GARY IS SURPRISED
Let Gil and Poke tell about Gary’s surprise party, for they were
eye-witnesses.
“You could have knocked me over with a feather,” declared Poke――the
four Sunnywood boys were on their way back to the cottage at noon――“and
I never thought Nancy Hanks had it in him! Here’s the way it was. Most
of the class were in their seats and Mort Nichols――he’s monitor, you
know――was calling the roll. When he got to the G’s he skipped Bull’s
name because he could see that Bull wasn’t there. Mort’s rather a
chum of Bull’s, you know. But Nancy was on to him. ‘You’ve left out a
name, Nichols,’ says he. ‘Go back, please.’ So Mort gets sort of red
and calls, ‘Gary.’ And Bull, who had just come loafing in at the door
says, ‘Dead on the field of battle,’ and the fellows began to laugh. It
really was funny, wasn’t it, Gil?”
“Rather.”
“Pshaw! You laughed, too. I saw you. Well, Nancy never turned a hair――”
“The funny thing,” interrupted Gil, “was the way Mr. Hanks was looking.
He was sort of white and frightened and he had his mouth set in a
straight line like――like this.” And Gil illustrated. “I never saw him
look that way before.”
“And he had a funny little sparkle in his eyes,” said Poke. “Did you
notice that, Gil?”
“Yes. He really looked kind of dangerous and I was mighty glad I wasn’t
Bull Gary just then.”
“Well, get on with your story,” said Jim. “Then what happened?”
“Then,” replied Gil, “Mr. Hanks said, ‘Are we to understand by that
cryptic remark, Gary, that you desire to be marked as present?’ And
Bull was so flabbergasted that all he could do was stammer, ‘Y-yes,
sir.’ ‘Mark Gary present,’ said Mr. Hanks. So Mort went on with the
roll and we began the recitation, all the fellows looking at each other
and wondering what had happened to Mr. Hanks. Marshall was reciting
when there was a crash at the back of the room. It seems that Bull
had reached out with his foot and poked over a pile of books on Punk
Gibbs’ desk. Mr. Hanks held up a hand and Marshall stopped. ‘Whose
books are those?’ he asked. ‘Mine, sir,’ replied Punk very, very
meekly. ‘Pick them up, please.’ So Punk picked them up and put them
back and the room was very quiet. Every one was grinning, but no one
made a sound. Marshall started off again when――_bang!_ went the pile of
books once more. Mr. Hanks lifted his hand. ‘Whose books are those?’
he asked again. ‘Mine,’ said Punk, looking sort of scared. ‘Pick them
up, please.’ ‘I didn’t knock them off,’ grumbled Punk. ‘Who did?’ asked
Mr. Hanks. But Punk wouldn’t tell. Then Mr. Hanks said, ‘The student
who pushed those books onto the floor will kindly pick them up.’ No
one moved for a minute. ‘We will wait,’ said Mr. Hanks, and sat down
again in his chair. Finally Punk grumbled something and started to pick
them up, when Mr. Hanks said: ‘Let them alone, Gibbs!’ And Punk sat
up as though he was shot. Another minute or so passed. Some one began
to snigger nervously at the back of the room. ‘Who’s that laughing?’
asked Mr. Hanks. After that there wasn’t a sound. Finally Mr. Hanks
looked at the clock. ‘I’ve given you plenty of time,’ he said, ‘but you
may have thirty seconds more in which to replace those books,’ and he
looked straight at Bull. Bull grinned, but didn’t move.”
“Just the same,” broke in Poke, “he was getting pretty nervous.”
“We all were,” said Gil. “Finally Mr. Hanks said, ‘Time’s up, Gary.
You’re delaying the recitation.’ ‘I didn’t knock them off,’ said Bull
in his ugliest tones. ‘You didn’t?’ asked Mr. Hanks very quietly.
‘Think well, Gary, before you answer.’ Bull looked around and grinned.
‘No, I didn’t,’ said he. And then Mr. Hanks, our quiet little Nancy
Hanks, exploded a bombshell. ‘Report to Mr. Gordon, Gary,’ said he
sternly. Bull sat and looked at him with his mouth wide open, too
surprised to speak, and the rest of us just gasped. Finally Bull said,
‘What for, sir?’ in that bullying way of his, and Mr. Hanks came back
at him like a flash. ‘For disturbance in class and lying!’ he said!”
“And that,” murmured Poke, “was the way the battle was fit.”
“Gee!” said Jim. “Gary must have been surprised.”
“Did he go right away?” asked Jeffrey.
