cried; "I had him first."
"No, sir, take your hands off, I'm--" and he clutched Ben again,
determined to fight to the end for possession.
"That's right. Get out, Tim," a dozen voices took it up in a subdued
tone, it is true, but equally determined to see fair play.
And the tall, dark-haired boy, being shouldered off the steps, Ben soon
found himself sitting down in the midst of Jasper's school companions,
Grayson still hanging like a leech to him.
"You see we can't do anything but hang around here," one of the boys was
saying, "and when anybody comes out, why, we hear a bit how he is."
"And to think it needn't have happened only for Pip,--O dear!" said a
stout, chubby-cheeked boy, who didn't look as if he ever did anything
but laugh and eat.
"Pip! He wasn't worth saving, little rat," exploded Tim, who, being on
the outskirts of the crowd, had to vent his vexation over somebody.
"You'd better let King hear you say that," cried a boy, with a
belligerent glance over at Tim. Then, as he remembered how little
prospect there might be of Jasper's ever being troubled by the remark,
he ground his teeth together to keep from saying more before Ben.
"See here, fellows." Grayson, having made first capture, deemed it his
further duty to do the right thing by Ben. "We ought to tell him all
about it. And I'll begin," and without more ado, he started off.
Ben clasped his woollen gloves tightly together, and looked over the
heads of the boys up to the sky. Was it possible that the stars had ever
twinkled in friendly fashion at them, as Polly and the other children
had run out of the little brown house with him at such fortunate times
when their mother had let them sit up; and the moon had beamed down on
them too, so sociably that Polly made up little stories about their
shining light, so that they had all grown to love them very dearly. Now,
it seemed as if great tears were dropping out of the sky, and Ben
shivered and listened, and gripped his hands tighter together than ever.
"You see, it began--well, no one knows how it did begin," Grayson was
rushing on; "I think Beggins was drunk."
"What stuff!" ejaculated another boy, contemptuously. "Beggins never got
off the handle; the Doctor would have fired him long ago."
"There must always be a first time," said Grayson, nowise discomfited.
"Beggins is the night watchman," he explained to Ben. "Well,
anyway,--hush up, fellows,--the fire broke out, we don't any of us know
how. It doesn't signify. What we do know is that in about five minutes
from the first alarm it got too hot for us in there." He hopped to his
feet and pointed to the broken outline of a long building. Even in the
dim light, Ben, dropping his gaze from the sky, could see the ruined
chimney, the ragged side wall, and the blackened, crushed windows.
"And it was every one to save his skin. Great Scott! I'll never forget
that yell that Toddy sent up. He's the teacher on our hall, Todd is,"
Grayson explained again, as he dropped into his seat beside Ben.
"Nor the bell clanging," put in another boy; "Christopher Columbus, I
thought it was all day with us then!"
"And I couldn't find my clothes!"
"Well, 'twas no worse for you than for any of us," retorted the boy the
other side of Grayson. "There wasn't a rag for any of us to get into but
blankets, and sheets, and--"
"You see we were waked up out of a sound sleep; it was about three
o'clock this morning," Grayson took the words out of any mouth that
might be intending to explain, "so we just vamosed the ranch. I tell
you, there was some tall sprinting. And King was with us; I remember
seeing him. But he was last, and he looked back; then somebody sang out,
'Where's Pip?'"
"Pip?" Ben found his tongue, that had seemed to be glued to the roof of
his mouth, enough for that one syllable.
"Oh, it isn't his real name," said Grayson, in a hurry to explain again
before any one else could put in a word; "his own was so ridiculously
long,--Cornelius Leffingwell,--only think, for such a mite of a
chap,--so we had to call him Pip, you see. Well, somebody was fool
enough to scream out, 'Where's Pip?' and Jasper turned back."
Ben clenched both hands tightly together in a grip that would have hurt
but for the woollen gloves.
"And I roared out, 'Come along, King--'"
"And so did I."
"And I." The voices took it up, one after another.
"For it wasn't the time to look out for any skin but your own; it was as
much as your life was worth to turn back," cried Grayson, bearing down
on the other voices.
"Boys!" The big door back of them burst open suddenly, and a teacher's
head appeared, making them all jump as if shot. "Go right away from
these steps!"
"How is he?" Nothing seemed to dash Grayson, and he took time to ask
this quite comfortably, still holding to Ben, while the other boys moved
off the steps and around the corner of the master's house.
"Somewhat better. Be off with you!" The teacher waved his hand, and
closed the door.
