BRONSON'S CREDENTIALS
To Fred the lifting of the ban against his defending his father's name
seemed the solution of all his troubles. In his joy he forgot to thank
Mr. Vining, and when his remissness occurred to him he saw the form of
the headmaster just entering his office.
"That sure was white of him," the boy muttered to himself. "I don't
believe he realized what his threat of suspension meant to me."
Several of the boys had noticed Mr. Vining speaking to Fred, and as
soon as the former had passed them, turned back, eager to learn what he
had said.
Fred, however, was not disposed to gratify their curiosity, and
vouchsafed them only a smile, tantalizing in its mystery.
"It must be good news," asserted Buttons, when his most diplomatic
attempts to obtain the desired information had failed. "A few minutes
ago your face was as long as a yardstick, and now you're grinning like
a cat full of chicken."
"It is good news," laughed Fred, and then the sight of the boy for whom
he had sacrificed his desk suggesting an avenue of escape from his too
solicitous friends, he called: "Oh, you Bronson. Come and I'll show
you where you will sit. Sandow Hill had seventeen last year, so you'll
probably have a lot of cleaning out to do."
"It's lucky for you, Cotton-Top, that Sandow didn't hear you say that,"
came from a First Former. "But I shall tell him, and he'll attend to
you, never fear. I don't know what Baxter is coming to when Second
Formers can criticize their betters."
The austerity of the First Form student frightened Bronson.
"Do you suppose Mr. Hill will be angry at what you said?" he asked in a
whisper.
"He may pretend to be," returned Fred, "but he won't be, really. The
Firsts always put on a lot of airs. If you let them, they'll make your
life miserable. Just don't take what they say seriously. But there's
one thing you must remember--don't talk back to them. It's one of
Baxter's unwritten laws that Lower Formers must not talk back to the
Firsts."
"Are there many of these unwritten laws?" asked Bronson, alarmed at
this constant outcropping of Baxter traditions. He was anxious not
to violate any of them, and his own reception had been such as to
convince him that unless he soon learned them, he would be in constant
hot water.
"No-o, not so very many."
"Are they very hard to learn?"
"Oh, you'll catch on to them soon. Just keep your eyes open and you'll
learn them. There's another, though, you should know, or you'll have
to stand treat to the whole First Form. When the Firsts are going to
classes or coming out, you must never walk in front of them. They have
the right of way, just as we Seconds do over the other forms."
"Thank you, I'll remember."
"You'd better. Being new, some candy-loving girl will try to get you in
front of her."
"But how can I help it?"
"Just step to one side, and say, 'After you, my dear First Former.' It
makes 'em ripping mad."
Room No. 1, being located at the rear of the school building, had a
separate entrance, and in reaching it, the boys were obliged to cross
one end of the campus. As Fred and Bronson made their way to it, they
saw several of the students kicking footballs.
"Are you on the team?" asked the newcomer.
"No, only Firsts make the School team. But I hope to make my Form
team."
"Then how is it Montgomery could make the ball team and win the Landon
game?"
"Because it's different with baseball. Any one can try for that. The
Head says it isn't so dangerous."
By this time the two had reached No. 1, which was already swarming with
students busily moving their belongings from their old desks to the
ones they had just drawn.
"This will be a good chance for you to meet the Form," said Fred. And
he introduced Bronson to Margie Newcomb, Grace Darling, Taffy Brown,
Soda Billings, Shorty Simms and Ned Tompkins.
"You mustn't take what we do too seriously, Mr. Bronson," said Margie,
as she cordially shook the newcomer's hand. "You will soon get
accustomed to us. Oh, Alice," she cried, as the girl who had first
espied Bronson when he mounted the steps entered the room, "Come here a
minute."
But the girl, noting the presence of the new student, turned on her
heel and went out.
At this snub, Margie bit her lip.
"Alice is miffed because Fred has more manners than her brute of a
brother," explained Grace. "You'd better leave her and Mary alone,
Marg."