“Like a lamb,” answered Gil. “And then, ‘Please continue, Marshall,’
said Mr. Hanks. And there wasn’t a better-behaved class in school than
we were!”
“Just what we told him would happen,” declared Poke. “He ought to be
mighty grateful to us for giving him the tip.”
“He will probably send up a set of engraved resolutions, thanking us,”
said Jim dryly.
“What I want to know is,” remarked Jeffrey as they passed through the
cottage gate, “what the team’s going to do without Gary at right guard.”
“I wonder myself,” mused Gil as they took their places on the porch.
“Probably they’ll bring Parker over from the second. But it’s going to
weaken the team like anything.”
“How long will J. G. keep him on pro?” asked Poke.
“Search me. Maybe he will let him back in time for the big game. That’s
not much more than a month away now.”
“I hope he will,” said Jeffrey. “We certainly need him in the line.”
“But think of Nancy rearing up and being saucy like that!” marveled
Poke. “I could hardly believe my own little eyes, fellows!”
“It’s a case of the worm will turn,” observed Jeffrey.
“And here comes the worm,” whispered Jim.
Mr. Hanks came along the road with a bundle of blue books under his
arm. He had discarded his straw hat for a faded black Fedora that was
perhaps two sizes too large for him and that settled down over his
forehead in a desperate and rakish manner. To-day it seemed to the boys
on the porch that the instructor held his head more erect and stepped
out more briskly. When he came up the steps they were all on their feet
and unconsciously there was a new respect in the way in which they
stood at attention and took off their caps. Mr. Hanks bowed his jerky
bow and passed them silently. When he was heard mounting the stairs Jim
observed thoughtfully:
“‘Nancy’ doesn’t seem to fit him so well to-day, fellows.”
Naturally enough Mr. Hanks’ astounding change from the meek and lowly
victim to the high-handed martinet was a nine days’ wonder. During
that nine days three other members of his classes were punished in
various ways and from that time on recitations in Latin and history
were conducted with a decorum that soon became the envy of other
instructors. Mr. Hanks never spoke to Gil or Poke, Jim or Jeffrey about
the matter, nor did he ever show them any special consideration in
class, but in some way they all understood that he was grateful, and
with their new respect for him was a stronger liking.
In the meanwhile football affairs were at sixes and sevens for the
better part of a week, for Gary’s probation prohibited him from taking
part in athletics and when he left the team the team lost one of its
strongest units. Parker was tried, but found wanting. Springer, left
guard on the second, was brought across to the first but fared badly in
the first game played. Finally Cosgrove, right tackle on the first, was
moved to Gary’s vacant place, and Curtis, of the second, was promoted
to right tackle on the first. Whereupon, presto!――Mr. James Hazard
found himself with disconcerted suddenness playing left tackle on the
second team! And the season was half over and already the Hawthorne
game loomed large and impending on the horizon.
To say that Jim was pleased is putting it but mildly. To say that he
was secretly alarmed is no more than the truth. It is one thing to
serve as a substitute and be put in for five or ten minutes when the
game is safe and quite another to be a first string man. On defense
Jim found himself opposed to Tearney, right end on the first, and that
was not so bad, but on the attack he had Cosgrove in front of him and
Cosgrove was an old and experienced player with a most irritating trick
of coaxing Jim off-side, for which, for the first week or so, Jim was
forever being censured by coach and captain and quarter-back. Of course
playing on the second team is not as momentous an affair as being on
the ’varsity, but it’s the next biggest thing, and if any one thinks
that a second team doesn’t take itself very seriously they should have
watched proceedings at Crofton that fall. The second, captained by
Page, the tiny quarter-back, went into every tussle as though the fair
honor of Crofton was in their keeping. The second regretted the loss of
Curtis, but speedily made Jim welcome to their ranks. He soon got close
to several fellows well worth knowing and within a fortnight was “Jim”
to every member of the team.
At Sunnywood, true to their promise, Gil and Poke assisted in the
household duties every morning and evening. Mrs. Hazard had instead of
one majordomo three cheerfully willing assistants. Chilly weather had
come and the furnace had begun its duty, and in the morning the three
boys descended to the cellar and put it in shape, raking out ashes
and sifting them, shoveling coal, picking over cinders and splitting
kindling for the kitchen. Jeffrey, although barred from taking an
active part in the chores, made himself useful whenever possible. In
the evening a somewhat similar program was carried out, and at ten
o’clock Poke, who had evolved certain theories for the scientific
management of furnaces, went down and fixed the fire for the night. In
this way Jim had plenty of time to pursue the gentle art of football.
[Illustration: Gil and Poke assisted in the household duties.]