NAT ENTERS THE LIST
The days passed, and November was half gone.
Two more meetings had been held in the big room of the Y. M. C. A.
building, and fully thirty boys’ names were on the roll of the new
Junior Department. Some of these fellows belonged to poor families,
but they were just the ones Mr. Holwell had most in mind when he
first conceived the clever idea of starting a Boys’ League inside the
association.
He had found numerous ways in which to help those whose folks could not
really afford to let their boys join. Three fellows were given jobs
in connection with the care of the building, for it happened that the
association did not have a regular janitor to look after the furnace,
and sweep out, as well as keep the windows clean.
Temporary positions were found for two more in the restaurant next
door, and it seemed as if Mr. Holwell might prove himself equal to
every emergency that could arise, for he never allowed anything to
daunt him.
From the beginning the new movement appeared to meet with success. It
was quite noticeable how few boys were to be seen loitering on the
streets since the Junior Department had come into existence. The Chief
of Police admitted that complaints of practical pranks being played
upon citizens of the town, or farmers living nearby, were getting to be
a rare occurrence.
Of course, Mr. Holwell was greatly pleased with the measure of success
that seemed to have already followed his attempt to better conditions
in Cliffwood. He knew, however, that there must be no slackening of the
good work, or things would begin to go down hill again; for there was
an invisible pulling against the new order of things, which might come
from the lower elements of the town.
Every night as many as a score of boys could be seen either reading
books or the latest magazines or engaged in playing dominoes, checkers
or chess in the comfortable rooms of the Y. M. C. A. building.
Then there was a weekly lecture to which they were usually invited, if
the subject happened to be of a nature suitable to their years. The
swimming pool had also been completed, and the younger members of the
association had the privilege of using this on certain afternoons when
one of the older boys could be on hand to keep order. He had also to
see that no fellow took any chances of catching cold, to avoid which
the shower was always required after coming out of the warmer water.
Down in the gymnasium they had splendid times when allowed to enjoy
themselves, and many a boy began to show cheeks of a ruddier hue on
account of the work done there under the eye of a competent instructor.
Not only this, but several boys who had until then rejected the
friendly advances of Mr. Holwell were influenced to enter their names
on the roll, when they learned what glorious times those who already
belonged were having. This was just what the big-hearted minister
wanted. He felt positive that they would soon change their ways, after
getting to know him better.
Indeed, everything seemed to be working along famously. Even Nat and
Dit had concluded that they would be silly to deny themselves the
splendid privileges afforded by the Y. M. C. A. building when they
could be obtained by a simple little written apology.
So one day Mr. Holwell was surprised, and pleased as well, no doubt, to
receive a letter by mail, signed by Nat Silmore, Dit Hennesy and Alonzo
Crane, in which the trio declared they were truly sorry they had
annoyed the good man on that former occasion. They promised that if he
would forgive them, and allow them to send in their names, they would
surely obey the rules of the association.
Perhaps even Mr. Holwell may have had serious doubts as to the genuine
nature of their reformation. He must have guessed that the main thing
with Nat was to be able to enjoy the various pleasant gatherings
afforded by the new association. But Mr. Holwell was always ready to
give a fellow another chance, and he hastened to seek an interview with
each of the three obstreperous signers of the “apology.”
It ended in their being admitted to membership in the Boys’ Department,
much to the chagrin of some of the older members, who among themselves
prophesied all sorts of dire disasters as the inevitable result.
“They’re just coming in so as to upset things,” declared Dan Fenwick
to several of his best friends when they found Nat and the other two
having the time of their lives on the parallel bars one evening, and
grinning openly at each fresh arrival as if to say tauntingly: “Thought
you’d keep us out, didn’t you? But you’ve got another guess coming,
see!”
Harry Bartlett did not fully share in the hopes of Mr. Holwell
regarding the possible “turning over of a new leaf” on the part of
Nat. He knew the youth to be “a tough case,” and believed that when he
had exhausted the pleasures of the new order of things, they would hear
from him again in the shape of some of his notorious tricks.
So the leader of the Y. M. C. A. made up his mind to say nothing, but
to keep his eye closely on Nat. And he was firmly resolved that at the
first sign of trouble the unruly fellow should be shown the door.
Dick was already busily engaged on his farce. The rules of the game had
been laid down plainly by Mr. Holwell at the last weekly meeting.
“Every member in good standing of the Boys’ Department is entitled to
a chance to win the prize,” he had told them. “The farce is to be not
only wholly original, even to the jokes, words of songs and choruses,
but it must be clean, and entirely unobjectionable. Nothing that could
offend your mothers and sisters will be tolerated for a minute. It is
intended for at least eight principals to take separate parts, and the
copy must be handed in two weeks from today, so we can practice before
the Christmas holidays.”
When some of the eager boys who meant to try for the rich prize evinced
a strong desire for more information, Mr. Holwell continued his remarks.
