CHAPTER VII
THE FIGHT
When Ira awoke the next morning an expression of Mart Johnston's cameto him. "You've got a good day for it!" It certainly was a good day,for the early morning sky was cloudless and swept by a crisp breezethat held enough tingle as it came through the window to make him hurrya bit with his dressing. He managed to get through his ablutions andput his clothes on without disturbing Nead, and at twenty minutes pastsix he closed the door quietly behind him and went cautiously down thedim stairways. Main Street was for the most part still asleep, althougha few yawning persons were opening stores for the day's trade. He foundhimself whistling a tune as he turned into Linden Street and realisedthat it was rather an incongruous thing to do under the circumstances.He ought, he told himself, to plan his battle and keep his mind onfeints and leads. But the morning was too fine for that and he didn'tfeel in the least sanguinary. He would much have preferred a long walkinto the country.
There was no sign of Goodloe when he reached the West Gate, and he hadbegun to hope that that youth had overslept when he caught sight of himrunning down the steps of Williams Hall. Goodloe waved a greeting as hehurried up, still buttoning his waistcoat.
"Sorry if I'm late," he said as he joined Ira. "I came mighty nearmissing it. Fred wouldn't let me set the alarm clock and I'm not muchgood at waking up myself. Say, it's a peach of a morning, isn't it? Ifwe cut through here it's nearer, Rowland."
He led the way down a sort of lane beside an old white house on AppleStreet and they squeezed themselves between the bars of a gate.
"I suppose you went to Jud's reception last night?" asked Goodloe. "Iwent last year. He asked a lot of us over to give the glad hand to thenew boys, but Halden--he was baseball captain last year--and a lot moreof us made such inroads on the refreshments that we didn't get askedthis time. I suppose Mrs. Jud asked you to tea?"
"Yes, she did. On Friday, I think it was. I'm not sure whether I saidI'd come or not."
"It doesn't matter. She doesn't expect you. No one ever goes. Notmore than once, anyhow. She makes you do things: sing or recite ordo card tricks. She means well; in fact she's a nice little person,Mrs. Jud; but it's a nuisance. Ned Mailman went the first time he wasasked and recited Casey at the Bat with the aid of an umbrella out ofthe stand in the hall, and knocked about sixty-eleven dollars worth ofbric-a-brac off the mantel! Here we are!"
They had crossed a field during Goodloe's chatter and now were makingtheir way past the old workings of a brick-yard, skirting a clay pitthat was half full of water and a tumble-down shed littered with brokenbricks. Further on was a small building in a fair state of repair, savefor the windows which had been practically denuded of glass, and to theback of this Goodloe cheerfully led the way.
"Out of sight of the world," he announced. "There have been morescraps pulled off here than you can shake a stick at. It used to bea brick-yard, but now it's a scrap yard." Goodloe removed his coatand waistcoat and hung them carefully from a nail against the side ofthe shed. "There's a nail for you," he said, pointing. "We don't getchecks, but they'll be safe." He put his hat over his garments and drewhis belt in another hole.
Certainly, reflected Ira, the place was private enough. The shed cutoff all sight of the school, the street and the nearer houses, whilein other directions a young growth of birch and oak which had sprungup since the yard's activities had ceased effectually screened them.The morning sunshine fell warmly on the little space of hard-troddenclay and the side of the shed, turning the weathered, grey boards ofthe latter to pale gold. Ira removed his coat and vest and hat and hungthem beside Goodloe's. He didn't cinch in his belt because he didn'twear one, but he did shorten his suspenders a little.
"I needn't tell you, I guess," observed Goodloe, "that it won't doto be seen around school with our faces messed up. After honour issatisfied we'd better look each other over and do the first-aid act. Iffaculty sees us with our eyes bruised it'll get to asking questions.All ready? Shake hands, do we? Fine! I suppose hitting in the clinchesis barred, eh?"
"Just as you like," answered Ira.
"Well, it's more shipshape to break away, I guess. We might as well actlike gentlemen even if it hurts us! Let her go, Rowland!"
Goodloe had been smiling genially thus far, and the smile on his facestill continued now, but his eyes narrowed a little as he steppedwarily back and raised his guard. Ira, for his part, experienced astrong desire to laugh, for the humour of the affair struck him harderthan before. But he tried to look grave as he faced his antagonist andwaited for the latter to begin. It soon became evident, though, thatGoodloe was also waiting. In the course of the first thirty seconds ofthat remarkable meeting they each completed one circuit of the "ring"without offering a blow.
"Come on!" said Goodloe encouragingly.