"That old Sterrett,--well, he's a dragon," declared Grayson, between his
teeth, and, dragging Ben to a convenient angle, where the other boys
soon gathered, the narrative was taken up where it had been dropped.
"I grabbed King, but you might as soon try to hold an eel. He _would_
go."
Ben groaned, and this time so heavily that Grayson pulled himself up
short. "See here, I won't tell any more; you're going to keel over."
For answer he was in an instant whirled completely around on his two
feet, and instead of his having any sort of a grasp on Ben, it was the
visitor who held his coat collar in a woollen-gloved hand in such a way
that it didn't seem as if Grayson were ever to be free again.
"Now tell everything you know! I can't wait! Be quick about it!"
It was the same face he had shown to Jane, and, just as she had done,
Grayson made all possible haste to answer, "Oh, I will, I will!" the
other boys in their astonishment staring silently at the two.
"Pip couldn't be found. He slept in the north wing, but he'd run into
another boy's room, so King lost time, and if he hadn't screeched,--Pip,
I mean,--why, he never would have got out. And there King--oh, well, he
crawled under the bed,--Pip, I mean, nasty little beggar,--and there
King found him, and dragged him out. He told us all about it,--Pip, I
mean,--and King slung him on his back, and by that time it was no use to
try for the stairs; the flames were roaring up like mad, so King tried
for the roof of the 'Lab.' Had to go through Toddy's room, and jumped
out of one of the windows. And he made it.--Oh, don't hang on to a
fellow so!--And there we saw him, and the firemen got a ladder up, and,
oh--" Here Grayson gave out and actually blubbered.
Ben looked around for some one to take up the tale. And the tall,
dark-haired boy they had called "Tim," now seeing his opportunity,
pushed up.
"It's better you should have the whole," he said; "without a bit of
warning we saw the roof overhanging the 'Lab'--laboratory, of course, I
mean--waver, and then fall, and we screamed to King to look out; it
wouldn't have done any good if he had heard, for the chimney toppled,
and some bricks knocked him over, and then he saw it coming and kept Pip
underneath."
Ben's hand had fallen from the jacket collar to his side, and he didn't
seem to breathe.
"You are to come. Mr. King wants you." Somebody reached through the
crowd of boys, and drew him off and away.
VIII
"ANY ONE WHO WANTS TO PLEASE JASPER," SAID BEN, "HAD BETTER TAKE UP THIS
CHAP"
And the first thing Ben knew, he was being hurried over the stairs and
into Master Presbrey's big library. There stood Grandpapa, and, wonder
of wonders, with a smile on his face!
"You are to see Jasper," said the old gentleman, briefly.
Ben staggered back, it was all so sudden, and stared up at the one the
boys had called "Dr. Smith" standing near.
"Yes," said the gentleman, "he has asked for you." And without further
ado Ben was piloted into the back room, and there, looking eagerly
toward the door, was Jasper in the big bed and propped up with pillows.
"Halloo!" It was all either of them said at first; then Ben, with a lump
in his throat, leaned over and grasped the fingers on the coverlet.
"You see I'm all right," said Jasper, his eyes roving affectionately all
over Ben's square figure.
"Yes," nodded Ben.
"But it was good, though, to see Father and you." And Jasper's dark eyes
beamed; then a wave of pain swept its trail over his face. And the
doctor, seeing that, unceremoniously bundled Ben out of the room, and
back to old Mr. King again.
But the next day, oh, that was joy! for Ben was not only let in again,
but allowed to stay a good half-hour. And this time he found his tongue,
for Dr. Smith said a little cheery talking was just the thing. So the
budget of home news was undone, and Ben regaled Jasper, who hungrily
took in every word.
"It's a shame I spoiled all the Christmas," murmured Jasper, his face in
the pillow, his thoughts flying back to Polly and the others, busy with
the preparations for that gay festival.
"Oh, that's no matter," said Ben, cheerily, "and perhaps you'll be able
to come home soon, and we'll have it then."
"But it won't be Christmas," said Jasper, dejectedly.
"Well, but we can call it Christmas," said Ben, "so that'll be just as
good." Then, for want of something else to say, he began on Mrs. Van
Ruypen buying all sorts of things for poor people, of course with never
a word of himself mixed up in it.
"Now isn't that fine?" cried Jasper, taken for the moment off from the
loss of Christmas to the family, and bringing his face into view again.
"Yes," said Ben, "it is," and he went on so fast that Polly herself
couldn't have told it better, Dr. Smith smiling to himself in
satisfaction at the experiment of letting Ben in.
"Well, now, boys," he said at last, coming up to the bed, "time is up.
