CHAPTER IV--KEWPIE STARTS SOMETHING
The twins stared silently and suspiciously for an instant. Then Ned madecautious response.
"Hello," he said, with what must have seemed to the visitor a lamentablelack of cordiality.
The latter pushed the door shut behind him by the kick of one stockingedfoot, and grinned jovially. "My name's Proudtree," he announced.
"You can't blame us," replied Laurie, coldly.
Proudtree laughed amiably. "It is a rotten name, isn't it? I live acrossthe corridor, you know. Thought I'd drop in and get acquainted, seeingyou're new fellows; extend the hand of friendship and all that. Youunderstand. By Jove, Pringle was right, too!"
"That's fine," said Ned, with more than a trace of sarcasm. "Whatabout?"
"Why," answered Proudtree, easing his generous bulk into a chair, "hesaid you fellows were twins."
"Not only were," said Laurie, gently, "but are. Don't mind, do you?"
"Oh, come off your horse," begged the visitor. "Don't be so cocky. Who'ssaid anything? I just wanted to have a look. Never saw any twinsbefore--grown-up twins, I mean. You understand."
"Thought you said you came to extend the hand of friendship," retortedNed, sarcastically. "Well, have a good look, partner. There's nocharge!"
Proudtree grinned and accepted the invitation. Ned fumed silently underthe inspection, but Laurie's sense of humor came to his aid. Proudtreeappeared to be getting a lot of entertainment from his silent comparisonof his hosts, and presently, when Ned's exasperation had just aboutreached the explosive point, he chuckled.
"I've got it," he said.
"Got what?" Laurie asked.
"The--the clue! I know how to tell you apart! His eyes are differentfrom yours; more blue. Yours are sort of gray. But, geewhillikins, itmust be a heap of fun! Being twins, I mean. And fooling people. Youunderstand."
"Well, if you're quite through," snapped Ned, "maybe you'll call it aday. We've got things to do."
"Meaning you'd like me to beat it?" asked the visitor, good-temperedly.
"Just that!"
"Oh, come, Ned," Laurie protested, soothingly, "he's all right. I daresay we are sort of freakish and--"
"Sure," agreed Proudtree, eagerly, "that's what I meant. But say, Ididn't mean to hurt any one's feelings. Geewhillikins, if I got waxyevery time the fellows josh me about being fat--" Words failed him andhe sighed deeply.
Laurie laughed. "We might start a side-show, the three of us, and make abit of money. 'Only ten cents! One dime! This way to the Siamese Twinsand the Fat Boy! Walk up! Walk up!'"
Proudtree smiled wanly. "I only weigh a hundred and seventy-eight andthree quarters, too," he said dolorously. "If I was a couple of inchestaller it wouldn't be so bad."
"I don't think it's bad as it is," said Laurie, kindly. "You don't lookreally _fat_; you just look sort of--of--"
"Amplitudinous," supplied Ned, with evident satisfaction.
Proudtree viewed him doubtfully. Then he smiled. "Well, I've got to getrid of nearly fifteen pounds in the next two weeks," he said, with ashake of his head, "and that's going to take some doing."
"What for?" Laurie asked. "Why destroy your symmetry?"
"Football. I'm trying for center. I nearly made it last year, butWiggins beat me out. He's gone now, though, and Mulford as good as saidlast spring that I could make it this fall if I could get down to ahundred and sixty-five."
"Who's Mulford?" inquired Ned. "A fortune-teller?"
Proudtree ignored the sarcasm. "Mulford's our coach. He's all right,too. The trouble with me is, I'm awfully fond of sweet things, andI--I've been eating a lot of 'em lately. But I guess I can drop fourteenpounds if I cut out pies and candy and things. Don't you think so?"Proudtree appealed to Laurie almost pathetically.
"Don't let any one tell you anything different," replied Laurie,reassuringly. Ned, evidently recovered from his peevishness, asked:
"What sort of football do they play here?"
"Corking!" answered Proudtree.
"I mean, Rugby or the other?"
"Rugby!" exclaimed Proudtree, scornfully. "I guess not! We play regularfootball. Nobody plays Rugby around these parts. Are you fellows goingout?"
"Not just yet," replied Ned.
