you want to know.”
The two boys jumped on him and wrestled him down. “C’mon!” Buzzy cried.
“Stop being an egghead! Tell us!”
Tommy freed himself and sat up. “Take it easy, you guys!”
“Talk, son,” Billy demanded, aiming at him with an imaginary gun.
“Okay. Okay,” Tommy said. “Jack’s coming home this morning. He’s all
through his exams. As far as they know, he’s okay.”
Billy and Buzzy both let out an Indian war whoop and threw themselves
down on the swing again.
“He’s not supposed to have a lot of excitement,” Tommy cried. “But
jeepers, I don’t know how he’s going to avoid it! The things that go on
round this house!” He took a big breath. “I guess you guys know both
Frank Howard and Ralph are supposed to come this week.”
“Aw, love!” Buzzy protested. “What’s so exciting about that?”
Tommy shrugged. “Search me,” he said. “But the way Kit ’n’ Jean act,
you’d think it was the most important thing ever.” He rolled his
eyes and added, “It gets pretty exciting when there’s going to be a
wedding, though.”
“Who’s gonna get married?” Billy asked. “Kit or Jean?”
Tommy made a face at him. “You dopey guy!” he cried. “Kit has a whole
college to go through! How could she get married?”
Buzzy shrugged. “I can’t figure out what women can do. Hey, Tommy, give
us the key to the gym locker, will you? We got a ball game, today.”
Tommy tossed him the key. “I’ll meet you guys out on the field,” he
said. “I want to wait for Jack.”
Billy and Buzzy vaulted the porch railing and raced down the driveway.
Tommy put his hands in his pockets and sat down on the swing. He
whistled as he swung himself back and forth.
Pretty soon the Craigs’ car turned in the drive, and Tommy jumped up.
Waving, he dashed down the steps and waited till Mrs. Craig had pulled
the car up in front of the house.
Jack opened the door and was about to jump out when Mrs. Craig
restrained him.
“Just a minute, Jack,” she said. “You mustn’t be so active!”
“Aw, Mom!” Jack protested, but he waited till she came around to help
him out. Tommy supported him on the other side.
“I’m well, Tommy!” he cried. “I can get up ’n’ _everything_!”
Mrs. Craig laughed. “Easy, son,” she advised. “Dr. Loring said you were
just to get up for a little while each day.”
Jack shrugged. “Aw, gee,” he complained. “Do I have to go back to bed
now?”
Mrs. Craig nodded. “I’m afraid so, Jack.”
Jack grimaced. “I’m sick of that old bed!”
After Jack had been settled in his room, Tommy and Mrs. Craig came
downstairs together. Tommy turned to his mother, puzzled.
“What’s with him?” he asked. “For months he lies there and doesn’t make
a peep. Now all of a sudden he gets dopey and cross.”
Mrs. Craig laughed. “And I don’t blame him. As long as he knew he was
sick, he just grinned and took it. Now he knows he’s well again and
he’s impatient to be up leading a normal life.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said thoughtfully. “Gee, I sure wish he could see the
game!”
Mrs. Craig patted her son’s head. “There will be lots of ballgames.”
She sighed heavily. “Aren’t you supposed to be practicing for the game?
I have a million things to do today, and I don’t want you underfoot.”
“You don’t practice for a ballgame the day you play it,” Tommy
explained. “You just warm up.”
His mother smiled. “Then run along and warm up. Scat!”
Tommy grinned and made a dash for the door. He turned and called,
“Keep your fingers crossed for us. Don’t forget!”
Mrs. Craig chuckled. “I will, dear.”
She went upstairs and stopped before Kit’s closed door. Inside she
could hear soft voices.
“Girls,” she called, knocking at the door. “Aren’t you ever coming down
for breakfast?”
“Come in, Mother,” Kit called back.
Kit and Doris were sitting on Kit’s unmade bed. They still wore their
pajamas, and their hair was still uncombed.
“For heaven’s sake!” Mrs. Craig said. “It’s after nine o’clock!
Goodness, you’d better hurry!”
Kit yawned and stretched. “It’s just lovely, being able to lounge
around like this. We’ve been awake for hours!”