"So she's Mr. Montgomery's sister?" asked Bronson, an amused light
shining in his eyes. "They do seem alike."
"Oh, don't mind her. That's just the Montgomery way," interposed Fred.
"She's really a mighty nice girl--when you know her. Come on, and I'll
show you through the building."
After inspecting all the recitation rooms, the laboratory, and the
gymnasium in the basement, the boys returned to No. 1.
As Fred and Bronson reached a spot whence they could see the latter's
desk, both were surprised to behold an envelope attached thereto by a
clothespin.
"Wonder what that is?" exclaimed Fred. Seizing the envelope, he glanced
at the address, then handed it to his companion.
"A letter for me?" murmured the newcomer, in surprise. "Whom do you
suppose it's from?"
"Why not open it and find out?" suggested Fred, striving to restrain a
smile, for he had recognized the round, flourishing writing of Soda.
Quickly Bronson did this, his face assuming a look of perplexity as he
scanned the contents. Twice he read the note, then asked:
"Who are the 'Big Six,' and where is 'The Witches' Pool'?"
Recognizing a plot of his chums to have fun with the newcomer, Fred
said, ignoring the questions:
"Let me see the note."
But Bronson refused to give it to him.
"How can I tell who sent it, if I can't see the handwriting?" demanded
Fred, surprised at such action.
"But I can't show it to you."
"Why?"
"The note says I mustn't."
"Look here, Bronson, you mustn't take things so seriously. This note is
just to scare you. It doesn't mean anything. If you don't let me see
it, we can't get back at the boys who sent it."
A moment more Bronson hesitated, then reluctantly handed it to Fred.
The note ran as follows:
"Clothespin, bring your credentials to the Witches' Pool by eight
o'clock to-night. By order of the Big Six. Show this to Cotton-Top
at your peril."
"That's some of Soda's doings," said Fred. "I'm not surprised he didn't
want you to let me know about it. But I wonder what he means by your
credentials?"
"Why, the papers I must get to show I am a member of the Second Form, I
suppose."
"What papers? Who's been telling you such stuff?"
"Soda." And briefly Bronson related to his new friend the incidents of
his reception when he introduced himself.
So absorbed had both boys been in the note that not until the creaking
of a door, cautiously opened, reached his ears did Fred realize the
conspirators were on the lookout to see when the note was discovered.
But at the tell-tale sound, he grabbed Bronson by the arm, and with a
whispered "Come with me," led him rapidly out the side door and round
to the back of the building.
"Where are you going?" eagerly inquired his companion, as Fred
slackened his pace.
"To get even with Soda, of course."
"But he hasn't done anything to you."
"Oh, yes, he has. He knows I am showing you around, so anything he does
to you is the same as though he did it to me; see?"
"Yes, I see," returned Bronson slowly, adding quickly, "I wonder if the
other boys would have been so decent to me, if you hadn't taken me in
tow?"
"Of course they would."
But Bronson held a different opinion, though he did not say so, and
all the way to the village store, whither Fred led him, he thanked
his lucky stars that the fair-haired boy had taken him under his
protection.
Arrived at the store, Fred walked to the back part and asked of the
clerk:
"Got any very smelly limburger cheese?"
"Sure."
"How much is it?"
"Fifty cents a pound."
"Then give me half a pound of the very smelliest."
"I'll pay for it," said Bronson, as the package was delivered to them,
adding, in fear that Fred might think his offer reflected on his
position, "it's only fair, you know, because you are helping me out of
a hole."
"All right. Now, we'll get a box, and you write on a card, 'My
Credentials--Clothespin,' then we'll have it wrapped up."
When this had been done, Fred persuaded the clerk to address the
package to "The Big Six, Care of Mr. Soda Billings, Baxter High School."
"I wish we could be there when they open it," exclaimed Bronson, as
they returned to the school building.
"We'll be in on the fun, don't worry. Just stay outside, here, and I
will deliver your credentials."
Cautiously Fred entered No. 1, laid the box on Soda's desk, and bolted
out of the door.