During the busy October week Dink found little time to vent the
brewing mischief within him. The afternoons were given over to the
dogged pursuit of the elusive pigskin. In the evenings he resolutely
turned his back on all midnight spreads or expeditions to the
protecting shadows of the woods to smoke the abhorrent cigarette, for
the joy of the risk run. At nine o'clock promptly each night he dove
into bed, wrapped the covers about his head and, leaving the Tennessee
Shad deep in the pages of Dumas, went soaring off into lands where
goals are kicked from the center of the field, winning touchdowns
scored in the last minute of play and bonfires lighted for his special
honor. He was only end on the scrub, eagerly learning the game; but
with the intensity of his nature that territory, which each afternoon
he lined up to defend, was his in sacred trust; and he resolved that
the trust of his captain should not be misplaced if it lay in his
power to prevent it.
However, the busy mind was not entirely inactive. With the memory of
his financial disappointment came the resolve to square himself with
The Roman and turn the tables on Doc Macnooder.
The opportunity to do the first came in an unexpected way.
One evening P. Lentz came in upon them in great agitation.
"Why, King," said Dennis, who was lolling around, "you're excited,
very, very much excited!"
"Shut up!" said the King of the Kennedy, who was in anything but a
good humor. "It's the deuce to pay. I've had a first warning."
At this every one looked grave, and Dink, the loyalist, said:
"Oh, King, how could you!"
For another warning meant banishment from the football team and all
the devastation that implied.
"That would just about end us," said Dennis. "Might as well save
Andover the traveling expenses."
"I know, I know!" said P. Lentz furiously. "I've had it all said to
me. Beautifully expressed, too. Question is, what's to be done? It's
all the fault of old Baranson. He's been down on me ever since we
licked the Woodhull."
"We must think of something," said the Tennessee Shad.
"How about a doctor's certificate?"
"Rats!"
"We might get up a demonstration against Baranson."
"Lot's of good that'll do me!"
Various suggestions were offered and rejected.
"Well, King," said the Tennessee Shad at last, "I don't see there's
anything to it but you'll have to buckle down and study."
"Study?" said P. Lentz. "Is that the best you can produce?"
"It seems the simplest."
"I came here for consolation," said P. Lentz, who thereupon departed
angrily.
"Still, it'll come to that," said the Tennessee Shad.
"P. Lentz study?" said Finnegan contemptuously. "Can a duck whistle?"
"Then we'll have to tutor him."
"What says Dink?"
"Don't bother me, I'm thinking."
"Gracious, may I watch you?"
"Shad," said Stover, ignoring Dennis, "did it ever occur to you how
unscientific this whole game is?"
"What game?"
"This chasing the Latin root, wrestling with the unknown equation, and
all that sort of thing."
"Proceed."
"Why are we smashed up? Because we are discouraged all fighting alone,
unscientifically. Does the light dawn?"
"Very slowly," said the Tennessee Shad. "Keep dawning."
"I am thinking of organizing," said Stover impressively, "The Kennedy
Co-operative Educational Institute."
"Aha!" said the Tennessee Shad. "_Video, je vois_, I see. All
third-formers in the house meet, divide up the lesson and then
fraternize."
"Where do I come in?" said Finnegan, who was two forms below.
"A very excellent idea," said the Tennessee Shad in final approval.
"I've a better one now," said Stover.
"Why, Dink!"
"It begins by chucking the Co-operative idea."
"How so?"
"There's no money in that," said Stover. "We must give the courses
ourselves, see?"
"Give?" said the Tennessee Shad. "We two shining marks!"
"No," said Stover contemptuously. "We hire the lecturers and collect
from the lectured."
"Why, Shad," said Finnegan, in wide-eyed admiration, "our boy is
growing up!"
"He is, he certainly is. I love the idea!"
"Why, I think it's pretty good myself," said Dink.
"It has only one error--the lecturers."