Mrs. Craig sat down on the edge of the bed and hugged her daughters.
“You’re a couple of lazy ne’er-do-wells!” she said. “Now, up with you!”
Both girls jumped up and disappeared into the bathroom. Mrs. Craig
could hear the shower going full blast. She smiled and started to pick
up the bedroom.
Doris came out, fully clothed. “Oh, Mother, don’t,” she cried. “We’ll
straighten things!”
Mrs. Craig looked at her daughter and suppressed a laugh. Doris’s face
was a study in consternation.
“Ralph’s train comes in at three this afternoon,” Doris said finally.
“Yes, dear. I know,” Mrs. Craig replied.
Doris sat down and gazed out of the window. “This is awful to say
when he’s _practically_ my brother, but I sort of want to go to the
ballgame.”
Kit came in, rubbing her head with a towel. “Since when are you so
interested in baseball? I didn’t know you knew a ball from a bat!”
Doris blushed. “When a girl’s own brother has an important game, I
think she ought to see it!”
“Humph!” Kit said. “The girl’s own brother has had a whole series of
games this summer. I’ll bet you haven’t seen one yet!”
“That’s enough, Kit,” Mrs. Craig said severely.
Kit smiled. “I’m sorry, Doris,” she said, putting on a pair of blue
jeans. “Come on, let’s get some breakfast.”
Mrs. Craig put an arm around Doris’s shoulder. “Never mind about Ralph
coming, dear,” she said. “I’m sure both he and Jean will understand.”
Jean came in while Doris and Kit were eating breakfast. She poured
herself a cup of coffee and took a doughnut from the cookie jar.
“I had breakfast at the hospital,” she told her mother, “but I’ll eat a
little something just to be sociable.”
Mrs. Craig gazed fondly at her three daughters as they ate a leisurely
breakfast. Kit, in blue jeans and cotton plaid shirt, had her bare
feet wrapped around the rungs of her chair. Doris was pretty in a soft
cotton frock. She wore loafers and no socks, but her bare legs were
brown enough to give the illusion of stockings. Jean, on the other
hand, was crisp and white in her nurse’s uniform.
Jean set down her coffee cup. “Mother,” she said finally, “is it all
right if Ralph and I get married this fall?”
Doris and Kit looked at their sister.
“You sound as if you were planning a picnic,” Kit drawled.
“Well, for goodness sake,” Jean replied, “we’ve got to start planning
_sometime_.”
“Of course you do, dear,” Mrs. Craig said.
“We thought an October wedding would be nice,” Jean cried. “October is
my favorite month of the year.”
“Where do you want to be married? What church, I mean?” Mrs. Craig
asked.
Jean jumped up and hugged her mother. “Oh, Mother,” she cried, “can’t I
be married right here at home? I love this house so!”
Mrs. Craig beamed. “Of course, dear. We were hoping that’s what you
would want.”
“Me, too,” Kit cried. “I wouldn’t be married _anywhere_ else!”
Mrs. Craig stared at Kit. “Great heavens!” she cried. “You aren’t
planning a wedding, too!”
Kit laughed. “Of course not! Not for years and years. By the time I’m
ready to be married, I’ll be a plump little middle-aged woman, and
Frank will be in a wheel chair.”
Mrs. Craig and the other girls were quiet for a moment. Finally Mrs.
Craig said, “Then you’ve made a definite choice.”
Kit hesitated. “I ... I think so, Mother. I’m not sure.”
Doris stood up. “Come on, Jean,” she said. “I want to show you
something.”
Kit caught her arm. “No, wait, Doris. There’s no reason you can’t hear
this, too.” She studied her plate. “Frank and I talked a little bit
about it while I was in Washington. Of course I want to finish school.
But I ... I think I’m really in love with Frank Howard, Mother.”
Mrs. Craig sighed and folded her hands. “That’s the important thing,
Kit,” she said. “And your father and I think he is a very fine person.”
Doris and Jean squealed.
“That’s wonderful, Kit!” Jean cried.
“Oh, jeepers! It’s thrilling!” Doris echoed.
