MRS. MARKHAM'S RUSE
As Fred uttered the manly words, his mother raised her tear-stained
face, the light of hope shining in her eyes, threw her arms about him
and, her head resting on his shoulder, murmured, between her sobs:
"Oh, if you only could, my boy!"
"I will find the proof, if there is any," asserted Fred confidently,
"so cheer up, Momsy."
This sharing of his parents' burden seemed to Fred to draw him nearer
to them, and in this closer understanding he and his mother talked
matters over, during the course of which the clash with Bart, the
drawing of the desks and the joke with the cheese were related.
At the recounting of Bart's rudeness in refusing to occupy the desk he
had drawn, Mrs. Markham exclaimed:
"There is no saying so true, my son, as that gentleness is bred in the
bone. Gentle birth is a thing no money can buy. So long as it was a
Montgomery who was so insolent, I am glad that it was a Markham who
made amends. You must bring Bronson to the house."
Further confidences between mother and son were prevented, however,
by a loud rap on the side door--which opened into the dining
room--followed immediately by the entrance of a tall figure.
"How do you do, Mrs. Markham? Ready, Fred?" came from the newcomer.
"Sandow Hill, you'll scare the life out of me some day, coming in
so suddenly," cried Mrs. Markham, as she recognized the boy who had
entered so unceremoniously.
"I hope not, but I am so in the habit of running in here I almost
forgot to knock. You should give me credit for that, at least."
"Oh, you mustn't think I meant what I said seriously, Sandow, but now
that Mr. Markham has gone away, I am a bit nervous."
The leader of the First Form was about to comment upon this
announcement, when a significant glance from Fred warned him not to,
and instead he said:
"Ready for school, Cotton-Top? I thought I'd call and walk along with
you. I want to talk about organizing the Second Form football team."
"Yes, I'm ready," Fred replied, accepting the remark at its face value,
although he was well aware it was about his affair with Bart that
Sandow meant. "Wait until I get my cap." And going into the hall, he
quickly returned, his face aglow with pleasure, in his hand a dark blue
cap with the letters "S. F." worked in gold braid on the front.
"Thank you, Momsy," he cried, putting his arm around her waist and
kissing her affectionately. "It's a beauty. I was going to ask you to
make one and here you've given it to me as a surprise. Isn't it swell,
Sandow?"
"It sure is," asserted the leader of the Firsts, thus appealed to. "I
wish you'd make me one, Mrs. Markham, with the First's colors, crimson
with white initials."
"I shall be pleased to, Sandow. I believe I have some cloth of the
exact shade, so I can do it this very afternoon."
"That will be fine, Mrs. Markham, and it will help me out of a bad
hole. Several of the girls have offered to make my cap and I don't want
to decide between them. But I'd be delighted to wear one you made."
Smiling at the boy's ingenuous frankness, Mrs. Markham renewed her
promise to make his Form cap, adding:
"Sandow, won't you come to supper to-night? And Fred, you may bring
your new Form mate. I'll ask Sallie Ayres, Margie Newcomb and Dorothy
Manning."
At any other time, the boys would have hailed with delight the
prospect of an evening with the girls, for Sandow was very fond of
Sallie Ayres and Dorothy Manning, while Fred thought there was no one
quite so attractive as Margie Newcomb. But under the circumstances,
the suggestion filled them with consternation and they looked at one
another in blank dismay, which was no whit allayed by Mrs. Markham's
saying:
"So you're planning some mischief for to-night, are you? I thought
there was something in the wind when you called for Fred, Sandow. Of
course, if you prefer your pranks, why I will tell the girls not to
come."
"Then you've asked them?" blurted Sandow.
"Yes, this morning."
"But how did you happen to ask three?" inquired Fred, suspecting that
his mother, who looked upon the opening day of school with dread
because of the hazing that was usually indulged in, had proposed the
supper party in the hope that she could keep him at home. "You didn't
know about Bronson."
"Oh, yes, I did," returned Mrs. Markham, with a smile, "and I've
already invited him."
"When did you meet him?"
"I haven't met him, yet. I saw Mrs. Vining this morning on the street,
and she told me about his boarding with her and said she hoped you and
he would be friends. Just then the girls came along and I thought it
would be pleasant for Mr. Bronson if he could meet them. So I asked
them and sent him an invitation."
"Momsy, you're a fox! You mean you thought you could keep Sandow and me
at home where you could watch us," laughed Fred.
"Well, shall I tell the girls you prefer your skylarking to their
society?" inquired Mrs. Markham.
"If she does, your goose will be cooked with Margie," blurted Sandow,
and then, as he realized how disrespectful the voicing of his thoughts
sounded, he added, blushing:
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Markham. I spoke without thinking."
"Never mind, Sandow," laughed Fred's mother. "But I agree with you that
Margie will resent such action on Fred's part."
Confronted by such an embarrassing situation, the boy who was to meet
Bart in defense of his father's honor, was doing some rapid thinking.
"We'll have the party, Momsy," he replied. "Only please have supper at
seven instead of six." And without giving his parent the opportunity to
ask the reason for the late hour, Fred kissed her and dashed out the
door, followed by his schoolmate.
"Jiminy crickets! but this is a pretty mess!" lamented Sandow, as he
and Fred settled into a rapid walk. "How do you intend to get around
Bart? Put it off until to-morrow?"
"Not much! I'll meet him at five instead of seven."
"He won't agree, if he thinks it will be an accommodation to you."
"Oh, won't he?" returned Fred, smiling in a superior manner. "You just
wait and see. He'll jump at the chance!"
"Go ahead and tell me; I'm not good at puzzles."
"There's no mystery. I'll simply tell him that I'm going to a party and
want to get through with him first. He'll think he can give me a couple
of black eyes and shame me before the girls."
"Great head, Cotton-Top!--provided he doesn't close your peepers.
Bart's some scrapper. He told Hal he'd been taking boxing lessons
during the summer. It's because I wanted to give you a few points I
dropped in for you. Have you any idea how you are going at him?"
"Sure. The way Phil Thomas got him in our Form game with Landon last
year."
While the leader of the Firsts realized that Fred was strong and
agile, he had no idea the boy had already mapped out his plan of
campaign, and he asked in surprise:
"How do you mean?"
"Why, make his nose bleed. After Thomas hit Bart on the nose, he lost
his nerve."
Though the plan appealed to the First, he did not wish to say so, lest
Fred become overconfident, and he replied:
"But it's getting in the good blow that will be the difficulty."
"That's the truth," asserted a third voice. And turning, Fred and
Sandow were surprised to see Buttons close beside them.
"It's lucky it was you!" declared the First. "Guess we'd better change
the subject. I didn't realize we were so near the school. You two run
along and I'll arrange with Hal."
"Thought everything was fixed," remarked Buttons, as Sandow left them.
"Going to change the hour, that's all." And Fred told his chum about
the party, adding: "Can't you get Grace Darling and come over in the
evening?"
"Guess so. I promised to let her know how things came out."
"But she'll tell Marg."
"What of it."
"Marg'll tell Momsy and she'll worry her head off."
"Well, there's no use crying over what can't be helped. There's Bart
now. Will you ask him to change the time or shall I arrange with Taffy?"
"I will."