"Why, that's the finest of the fine," said Dink indignantly. "You see
what I do. Here's Beekstein and Gumbo Binks been laying around as
waste material and the whole house kicking because we've been stuck
with two midnight-oilers. Now what do I do? I utilize them. I make
them a credit to the house, useful citizens."
"True, most true," said the Tennessee Shad. "But why pay? Never pay
any one anything."
Stover acknowledged the superior financial mind, while Finnegan
remained silent, his greatest tribute.
"I suppose we might lasso them," said Stover, "or bring them up in
chains."
"That's only amateurish and besides reprehensible," said the Tennessee
Shad. "No, the highest principle in finance, the real cream de la
creme, is to make others pay you for what you want them to do."
Stover slowly assimilated this profound truth.
"We'll charge twenty-five cents a week to students and we'll make
Beekstein and Gumbo disgorge half a plunk each for letting us listen
to them."
"I am ready to be convinced," said Dink, who still doubted.
"I'll show you how it's done," said the Tennessee Shad, who, going to
the door, called out: "Oh, you Beekstein!"
"Profound, profound mind," said Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan. "Doc
Macnooder is better on detail, but when it comes to theory the
Tennessee Shad is the Willie Keeler boy every time!"
"I've another idea," said Stover, "a way to get even with The Roman,
too."
"What's that?"
"To signal the gerund and the gerundive."
"Magnificent and most popular!" said the Tennessee Shad. "We'll put
that in as a guaranty. Who'll signal?"
"I'll signal," said Stover, claiming the privilege. "It's my right!"
Beekstein, who might be completely described as a pair of black-rimmed
spectacles riding an aquiline nose, now shuffled in with his
dictionary under his arm, his fingers between the leaves of a Cicero
to which he still clung.
"Mr. Hall," said the Tennessee Shad with a flourish, "take any chair
in the room."
Beekstein, alarmed by such generosity, sat down like a ramrod and cast
a roving, anxious glance under the beds and behind the screen.
"Beekstein," said the Tennessee Shad, to reassure him, "we have just
organized the Kennedy Educational Quick Lunch Institute. The purpose
is fraternal, patriotic and convivial. It will be most exclusive and
very secret." He explained the working scheme and then added
anxiously: "Now, Beekstein, you see the position of First Grand Hot
Tamale will be the real thing. He will be, so to speak, Valedictorian
of the Kennedy and certainly ought to be elected secretary of the
house next year. Now, Beekstein, what we got you here for is this.
What do you think of Gumbo for the position? Well, what?"
Beekstein, in his agitation, withdrew his finger from the Orations of
Cicero.
"What's the matter with me?" he said directly. "Gumbo is only a
second-rater."
"He's very strong in mathematics."
"That's the only thing he beats me on!"
"Yes, but, Beekstein, there is another thing--a delicate subject. I
don't know how to approach it. You see, we don't know how you're fixed
for the spondulix," said the Tennessee Shad, who knew perfectly well
the other's flourishing condition. "You see, this is not only
educational, but a very select body, quite a secret society,--with a
midnight spread now and then. Of course there are dues, you see. It
would cost you a half a week."
"Is that all?" said Beekstein, who had never belonged to a secret
society in his life. "Here's the first month down. Right here."
"I don't know how far we are committed to Gumbo," said the Tennessee
Shad, not disdaining to finger the two-dollar bill. "But I'll do
everything I can for you."
Gumbo Binks, being consulted as to the qualifications of Beekstein,
fell into the same trap. He was a monosyllabic, oldish little fellow,
whose cheeks had fallen down and disturbed the balance of his already
bald head. He had but one emotion and one enthusiasm, a professional
jealousy of Beekstein, who was several points ahead of him in the race
for first honors. Under these conditions the Tennessee Shad proceeded
victoriously. Having made sure of each, he next informed them that,
owing to a wide divergence of opinion, a choice seemed impossible.
Each should have two months' opportunity to lecture before the Quick
Lunchers before a vote would be taken.
