Heady!
The Twins stood and stared at each other like tailors' dummies for a
moment, while the strangers on the platform and on the train wondered
if they were seeing double.
Then Reddy and Heady dropped each his valise, and made a spring. And
each landed on the other's neck.
Now Sawed-Off seized Heady's valise, and Jumbo seized Reddy's, and
then they all set off together--the reunited Twins, the completed
Dozen--for the campus. The whole Twelve felt a new delight in the
reunion, and realized for the first time how dear the Dozen was.
The Twins, of course, were blissfulest of all, and marched at the head
of the column with their arms about each other, exchanging news and
olds, both talking at once, and each understanding perfectly what the
other was trying to say.
Thus they proceeded, glowing with mutual affection, till they reached
the edge of the campus, when the others saw the Twins suddenly loose
their hold on each other, and fall to, hammer and tongs, over some
quarrel whose beginning the rest had not heard.
Jumbo grinned and murmured to Sawed-Off: "The Twins are themselves
again."
But Sawed-Off hastened to separate and pacify them, and they set off
again for Reddy's room, arm in arm. Later Heady arranged with his
parents to let him stay at Kingston for the rest of the school-year.
* * * * *
Heady had not been back among his old cronies long before they had him
up in a corner in Reddy's room, and were all trying at the same time
to tell him of the atrocious behavior of the Crows, their harsh
treatment of Tug and History, the magnificent resistance, and the
glorious rescue.
"It reminds me," said History, "of one of Sir William Scott's novels,
with moats and castles, and swords and shields, and all sorts of
beautiful things."
But B.J. broke in scornfully:
"Aw, that old Scott, he's a deader! It reminds me of one of those new
detective stories with clues and hair-breadth escapes. And Tug is like
'Iron-armed Ike,' who took four villyuns, two in each hand, and swung
them around his head till they got so dizzy that they swounded away,
and then he threw one of 'em through a winder, and used the other
three like baseball bats to knock down a gang of desperate ruffians
that was comin' to the rescue. Oh, but I tell you, it was great!"
"'Strikes me," Bobbles interrupted, "it's more like one of Funnimore
Hooper's Indian stories, with the captives tied to the stake and bein'
tortured and scalluped, and all sorts of horrible things, when along
comes old Leather-boots and picks 'em all off with his trusty rifle."
Two or three others were evidently reminded of something else they
were anxious to describe; but Heady was growing impatient and very
wrathful, and he broke in:
"Well, while you fellows are all being reminded of so many things,
I'd like to ask just one thing, and that is, what are you going to do
about it?"
"Nothing at all," said History. And thinking of his unexpected escape
from his terrible adventure, he added quickly: "I think we did mighty
well to get out of it alive."
"Pooh!" sniffed Heady, getting madder every moment.
"Well, Tug says the same thing," drawled Sleepy. "He says that we got
the best of it all around, and that if anybody's after revenge it
ought to be the Crows, because we wiped 'em off the earth."
"Bah!" snapped Heady. "It isn't enough for the Lakerim Athletic Club
to get out of a thing even, and call quits. Leastways, that wasn't the
pollersy when I used to be with you."
This spirit of revolt from the calm advice of Tug seemed to be
catching, and the other Lakerimmers were becoming much excited. Tug
made a speech, trying to calm the growing rage, and he was supported
by History, who tried to bring up some historical parallels, but was
ordered off the floor by the others. Tug's plan, which was seconded by
History from motives of timidity, was thirded by Sleepy from motives
of laziness.
But Heady leaped to his foot and delivered a wild plea for war, such
another harangue as he had delivered during the famous snow-battle at
the Hawk's Nest. He favored a sharp and speedy retaliation.
"Well, how are you going to retaliate?" said Tug, who saw his
let-her-go policy losing all its force, and who began to grow just a
bit eager himself to give the Crows a good lesson. Still, he repeated,
when Heady only looked puzzled and gave no answer:
"How are you going to retaliate, I say?"
"A chance will come," said Heady, solemnly.
And Reddy, who had been burning up with patriotic zeal for the glory
of Lakerim, was so proud of his brother's success in stirring up a
warlike spirit that he moved over, and sat down beside him on the
window-seat, and put his arms around him, and they never quarreled
again--till after supper.
But the chance came--sooner than any of them expected.