But you can come in, maybe, this afternoon," to Ben.
"Oh, let him stay now!" begged Jasper.
"Can't," said the doctor, laconically. And off Ben went again. And this
time he, too, smiled. And the first person he ran up against was a small
boy, his hands full of little wads of paper bundles, crammed tightly
together in his nervous fists.
[Illustration: AND THE FIRST PERSON HE RAN UP AGAINST WAS A SMALL BOY,
HIS HANDS FULL OF LITTLE WADS OF PAPER BUNDLES.]
"They're for him," said the small boy, emptying the fistful into Ben's
hands, who involuntarily thrust his out, as it seemed to be expected of
him.
"For whom?" asked Ben, in astonishment.
"Why, for him," said the boy, pointing with a set of sticky fingers he
first put into his mouth, off toward Jasper's room. "Of course; hurry
and give 'em to him before the doctor sees. It's candy." He couldn't
repress his longing as his eyes now fell on the wads in Ben's hands. "I
got 'em down town. Hurry up!" and his little face, pasty-colored and
sharp, scowled at the delay.
"If you mean I'm to give these to Jasper," said Ben, holding the little
packets toward the small figure, "I can't do any such thing; the doctor
wouldn't like it."
"You are a 'fraid cat," said the boy, contemptuously; "but he won't hurt
you, 'cause you're a stranger, so hurry up!" and he laid his sticky
fingers on Ben's arm.
"But don't you understand that these things will hurt Jasper?" said Ben,
kindly, into the scowling little face.
"Hoh! I guess not," said the boy, with another longing look at the
little packets; "they'll make him well, do take 'em to him. O dear!" and
his thin lips trembled, his sticky little fingers flew up to his eyes,
and he turned his face to the wall.
"Now, I guess you're Pip," said Ben, hustling the little wads all into
one hand, and putting the other on the small shoulder.
"Yes, I am," snivelled Pip, flattening his face against the wall, "and
all the boys hate me, and say I've killed King, and--O dear!" he whined.
"Well, now, you just see here," Ben turned the little figure swiftly
around; "no more of that."
It was so sudden that Pip released one pale eye from his sticky fingers
to peer up at the big boy, and he stopped snivelling in amazement.
"The worst thing you can do for Jasper King is to carry on like this,"
said Ben, firmly. "Come, now, wipe your eyes," which Pip at once
proceeded to do on his jacket sleeve, "and take your candy," and Ben
dropped the little packets of sweets back into their owner's hands.
"I'll tell Jasper all you wanted to do for him; it was nice of you." Ben
was astounded to find how fast he was getting on in conversation. Really
he hadn't supposed he could talk so much till he got this Pip on his
hands. Meantime, his grasp still on the small shoulder, he was marching
him off, and downstairs, and across the school yard, not exactly knowing
what in the world to do with him after all.
"Great Scott! If that Pepper boy hasn't got Pip!" A dozen heads, their
owners just released from recitation, were thrust up to the windows of a
class room. Meantime Pip, in the familiar borders of the school yard,
and remembering everything again with a rush, began to snivel once more,
so that Ben was at his wits' end, and seeing a boy a good deal bigger
than his companion coming down the long path, he hailed him
unceremoniously.
"See here, can't you do something for him?" Ben bobbed his head down at
the cowering shoulders. "Can't you play ball with him?" He said the
first thing that came into his head.
"You must excuse me," said the boy, with an aristocratic air, and, not
knowing Ben in the least, he looked him all over contemptuously. "King
was my great friend. I don't know this little cad at all, nor you
either," and he walked on.
Pip's head slunk down deeper yet between his shoulders at that, and he
snivelled worse than ever.
"Come along, I'll play with you myself," said Ben. "Got a ball, Pip?"
"Ye-es," said Pip, between a snivel and a gasp, "but the fellows wo-on't
let you play with me. O dear, boo-hoo-hoo!"
"Oh, yes, they will," said Ben. "Come, let's get your ball. Where's your
room?"
So Pip, seeing that he was to have company all the way, led off somehow
to his room, and the little wads of candy were placed in the bureau
drawer. Once the ball was in Ben's hands he managed to follow him to a
corner of the playground where, without any more words, Ben soon had him
throwing and catching in such a rapid fashion there was no time for
tears or anything else but the business in hand.
Meantime the boy they had met on the long path had marched off, very
angry at having been spoken to by such a common-looking person in
company with Pip, whom nobody had liked from the first, certainly not
after the injury to their favorite, King. And nursing his wrath he
projected himself into the class room where the heads of the boys were
still at the windows.
