THE BROTHER
OF A HERO
By Ralph Henry Barbour
The Brother of a Hero
Benton’s Venture
Around the End
The Junior Trophy
Change Signals!
Finkler’s Field
For Yardley
The New Boy at Hilltop
Winning His “Y”
Double Play
Forward Pass!
The Spirit of the School
Four Afloat
Weatherby’s Inning
The Half-Back
On Your Mark
Four in Camp
Four Afoot
For the Honor of the School
Captain of the Crew
Behind the Line
The Arrival of Jimpson
D. APPLETON & COMPANY, NEW YORK
[Illustration: “Rodney, startled, whisked around”]
THE BROTHER
OF A HERO
BY
RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
AUTHOR OF “BENTON’S VENTURE,”
“AROUND THE END,” ETC.
[Illustration]
ILLUSTRATED BY
CHARLES M. RELYEA
NEW YORK AND LONDON
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1914
Copyright, 1914, by
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Printed in the United States of America
To
ELIZABETH BRADLEE FORREST
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I.――Rodney Climbs a Hill 1
II.――Rodney Meets the Twins 14
III.――“Westcott’s” 31
IV.――Phineas Kittson 40
V.――Rodney Encounters Watson 48
VI.――Rodney is Discovered 62
VII.――Coach Cotting Exacts a Promise 79
VIII.――Croquet and Confessions 91
IX.――Reflected Glory 103
X.――Rodney Joins the Squad 115
XI.――Kitty Supplies a Sensation 125
XII.――Cotting is Puzzled 136
XIII.――The Final Cut 148
XIV.――The Twins are Bored 164
XV.――Finger Rock 182
XVI.――Tad in Danger 199
XVII.――Kitty Climbs to the Rescue 211
XVIII.――Ludlow Scores a Safety 222
XIX.――Nearing the Goal 233
XX.――Rodney Hesitates 242
XXI.――Cotting Tells a Story 253
XXII.――The Eve of the Battle 263
XXIII.――Bursley Arrives 271
XXIV.――The Battle is On 285
XXV.――Rodney Finds Himself 294
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
“Rodney, startled, whisked around” _Frontispiece_
FACING
PAGE
“Finally Jack sent a swift ball across the court” 186
“Very slowly Tad turned his face over his shoulder” 212
“Hands seized him and arms lifted him aloft” 300
THE BROTHER OF A HERO
CHAPTER I
RODNEY CLIMBS A HILL
“Greenridge! Greenridge! Have your tickets ready, please!”
There was a hoarse blast from the whistle and the steamer sidled in
toward the wharf. Rodney Merrill, his brand new suitcase tightly
clutched in his left hand and his ticket firmly held in his right,
followed the dozen or so passengers who were crowding toward where
three deck hands waited to push over the gangplank. As the _Henry
Hudson_ edged up to the landing the main street of the little town came
suddenly into view, leading straight up the hill at a discouraging
angle until lost to sight behind the overhanging branches of great
trees. Rodney thought he had never seen so many trees before. They were
everywhere――elms, maples, beeches and oaks――hiding the houses spread up
the side of the ridge so that only here and there was visible a gray
roof or a white wall or a red chimney top. Even here by the river edge
the trees seemed to be trying to dispute the margin with the wharves
and buildings. Where Rodney had come from folks first built houses and
then planted trees, afterwards tending them as carefully as though they
were rare flowers. Here, it seemed, folks had tucked their houses away
in a veritable forest. He mentally compared the leaf-roofed street
before him with Capitol Avenue, back in Orleans, Nebraska. Capitol
Avenue was lined with trees, too, but the trees were as yet barely
twelve feet high and cast about as much shade as would a lady’s parasol.
At the left of the wharf was a ferry slip, with a little brown shed
beside it bearing the legend, GREENRIDGE AND MILON FERRY COMPANY.
A handful of people waited there under the shelter and watched the
arrival of the river steamer. The paddles thrashed, the steamer
shivered and bumped, the gangplank thudded to the wharf, and the
disembarking passengers moved forward. Rodney followed, gave up his
ticket, and found himself on land. He yielded his bag and trunk check
to a hackman, asked directions, and with a farewell glance at the
_Henry Hudson_ gained the shadiest side of the ascending street.
It was still only a little after two o’clock and he had all the
afternoon before him. Somewhere at the top of the hill was Maple Hill
Academy, for which he was bound. But, as he would undoubtedly see quite
enough of that institution during the next nine months, he was in no
hurry to reach it. Rodney’s father had accompanied the boy to New York
and had fully intended coming to Greenridge-on-Hudson with him, but,
just as they had sat down to dinner in the hotel the evening before,
an imperative telegram had reached him, and this morning Rodney had
boarded a Hudson River steamboat and Mr. Merrill a Chicago train.
