JERRY SPENDS SOME MONEY
Some one, not Jerry, told of the hazing episode, for not later than
the following afternoon the story was all over school and fellows
were laughing uproariously. A story always gains from retelling, and
this one was no exception, and those who had taken part in the event
at the stable came in for a lot of ragging. Most of them accepted it
with good grace, but Jordan proved extremely touchy and more than once
lost his temper completely. Jerry Benson became an object of even
greater interest than before, but now it was not his strange attire
or uncouth appearance that focused the limelight of publicity on him,
but a suddenly won reputation for nerve and resourcefulness. The
third class hailed him as a hero, for had he not, alone and unarmed,
defeated the machinations of a dozen second class oppressors? The
consensus of school opinion was to the effect that the handful of
hazers deserved the ridicule that, for a time at least, would pursue
them. After all, hazing was not only discountenanced by the faculty but
by the student body itself, and those who attempted it――especially if
unsuccessfully――could count on little sympathy. The fact that a far
more cordial feeling existed toward him on his return from Baltimore
that Saturday afternoon was unnoted by Jerry, but Tom felt the
difference and surmised the reason for it and was glad.
That Baltimore trip had resulted in the acquisition by Jerry of a new
outfit from head to toes; hat, collars, ties, shirts, a neat dark brown
suit, socks and shoes. The sum total of his expenditures was $50.30.
This included his car fares but not the forty-four cents that went for
chocolate nut sundæs. The sundæs were Tom’s contribution to the day’s
program. Needless to say, Jerry’s fifty dollars was exhausted, and the
thirty cents that went with it came from a small store of coins left
from his travel money. But, after the first few minutes, Jerry had
proved a good spender, even a reckless one. More than once Tom had had
to restrain his enthusiasm for brightly-hued socks or rainbow cravats,
and there had been five long minutes during which the fate of hat and
shoes had hung in the balance while Jerry had hovered in fascination
about a gorgeous bath robe that looked for all the world like the state
costume of an Apache chief. Once embarked on a career of spending,
Jerry cast discretion to the winds, and only the fact that his entire
cash resources were represented by the figures $52.27 saved him from
the bath robe, a raincoat, a crimson silk muffler, a blue-and-yellow
sweater and a pair of white buckskin shoes labeled “For the Southern
Traveler.” The boys returned by the four o’clock “Limited” entirely
surrounded by packages.
On the way from station to school, the burdens equally divided between
them, Jerry observed with deep satisfaction: “Well, I reckon I won’t
have to buy nary other thing for a right smart spell,” and looked to
Tom for confirmation. Tom’s silence at last impressed him as ominous
and he asked anxiously: “Ain’t that so, Tom?”
The other pursed his lips and did his best to break the news gently.
“Well, you’re pretty well fixed, Jerry,” he answered kindly, “but, of
course, there may be a few little things later.”
“Same as which?” asked Jerry perturbedly.
“Well, you ought to have a cap, for one thing. That Fedora is all right
for Sunday and dress up, but the fellows generally wear caps around
school.”
“You didn’t say anything about any cap,” challenged Jerry.
“They don’t have them in Baltimore. You get them in Annapolis. There’s
a store over there has them made for the school.”
“How much do they cost?”
“A dollar seventy-five.”
Jerry breathed relief. “Reckon I can stand that, if there ain’t any
hurry about it. I’ll have to draw some money out of the bank at home
first, though. Anything else, Tom?”
“N-no, not right now. When warm weather comes you’ll need a straw and,
maybe, a couple of pairs of white flannel trousers and a bathing suit
and――――”
“Reckon you’d better quit right there,” interrupted Jerry. “I’m feelin’
plumb bankrupt just listenin’ to you! What for those flannel pants,
Tom?”
“Oh, everything: tennis, if you play it, and――――”
“I don’t play tennis, leastways I never did. I don’t play anything
except, maybe, baseball a little.”
“Baseball!” Tom became instantly interested. “How much baseball have
you played?” he demanded.
“I’ve played right smart of baseball. I reckon us fellers don’t play it
like you-all, but we have pretty good fun.”
“Where did you play? I mean, what position?”
“Me? Oh, I play ’most anywhere. I ain’t carin’.”
“Just like that, eh?” laughed Tom. “Well, then, what position do you
play best? What do you like to do most?”
“Bat,” replied Jerry promptly. “I was a right smart batter.”
“Well, that sounds promising,” answered Tom amusedly. “We need a few
right smart batters here, Jerry. Guess you’d better report for practice
next month.”
“Reckon I’d have any show? Reckon they’d let me play with ’em?”
“They will if you can hit the ball, Jerry. Tell you what, we’ll get a
bat and a ball some day and have a tryout. Want to?”
“Yes, but I got to tell you I ain’t much good on curves, Tom. You pitch
me a straight ball and I’ll whang it, but those curves has me fooled.”
“All right,” Tom laughed, “I’ll feed you straight ones, at first
anyway. If you can hit a straight ball now, Jerry, you’ll be able to
hit curves later. How’s your throwing arm?”
“Mean can I throw a ball? Pretty good, I reckon. I got to tell you
fair, Tom, I ain’t a professional.”