"Come on yourself," replied Ira grinning.
Goodloe grunted. "I suppose someone's got to start it," he muttered.He feinted with his right and landed a light tap on Ira's shoulder anddanced away before Ira could reach him. He came back and they eachsparred for an opening until Ira landed a weak left to the neck.
"Short," said Goodloe. "You're quick on your feet for a big chap. I'llhave to watch you."
He rushed in and managed to reach Ira's chin, but the blow was halfblocked and scarcely jarred the recipient, and Ira landed twice on thebody before Goodloe retreated. More circling then, each watching theother warily, and then a half-hearted rush by Goodloe that failed tobeat down Ira's guard. Half a dozen quick blows were given by each,but the blocking was good and neither got home.
More circling then, each watching the other warily]
"This is a perfect farce," declared Goodloe mournfully. "You're nothalf fighting, confound you!"
"Neither are you," replied Ira, laughing.
They drew off by common consent, panting a little, but more from theircircling than their sparring, and viewed each other. Goodloe shook hishead discouragedly. "You'll have to do better than you've been doing,Rowland," he complained. "Can't you hand me one on the face? I can't doit all, you know."
"I don't see that you've done any of it yet," said Ira indignantly. "Ifyou want to fight go ahead and fight. I'm not stopping you."
"Well, but--hang it, Rowland, I can't smash a fellow unless he doessomething to get me worked up! Why don't you start something?"
"Why don't you?"
"Why, it isn't my row!"
Ira burst out laughing. "Whose is it, then?"
"Yours, of course. You said you wanted to fight----"
"_I_ said so! When?"
"Well, that note said so, then."
"I said I'd meet you whenever you liked," protested Ira. "You don'tcall that a--a challenge, do you?"
"N-no, maybe not, but it sort of sounded as if you wanted to finish upthe scrap we started, and I couldn't very well refuse, could I? If youdidn't want to fight what the dickens did you get me out of bed for atthis unearthly hour?" Goodloe sounded pained and pathetic.
"That was your suggestion," answered Ira. "I wasn't crazy aboutscrapping before breakfast, or any other time."
"Then--then you don't want to fight?" demanded Goodloe.
"I'm not a bit keen about it," laughed Ira. "I was only obliging you,Goodloe."
"Well, I'll be blowed! What do you know about that? Thunderation, Idon't want to fight you! Why should I? I made an ass of myself theother day and got knocked down, but I deserved it, and I've said so.You--you're quite sure you don't want to go ahead?"
"Quite, thanks. I'd rather have some breakfast."
Goodloe grinned. "So would I," he said heartily. "Tell you what,Rowland. We'll go down to The Eggery and have some coffee and cakesand a few trimmings. What do you say? I don't believe I want to go todining hall this morning."
"All right. That suits me. Let's get there. I'm as hungry as a bear!"
"Me, too! Say, it looks to me as if we were a couple of silly chumps!"Goodloe chuckled as he handed Ira his hat. "For the love of Pete, don'tlet this out or we'll be
a regular laughing-stock! If Fred Lyons evergot onto this he'd never let up on me!"
"Is he the football captain?" asked Ira as he pulled his vest on.
"Yes. We room together. You ought to know him, Rowland. He's a dandyold scout. Tell you what! You run around tonight and meet him, eh? Iwish you would. You'd like him. Come over about eight, will you?"
"Thanks, I'd like to. Now which is the shortest way to The Eggery?"
Ten minutes later they were seated at opposite sides of a small tablein the restaurant and no one of the patrons would have suspected themof having lately met on the field of honour. For they were talking asamicably as though they were old friends while they consumed theirbuckwheat cakes with maple sirup and drank their piping hot coffee. Andafterwards, when they had supplemented the main part of the repastwith three doughnuts apiece and had ordered more coffee, they still satthere chatting and laughing.
"I wish," said Ira, at last approaching a question he had had on hismind to ask for some time, "I wish you'd tell me something."
"Will if I can," answered Gene. "Shoot."
"Well, it's about my--about that suit I had on the other day. I supposeit doesn't look just right, Goodloe, but what's the trouble with it?"
"Why--er--if you want the truth, Rowland, it's too small for you. Itlooks as if you'd grown about six inches since you got it."
"Oh! Yes, I guess I have. I've had it two years, about. I realise thatmy things don't look like what you fellows wear. I dare say even thesearen't--aren't quite right, eh?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to say that," responded Gene cautiously.
"Well, are they? I thought they were yesterday morning, but they don'tseem to look just--just proper."
