MEADOWCROFT was saying to himself that he wouldn’t have believed Rose
Harrow had it in her to do what she must have done, when Herbie came in
with lights and he forgot everything else as he stared at Tommy.
The lad’s hair, of various shades of brown blending into what is called
“sandy,” which usually hung in long, ragged, untidy but picturesque
locks about his eyes, had been burned off in front straight across his
brow, giving his head the appearance of that of a young calf. From the
proprietary reproach of his tone, Meadowcroft might have been the boy’s
father.
“Tommy Finnemore, what in the name of common sense have you done to
your hair?” he demanded. “And now, of all times, when you’re going into
a new school and ought to look your best.”
Tommy grinned. “I just bunted out a little fire,” he explained. “It was
only alcohol, though, nothing to speak of. You see I had my mother’s
piano cover with silk dadoes all round the edge. The trick called for
felt and I couldn’t find another bit though I hunted all through all
the drawers in the house. So mother being away for the afternoon, I
took that. I was awfully careful but the first I knew it was all blue
flame. Gee, but I was scared stiff, for dad would ’a given me the
very dickens if I’d burned a hole in that. You see I had asked to use
it before, and mother went right up in the air. I remembered about
smothering fires with rugs, but there wasn’t one round; and just then
my hair was hanging in my eyes like fringes and it seemed about like
a rug and handier. It did the business, but dad was almost as fierce
as if I had burned the piano cover, though not quite, or I wouldn’t be
here. And mother said ‘Thomas, I wish you would forbid that boy doing
any more magic for a year. The next thing you know he’ll be blind too.’”
Tommy sighed. “I don’t know why he didn’t, I’m sure. He said he’d a
good mind not to let me do any more till my hair grew out, which would
’a been the same thing. That made me feel queer and when he passed me
my plate I said I guessed I didn’t want any supper. I started to leave
the table and he says ‘Mind you, Tom, no magic for two weeks.’ And then
I shoved up my chair again and said I guessed if I ate slow I could eat
a little.”
Meadowcroft smiled. “Your parents have my sympathy, Tommy,” he
observed. “However, there’s a good piece of felt that was left over
when they re-covered the billiard tables on the top floor and an old
carriage rug that I’ll give you if you will solemnly promise never to
try to put out a fire in that manner again or in any way that might
cause personal injury to yourself.”
“Bargain,” said Tommy laconically.
“And do be more careful, pray. A magician should be skilful not clumsy
in the use of his materials, you know. You have long, supple fingers
that are capable of doing very delicate work if you train them.”
Tommy looked at his stained, spotted fingers curiously.
“Time for ’em to stiffen in two weeks,” he observed soberly.
“Your new school will occupy your mind meantime so it won’t seem so
long, Tommy,” Meadowcroft remarked encouragingly.
Tommy rose. “I hate to walk,” he said suddenly, à propos of nothing, so
far as one could judge.
He wandered restlessly about the room. “You see it ain’t as if I
shouldn’t have exercise. I shall play ball with the boys recesses and
at lunch time--we South Paulding people have to carry our luncheons and
stay all day. And when it’s rainy I can go up to the book-store and see
if they’ve got anything new in magic.”
“It will be first-rate to play ball, certainly,” Meadowcroft declared.
“You’re pale, and you don’t carry yourself well. You don’t make the
most of your inches.”
“I play a very decent game of ball,” Tommy remarked.
“I daresay.”
“Of course, it’s fine for Betty to walk. She’s crazy about it--partly
the novelty, you know,” he remarked sagely.
“It is an exercise one doesn’t readily tire of, I believe.”
“And Rose walking with her, there’s no need of anyone else,” Tommy
declared decidedly. “And there are houses all along the way and school
is out at half-past two, so they’ll be home at four dead easy.”
“Yes, indeed, it is perfectly safe,” Meadowcroft agreed.
Tommy walked over to the mantel and examined the clock.
“Of course, once in a while, after they get started. I might walk home
with ’em,” he announced as he turned. “But if I should start out doing
it the first day or even the first week, I should feel like thirty
cents, Betty being so much taller, you see. I could tell you right now
what the boys would call me if I did--I know a thing or two about boys.
They’d call me Baby Brother. Later on they’d know me better. They’d
learn that I can pitch a pretty decent ball and that I could lick any
one of ’em--I guess I could--and after that a fellow can do as he
likes.”
He drew a deep sigh and passed his hand over his ragged fringe of hair.
“I don’t know as there’s anything specially _queer_ in a fellow’s
riding in the train with the other high school scholars even if two
girls he knows are hoofing it--not even if one of them _is_ blind,” he
declared as indignantly as if someone had suggested the contrary.
“Rose can walk just as well for all that. However, Tommy, walking
wouldn’t be bad for you; and I should suppose the money you would
save might be used very conveniently for your experiments,” observed
Meadowcroft.
“O, wouldn’t it!” cried Tommy almost savagely. “But I wouldn’t have
that, anyway. I mentioned it to dad and he said if he had a son foolish
enough to walk five miles a day when he could just as well ride, why
he’d soothe his mortification so far as he could by saving money off
him. That’s the sort of chin a fellow has to stand from parents, you
know.”
Meadowcroft ignored the issue. Tommy slapped his knee with his cap.
“Hang it!” he cried. “The worst of it is, she has always stood by me,
Bet has. Before you came, nobody else ever took any interest in my
magic, and she’s the only one that has ever come to see me do tricks
more than once. Everybody else expects every single trick to come out
just so the very first time, and if they don’t, they haven’t any more
interest at all. And it would make it easier for her, too, because I
could walk with Rose part of the time and have her go free. O, and we
could each take hold one end of a stick--Rose and me--and sling all
three dinner pails on it, and----”
Meadowcroft was smiling slightly. Tommy sighed.
“I suppose I’ll come to it. I suppose I’ll have to,” he grumbled. “But
it won’t be until after about three weeks are gone by.”
“I am glad you feel that way. It will certainly be a civil thing to
do,” Meadowcroft said kindly.
The boy edged along, pausing at the threshold.
“I daresay you would begin the very first day?” he demanded rather
reproachfully.
“I should rather envy the fellow who did,” Meadowcroft replied quietly.
“O gee! I suppose in the end that is just what I shall have to do!”
exclaimed Tommy. “And I’ll be Baby Brother to the end of the chapter.
You wait and see. Well--so long!”