CHAPTER IX
A BOY GUARDIAN
The conductor grinned and the passengers roared with laughter when thefarmer explained the incident. Even the glum-faced stepson of the narratorroused up into some interest.
"Thankee, neighbor," spoke the farmer, effusively grasping Frank's hand."You're the right sort, sure enough--eyes wide open and up to snuff. GuessI'd better keep close to home after this. I ain't to be trusted along withthem gold-brick fellows."
The old man took a great fancy to Frank and became quite confidential withhim. He piled candy and peanuts on him from the train boy's supply, invitedhim to the farm, and wanted to know Frank's name so he could tell the folksabout him.
"I am Frank Jordan, live at Tipton, and am bound for school at Bellwood,"said Frank.
"Hey! how--what?" exclaimed the farmer explosively. "You don't mean to saythat you're traveling to school, too?"
"Yes," replied Frank. "But who else do you mean?"
"Why, my son, Robert, over there--Robert Upton. Now, isn't it funny--he'sgoing right to the very school you are?"
"To Bellwood?"
"That's the name--Bellwood is the place," assented Mr. Upton. "Wish you'dtell me what you know about it."
"I don't know anything about it, except what I've read and what I've heardfrom friends who went there," said Frank. But it seemed he had enoughinformation to quite interest the farmer. Then the latter told him abouthis stepson.
"Robert's been no good at home," he said. "You can see what a sulky,unsociable fellow he is. No interest in nothing--thinks everybody hateshim, and won't make up to anybody. He says he'll run away if I put him inschool. If he does, I certainly will put him in the reformatory until he'sof age."
Frank stole a rather pitying glance at the lad. The latter was hunched downin his seat, his hands rammed into his pockets, looking bored andmiserable. Frank wondered what kind of a queer make-up his nature could be,to mope and scowl that bright, beautiful day, with the prospect of theuseful chance for study and the gay life of schoolboy sport.
"Why, say," suddenly ejaculated Farmer Upton, starting under the spur ofsome exciting idea, "why can't Robert go with you to Bellwood?"
"He is doing so, isn't he?" said Frank with a smile.
"I mean why can't you sort of take charge of him and introduce him around,and save me the time and the expense. You see, if I go with him I can't gethome until to-morrow. I can get off the train at Chester, and not buy anyticket to Bellwood, but go right back home. I've made all the arrangementsfor him by letter at Bellwood. The only reason I was going with him was todeliver him into the hands of the teachers and give them an inkling of whata troublesome fellow he is."
"Doesn't it strike you that that would hurt his chances with them anddiscourage him?" suggested Frank.
"I never thought of that."
"Excuse me, Mr. Upton," said Frank, "but maybe you're too hard on yourstepson. It's hard to understand people, and a boy is a queer make-up. Iwill be glad to have him come with me to Bellwood, and I'll put myself outto make it agreeable for him."
"But he won't be agreeable; that's the trouble, you see," declared thefarmer. "When he gets in one of them tantrums of his, you simply can'treason with him."
"Well, I'll take charge of him, if you don't wish to make the long journey,Mr. Upton."
"I'll never know how to thank you, if you will," said the farmergratefully. "Hi, there, Robert."
"Me?" droned the boy in the seat across the aisle.
"Who else do you suppose?" snapped his stepfather testily. "Come, rout outthere, or I'll unhitch a strap somewhere and make you step lively."
Frank made up his mind that he would interest himself in the drifting waifof a fellow. As he thought of the big, husky farmer and his houseful ofgrown sons and daughters, he wondered if in their rough, unthinking waythey had not quite broken the spirit of the motherless lad in their midst.
"Sit down here," ordered the farmer, turning the seat so it faced Frank."This boy is going to Bellwood, Robert. He's agreed to take you along withhim, and I'm going back home."
Robert shot a glance of dislike and suspicion at Frank, as if he was a linkin a chain of jailers waiting for him along the line of life.
"You behave yourself along with him down at the academy, or I'll put you inthe reform school," threatened the farmer harshly.
"Oh, give Bob something to think of that's pleasant," put in Frankcheerily. "It's a scary thing for a fellow, first time he goes amongstrangers. I'm bracing up myself to meet the rollicking, mischief-makingcrowd at Bellwood, who will just be lying in wait to guy us and haze us.We'll stand together, Bob, hey? and give them good as they send," and Frankslapped the lad on the shoulder, with a ringing laugh.
"They won't haze me," muttered Bob.
"Yes, they will, and then you and I will lay around to haze the new fellowswho came after us," cried Frank. "Ha! ha! you'll see some fun down atBellwood, Bob. They're a capital set of fellows, I'm told. We'll make thebest of them, anyhow, and the best of ourselves. Come, friend Bob, we'llstick together and get all the fun out of life we can. Chums, is it?"
Frank was irresistible in his cheery, open-hearted good nature. Bob wasashamed to refuse his hand, but the set, glum look on his face did notlighten.
They had to change cars at a place called Chester. The farmer gave Frankminute instructions as to his charge. He went over his "perky meanness" inall its details, and he said to his stepson at parting:
"Now, then, you've got your chance to make a man of yourself. Any tantrums,and you'll hear from me quick, and hot and heavy."
This was his parental farewell, and Frank felt truly sorry for poor Bob,who, with all his sullenness, seemed entitled to a little better treatment.
After Farmer Upton had left them, Frank tried to break in on his stepson'ssulky reserve, but failed utterly. Bob drew within himself. He madeungracious replies to questions put to him when Frank tried to interesthim, and about two o'clock went over to a vacant seat and curled up in itand went fast asleep.
It was about six o'clock when the train pulled into Bellwood. Frank foundit to be a quaint, pretty town with delightful country surrounding it.
"Come on, Bob," he spoke as they stepped to the depot platform; "we mustarrange to have our trunks sent up to the academy."
"You've got my check," said Bob. "You can attend to all that; I'll waithere."
"Oh, no," replied Frank lightly, "we'll stick together until we getlanded."
He was determined to afford his companion no opportunity to stray off.There was a look in Bob Upton's eye that recalled the oft-repeatedinjunction of his stepfather to watch out for "tantrums."
Frank arranged for the delivery of the trunks, and then made an inquiry ofa truckman as to the location of Bellwood School. The man pointed out itstowers about half a mile away.
They passed through the business part of the little town. At the villagepost-office several boys were waiting for their mail. They looked thenewcomers over, but did not address them, and in a few minutes Frank andBob found themselves pursuing a path following the windings of a littlestream.
"We'll soon be there," announced Frank as they came to where on a slightrise of landscape the academy buildings stood pretty plainly in view."What's the matter, Bob?"
The latter had halted in a peculiar, positive way. He backed slightly. Hiseye was defiant and determined now, instead of sullen.
"The matter is this," he announced bluntly. "I don't intend to go to thatschool."