Kit grimaced. “I’m sorry. Let’s get back to the wedding. Let’s have
it in October with lots of bitter-sweet around and the bride and
bridesmaids in bright autumn colors....”
“Hey, whose wedding is this?” Jean cried.
Kit scowled at her playfully. “Oh, you’ll want the regular conventional
white and pastel wedding.”
“Well, what’s wrong with white and pastel?” Jean wanted to know.
Kit shrugged. “It’s your wedding,” she agreed. “Go ahead. Don’t be
imaginative. I don’t care.”
“Oh, Mother!” Jean cried.
Mrs. Craig laughed in exasperation. “You all sound as if you were
children again. My goodness, Kit, _whatever_ is wrong with you this
morning?”
Kit laughed. “Oh, nothing. I’m just jealous. Everyone’s going to have
her beau on hand but me.”
“And I don’t have any beau on hand or anywhere else,” Doris said,
tossing her head.
Kit looked at her. “Is that so?” she drawled.
Doris jumped up, her cheeks scarlet. “Mother!” she cried. “Make her
stop!”
Mrs. Craig sighed in exasperation. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t too
big for me to turn over my knee, Katherine Craig!” she said.
Kit jumped up and put her arm around Doris. “I’m sorry, Doris,” she
cried. “I was just teasing you.”
Jean was puzzled. “Whatever is this all about?” she asked. Kit started
to explain, but Mrs. Craig broke in firmly.
“Tommy brought a friend home to dinner the other night, Jean,” she
said. “A very nice boy from Mercyville. He won a scholarship to Timothy
College, too. And he seemed to be very fond of Doris. That’s all.”
Jean whistled. “A friend of Tommy’s? He must be a baby!”
Doris stamped her foot. “He’s almost as old as Kit!” she said. “I think
you’re both ... awful!” And she ran from the kitchen.
Mrs. Craig looked at her older daughters sternly. “Now really, girls,”
she said, “I’m ashamed of you both!”
Jean and Kit looked at each other, crestfallen.
“Oh, golly,” Jean said. “I keep forgetting Doris is growing up.”
Mrs. Craig looked at them severely. “It would help if you two could
remember how mixed up and difficult life seemed to be when you were her
age.”
Kit jumped up impulsively. “We’re both dreadful,” she admitted. “But
we’ll make it up to her. Why don’t we invite Bert to dinner? After the
game?”
“I think it’s up to Doris,” Mrs. Craig replied. “I’ll suggest it,
though,” she said, relenting a little.
Jean got up and went into the parlor. Doris was sitting on the piano
bench, her hands resting on the piano keys. Jean slipped her arm around
her sister’s shoulders.
“Your new friend sounds very nice, Doris,” she said shyly. “I hope I
can meet him soon.”
Doris grinned. “He’s really quite wonderful,” she admitted candidly.
“And he’s asked me out for our first date ... to a concert ... next
week!”
19. Elmhurst vs. Mercyville
The bleachers of the ballpark at Elmhurst High School were rapidly
filling. Down on the field, Tommy was throwing a ball to his warm-up
catcher, and Billy and Buzzy, together with the rest of the school
team, were running, catching balls that were batted out to them, and
playing catch.
The Mercyville team was on the other side of the field warming up.
Doris and Kit climbed into their bleacher seats just back of first base
and watched the practice eagerly.
“I don’t know so much about baseball,” Kit admitted. “We should have
brought someone along who knows the game.”
“Yes,” Doris agreed.
At three o’clock, the game started. Mercyville was at bat first, and
Kit felt her heart sink as Tommy, the pitcher, faced the first batter.
He looked very small and young as he took his windup.
Tommy retired the first two batters, but the third man to face him
singled to right field. Buzzy Hancock, who was playing right field,
caught the ball on the first bounce and hurled it to the second
baseman. The Mercyville runner, who had rounded first base, saw the
Elmhurst second baseman catch the ball, and he scooted back to first.
Tommy tugged the neck of his shirt and turned to pitch to the fourth
batter. He struck the boy out on four pitches.
Kit sighed with relief and settled back. Doris gnawed the end of her
finger.
“I wish I hadn’t come,” she confessed to Kit. “This is awful!”