“If you were you couldn’t play here,” said Tom. “If you’re willing to
learn, Jerry, and try your level best, why, I wouldn’t be surprised if
you got on one of the teams. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Sure would! Reckon I’d try all right, Tom. And”――he stopped and viewed
his companion anxiously over the bundle that was balanced under his
chin――“say, would I have to buy me a baseball outfit if I played?”
“I’m afraid you would, Jerry!”
Jerry’s face fell. “Golly, it costs a heap to get educated, don’t it?”
he murmured.
“Twelve dollars will buy everything you’ll have to have,” said Tom,
soothingly. “Anyway, we’ll have a tryout soon and see what happens.
Maybe we――you’d decide to put off trying for the team until next year.”
But the tryout didn’t materialize for more than a fortnight and so
Jerry’s baseball ability remained a mystery. The following Monday the
mid-year examinations commenced and Tom was much too busy――and, if
truth were told, anxious――to recall his promise. Fortunately for Jerry,
he was exempt, for he was having quite all he could do to maintain his
class standing. He toiled like a Trojan, however, a fact recognized
by the instructors and placed to his credit against a debit of many
failures. But he made progress, even if it was so slow at first as to
be scarcely visible. After the first week or so his companions stopped
laughing at his mistakes in class, partly, perhaps, because they were
fewer and less amusing. That fortnight and more of examination periods
helped him vastly, for it gave him the opportunity to study without
the continual interruptions of recitations. By the first of February,
by which time mid-years were over and done with, Jerry was, so to
speak, firmly established on his feet. Latin was still a bugaboo and
algebra seriously interfered with the growth of his hair, but in the
other third class courses he was holding his own quite worthily, to the
satisfaction of his instructors and Mr. Ledyard, the latter watching
the lad’s progress with a sympathetic interest unsuspected by any save
Tom.
Tom had not forgotten the school secretary’s invitation to consult him
on matters pertaining to Jerry’s welfare and progress, but so far no
problem important enough to require advice had presented itself, and
only once had Tom and Mr. Ledyard discussed Jerry, the occasion being
a chance encounter on the campus. Mr. Ledyard had referred smilingly
to the hazing episode, carefully avoiding the appearance of having
official cognizance of it, and had dryly remarked that he thought any
one picking Benson for an easy mark would find they had a Tartar.
“Those eyes of his, Hartley, tell a lot more than his words do,” he
said. “What does he do for amusement? Do sports appeal to him?”
“So far his chief amusement seems to be studying,” answered Tom. “He’s
having a pretty stiff time of it, I guess. I suppose he doesn’t know
how to study yet. There is a good deal in knowing how, don’t you think,
sir?”
“I certainly do. You can use a lot of waste effort in studying, just
as you can in doing anything else. That will come to him, though.
Meanwhile he appears to be keeping his end up remarkably well for a boy
who has never had real teaching before. I was looking at his reports
this morning and I was really surprised. But he ought to have something
outside of his studies to interest him, Hartley, something to take his
mind off them, in fact. How about basketball?”
“I don’t think so, sir. He wouldn’t make good there. He’s pretty
awkward yet, and awfully muscle-bound. I guess his gym work will take
that out of him, though. He told me once that he liked baseball and had
played it some. I’m going to try to get him started in that as soon as
we get going again.”
“Fine idea! I wouldn’t wonder if he proved rather good at it, Hartley.
Ever notice how many really good players are country boys? The genuine
raw-boned, fall-over-their-own-feet kind, I mean.”
Tom laughed. “I haven’t noticed it, sir, but maybe you’re right.”
“Well,” Mr. Ledyard smiled, “you’re not a case in point, and that’s a
fact. You’re one of our best, Hartley, and you’re a city boy, I reckon.”
“Sort of a small city boy, sir, so I don’t prove the argument or
disprove it. But I’d like mighty well to see Jerry make good at
baseball, and I’m going to help him all I can. He’s an awfully decent,
straight chap, Mr. Ledyard, and as clean as a whistle. And the way he
picks up things is a marvel.”
“What sort of things do you refer to?”
“Well, all sorts, sir. Take his way of talking. Of course, I liked it.
I thought it was sort of――of amusing. But it was pretty ungrammatical,
and lots of the fellows made fun of him and called him ‘Tarheel’ and
all sorts of names. Well, he’s improved about a hundred per cent
already in his talk; talks like any of the other Southern chaps now,
I guess. And then there are lots of other things, like not using a
toothpick and――and using a handkerchief――――”
“You mean that when he came he didn’t――er――――”
“Not at first.” Tom smiled deprecatingly. “He didn’t know any better, I
guess. But he catches on mighty quick, sir.”
“Yes, I thought he was that sort. Well, I’m very glad he’s shaping up
so well, Hartley. And I reckon you’re to thank for a great deal of it.
I wouldn’t be one bit surprised if you and I and the school――and maybe
his country, too――were right proud of him some day. You see, I think
there’s a lot in that boy!”
“So do I, sir,” agreed Tom earnestly. “And I believe he does, too; and
that’s even more important, I guess!”