"Something must be done with that Pip!" he fumed, throwing down his book
on the first desk.
"What's the poor chap done now?" cried Tim, turning off from his window
quite readily, as there was nothing more to be seen. "Can't you let up
on him, Bony?"
"No," said Bony, called short for Bonaparte, much to his distress, for
the great air which he assumed he fondly hoped was to bring him
distinction, "and none of us ought to."
"It wasn't the poor little beggar's fault that King got hurt," said Tim,
thrusting his hands in his pockets and lounging over toward Bony, "and
we ought to remember that."
"Don't preach," cried Bony, derisively. "Well, he is such an
insufferable little cad!" he brought up in disgust. "And that country
lout--Great guns! how did that fellow dare to address me?" With that he
began to fume up and down the room, puffing out his chest at every step.
"Has any one dared to speak to our Bony?" cried Tim, throwing his head
back and blowing out his cheeks, in step and manner imitating as much as
his long figure could, as he followed the other one down between the
rows of desks.
"See here, now, Tim," Bony turned suddenly amid the roars of the
delighted boys, "you quit that now," and he doubled up his fists in a
rage.
"Excuse me, your high mightiness, if I object to being crushed," said
Tim, coolly, and folding his fists, which were long and muscular like
the rest of his body. "Now, then, Bony, if you like."
But Bony didn't like, taking refuge in, "You're no gentleman," and
turning his back.
"I suppose not," said Tim, coolly, and regarding his fists
affectionately, "but I don't see why these wouldn't do. I really can't
see, Bony, why you object to them; they're a good pair."
"What's the row, anyway?" The boys, not to be balked out of all the fun,
seeing that Bony would not fight, crowded around him. "What's upset you,
Bony?"
"Enough to disturb any one," he cried, glad to vent injured feelings on
something. "A common country fellow just now spoke to me on the long
path; fancy that, will you? I never saw him in my life, and he took it
upon himself to give me advice about Pip."
"What?" cried ever so many of the boys.
"Yes, just fancy. And there I had just come from seeing Mr. King," here
Bony threw out his chest again and looked big. "I'd had a long talk with
him; his father knew my father very well, _very_ well indeed, and he
wants me to meet Ben Pepper that he brought here yesterday," and Bony
paused to see the effect on his auditors.
"Well, you've met him," said one boy. Some of the others gave a long
whistle.
"No such thing," retorted Bony. "I wasn't with your crowd when he got
here last night," he added superciliously. "This is quite
different,--quite in the social way,--and his grandfather is going to
introduce us."
"You won't need any introduction," said Tim, with a chuckle. "Hush up,
boys," for the room was in an uproar of cat-calls and peals of laughter.
"Yes, I will, too," said Bony, in a superior way, "for I never speak
unless properly introduced. My set never does."
"Well, you've broken your rule for once then," said Tim, in a hush now,
every boy holding himself in check to lose no word, "for that country
lout with Pip was Ben Pepper."
Bony sat down on the nearest desk, his chest sank in, and he groped
feebly with his hands, mumbling something--what, the boys couldn't have
told, even if the babel that now set up around him had been less. And
Mr. Sterrett coming in, and the other boys rushing out, he was presently
asked if he were ill.
"No, sir," said Bony, getting up from the desk; "oh, no, sir, I--I only
sat down a minute," and he slipped out, leaving his Bonaparte air behind
him.
But if the boys didn't have any more fun with Bony, they did with the
ball game going on between the two over in the playground corner, which
they soon spied, and off they rushed there.
"Let us in, Pepper, will you?" cried Tim, his long legs getting there
first.
"Sure," said Ben, his round cheeks all aglow with the exercise. "Now
then, Pip, wait a bit," the ball just then getting ready to fly from the
thin little hand.
Pip paused, his small pasty-colored face, that without having gained any
color had quieted down from its nervousness, now took on a fresh alarm,
and he looked ready to run.
"They're all going to play with us," said Ben, looking around brightly
on the group as the other boys rushed up. "Now, then, Pip, we'll have a
splendid game!"
"Yes, we'll play," cried the boys, in different keys. And before long
the whole playground resounded with shouts of enjoyment. Ben couldn't
play the most scientific game according to their rules, but he was a
capital pitcher, and he took all errors in a sturdy good humor that kept
things jolly. Altogether, by the time the game was over, everybody in it
had voted that Pepper was worthy to be King's friend.