Kit, realizing that Doris’s loyalties were divided, nodded
sympathetically.
They watched the game in silence for two innings. Mercyville finally
scored two runs, but Tommy was still pitching well.
Finally Kit and Doris heard Jean call to them from the back of the
bleachers.
“Hey, there!” she called. “Is there room for two more down there?”
“Oh, golly, there’s Jean with Ralph!” Kit cried. “Come on down!” she
called to them. “There’s lots of room.”
Jean and Ralph made their way through the crowd. Doris and Kit squeezed
over to make room for them. Ralph grabbed their hands in welcome as he
sat down.
“When Ralph heard there was a ballgame,” Jean explained, “he insisted
on coming. We haven’t even been home yet!”
“Mercyville is ahead by two runs,” Kit lamented.
“Yes, we heard,” Ralph said.
“I’m glad we have someone who knows the game with us, now,” Doris said.
“Kit and I can’t make head or tail out of what is going on.”
As the game progressed, Ralph gave the three girls a thorough lesson
in the game of baseball. Mercyville held their lead until the ninth
inning, when Elmhurst pushed a run across the plate.
Doris could see Bert Cramer wave to his field captain from the
bench. The boy ran over to Bert and held a hurried conference with
him. Elmhurst had runners on first and third base with one man out.
Mercyville was worried.
The Mercyville team captain, acting upon Bert’s instructions, called
for a new pitcher.
“That’s smart baseball,” Ralph said. “We have a right-handed batter
next, and so Mercyville is putting in a right-handed pitcher.”
“Whatever are you talking about?” Jean asked.
Ralph chuckled. “There is a theory that a right-handed batter has
trouble getting a hit off a right-handed pitcher.”
The new Mercyville pitcher struck the first batter out. A groan went up
from the bleachers. Most of the spectators were rooting for Elmhurst.
And the last batter of all hit an easy grounder to the second baseman.
The game was over, and Mercyville had beaten Elmhurst, two to one.
Ralph and the girls made their way down through the crowd to the field,
where Tommy was standing beating his hand into his mitt dejectedly.
“You pitched a _whale_ of a game, Tommy,” Ralph said, holding out his
hand. “There’s no reason to feel bad. Your whole team looked good.”
“Thanks,” Tommy said sadly. “Boy, I never thought we could hold them.
But when we came so close, it sort of hurt to lose.”
Ralph smiled. “I know, old man. Their generalship beat you. Their
players aren’t any better, but that boy who manages the team knows a
thing or two about the game.”
Tommy grinned wryly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “My pal!”
Bert Cramer trotted across the field. He held out his hand to Tommy.
“That was some game!” he cried. “You had us really worried.”
“You were swell today,” Tommy said heartily.
Bert turned around and saw Doris. “Gee, I didn’t know _you_ were here,”
he exclaimed.
“This is my sister, Jean, and her fiance, Ralph MacRae,” Doris said.
Bert shook hands with Ralph. “I’m glad to meet you,” he said.
“And Mother said you were to come to dinner,” Doris continued, coloring
slightly.
Bert smiled at Doris. “I’m glad your _mother_ wants me to come,” he
said softly.
Doris blushed fiery red. “We all want you to come,” she said.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Tommy cried.
“We’d better be getting home,” Jean said. “Ralph still has his bags
in the car.” She turned and smiled as Ralph took her arm. “Anyone who
wants to come with us, come along. There’s lots of room.”
“We have to clean up,” Tommy said. “Bert and I’ll come along later.”
As soon as they had showered and changed into fresh clothes, Tommy and
Bert headed for the Craig farmhouse in Bert’s second-hand Ford. They
rehashed the day’s game, play by play.
“Jeepers, I sure wish I had a car of my own!” Tommy sighed. “How did
you get yours?”
Bert shifted gears and guided the car towards the outskirts of town. “I
just saved up,” he explained. “You see, there are lots of jobs they pay
you for at Mercyville. The dirtier the job, the more money it pays. I
wanted my own car, so I took on a lot of hard jobs. It’s not so much of
a car, but it gets me there.”
“I guess it’s pretty neat in Mercyville,” Tommy said. “You guys always
seem to have a swell time.”