Under these successful auspices the Institute met enthusiastically the
following day, both the lecturers and the lectured ignoring the
financial status of the others. It was found on careful compilation
that, by close and respectful attention to Professors Beekstein and
Gumbo, twenty minutes would suffice for the rendering of the Greek and
Latin test; while only ten minutes extra were needed to follow the
requirements of mathematics.
The clause in the constitution which pledged defiance to The Roman and
guaranteed protection on the gerund and gerundive was exceedingly
popular. The signals were agreed upon. Absolute rigidity on Stover's
part denounced the gerund, while a slight wriggling of his sensitive
ears betrayed the approach of the abhorrent gerundive.
In his resolve to destroy forever the peace of mind of The Roman, Dink
sat an extra period under Beekstein, stalking and marking down the
lair of these enemies of boykind.
On the following morning The Roman lost no time in calling up P.
Lentz, who, to his amazement, recited creditably.
"Dear me," said The Roman, quite astonished, "the day of miracles is
not over--most astounding! Bring your book to the desk, Lentz--hem!
Everything proper! Profuse apologies, Lentz, profuse ones! The
suspicion is the compliment. I'm quite upset, quite so. First time
such a thing has happened." He hesitated for a moment, debating
whether to allow him to retire with the honors, but his curiosity
proving strong he said: "And now, Lentz, third line, second
word--gerund or gerundive?"
"Gerundive, sir," said P. Lentz promptly, observing Stover's ears in
a state of revolution.
"Fortunate youth! Next line, third word, gerund or gerundive?"
"Gerund, sir."
"Still fortunate! Once more, make your bet, Lentz, red or black?" said
The Roman, smiling, believing Lentz was risking his fortunes on the
alternating system. "Once more. Sixth line, first word, gerund or
gerundive?"
"Gerund, sir."
"Is it possible--is it possible?" said The Roman. "Have I lived to see
it! Sit down, _Mr._ Lentz, sit down."
He sat silent a moment, his lips twitching, his eyebrows alternately
jumping, gazing from the text to P. Lentz and back.
Stover, in the front row, was radiant.
"Gee, that's a stiff one for him to swallow!" he said, chuckling
inwardly. "P. Lentz, of all muts!"
As luck would have it the next boy called up, not being from the
Kennedy, flunked and somewhat restored The Roman's equanimity.
"Now he feels better," thought Dink. "Wait till the next jolt comes,
though!"
"Lazelle," said The Roman.
The Gutter Pup rose, translated fluently and, with his eyes on Dink's
admonitory ears, grappled with the gerund and threw the gerundive.
"Mead," said The Roman, now thoroughly alert.
Lovely, with a show of insouciance, bagged three gerunds and one
gerundive.
The Roman thought a moment and, carefully selecting the experts, sent
Beekstein, Gumbo Binks, the Red Dog and Poler Fox to the blackboards.
Having thus removed the bird dogs, The Roman called up Fatty Harris.
Stover, struggling to maintain his seriousness, grudgingly admired the
professional manner with which The Roman attacked the mystery, the
more so as it showed the wisdom of his own planning; for, had the
signals been left with either Beekstein or Gumbo, the plot would have
been instantly exposed.
As it was, The Roman, to his delighted imagination, at each successful
answer seemed to rise under an electric application.
Stover went out radiant, to receive the delighted congratulations of
the Institute and the recognition of those who were not in the secret.
"We've got him going," he said, skipping over the campus arm in arm
with the Tennessee Shad. "He's nervous as a witch! It's broken him all
up. He won't sleep for a week."
"He'll spot it to-morrow," said the Tennessee Shad.
"I'll lay a bet on it."
The next day The Roman, at the beginning of the lesson, ordered all
the books to the desk and fruitlessly examined them. Macnooder, as
spokesman for the justly indignant class, at once expressed the pain
felt at this evidence of suspicion and demanded an explanation. This
highly strategic manoeuver, which would have tripped up a younger
master, received nothing but a grim smile from The Roman who waved
them to their seats and called up P. Lentz.
