The black horse had begun his work in some of the up-town streets
before Enoch had finished his, and was hurrying past a handsome brick
building just as a crowd of boys were entering it.
“There’s about the place, now,” said Doctor Thorndyke, “where I’d
like to see my little patient with the crooked back, after I once get
him on his feet again. He’d hold his own with the best of them in his
books, if he couldn’t in a foot-race, I’ll warrant, if he only had the
chance; and there’s nothing that would shake him up, and put a stop to
that miserable ‘all but me’ notion of his, like taking his place among
his mates, as he would in a school like that. The only thing is to
get him there. It takes a good deal of a back to sit at one of those
desks;” upon which the doctor fell into such a fit of musing that he
drove three doors beyond the house he was aiming at before he bethought
himself what he was about.
Meanwhile the schoolhouse, at which he had looked with such covetous
eyes for Creepy, seemed half alive with hustling, bustling boys; the
five-minute bell had already rung, and all were making the best of
their way to their places, some flying up to the second floor, two
stairs at a time, some passing in more quietly at other doors, while
here and there a lingering step ventured on a few seconds’ delay to
steal a last glance at a lesson that would have no further chance
after exercises were once commenced. Only one figure stood still at
the foot of the stairs: poor little Tom Haggarty, who had slept off
his humiliation about the chess to some extent, but felt it rushing on
again with most disagreeable force at sight of Hal, and was terribly
anxious to keep at a safe distance from him for the present.
“If I can just keep out of his track till recess,” thought Tom, “he’ll
get warmed up with something else, and wont be apt to think of it. _I_
don’t want him to be telling all the boys he can wind me round his
finger in a game like that. ’Twasn’t hardly fair, either, for I hadn’t
tried but two or three times, and he’s had lots of lessons, and there’s
no end of pieces and moves to carry in a fellow’s head.”
But Hal was one of the lingerers, and it seemed as if he never would
move on. All the other boys on his floor had passed in, and were taking
their seats, while with half an eye on the clock, Hal still stood
outside the partly open door mulling over his arithmetic lesson, that
he knew would be the first to come upon the floor. Tick, tick, went the
clock, and pit-a-pat went Tom’s heart. Could he dare another second? If
that door should be shut before he reached the top of the stairs, there
was a tardy mark for him, and he was making a tremendous effort about
marks this term. Would Hal never move? Perhaps he could creep up softly
without his noticing. He put his foot on the first stair, then on the
second, keeping his eye on Hal, when suddenly he was no longer there.
He had glided in and the door was shut! In a second Tom was at the top
and with his hand on the door-knob. The monitor, who had not really
removed his own from it to turn the key, allowed it to open. Tom who
felt small enough at that moment to have gone through the keyhole, was
admitted, and stealing a glance at Hal, already in his seat, met a look
that told him things were worse than ever.
He would have given his new hat if he had not seen it, for let him
work as he would at his lessons, that look, with what it promised for
recess, hung about him like some ugly hobgoblin all the morning, and
seemed to put a twist into everything. He called Eheu a noun, and
said the Barbadoes were in the Arctic ocean, and finished an algebra
example, on the blackboard, in long division, and altogether, when
recess came, he felt so completely down that he didn’t care about going
out at all, and if he had cared ever so much, he would not have come
across Hal for all the recesses in the quarter. So he sat at his desk,
and heard the shouts of some tremendous fun coming up to his window,
and when the rest came in all aglow with October sun and air, his head
ached, and he couldn’t see head or tail to the lesson that lay before
him.
But one o’clock came at last; out poured the stream again, and luckless
Tom ran on with the rest, hoping that the tide swelled high enough to
hide him between the waves, but they parted just in time to let Hal get
a glimpse of him.
“Hallo, Checkmaty!” he shouted, “how are bishops this morning? Don’t
you want to send your compliments to a fellow’s queen?”
“Checkmaty?” echoed Ned Farraday, a boy in the next class to Tom’s;
“what’s that? Did you corner him?”
“Corner him! you ought to have seen me wind him up last night! There
wasn’t as much left of him as would point off a fraction. If he had
been as slow with his moves as he was in getting to school this
morning, he might have done better. How’s that tardy mark going to look
on the report, my man? ’Twont help much towards your three hundred, eh?”
“I wasn’t tardy!” answered Tom defiantly, for the question of the three
hundred was too tender to bear touching.
“Oh, you weren’t!” cried Hal. “Wasn’t he, boys? you saw as well as I
did.”
“Didn’t he get in?” asked one of the boys. “I didn’t see.”
“Get in!” said Ned Farraday, taking up the keynote Hal had given; “I
should think not much! The door was shut fair and square before it saw
his shadow. If anybody don’t believe it they can look on the book and
see.”
“Look on the book and see,” set up a chorus of voices on all sides.
“I tell you there’s no mark there,” declared Tom again, getting very
red, and the miserable feeling that had got as far as his pockets last
night, was running down to his very boots.