Naturally Rodney had been disappointed, but he was quite used to his
father’s erratic flights from home――it was the penalty of having
a father who was an important factor in a big railway system――and
he had made the best of it. There had been so much to see from the
moment the steamer had left its dock in the North River until it had
bumped against the big piles at Greenridge that Rodney had forgotten
to be lonesome. Besides, to a boy of fifteen, even though he has been
brought up to be self-reliant and is fairly accustomed to looking out
for himself, there is something inspiriting in journeying alone, in
being thrown on his own resources. He experienced a fine feeling of
independence as he loitered up the street, and perhaps was guilty of a
suggestion of swagger, for which I think he may be excused.
The street――River Street was the name of it, as he soon discovered――was
lined with funny, half-asleep little shops. There was nothing smart
about them. Their windows looked as though they were seldom washed
and the goods displayed therein were often dusty and fly-specked. And
then the names over the doors amused him; as “Liverwell and Nagg, Fine
Groceries and Provisions,” “Huckens and Soper, Hardware,” “Jernigen’s
Pharmacy, New York Prices,” “Sauerwien’s Home Bakery” and “Fogg and
Frost, Stationery, Books, Periodicals, Post Cards, Lending Library and
Candy.” Hands in pockets, he looked in the windows, peered up shady
side streets at the half-hidden doorways and porches of comfortable,
old-fashioned houses and, in short, loafed enjoyably, finding all sorts
of things to interest him in this queer, hundred-year-old-town.
Presently, when he had progressed three or four blocks up the hill, he
came to an uncovered bridge spanning the railroad. Below on one side,
reached by a flight of steps, was a small station. He paused there
above long enough to determine in which direction New York City lay,
and then, as no trains came along to offer entertainment, he went on
again, up and up under the wide trees. It was rather hard climbing and
the day was none too cool now that he had left the river behind. And
so at the next corner he entered a drug store and sank onto a stool in
front of the soda fountain. While he waited for someone to appear from
the dim mysteries behind the partition at the back, he amused himself
by deciphering the sign on the window. YCAMRAHP S’ELTTILOOD was about
the way it appeared from inside. When he had puzzled it out he glanced
around the empty store and chuckled. It was, he thought, well named.
“Chocolate ice-cream soda, please,” he requested presently, when a
youth with sandy hair strolled into sight wiping his hands on a soiled
white apron. “Lots of chocolate, please,” he added.
The clerk glanced doubtfully at the faucet inscribed “Choc.,” tried
it and shook his head. “All out of chocolate just now,” he announced,
looking dreamily across the street. “I’m going to make some more this
afternoon. Something else do?”
“Strawberry,” said Rodney.
This time the clerk had better luck. While Rodney consumed the
concoction, the clerk leaned wearily against the fountain and watched
the street. At last, “School?” he asked.
“What?”
“You an Academy boy?”
“Not yet.” Rodney glanced at the round faced clock in the center of the
partition. “Not till five o’clock probably.”
“Just come, eh?” continued the clerk with a slight show of interest.
“Well, it’s a pretty good school, I guess. ’Bout as good as any in New
York State, they say.”
“Is it?” Rodney didn’t seem much impressed. “If I’d had my way I’d have
gone to a military academy back in Michigan. But my brother used to go
here and he made dad send me, too. I suppose it will do.”
“Where’d you come from?” asked the other.
“Orleans, Nebraska. Ever been out there?”
“N-no. Nebraska’s quite a ways, ain’t it? Out――out near Illinois, ain’t
it? Or Texas?”
“Out that way,” replied Rodney dryly. “Sort of between those places and
Oregon. It’s the finest state in the Union.”
“That so?” The drug clerk grinned. “Guess you ain’t lived in the east
much, have you?”
“No, not lived, but I’ve been in about every state except Maine and
Vermont and West Virginia. And Nebraska’s got them all thrown and
hog-tied.”
“You must have travelled some! Ever been in Utah?”
“Several times,” answered Rodney, scraping the last particle of ice
cream from his glass with a sigh of regret.
“Is that so? I don’t suppose you ever ran across a fellow named
Stenstream out there, did you?”
“I don’t think so. What town is he in?”
“Town? I don’t know. One of those Mormon towns, I think. He’s a sort of
cousin of mine, Pringle is.”
“Did he come from here?” asked Rodney as he drained the last drop in
his glass.
“Yes, he used to work for Huckins, down the street. Always was a sort
of adventurous chap, though. Nobody wasn’t surprised much when he up
and lit out for Utah.”
“Utah ought to be a fine place for a fellow with a name like that,”
said Rodney gravely. “What did you say it was?”
“His name? Pringle Stenstream.”
“My, this is sure one fine place for names, isn’t it?” laughed the boy.
The clerk blinked as he washed the glass. “Names? How do you mean?
What’s the matter with the names?”
“Oh, they’re all right, but sort of――of unusual.”