The older boy nodded. “It’s a wonderful place,” he agreed. “I get sort
of lonely, sometimes,” he added. “I guess it teaches you to get along
with people, though. Maybe when you don’t have anyone you can call your
very own, you realize how important people can be.”
Tommy nodded in silent agreement.
Bert hesitated. Then he said, “Tommy, you don’t ... mind about my
seeing Doris, do you?”
Tommy made a face. “Why in heck should _I_ mind? Except I kind of wish
you’d hang around with us guys for a while. Buzzy Hancock and Billy
Ellis and the whole gang are swell guys ... you’d like ’em, I know.”
Bert laughed. “I know I’ll like ’em, Tommy, if you say so. But Doris
is a swell girl. I like her a lot. And we’ll be going off to school
together, and I sort of want to get acquainted.”
Tommy shrugged. “Sisters can be a pain in the neck, sometimes,” he said.
“So can brothers,” Bert answered. “I know. I’ve got hundreds of ’em.”
Tommy laughed. “Doris is a good kid. I’m really glad you like her.
Maybe I was just scared you were going to be ... mushy, or something,
about her.”
Bert threw back his head and laughed heartily.
“All the time guys think they have to get sentimental about girls. Boy,
a fellow with three sisters knows better!” Tommy cried. “Catch _me_
ever getting moony about a girl!”
“Well, we’ll see,” Bert said. “In two or three years you may change
your mind.”
The family was out on the front porch when Tommy and Bert arrived. Mrs.
Craig had brought out a tray with lemonade and cookies, and everyone
was enjoying refreshments in the heat of the late summer afternoon.
“Enter the victor and the vanquished,” Mr. Craig said, as the two boys
came up on the porch. “I hear it was a good game.”
“One of the toughest we ever played, sir,” Bert said.
“Yeah, me too,” Tommy agreed. “Hey, look! Food!” He went over to the
tray and poured two glasses of lemonade. “Here you go, Bert.”
“Ralph has been explaining the game to us,” Doris said pertly. “Kit and
I didn’t exactly know what was going on till he and Jean got there.”
Tommy looked up in disgust. “You might have asked me! I’d have told you
anything you wanted to know.”
“Did you bring your violin, Bert?” Kit asked.
Bert smiled up at her. “Now, just by coincidence, I have it in the car.”
Mrs. Craig got up and picked up the tray. “My goodness, let the poor
boy rest! He’s been busy today.”
“After dinner, Kit,” Bert promised. “If Doris wants to play.”
Mr. Craig cleared his throat. “If you young people will scatter, I have
some things I want to talk over with Jean and Ralph. Seems there’s
going to be a wedding around here soon, and there are some details to
discuss.”
Tommy jumped up. “Come on, Bert. I want to take Jack down to the hen
house and show him my new improvements. You can have a look, too.”
Kit shook her head. “For heaven’s sake, Tommy. Bert is Doris’s guest
tonight!” She got up. “I’m going to write a letter. Holler when you
want me to help you with dinner, Mother.”
“Aw, jeepers!” Tommy cried. “Come on, Jack. Let’s go!” He dashed down
the steps, Jack in tow.
“Not so fast!” Mrs. Craig called. “Please be careful, Jack. Remember,
this is your first day up.”
“If you would like to walk down and see the river, it’s just a little
way,” Doris said to Bert.
He smiled and jumped up. “Let’s go,” he said.
They wandered down to the banks of the stream which was flowing with
midsummer laziness. “This is our scenic high spot,” Doris explained. “I
love it here. Whenever anything goes wrong or I feel out of sorts, I
come down here to think things out.”
Bert smiled slowly. “Yes, I can imagine,” he said. “It’s beautiful and
restful.”
“For instance, I figured out about trying for the scholarship down here
by the water. Somehow things seem clearer here.”
“What do you mean? Were you scared about trying out?” Bert asked.
Doris smiled shyly. “Well, not exactly about trying out. But I was
mixed up about whether or not I wanted to leave home, even. I don’t
seem to have the spunk that Jean and Kit have. They always go out
chasing things. I always kind of liked it at home.”