“The committee will read every farce submitted, and if there are two
that seem to be of about equal merit the mayor of Cliffwood has kindly
consented to act as umpire so as to decide which is the better. I have
also agreed to serve as adviser to the committee; and I want it to be
known that no favorites will be played.”
“Hurrah!” cried the listening boys, though every one knew full well
even before Mr. Holwell said this that the awarding of the golden prize
would be done fairly, because he was a square man.
“Every tub will have to stand on its own bottom, you understand,”
continued the minister, looking down into the faces of the score and
more of boys occupying seats in front of him. “And may the best fellow
win is the wish of not only myself, but the committee, and every one
interested in this work.”
To the astonishment, and amusement as well, of some of the boys,
Nat Silmore, the night he joined, openly announced his intention of
competing for the prize.
“Grin all you want to,” he told some of the boys who had gathered near
him later in that evening when he and his cronies had become members of
the Junior League; “but all the same I’ve got a hunch you’ll laugh on
the other side of your mouths when you find out how easy I’m goin’ to
run away with that yellow stuff.”
“But you never were much of a success at school in composition, you
know, Nat,” remarked Phil Harkness. “So what makes you think you can
beat the rest of us, with one hand tied down?”
Nat winked knowingly as he answered this question.
“Oh! mebbe I’ve been practicin’ on the sly all this time,” he told them
with a nod of his head. “P’raps I discovered I had a reg’lar gift ’long
the line of makin’ up jokes and crackin’ lively puns. Huh! you just
wait and see what happens. I’m just gettin’ to find myself, I reckon.
Some of these days you’ll see folks take off their hats when they speak
of Nat Silmore, the celebrated author!”
It was hard to know just what Nat meant when he talked like this. Even
Mr. Holwell might have been deceived by his apparent earnestness,
indulging in the hope that the bully of Cliffwood had actually begun to
see a light, and realized it paid to be decent after all.
As for the boys, they were all at sea, and the subject often came up
when two or three of them got together to talk things over.
“It’ll pay to keep your eye on Nat,” was the sage comment of Dan
Fenwick that same evening, when they were getting ready to go home.
“He’s got something going in that shrewd brain of his, I take it. He’ll
surprise us by springing a prank, or else by actually copping that
prize.”
“Wake me up when he does that last,” laughed Leslie. “He’ll play
second fiddle to a lot of us besides Dick, who have set out to have a
fling for the money.”
Dick himself did not feel at all uneasy. He was coming along finely
with his farce, and already began to entertain high hopes that it would
land the prize. As Leslie was himself laboring with considerable vim to
compose a similar effort, of course Dick could not read any of his work
to his best chum, so he took it out on his folks at home, all of whom
declared that it was “just splendid.”
As usual the two boys walked home together.
“One good thing I can see about Nat joining the club,” ventured Leslie,
as they sauntered along leisurely, “is the fact that for the time being
it may keep him out of mischief. For instance, here we are taking it
easy going home, without any fear of being suddenly pelted with a
shower of rocks, or having some trick played on us.”
“I hope that Mr. Holwell won’t be disappointed,” ventured Dick, who was
very fond of the minister, as were most of the boys; “because I can see
he is beginning to believe Nat’s changing his ways. Some of us boys
would like to see that same thing, but we’ll only believe it when he’s
proved himself sincere.”
“And Dick, I don’t believe Nat’s forgiven us for the way we upset
his little game on the night he waylaid us,” continued Leslie. “You
remember both Nat and Dit did have a black eye apiece the next day,
though they claimed to have gotten them by running against something
in the dark. We knew what it was they struck; and most of the other
fellows did too.”
“Yes, I saw him looking pretty hard at me more than once,” admitted
Dick, “and could give a good guess what he was thinking he’d like to
do while I was hanging head-down from the trapeze. But both of us will
always be careful whenever Nat’s in the gymnasium.”
“How about our scheme, Dick?” continued Leslie. “You keep on telling me
that hardly a day passes without little Billy wandering over into Old
Jed Nocker’s yard and meeting the deacon. By this time it strikes me
the crabbed old man must have begun to get pretty much interested in
our Billy.”
“Oh! he certainly is,” came the prompt reply, “and has even been
questioning the little chap about his mother, whom he knows simply as
the Widow Smith, and has only glimpsed through the trees as she walked
about the Brandon grounds.”
“Then you’ll be wanting to spring the trap before a great while, I
reckon?” pursued Leslie, eagerly.
“Better wait until we’re sure he’s fallen head over heels into the
pit,” urged Dick. “The weather has been mighty fine for November.
There was one day though when Billy was kept in because he was a
little off his feed, and would you believe it, along about four in the
afternoon there came over to the Brandon place the man servant Mr.
Nocker has, fetching a polite little note asking the mother to assure
him that the dear child was all right, as he had missed him very much.”
“Fine, Dick!” exclaimed Leslie. “I’d like to see them together if it
could be arranged.”
“You shall, and tomorrow at that,” replied Dick. “We’ll go together and
hide in the bushes while little Billy wanders through the hole in the
fence.”