“Stenstream ain’t unusual around here,” responded the clerk a trifle
resentfully. “There’s stacks of ’em in New York State. It’s as common
as――as my own name.”
“What’s that?” asked Rodney.
“Doolittle,” was the calm reply.
“Oh, is this your store?”
“Nope, it’s my uncle’s. I work for him. Gosh!”
“What’s the matter?” asked Rodney, following the clerk’s gaze through
the window.
“There’s that Watson feller coming, and he always wants chocolate and I
haven’t got any.”
“Give him strawberry,” suggested Rodney, amused by the clerk’s
expression of alarm. “Are those Maple Hill fellows?”
The clerk nodded gloomily. “Yes, and that Watson feller’s the worst of
the lot. The rest of ’em ain’t so bad.”
“Cheer up,” said Rodney. “Maybe they won’t come in.”
They did, though. There were four of them, their ages ranging
apparently from fourteen to seventeen. They came in laughing and made
directly for the soda fountain. As there were but three stools, Rodney
got up and moved to the corner of the confectionery case, curious to
see what manner of boys these Maple Hill students might be. It wasn’t
difficult to determine which was Watson. He was the biggest of the
four, good-looking in a heavy way, and evidently the leader of the
present expedition. It was Watson who sang out a greeting from the
doorway.
“Hello, Doolie, Old Top! Poisoned anyone to-day?”
Young Mr. Doolittle smiled uneasily. “You almost lost me my job that
time, Watson,” he said sadly. “That wasn’t a joke, that wasn’t!”
“Wasn’t it?” laughed Watson. “It was a peach of a joke!” He had caught
sight of Rodney on entering, and now he inquired confidentially but
quite audibly, “Who’s your dressy friend, Doolie?”
The clerk replied in low tones, leaning across the counter. Watson
grinned.
“What ho, fellows! Luck’s with us! Here’s a new one!” He regarded
Rodney jovially. “Doolie says you’re a Maple Hiller.”
“Yes,” replied Rodney pleasantly.
“Fine! Welcome to our school!”
“Thank you,” returned Rodney politely.
“Well, fellows, what’ll you have to-day?” asked the clerk.
“Hold your horses, Doolie. You see,” Watson went on, turning to the
newcomer again, “it’s a long-established custom here that new boys have
to stand treat. You’re lucky there aren’t any more of us, isn’t he,
Tommy?”
“Rather!” agreed a light-haired, freckle-faced boy of about Rodney’s
age. “If he doesn’t hurry up there may be.”
“You mean,” inquired Rodney interestedly, “that I’m supposed to buy
sodas for you chaps?”
“Spoken like a gentleman! Right you are, Old Top! Line up, fellows. Ice
creams all around, Doolie.”
The clerk looked hesitantly at Rodney. The latter smiled but shook his
head. “Suppose I haven’t enough coin, fellows?” he inquired.
“That’s all right, Doolie will chalk it up, won’t you, Doolie? Doolie’s
a nice, obliging little poisoner.”
“Very glad to charge ’em,” said the clerk. “What flavors?”
“Hold on,” protested Rodney. “I’m not one of you fellows yet. I won’t
be until I reach school. I guess that lets me out. Still, I don’t want
to seem stingy, so I’ll tell you what I’ll do.”
“What?” asked Watson, frowning darkly.
“I’ll buy ice-cream sodas for the crowd if you’ll all take the same
flavor. You――” nodding at Watson――“choose it. You’ve only got one
guess, though.”
“How do you mean, one guess?”
“Why, if you call for a flavor he hasn’t got, you lose. That lets me
out. Savvy?”
“Oh, that’s it? Don’t you worry, cutie. We know what we want, don’t we,
fellows?”
“I want――” began a younger boy.
“Cut it! You get what I order. Didn’t you hear him say so? Doolie, you
may prepare four of your finest chocolate ice-cream sodas.”
Had Watson observed the clerk’s expression during the arrangement of
terms he might have hesitated about agreeing to them, but he had not.
It was only when young Mr. Doolittle began to stammer vaguely that
Watson scented trouble.
“What’s the matter, Doolie?” he demanded peevishly. “Four chocolates.
Didn’t you hear the dressy party agree to pay for them?”
“I――the fact is, Watson――the――the chocolate is――is――――”
“The chocolate is what?” asked Watson, suspiciously calm.
“Out!”
“Out! Oh, run away and play, Doolie! Quit your joking! Of course you’ve
got chocolate! If you haven’t you’d better dig some up mighty quick,
Old Top! Get a move on now! Ginger up, Doolie, ginger up!”
“I’m awfully sorry, Watson, but there ain’t any. You see, I was just
going to make some when that fellow came in and――――”
“Asked for it, I’ll bet a doughnut!” exclaimed Watson. “Say, you, Mr.
Smart Aleck”――Watson’s jaw dropped. “Where is he?” he demanded.
“The new fellow?” replied one of the younger boys. “Oh, he just went
out!”