THE ONLY FRESHMEN AT THE SENIOR BALL
Side-stepping, the freshman put up one arm to ward off further
attack.
"Come, don't start a fight here, Fred," Dick cautioned the other,
in a low tone. "For one thing, you couldn't win anyway. Besides,
your father would hear the racket and come in."
"How do you know I put Tip up to that job?" demanded young Ripley,
his face as white as chalk. "Did Tip tell you all about it?"
"Not a word."
"Then you don't know," cried Fred, in sudden triumph.
"If I didn't," grinned Dick, "you've just confessed it."
"You tricked me---I mean it's a lie."
"No; it isn't, either," asserted Dick, coolly. "Though the second
chap, in that mix-up in Stetson's alley one night, got away before
I had time to recognize his face in the black darkness there,
yet as I fell and grabbed for the chap's ankle, I noticed his
trousers with the lavender stripe. I had seen those trousers
on you before, Fred, and you're wearing them again at this minute."
Fred glanced downward, starting.
"You see," insisted the freshman, "there's no sense in denying
that you put Tip up to the game that got him into the penitentiary."
"How many have you told this to?" demanded Fred, fright showing
in his face.
"My chums suspect," Dick answered, frankly. "I'm pretty sure
I haven't told anyone else."
"Good thing you haven't, then," retorted Fred, recovering some
of his usual impudence. "My father is a lawyer, and he'd know
how to make you smart if you started libelous yarns about me."
"Your father being a lawyer, I think he would also be likely to
show an investigating turn of mind. You can put it up to your
father if you want to, Fred."
Young Ripley winced. Prescott laughed lightly.
"Now, see here, Fred, I don't want to live on bad terms with anyone.
You've got good points, I'm sure you have."
"Oh, thank you," rejoined the sophomore, with exaggerated sarcasm.
"And I'll be glad to begin being on good terms with you at any
time, if you should ever really want such a thing," continued
the freshman. "If you were a thoroughly good fellow, wholly on
the level, like Badger, Thomp, Purcell, or any one of scores of
fellows that we know, then I'd hate to know that you didn't like
me. But, as to the kind of fellow you've sometimes shown yourself
to be, Fred, I've been really glad that I wasn't your sort and
didn't appeal to you."
At this style of talk the sophomore seemed all but crushed with
mortification.
"Come, Fred," pursued Dick, not waiting for the other to answer,
"be a different sort of chap. Make up your mind to go through
the High School, and through life afterwards, dealing with everybody
on the square. Be pleasant and honest---be a high-class
fellow---and everyone will like you and seek your friendship.
That's all I've got to say."
"It's quite enough to say," retorted Ripley, but he spoke in a
low voice that had in it no trace of combative energy.
"Well, boys, how are matters going?" asked Lawyer Ripley, reentering.
"Fred, have you remedied your boorishness by thanking Prescott?"
"Oh, yes, he has thanked me," Dick replied, cheerily. "And we've
been chatting about---some other matters. And now, Mr. Ripley,
if you will excuse me, I feel that I must run along."
I have other things that I really must attend to."
"Won't you be more sensible, and let me make you a duplicate to
the check you tore up?" asked the lawyer.
"Thank you, sir; but I don't want to; couldn't, in fact. My father
and mother would be ashamed of me if I took home a check for such
a service. Good afternoon, Mr. Ripley. So long, Fred."
Dick went out of the lawyer's offices almost breezily. Fred even
found the nerve to respond to Dick's parting salutation with something
very close to an air of cordiality.
The instant he reached the street Dick took in several deep breaths.
"Whew! It seems mighty good to be in the fresh air once more,
after being in the same room with Fred Ripley," muttered the freshman.
"Hello, Dickens, kid," called a voice from behind, and an
arm rested on his shoulder.
"Hello, Ben," replied Prescott, looking around.
"I just wanted to say that the senior ball comes off Saturday
night of this week. You're going to get one of the few freshman
tickets. The ticket allows you to invite one of the girls. Now,
remember, freshie, we depend upon you to be there."
Dick started to object. Well enough he knew that there would
be few freshmen at the senior dance, which was the most exclusive
affair in the High School year.
"You can't kick," rattled on Badger. "You'll get thrashed, if
you do. Didn't I tell you that there'll be very few freshman
tickets sent out? Only six, in fact. Dick & Co. are going to
hog all the freshman tickets. That's largely on account of what
you youngsters have done for football and athletics in general.
Lad, this is the last year that the seniors will have a chance
to see anything of Dick & Co. So you simply can't stay away from
the senior ball. Not a single member of Dick & Co. can be excused
from attending."
"We'll see about it," replied Dick.
"No, you won't! It has all been seen to. The six of you are
going to be on hand---with six stunning girls, too!"
"I thank you, anyway; I thank you all heartily for this very unusual
honor," Dick protested.
"That's all right, then; it's settled," proclaimed Ben Badger,
with an air of finality. "The dance begins at nine. It's all
stated on the ticket."
By the next day it _was_ settled that Dick & Co. were going to
attend. Besides the senior class, a good many of the juniors
were also invited. There was to be a fair sprinkling of sophomores,
but of the freshmen Dick & Co. were the only ones invited.
Up to the middle of the week Fred Ripley felt rather certain that
he was to be invited. Then, feeling less certain, he went to
Thomp and Badger.
"Say, fellows," began Fred, with a confident air, "I just want
to mention the fact that I haven't received a card to the senior
ball yet."
"Maybe you will, next year," suggested Thomp coolly.
Fred flushed, then went white.
"Oh, very well, if you mean than I'm to be left out," grunted
Ripley.
"I'm afraid, Fred," hinted Badger, "that you were overlooked until
the full number of soph tickets had been issued. It was an oversight,
of course, but I'm afraid it's too late to remedy it."
Fred Ripley went away, furious with anger, for he already knew,
as did everyone else in Gridley H.S., that Dick & Co. were to
be among the elect at the senior ball. And Fred had been so sure
of a card to the ball that he had gone to the length of inviting
Clara Deane to accompany him to the affair. That young lady had
most joyously accepted.
Now, as he walked home with Miss Clara this afternoon, Fred suddenly
broke out:
"I say, Clara, you don't very much mind if we don't go to the
senior ball, do you?"
"Yes," Miss Deane retorted. "Why, what's the matter, Fred. Didn't
you receive an invitation?"
"Of course, I could get an invite," lied young Ripley. "But the
plain truth is, I want to keep out of the affair."
"Why, what's the matter?" asked Clara, gazing at her escort in
astonishment.
"Haven't you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"That mucker crowd, who call themselves Dick &s Co., have been
invited."
"There's no harm in that, is there?" asked Clara Deane, quietly.
"Why, they're quite popular young fellows; certainly the best-liked
freshmen."
"Well, _I_ don't like them," retorted Fred, sullenly.
"And so, after inviting me to go to the ball with you, now you're
going to invite me to remain at home instead?"
"Oh, of course, if you really want to go, I'll see about it,"
muttered the sophomore.
But he didn't see about it, nor did Clara Deane again refer to
the matter. However, being an enterprising girl, Miss Deane was
not long in discovering that Fred was not going to the senior
affair for the very good reason that he _couldn't possibly_ get
himself written down on the invitation list.
Apart from the moral side of the question it is rarely worth
while to lie---to a girl, especially.