"Gerund or gerundive?" he began directly, at the same time rising and
scanning the front ranks.
"Why, gerund, sir," said P. Lentz instantly.
"What, again?" said The Roman, who then called upon Stover.
Dink arose, watched with some trepidation by the rest; for being in
the front row he could receive no signal.
"First paragraph, third word, gerund or gerundive, Stover?"
Dink took a long time, shifting a little as though trying to glance
from side to side, and finally named haltingly:
"Gerund, sir."
"Next line, first word, gerund or gerundive? Look in front of you,
Stover. Look at me."
Dink purposely called it wrong, likewise the next; thereby completing
the mystification of The Roman, who now concentrated his attention on
Macnooder and the Tennessee Shad, as being next in order of suspicion.
The day ended victoriously.
"He won't live out the week," announced Dink. "There are circles under
his eyes already."
"Better quit for a day or two," said the Tennessee Shad.
"Never!"
Now the advantage of Dink's method of signaling was in its absolute
naturalness. For the growing boy wiggles his ears as a pup tries his
teeth or a young goat hardens his horns. Moreover, as Dink held to his
plan of judicious flunking, The Roman's suspicions were completely
diverted. For three days more the lover of the gerund and the
gerundive sought to localize and detect the sources of information
without avail.
Finally on the sixth day The Roman arrived with a briskness that was
at once noted and analyzed. P. Lentz was called and translated.
"We will now take up our daily recreation," said The Roman, in a
gentle voice. "It has been a matter of pleasure to me--not unmixed
with a little surprise, incredulous surprise--to note the sudden
affection of certain members of this class for those elusive forms of
Latin grammar known as the gerund and the gerundive. I had despaired,
in my unbelief I had despaired, of ever satisfactorily impressing
their subtle distinctions on certain, shall we say athletic,
imaginations. It seems I was wrong. I had not enough faith. I am
sorry. It is evident that these Scylla and Charybdis of prosody have
no longer any terrors for you, Lentz. Am I right?"
"Yes, sir," said P. Lentz hesitatingly.
"So--so--no terrors? And now, Lentz, take up your book, take it up.
Direct your unfailing glance at the first paragraph, page sixty-two.
Is it there?"
"Yes, sir."
"Pick out the first gerund you see."
P. Lentz, beyond the aid of human help, gazed into the jungle and
brought forth a supine.
"Is it possible, Lentz?" said The Roman. "Is it possible? Try once
more, but don't guess. Don't guess, Lentz; don't do it."
P. Lentz closed the book and sat down.
"What! A sudden indisposition? Too bad, Lentz, too bad. Now we'll try
Lazelle. Lazelle won't fail. Lazelle has not failed for a week."
The Gutter Pup rose in a panic, guessed and fell horribly over an
ordinary participle.
"Quite mysterious!" said The Roman, himself once more. "Sudden change
of weather. Mead, lend us the assistance of your splendid faculties.
What? Unable to rise? Too bad. Dear me--dear me--quite the feeling of
home again--quite homelike."
The carnage was terrific, the scythe passed over them with the
old-time sweep, laying them low. Once maliciously, when Fatty Harris
was on his feet, The Roman asked:
"Top of page, fifth word, gerund or gerundive?"
"Gerund," said Harris instantly.
"Ah, pardon----" said The Roman, bringing into play both eyebrows. "My
mistake, Harris, entirely my mistake. Go down to the next paragraph
and recognize a gerundive. No? Sit down--gently. Too bad--old methods
must make way for new ideas. Too bad, then you did have one chance in
two and now, where in the whole wide world will you find a friend to
help you? Class is dismissed."
"I told you you couldn't beat The Roman," said the Tennessee Shad.
"I made him change his system, though," said Dink gloriously, "and he
never caught me."
"Well, if you have, how are you going to spot the gerund and the
gerundive?"
"I don't need to; I've learned 'em," said Dink, laughing.