"He means are we going to try for the football team," explained Laurie."Yes, we are, Proudtree; at least, one of us is."
"You?"
"We haven't decided yet. You see, we've never played your kind offootball. Back home, at high school, we played American Rugby, and it'squite different. But we decided that one of us had better go in forfootball and the other for baseball, if only to do our duty by theschool."
Proudtree looked puzzled. "How are you going to decide?" he asked.
"Oh, we'll toss up or draw lots or something, I suppose. Maybe, though,Ned had better play football, because I know more baseball than he does.Still, I'm not particular."
"That's the limit!" chuckled the visitor. "Say, what are your names? Ididn't see any cards on the door."
"Turner. His is Laurie and mine's Ned," answered the latter. "Do we putour names on the door?"
"It's the best way," answered Proudtree. "Well, I've got to be moving. Istarted to take a shower and got side-tracked. You chaps come on overand see me and I'll get some of the other fellows in. You want to meetthe right sort, you know. What's your class?"
"Lower middle, I reckon," said Ned. "That's what we expect."
"Too bad you can't make upper. That's mine. We've got a corking bunch offellows this year. Well, see you later. Try for Mr. Barrett's table whenyou go down. That's the best. Maybe they'll put you there if you bluffit out. You understand. So long, fellows."
Proudtree withdrew with considerable dignity in view of his bulk, wavinga benedictory hand ere the door closed behind him. Ned shook his head."Sort of a fresh hombre," he said.
"Oh, he only meant to be friendly, I reckon," said Laurie. "Youunderstand."
Ned laughed. "I'll bet they've got a wonderful football team here if heplays on it! By the way, maybe we'd better settle which of us is to bethe football star. I suppose they begin to practise pretty soon. I'll bethe goat, if you like; though you had better luck with that book youbought in Chicago. I couldn't make head or tail of it. I never saw somany rules for playing one game in my life!"
"It _was_ sort of difficult," agreed Laurie. "I dare say, though, thatyou pick up the rules quick enough when you start to play. If you don'treally mind, I think you'd better go in for football, and I'll do thebaseball stunt. I've played it more than you have, you know, even if I'mno wonder."
"All right!" Ned sighed. "We'll get a bottle of arnica to-morrow.Nothing like being prepared. How about going to see Mr. What's-his-namebefore supper about courses?"
"Might as well, and have it over with. I'd like to know whether we'regoing to make the lower middle."
"Don't see what else we can make. They can't stick us in the juniorclass. Where's my coat? For the love of lemons, Laurie, can't you findanything else to sit on? Gosh, look at the wrinkles!"
"Those aren't wrinkles; they're just creases. Come on!"
Half an hour later they closed the door of Mr. Cornish's study on thefloor below, in a chastened mood. Each carried a little buff cardwhereon the instructor had tabulated an amazing number and variety ofstudy periods. Back in Number 16, Ned cast himself into a chair, thrusthis legs forth, and gazed disconsolately at the card.
"I don't see where a fellow finds time for anything but work here," hecomplained. "Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one hours a week! What do youknow about that?"
"Well, don't be so proud of it. I've got the same, haven't I? I wonderhow many hours he thinks there are in a day?"
"I tell you what I think," said Ned, after a moment's thought. "I thinkhe got it into his head that we're very ambitious and want to graduatenext spring!"
"Maybe that's it," agreed Laurie, gravely. "Shall we go back and tellhim he's wrong?"
"N-no, let's not. He seemed a well-meaning old
codger, and I wouldn'twant to hurt his feelings--if he has any. Let's go down and see whatthey've got for supper."
Ned's blandishments failed with the waitress, and they were establishedat a table presided over by a tall and very thin gentleman, whose name,as they learned presently, was Mr. Brock. There were four tables in theroom, each accommodating ten boys and a member of the faculty.Diagonally across the dining-hall, the twins descried the ample Mr.Proudtree. Another table was in charge of a pleasant-faced woman whoproved to be the school matron, Mrs. Wyman. Mr. Cornish, the hallmaster, and Mr. Barrett sat at the heads of the remaining boards.