“I wouldn’t say much about marks if I were you, Ned Farraday,” called
out a boy a little larger than he. “I heard the professor call your
Latin a failure, and that marks you down to six, and you know very
well if Tom _was_ tardy it only marks him eight.”
Ned grew red in his turn and drew in his horns at once, but Hal went on.
“I say, Checkmaty, how long has Eheu been a noun? Ever since it meant a
_lass_, hasn’t it?”
“And _I_ say,” interposed a voice that had not yet spoken, “what’s the
use of badgering a fellow that’s smaller than any nine out of ten of
you here, and can keep up with the best of you if you only give him a
chance. I heard the professor say Tom was six months ahead of his age
in his classes; and as for this morning, you know well enough there’s
no tardy mark when the door hasn’t been locked. Why can’t you be men
enough to see there’s no fun in crowding a fellow? Come along, Tom;
we’re going to have a game of base-ball this afternoon, and I want you
for first pitcher. Let’s all go and get dinner, and be on the ground at
four o’clock.”
It was Aleck Halliday, and Tom had felt his heart come up out of his
boots with a great thump the instant he heard his voice, for he knew
well enough it never spoke except to make somebody feel all right, if
not positively jolly.
He slipped over to Aleck’s side and walked along feeling safe in the
shadow of his tall shoulders, and almost sunshiny once more in the
light of his handsome, friendly face. Tom had often wondered what Aleck
was made of; he was sure there was some material in his composition
very different from what went into other boys, but he had never
quite decided whether it was what usually went to make up princes,
or something higher still and supposed to have wings. Any how, a boy
that was being “badgered,” as he called it, might be sure Aleck would
fume and chafe a few minutes, as a great, noble Newfoundland might
watch a cat worrying a mouse, and then, when he couldn’t bear it any
longer, plunge in and scatter the sport, and stand guard by some little
nook or cranny till the victim had a chance to escape. And as for the
badgerers, an indefinite suspicion that they had been doing something
mean was very sure to creep over them, and the ghost of an idea that it
might be nobler sport to help a fellow along, than to push him down,
would glimmer faintly at them from a distance; but unfortunately this
never lasted long, and they were pretty sure to be ready for the next
mouse that might come in their way.
But for this time the fun was over; Tom was safe, and the mousers
scattered off in search of a more substantial mouthful in the shape
of dinner, and one or two lessons to be got well in hand before four
o’clock, so that no demands of body or brain should interfere with the
promised fun on the ball-ground.
No one was more fond of the game than Tom; and though he was the
smallest boy in his set, he was considered one of the best players,
for he was swift as a deer, and had a true eye and hand, and a deal of
pluck at carrying out what he undertook; that is to say, so long as
nobody snubbed him, but that was the one thing he could not stand, and
the moment anybody did it, he felt everything that would ever make a
man of him oozing out at his finger-ends, and was ready to knock under
for ever. He wished he wasn’t such a little fool about it; other boys
snubbed each other, and were snubbed in turn a hundred times a day,
and never seemed to mind it much, but it was no use with him. If there
were only more Aleck Hallidays! But never mind. He was going to play
a good game this afternoon, he felt it in his bones, and perhaps Hal
would think something of him again, if he made a first-rate run for his
side--of course he would be on his side if he were to play with Aleck.
But to his surprise he found Hal had decided to play a match-game
against Aleck; and Tom, feeling pretty strong under his captain’s
shadow, ventured to prophesy a victory for his own side.
“Where are you going to get it?” asked Hal.
“We’ve got better fellows on our side than you have,” answered Tom,
with an innocent idea that the truth should be spoken at all times.
“I suppose you count yourself among them,” said Hal with a sneer; “name
them over, and when they play.”
“No, I don’t count myself among them,” said Tom, wishing he had sense
enough to let things alone; but Aleck calling to Hal just then to
choose an umpire, the mouse ran off once more.
The umpire and the scorer were soon chosen; the umpire pitched up
a cent, which coming down in Aleck’s favor, gave him his choice of
innings, and he of course chose the second.
As Hal was captain of his side, he struck first, and sent the ball a
little beyond Tom, who was pitcher. Tom picked it up and threw it to
the first-baseman, who caught it on the fly just as Hal was a single
step from the base.
Tom halloed for judgment, but Hal was pronounced “not out” by the
umpire.
“That isn’t fair,” said Tom.
“I say it is,” said Hal.
“It’s not. I wouldn’t play to it, Tom,” cried his left-fielder.
“Well, your side can get some one else, then,” said Hal.
“Never mind,” said the catcher on Tom’s side; “let’s draw lots for a
‘say so.’” The lot was drawn, and gave the decision in Hal’s favor.
“Three grunts for Tom,” said Hal, with the same disagreeable chuckle
that had worried Tom so much the night before.
“No, no,” cried Aleck; “it was out by fair rights.”
“You’re not going to dispute the umpire, are you?” said Hal; but the
umpire called time, and the game went on.