Bert was a born leader. It was hard for him to understand the fears and
doubts which plague the shy personality. But he had learned how real
these fears and doubts can be when he had worked with younger and shyer
boys at Mercyville.
“But you did decide to try out,” he said, underlining her small triumph
over her shyness.
She nodded slowly. “I wanted to go so badly,” she said softly.
“I’m glad you did,” Bert whispered. “I love it when you play. It’s like
heaven, somehow.” He blushed. “That’s a dopey way to say it, I guess,”
he added. “We’ll have a super time down there, I’ll bet.”
Hand in hand, they walked around the farm. Bert saw Tommy’s chicken
house and the berry patches and the small woods which stood near the
road. Finally, almost reluctantly, they turned towards the big house.
Dinner was almost ready when they returned. Bert stopped at the car
and took out his violin. “We can have a concert after dinner, if they
like,” he said.
Doris disappeared into the kitchen to help with the dinner, and Bert
took his violin into the parlor. As he laid it on the piano, Mr. Craig
came into the room.
“Well, hello there, Bert,” he said. “So we’re having a concert after
dinner.”
“If you like, sir,” Bert answered.
“Fine, fine,” Mr. Craig said, rubbing his hands.
“Mr. Craig, there is something I would like to tell you,” Bert said
hesitantly.
“Why, go right ahead,” Mr. Craig said.
Bert bent over the piano keys and touched a note lovingly. “I guess
you’ll think this is sort of funny to talk about. It’s about Doris.”
“What’s on your mind, son?” Mr. Craig said gently.
Bert reddened. “I think Doris is a wonderful girl,” he said in a low
voice. “We’re sort of pals, I mean. I like having her for a friend.”
Mr. Craig smiled. “Why, that’s fine, Bert. I’m glad you do. I’m rather
fond of her, myself.”
“But you don’t understand, sir,” Bert continued. “And I want to be sure
you _do_ understand how I feel. When I’m with her, I don’t exactly feel
like a friend, if you know what I mean.” He hit another key. “She makes
me feel as if I’d sort of ... like to take care of her and protect her
from things.”
Mr. Craig’s first impulse was to chuckle. But he stopped himself and
said seriously, “I’m quite glad that you’re so fond of Doris, son. You
see, she’s a great one for hiding her light under a barrel. Someone
near her own age can make her see how foolish some of her fears are
better than her parents can.”
Bert nodded solemnly.
“But as for you,” Mr. Craig said. “I would say that you have pretty
normal feelings for a boy your age. After all, a seventeen-year-old
boy is getting to be pretty grown up. Naturally he finds some girls
attractive.”
“I’m almost eighteen, Mr. Craig,” Bert said. “I just wanted to be sure
you didn’t mind. I mean, with my background, and everything.”
Mr. Craig frowned. “Certainly you’re not ashamed of your background!”
“Oh, no, sir! The only life I remember is life at Mercyville. I could
never be ashamed of living there!”
“Then I guess we don’t need to talk about it any more, son,” Mr. Craig
said.
“Thank you, Mr. Craig,” Bert said. “I’m glad what I said made you sort
of angry. A lot of people don’t ... don’t really understand.”
After dinner, Doris and Bert played together in the parlor. Mr. and
Mrs. Craig sat hand in hand on the porch swing listening to the strains
of a Haydn sonata.
“It seems to me that I’ve been giving advice to a lot of young
men today,” Mr. Craig commented dryly. “Ralph, about to step into
matrimony, and Bert, about to hurl himself into his first romance....”
“Then Bert is really interested in Doris?” Mrs. Craig asked.
Mr. Craig chuckled a little. “So he tells me.”
Mrs. Craig grinned. “He certainly is a forthright young man. I like
him.”
“Yes, so do I. Well, I hope our young friends will profit by what I had
to offer in the way of advice. I never felt less qualified in my life.”
Mrs. Craig squeezed his hand. “I think you’re the most qualified
husband in the world!”
20. Sweethearts’ Dance
The ballroom of the Elmhurst Inn was lit by Japanese lanterns which
threw soft colored lights down on the dancers, who were swaying
dreamily to the music of a local dance band.