do it," proclaimed Mart."Now when we get a cloth----"
But they had forgotten the cloth for the table, as well as the "drape"for the couch, and had also neglected to provide anything in the way ofa cushion for the window seat. "But Rome was not built in a day," saidMart cheerfully. "I forget how long it took, but it was more likelya week. Now, in a week you won't know this place, Rowland. Got anypictures to hang on this lovely yaller paper?"
"No, but I can get some," answered Ira, regarding the paperdistastefully. "Wish I could get enough to hide the walls entirely!"
"Put up half a dozen and hang a pennant over the door and stick a fewposters around and you won't notice the walls at all. And if I were youI'd buy a can of brown paint and go over this border again. That colouron there now makes me sort of faint. What time might it be?"
"Twenty to five."
"Geewhillikins! Where's the afternoon got to? Here, I'll knock thiswindow seat together and then beat it. Where's that hammer? Don't tellme--Oh, all right! Toss it over. Nails? Thank you, sir. Now then, yourickety, tumble-down, lob-sided bunch of boards, how do you go, anyhow?I say, Rowland, there's a leg missing! I didn't notice that, did you?Never mind. It won't matter if you don't sit on that corner, and sometime you can nail a piece of board on there. Say, this thing is aregular Chinese puzzle! Know what I think? Well, I think he's gone andsold us parts of two different seats!"
But he wronged Mr. Jacobs, for ultimately the sections fitted together,and when they did the two boys looked at the result in silence and thenburst into howls of laughter. The window seat had been built for acorner! No matter how they struggled with it it remained L-shaped! Ifhalf of it ran across a window the other half stuck out into the roomat right angles like a sore thumb! Ira subsided on the bed and Martsprawled himself on the floor and they laughed until they were weak.
"Well," said Mart finally, "either you've got to change your room orthis seat, and I guess the seat's the easier. Now look here. If we turnthis end around, so, and tack a couple of short boards on here----"
"Oh, don't!" begged Ira. "Don't spoil it! It--it's beautiful!"
"Oh, well, if you won't be serious," laughed Mart, dropping his hammer."Let's leave it until tomorrow. I've got to meet Brad at five-twelve.Put your hat on and come along. Bring your trunk check, by the way.Hang it, quit laughing! Get a move on, you--you idjit!"
"Y-yes, but--but look at it, Johnston!" gasped Ira. "Isn't it--_funny_?"
"It's killing," agreed the other, grinning. "I say, why not leave itthat way just for a joke?"
"I--I'm going to! I--l-like it!"
"Well, don't cry, old man! Pull yourself together! Here's your hat. Nowcome on. We've only got eight minutes."
The railway station was four blocks south and by the time Ira hadarranged for the delivery of his trunk and rescued his suitcase fromthe parcel room those eight minutes were gone and the express wasrumbling in. Mart left Ira at the waiting-room door, with instructionsnot to move until he returned, and was presently pushing his waythrough the throng of arriving students in search of his roommate. Ira,however, concluded that he would only be in the way. The chums would ofcourse have lots to say to each other and he didn't believe that eitherof them would really be any happier for his presence. So, before thenew arrivals had more than overflowed the platform, he was on his wayuptown again, the heavy suitcase, into which at the last moment he hadforced a lot of things that had been intended for the trunk, tuggingat his arm. Station carriages, filled to capacity with merry youths,began to pass him before he reached Main Street and turned toward hislodgings, but he saw nothing of Mart.
He had a bath in the wonderful enamelled tub on the floor below andfelt cooler and generally better for it. After he had returned tohis room and made himself as comfortable on the bed as the hard,lumpy mattress would allow he heard the sound of arrivals. Voices andfootsteps and the banging of doors came to h
im. Downstairs a spiritedbattle began for the possession of the bathroom. Across the hall fromhis closed door a youth with a strident voice sang loudly and openedand shut drawers most ungently. In spite of the noise, Ira, who hadslept but poorly on the train the night before, drowsed off presentlyand knew no more until there came a banging at his portal. Half awake,he admitted the expressman with his trunk, paid for it in a stupor andthen subsided on it to gather his faculties. His blinking gaze restedon the window seat and he began to chuckle at the perfectly idiotic wayin which it thrust one decrepit end into the room. By that time he wassufficiently awake to find his key and open the trunk, after which hedonned fresh underwear and his second-best suit of blue serge, sprucedhimself up and thought of supper. However, there was no great hurryabout that, he concluded. Since he had decided to get his meals at therestaurants for awhile he was not required to observe regular hours. Itwas only a little past six, and there was his trunk to unpack and histhings to find places for.
The closet, although short on hooks, was roomy. He made a mentalmemoranda to buy some hooks tomorrow and in the meanwhile "doubledup" with what there were. The bureau drawers stuck abominably, but heat last conquered them and arranged his possessions within. Books,of which he had brought a good many, were equally divided betweenbookcase and shelves. (He wondered why he had bought the shelves untilhe remembered that he hadn't; that Mart Johnston had bought them!) Byhalf-past six the nearly empty trunk was pushed out of sight in thecloset, his few toilet things decorated the marble top of the bureau,sponge and toothbrush reposed on the washstand and, in short, he wassettled.
The room really began to look a bit homelike, he concluded, viewing itcritically from what would have been the hearth-rug had he possessedsuch a thing. He would have to get something to hide the tattered andtorn leather on the couch, and a cloth for the hideous walnut table;and, of course, there was that ridiculous window seat! He had to smileevery time his eyes fell on it, but for some reason it seemed quite themost companionable article of furniture in sight. He decided that hewould find an upholsterer and have a good cushion made for it, and thenhe would buy some pillows. Probably, he reflected, he would fall overthe protruding end of the crazy thing a dozen times in the next week.If only----
And right there a brilliant idea struck him! "Why, of course!" heexclaimed. He tugged and pushed the oak desk alongside the end ofthe seat that ran out from the wall, restored the walnut table toits erstwhile position in the middle of the rug, placed the plusheasy-chair beside it and there you were! That put his desk between thewindows, with the light coming over his left shoulder very nicely, andmade a back for the homeless end of the window seat. And it lookedgreat! He was quite proud of that arrangement and went out in search ofsupper very cheerfully.
He found a lunch room around the corner on Linden Street and, probablymore because he was really hungry than because the food was especiallygood, made an excellent repast, with an evening paper propped upagainst the vinegar cruet. It was nearly eight when he wandered backto his lodging through the warm, quiet evening. Most of the storeson Main Street were closed, but a few windows still threw floods ofyellow radiance across the brick sidewalks. Doorsteps held familygroups, quite as if Summer had not gone, and children played along thepavement. An old-fashioned lantern with a gas jet sizzling inside ithung above the door of Number 200 and threw a wavering, uncertain lighton the four creaking steps. As Ira passed into the hall the door of thetailor's shop was open and he saw a little hunchbacked man of uncertainage and nationality working steadily and swiftly over a pressing board.On each floor a dim gaslight flickered, but for most of the distanceeach flight was in darkness and he made his way upwards warily, aguiding hand on the banister rail.
Halfway up the second flight he heard Mrs. Magoon's voice. It soundedquerulous, even a trifle resentful. The next moment another voice brokein angrily, and Ira reached the third floor and viewed an astoundingscene. In the doorway of his room, seated determinedly on a smalltrunk, with a bag on his knees, was a boy of perhaps sixteen. In frontof him stood Mrs. Magoon, her hands wrapped in her apron. At the soundof his footsteps both actors in the little drama staged on his doorsillturned their heads and regarded him, the boy with an expression ofdogged defiance and Mrs. Magoon with very evident relief.