"Perhaps they're a wee bit--er--skimpy," allowed Gene, evidentlyanxious not to hurt the other's feelings. "Did you have them made foryou or--or just buy them?"
"I bought them ready-made. I never had a suit made to order. You see,Cheney Falls is just a village and the only tailor there would probablydie of fright if you asked him to make a suit of clothes for you! I gotthese in Bangor. The man I got them of said they were fine; said theyfitted perfectly. But I guess they don't, eh?"
"Well, n-no, they don't, Rowland; not perfectly. If I were you I'dtake them to a tailor here and let him take a fall out of them. If youwant a suit built, try Dodge, on Adams Street, next door to the MusicHall. He does a lot of work for the fellows and is pretty good, and hedoesn't charge terribly much, either."
"I guess I will," answered Ira. "I mean, have these doctored. MaybeI'll get me a new suit, too, later. How much does he charge?"
"Oh, he'll build you a mighty good one for thirty-five."
"Thirty-five!" exclaimed Ira. "Gee! These only cost eighteen!"
"Yes, but what Dodge will turn out will outwear that suit two to oneand, besides, it'll fit you, Rowland. You won't have to pay the wholebill right away if you don't want to, only you mustn't tell faculty. Itdoesn't approve of the fellows running accounts."
"Oh, if I got it I'd pay cash, I guess."
"It's best to," agreed Gene. "I used to charge things all over the shopwhen I first came, but I was always scared that faculty would get on toit. Besides, I had a fierce time getting my bills paid off at the endof the year. Well, I must be starting back. Put your money up, please.This is my treat."
"Oh, no! I'd rather not!"
"Can't help it, old man. As the challenged party I have the choice ofweapons, and I choose to defeat you with cash." He had already seizedIra's check and so the latter gave in, although a bit uncomfortably.Still, the breakfasts had been only thirty cents apiece, so perhapsit didn't much matter. They parted outside, Gene reminding Ira of hisagreement to call that evening, and went their separate ways. When Iragot back to the room he found Humphrey just starting out for breakfast.
"Well, what happened to you?" he demanded. "Been catching worms?"
"I got up early," replied Ira. "I've had breakfast."
"You have? What's the idea? Didn't you have enough dinner last night tohold you for a while?"
"Yes, but--it was a fine morning and--Say, we ought to get a cushionfor that window seat today."
"You get it," said Humphrey. "I'm going to be busy this afternoon. I'vegot a date with a fellow."
"All right. I'll try to get out of it cheap."
"You'd better. I don't intend to spend much money on this dive. Itisn't worth it."
"Why, I thought it was beginning to look pretty nice," replied Ira."When you get your pictures up----"
"Oh, it'll do, I suppose. Well, I'm off to feed. Don't want to comealong, do you?"
"No, thanks. I'm going to do a little studying before first hour."
"I wish you'd do some for me. I haven't looked into a book yet. Solong!"
Ira had plenty to keep him busy until three that day. He had aconsultation at half-past eleven with Mr. McCreedy, his adviser, and inconsequence made one or two alterations in his elective courses. TheMathematics instructor was a youngish man with a sort of cut-and-driedmanner that Ira found unsympathetic. But the advice was good and Mr.McCreedy begged Ira to look him up frequently and not to hesitate toconsult him on any matter at any time. In the afternoon--studies wenteasily enough as yet--Ira found himself at a loose end, although onecould, of course, always "grind." But "grinding" didn't appeal to himon such a day, and he wandered around to the playfield again and lookedon at football practice for awhile. Several fellows nodded to him,and some spoke, for he had made acquaintances in classroom and at thePrincipal's reception. But he met no one he knew well enough to talkto, and about four he returned to his lodging to get the measurementsfor the window-seat cushion. When he opened the door he was surprisedto find that the odour of stale cigarette smoke still lingered, inspite of wide-open windows. There was a brief note from Humphrey askinghim to meet him there at six for supper. He arranged at a furniturestore for the cushion and then went back and finished that letter tohis father. As he had a good deal to write, it was six o'clock beforehe had reached the last of the twelve pages. He waited until half-pastfor Humphrey and then, as that youth was still absent, sallied forthalone. He was quite as well satisfied, for Humphrey was inclined to eatbigger suppers than he needed, and Ira, after buying an evening paper,sought The Eggery and did very well at an expense of twenty cents.At half-past seven, having brushed his blue suit and his shoes andhis hair, and changed his tie for one more after the fashion of thoseaffected at Parkinson, he started out for Gene Goodloe's room.