The room was very attractive, with a fine big stone fireplace at thefarther end, and broad windows on two sides. The food proved plain, butit was served in generous quantities; and notwithstanding that the twinswere a bit self-conscious, they managed a very satisfactory meal.
Their fellow-students seemed to be a very decent lot. Their agesappeared to average about sixteen, and they had the clean, healthy lookof boys who spent much of their time outdoors. At the table at which thetwins sat, four of the boys were evidently seniors, and one was asevidently a junior. The latter looked hardly more than thirteen, thoughhe was in reality a year older than that, and had the features andexpression of a cherub. The twins concluded that he was a new boy andfelt a little sorry for him. He looked much too young and innocent toface the world alone.
No one made any special effort to engage either Ned or Laurie inconversation, perhaps because the returning youths had so much to talkabout among themselves. Mr. Brock ate his supper in silence, save whenone of the older boys addressed him, and had a far-away and abstractedair. Laurie saw him sweeten his tea three times, and then frown inannoyance when he finally tasted it.
The boy who had guessed their awful secret at luncheon sat at the nexttable, and more than once Ned caught him looking across with ahalf-bewildered, half-frightened expression that somehow managed toconvey the intelligence that, in spite of temptation, he had kept thefaith. Ned finally rewarded him with a significant wink, and the youthretired in confusion behind the milk-pitcher.
When the meal was over the twins went outside and, following the exampleset by others, made themselves comfortable on the grass beyond the walk.Near by, two older boys were conversing earnestly, and Ned and Laurie,having exhausted their own subjects of conversation, found themselveslistening.
"We've got to do it," the larger of the two was saying. "Dave's going tocall a meeting of the school for Friday evening, and Mr. Wells is goingto talk to them. I'll talk too. Maybe you'd better, Frank. You can tellthem a funny story and get them feeling generous."
"Nothing doing, Joe. Leave me out of it. I never could talk from aplatform. Anyway, it's the fellows' duty to provide money. If theydon't, they won't have a team. They understand that--or they will whenyou tell them. There's another thing, though, Joe, that we've got tohave besides money, and that's material. We've _got_ to get more fellowsout."
"I know. I'll tell them that, too. I'm going to put a notice up inSchool Hall in the morning. Mr. Cummins says there are eight new fellowsentering the middle classes this year. Maybe some of them arefootball-players."
"Bound to be. Did you see the twins?"
"No, but Billy Emerson was telling me about them. What do they looklike?"
"Not bad. Rather light-weight, though, and sort of slow. They're fromArizona or somewhere out that way, I think. You can't tell them apart,Joe."
"Think they're football stuff?"
"Search me. Might be. They're light, though. Here comes Kewpie. Gosh,he's fatter than ever! Hi, Kewpie! Come over here!"
It was Proudtree who answered the hail, descended the steps, andapproached. "Hello, Joe! Hello, Frank! Well, here we are again, eh?Great to be back, isn't it? Have a good summer, Joe?"
"Fine! You?"
"Corking! I was on Dad's yacht all through August. Saw the races andeverything. Bully eats, too. You understand."
"Yes," Joe Stevenson replied, "and I understand why you're about twentypounds overweight, Kewpie! You ought to be kicked around the yard, youfat loafer. Thought you wanted to play center this fall."
"I'm going to! Listen, Joe, I'm only fourteen pounds over and I'll dropthat in no time. Honest, I will. You see! Besides, it isn't all fat,either. A lot of it's good, hard muscle."
"Yes, it is! I can see you getting muscle lying around on your father'syacht! I'm off you, Kewpie. You haven't acted square. You knew mightywell that you were supposed to keep yourself fit this summer, and nowlook at you! You're a big fat lump!"
"Aw, say, Joe! Listen, will you?" Proudtree's gaze wandered in search ofinspiration and fell on the twins. His face lighted. "Hello, you chaps!"he said. Then he leaned over and spoke to Joe. "Say, have you met theTurner brothers, Joe? One of 'em's a swell player. Played out in NorthDakota or somewhere."
"Which one?" asked Joe, surreptitiously eying the twins. "Why, the--Iforget: they look so much alike, you know. I think it's the one thisway. Or maybe it's the other. Anyway, I'll fetch them over, eh?"
"All right, Kewpie."
