CHAPTER XIV
THE ROW ON THE CAMPUS
"Shake!" cried Frank, rushing forward and extending a warm hand.
The boy peeling potatoes looked up in some surprise. For a minute he waspuzzled. Then his face broke into a genial smile.
"It's the fellow I met at Tipton----" he began.
"That's who--Frank Jordan."
"Who saved me from getting robbed."
"Put it that way, if you like," answered Frank. "How did you ever comehere?"
"Walked, coaxed freight hands, and got some passenger lifts," explainedNed. "You know I told you I was going out of the scissors grinding and intoschool?"
"I know you did."
"Well, I've landed. I've saved up twenty dollars. That don't go far intuition, so I'm working my way through school."
"Good for you," cheered Frank. "You're the kind that makes a mark in theworld. Say, come up to my room. I want to have a real chummy chat withyou."
"I couldn't do that just now," demurred Ned. "You see, I help in thekitchen here from six to eight in the morning, eleven to one at noon andfive to seven in the evening."
"I haven't seen you in any of the classes."
"No; one of the professors is coaching me. You see, I need training to getinto even the lowest class. As I said, I can't leave my work here now, butI may meet you occasionally after dark."
"Come at four this afternoon."
"Think I'd better?" inquired Ned dubiously.
"Why not?"
"Well, to be candid," answered Ned manfully, "my clothes aren't very good,as you see, and some of the fellows here have pretty well snubbed me, andmaybe it would be wiser for me to keep my place."
"Your place?" fired up Frank. "Except among the stuck-up cads, your placeis to be welcome to all the privileges of any well-behaved student, andI'll see to it that you get them, too."
"Hi, Jordan; on the domestic list?" broke in Banbury just then. He hadregained the baseball and with his companion stood staring at Frank andNed.
"Hum! I should say so," sniggered Durkin with a chuckle. "Pah! How itsmells of onions and dishwater!"
"Take your friend and introduce him to Ritchie," sneered Banbury. "He needsa new catcher for his measly team that we're going to wallop to-morrow."
"Say," spoke Frank steadily, though with a flashing eye, "I'll bet you thatmy friend here--understand, my friend, Ned Foreman--would prove as good acatcher as he has to my knowledge run a business where he was trusted anddid his duty well. I'll make another bet--you'll be the second-rate scholaryou are now two years further on, when my friend is the boss of somesurveying camp, where the smartest fellow is the one who has learned thecooking and science both--not a smattering--but from the ground up."
"Yah!" yawped Banbury, but he saw something in Frank's eye that warned himto sheer off promptly.
"You'll run up against a few cads like that fellow," explained Frank toNed. "Use 'em up in one chapter, and stick to the real friends I'llintroduce you to."
"Jordan, you're a true-blue brick," declared Ned heartily, "but I know fromexperience how these things go----"
"There's the rally whistle for our crowd, so I've got to go," interruptedFrank; "but four o'clock at my room. You come, or I'll come and fetch you."
Frank bolted off for the campus. As he neared his group of friends heobserved the Banbury crowd, just rejoined by their leader and Durkin.Banbury was pointing at Frank and saying something, derisively hailed byhis companions. Then Frank saw his stanch champion, Bob Upton, springforward with clenched fists. Frank hurried his steps, guessing out thesituation, and anxious to rescue his impetuous friend from an outbreak.
"Hi, chef!" howled out Durkin, as Frank approached, and Frank knew that themean-spirited cads had been spreading the story of his meeting with NedForeman.
"What have you got to say about it, huh? Who are you?" Frank heard Bob cryout angrily, as he came nearer to the crowd.
Frank could not repress a start as he observed the boy whom Bob was facing.He was a newcomer--he was Gill Mace. It appeared that the nephew of theTipton jeweler had been sent to the same school as Frank.
Gill Mace looked as mean as ever. There was a sneer on his face. He wasloudly dressed, or rather overdressed. His uncle had probably provided himwith plenty of spending money, for he was jingling some coins in hispocket. His money and his natural cheek had evidently made him "solid" withBanbury and the others, for they seemed to be upholding his braggartinsolence.
"Don't get hot, sonny," advised Gill. "I said that Jordan needed to makefriends, for he never had any where he came from," and then, staring meanlyat Frank, he whispered something to Banbury.
"Hello!" broke out the latter. "That so? Jordan, how's the diamond marketthis morning?"
Frank started as if he had been struck by a whiplash. A bright red spotshowed on either cheek. His eyes flashed, his finger nails dug into thepalms of his hands.
He advanced straight up to where Gill Mace stood, brushing aside heedlesslyall who were in his way. The jeweler's nephew tried to hide behind hiscohorts in a craven way, but Frank fixed him with his eye.
"Gill Mace," he spoke in a firm, stern tone, "you have been telling thatbully friend of yours some more of the falsehoods you peddled out atTipton."
"I told him how you stood in that old burg," admitted Gill.
"What do you mean?"
"I said that you robbed my uncle's jewelry shop."
"Then you uttered a low, malicious falsehood," retorted Frank. "Fellows,"he cried, turning to his adherents, "I ducked this sneak in a mud puddlefor lying about me once. I want to now make the announcement in public thatif within twenty-four hours he does not retract his words I shall whip himtill he can't stand, leave the academy, and never come back till I have theproofs to vindicate myself, which I can do."
Mace turned white about the corners of his mouth.
"Everybody in Tipton knows that Frank Jordan stole a diamond bracelet frommy uncle," he stammered.
"It's false!" shouted out Bob Upton, squarely springing before Gill, whoretreated in dismay, "and you are more than a thief, for you're trying torob an honest boy of his good name. Take that!"
And Bob Upton knocked Gill Mace down--flat.
The Boys of Bellwood School; Or, Frank Jordan's Triumph Page 14