At Tom’s next pitch, Hal ran for the second base; but the catcher was
too quick for him, throwing the ball to the second-baseman, who caught
it, and this time Hal was fairly out.
“Judgment on that,” cried Hal and the second-baseman.
“Out on the second,” said the umpire.
“There!” cried Tom as Hal went past him; “that proves it was out on
the first, anyhow. A pretty place a player like you gets into when he
calls for judgment.”
Tom’s side was now in; if he could only do something that would put
him for once above the range of Hal’s success! Fired with this hope
and with the thought of winning laurels for such a captain as he had,
he took up the bat with the determination to do something brilliant;
but venturing one glance at Hal, caught sight of a sideways gesture
that he knew well enough was meant to remind him of the fatal swoop
of Hal’s bishops the night before, his hand faltered, and the ball,
instead of taking the direction he intended, struck directly in front
of him. There was no chance now but in his heels, and flying like a
deer, he made the first three bases successfully, but that was all. On
the home-base, he could not tell how it happened, he was put out by the
catcher.
“Aha!” came up a taunting laugh from Hal’s side; “there’s a case that
don’t call for judgment very much;” and Tom walked off and sat down by
some of his fellows, feeling miserable enough. What _was_ the reason
all games were so disagreeable, no matter how hard a fellow tried to do
his best?
“Never mind, Tom,” said Aleck’s cheery voice, “Davis will make up for
it, and you got those three bases handsomely.”
Tom looked up; he hadn’t ventured to raise his eyes before, lest Aleck
should show that he had disappointed him; but there he was, with just
as friendly a glow in his face as if Tom had covered him with glory.
Tom felt his heart warming under it again in an instant, and in another
moment Carter, the catcher, had knocked the ball down beyond the
centre-field, and got a home-run.
Tom felt all right again now, and began to cheer on the other men to
do their best, determined that he would bring in his own honors when
his turn came again. The next three runners got a score apiece, but the
fourth knocked a fly to left field, and was out; the next got out on
two strikes and Hal’s side was in again, with ten runs ahead when they
took the field.
The game however went on pretty equally. Aleck played his best, though
there were some mishaps and disappointments on each side, until the
eight inning, when Tom’s side got fairly “choked,” and left Hal’s still
ahead by ten runs.
“Who did you say had the best fellows on his side?” asked Hal
triumphantly, as he passed near Tom.
“Now Tom, my boy,” said Aleck, “this is our last chance; show us your
best playing and help the others on, and we’ll beat them yet.”
This was enough to have spurred Tom on to meet the thunders of a real
battle-field, if Aleck’s honor had demanded it, and he took his place
with all the determination of a Trojan.
But Hal saw it was his last chance too, and waiting till his second
baseman, who was also his second best man, was ready, told him to
strike directly for Tom and “scare him.” Tom started and thought
he was in time, but a cry from Hal of “There’s a queen’s head for
you, Checkmaty! Catch her!” flew faster than the ball. It came too
disagreeably on top of the surprise; Tom muffed the ball, and three
groans were set up from the other side.
Tom never could do anything after he had been hooted. He made a failure
of everything that followed. The rest seemed to catch discouragement
from him, and the game ended in favor of Hal’s side, with a majority of
eleven, the score being forty-one to thirty.
The boys crowded together to discuss the game, but Tom had a prodigious
amount of something to do at a distance. He could hear Aleck’s catcher
trying to prove that the second baseman had been all wrong somewhere,
and Hal’s triumphant laugh came floating down to where he stood; he
wouldn’t have gone any nearer him to hear all the discussions in the
world. And as for Aleck! he was sure he’d find it hard to forgive him,
this time, if never before.
He managed to slip off one side of the crowd, without much notice, and
made the best of his way toward home. What _was_ the reason things
always went wrong that he had anything to do with? Other boys didn’t
seem to have half the trouble, or else they didn’t mind it as much.
But he was sure Carter must have felt horridly to have Davis trying
to make out that he had done just the wrong thing, and the rest all
seemed so eager to have it proved. He wondered why there couldn’t be
some pleasure in proving a fellow had done well now and then; but there
couldn’t be, for nobody ever seemed to like it.
“I say, Tom,” shouted a voice behind him, and there was Aleck,
overtaking him with long strides.
“I say, Tom--hallo, old fellow, you’re not drawing such a long face as
that over a game of ball are you? It isn’t worth it, my man! It’s fun
enough while it lasts, but nothing after it’s over.”
“I was afraid you’d think it all my fault,” Tom managed to say, though
dreading even the sound of his own words.
“All your fault! Nonsense! you made as good a score as any of them, and
some of the others were out on more runs than you. I didn’t play any
too well myself, but ’twas the way luck would have it, I suppose, and
we’ll beat them all the same next time. But I was going to say, you’ve
been helping me all the afternoon, and I thought you were bothered with
those examples this morning; don’t you want a lift before to-morrow?”
“Helping him!” Tom could have hugged the ground he walked on!