Kewpie started away, paused, and spoke again. "They're--they're awfullymodest chaps, Joe. You'd think from hearing them talk that they didn'tknow much about the game, but don't you be fooled. That's just theirway. You understand."
"Oh, sure, Kewpie!" And when the latter had gone on his errand Joesmiled and, lowering his voice, said to Frank Brattle: "Kewpie's tryingto put something over. I wonder what."
"Proudtree tells me one of you fellows plays football," said Joe, aminute later, when introductions had been performed and Ned and Lauriehad seated themselves. "We need good players this fall. Of course, Ihope you'll both come out."
"Ned's the football chap," said Laurie. "Baseball's my line."
"I don't know--" began Ned, but Laurie pinched him warningly, and hegulped and, to Kewpie's evident relief, made a fresh start. "I'm notmuch of a player," he said modestly, "but I'm willing to have a try atit."
Kewpie darted an "I-told-you-so" glance at Joe and Frank.
"Where do you come from, Turner?" Joe asked politely.
"Santa Lucia, California. I was in the high school there two years.Everything's quite--quite different here." Ned spoke hurriedly, asthough anxious to switch the conversation from football, and Lauriesmiled in wicked enjoyment. "The climate's different, you know," Nedwent on desperately, "and the country and--and everything."
"I suppose so," said Frank Brattle. "What's your position, Turner?"
"Position?"
"Yes; I mean, where did you play? Behind the line, I suppose, or maybeend."
"Oh, yes, yes, behind the line. You see, I--I--"
"There aren't many fellows can play half-back the way Ned can," saidLaurie, gravely. "He won't tell you so, but if you ever meet any one whosaw him play against Weedon School last year--"
"Shut up!" begged Ned, almost tearfully.
Kewpie was grinning delightedly. Joe Stevenson viewed Ned with absoluteaffection. "Half-back, eh? Well, we can use another good half, Turner,and I hope you're the fellow. I don't know whether Kewpie told you thatI'm captain this year, but I am, and I'm going to try mighty hard tocaptain a winning team. You look a bit light, but I dare say you'refast, and, for my part, I like them that way. Besides, we've got Masonand Boessel if we want the heavy sort. Practice starts to-morrow atfour, by the way. How about your brother? Glad to have him come out,too. Even if he hasn't played, he might learn the trick. And there'snext year to think of, you know."
"I think not, thanks," answered Laurie. "One football star is enough inthe family."
"Well, if you change your mind, come on and have a try. Glad to have metyou. See you to-morrow--er--Turner. I want to find Dave, Frank. Comingalong?"
The two older boys made off toward West Hall, and as soon as they wereout of hearing Ned turned indignantly on Laurie.
"You're a nice one!" he hissed. "Look at the hole you've got me in!'Half-back'! 'Played against Weedon School'! What did you want to talkthat w
ay for? Why, those fellows think I know football!"
"Cheer up," answered his brother, grinning. "All you've got to do isbluff it through. Besides, Proudtree asked us not to let on we didn'tknow a football from a doughnut, and I had to say something! You actedas if you were tongue-tied!"
"Yes; that's so--you started it!" Ned turned belligerently around. "Saidit would be a favor to you--" He stopped, discovering that Proudtree hadsilently disappeared and that he was wasting his protests on the emptyair. "Huh!" he resumed after a moment of surprise, "it's a good thing hedid beat it! Look here, Laurie, I'm in a beast of a mess. Yow know Ican't face that captain chap to-morrow. Suppose he handed me a footballand told me to kick it!"
"He won't. I've watched football practice back home. You'll stand aroundin a circle--"
"How the dickens can I stand in a circle?" objected Ned.
"And pass a football for a while. Then you'll try starting, and maybefall on the ball a few times, until you're nice and lame, and after thatyou'll run around the track half a dozen times--"
"Oh, shut up! You make me sick! I won't do it. I'm through. I'd lookfine, wouldn't I? I guess not, partner!"
"You've got to, Ned," replied Laurie calmly. "You can't back down now.The honor of the Turners is at stake! Come on up and I'll read thatrules book to you. Maybe some of it'll seep in!"
After a moment of indecision Ned arose and followed silently.