"You'll have that little chap at your heels every minute, after this,"
Tim nodded over toward Pip, who was running after, having lingered
behind a bit to get his ball, as Ben struck off on the path leading to
Master Presbrey's house.
"All right, let him come," said Ben.
"He'll be an awful nuisance," said Tim; "take my advice, Pepper, and
drop him now."
"Can't," said Ben, "can't oblige," and his fingers closed on the thin
little ones crowding into them, as Pip ran up to his other side.
"And I think any one who wants to please Jasper," said Ben,--he hated to
preach, but it must be done,--"had better take up this chap."
Tim coughed and stuck his hands deeply in his pockets.
"I'm going down this way," said Ben, striking off on a side path, and he
marched off with pip.
"I never knew such a chap," Tim waited for a crowd of the boys who had
joined in the game to come up; "he's been here a little more than one
day, and he leads us all by the nose. Boys, we've just got to take up
that Pip, and we might as well do it handsomely as not."
IX
WHAT A HOME-COMING
Van sprang off the car steps and rushed up tumultuously to Polly in the
midst of the group come down to the railroad station to meet the boys.
"O dear," he grumbled in a loud voice, "now we can't have any Christmas
at all."
"Hulloa, Van--Hulloa, Percy." Pickering Dodge tried his best to cover
this remark by an extra amount of hilarity, as he clapped each of the
boys smartly on the back. "Well, you're an awful long time in getting
here--I should say half an hour late."
"For shame, Van!" cried Percy at his heels, and edging off toward Polly.
"For shame?" repeated Van, hotly; "well, that's no more than you've been
saying on the train,--'we can't have any Christmas,'--and you know it,
Percy Whitney."
"Stop that, you little beggar." Pickering's long arm got possession of
Van, who, instead of occupying the vantage-ground of first arrival, had
now the vexation of seeing Percy in that coveted position.
"Why did you pull me back?" he cried in a small fury at hearing the
bustle and excitement of the group he had just left so summarily.
"Because you were making yourself a nuisance. Fancy such a way to come
home for the holidays, Van."
"There aren't to be any holidays," howled Van, his face very red. "Let
me go, Pick," struggling violently to free himself from Pickering's long
fingers.
"No, indeed." Pickering wound his fingers into a still tighter hold.
"Not much, sir, until you stop those whines. How you can go on so, I
don't see!"
By this time, Pickering, over his shoulder, had the ill luck to see
Clare take the first place in marshalling off the party, a position he
had fully expected to occupy himself whenever Jasper and Ben were away.
All this didn't in the least add to his satisfaction. "Well, I wish
you'd stayed back in your school," he declared in extreme irritation.
And Alexia, running up, only made matters worse by crying out: "Come on,
Van, I'm sure it's bad enough to bear all these dreadful things without
coming clear down here for a boy like you. Do come on, we're all waiting
for you." So it was a very gloomy party that finally became settled in
the two carriages.
"I'm not going to sit with him," declared Van, having freed himself from
Pickering, and bolting for the second carriage.
"No, you're coming with me," said Alexia, hurrying after him. "Come,
Polly, here's a seat. Here," and she waved frantically.
But Polly was already in the other carriage. And seeing this, Alexia was
about to desert her charge, when Thomas, on the box of the forward
conveyance, whipped up and off it went.
"O dear me!" cried Alexia; "somebody stop it. Why, Polly Pepper was
going with me," and she was just about to jump out.
"No use, Alexia," said Pickering, who at the last moment had found
himself crowded out of carriage number one, and putting her to one side
as he helped Cathie in, and then David, at last he got in himself.
"Don't you see they're a good bit on the way home already?"
"Yes, and here I am shut up in here with all of you, whom I don't want
in the least to go with," cried Alexia, in the greatest dismay, sitting
down in her corner too suddenly for comfort, as the horses started up,
and waving her hands frantically.
"Thank you," said Pickering, with a low bow, "I'm sure we all feel much
obliged to you."
"Well, I don't," said Cathie, in a dudgeon, "feel obliged a single bit,
and I'm sure I didn't want to come with you, Alexia, only there wasn't
room in the other carriage, so I had to."
"And I thought Polly Pepper was surely coming in this carriage," ran on
Alexia, too vexed to stop herself, and turning anything but a sweet
countenance upon the rest of the carriage-load. "She started for it."
"Don't look so at me, Alexia," said Pickering. "I'm not to blame; Clare
took her off."
"It's just like Clare--always meddling," said Alexia, thoroughly out of
temper. "Van Whitney, you're sitting all over my coat, and it's my best
one, too," and she turned and twitched it away with an angry hand.