The Turner Twins

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER IX--LAURIE HEARS NEWS

  October arrived with the first touch of cooler weather, and the footballcandidates, who had panted and perspired under summer conditions for afortnight, took heart. Among these was Ned. Laurie, who at first had hadto alternate sympathy and severity in order to keep his brother'scourage to the sticking-point, now found that his encouragement was nolonger needed. Ned was quite as much in earnest as any fellow who worecanvas. Probably he was not destined ever to become a mighty player, forhe seemed to lack that quality which coaches, unable to describe, callfootball instinct. But he had made progress--surprising progress when itis considered that he had known virtually nothing of the game two weeksbefore.

  Laurie, whose afternoons were still absorbed by baseball, viewed Ned'sefforts as something of a joke, much to the latter's chagrin, andcontinued to do so until a chance conversation with Thurman Kendrickopened his eyes. Hop had come across one forenoon to borrow some notesand had tarried a moment to talk. In those days, when Hop talked hetalked of just one subject, and that subject was football, and heintroduced it to-day.

  "We've got to do better to-morrow than we did last week," he saidearnestly, "or we'll get licked hard. Cole's was fairly easy, butHighland is a tough customer. Our trouble so far has been slowness, andHighland's as fast as they make them. Somehow, Mulford doesn't seem ableto get any pep into our bunch. The line isn't so bad, but the backfield's like cold glue."

  "That's up to the quarter, isn't it?" asked Laurie, anxious to provehimself not absolutely ignorant of the subject.

  "Yes, partly; but it's up to the coach first. If the backs aren't usedto working fast, the quarter can't make them. Frank Brattle's a goodquarter, Nod. I sort of wish he wasn't so good!"

  "Meaning you'd have a better chance of swiping his job?" smiled Laurie.

  "Oh, I'll never do that; but if he wasn't so good I'd get in more often.The best I can hope for this year is to get in for maybe a full periodin the Farview game. Anyway, I'll get my letter, and maybe next yearI'll land in the position. Frank's a senior, you know."

  "Is he? I haven't seen much practice so far. Baseball keeps me prettybusy."

  "How are you getting on?"

  "Slow, I'm afraid. Anyway, you could easily tell Babe Ruth and meapart!"

  "I guess you're doing better than you let on," said Hop. "If you're asgood at baseball as your brother is at football, you'll do."

  "I guess I am," laughed Laurie; "just about!"

  "Well, Nid is surely coming fast," replied Hop, gravely. "He's beendoing some nice work the last few days."

  Laurie stared. "Say, what are you doing, Hop? Stringing me?" hedemanded.

  "Stringing you?" Hop looked puzzled. "Why, no. How do you mean?"

  "About Ned. Do you mean that he's really playing football?"

  "Why, of course I do. Didn't you know it?"

  Laurie shook his head. "He's been telling me a lot of stuff, but Ithought he was just talking, the way I've been, to sort of keep hiscourage up."

  "Nonsense! Nid's doing mighty well. I don't know how much experiencehe's had; some ways he acts sort of green; but he's got Mason worried, Iguess. If he had another fifteen pounds he'd make the team sure. As itis, I wouldn't be surprised to see him play a whole lot this fall. Yousee, he's a pretty good punter, Nod, and yesterday he blossomed out as adrop-kicker, too. Landed the ball over from about the thirty yards andfrom a hard angle. Mason doesn't do any kicking, and it's no bad thingto have a fellow in the back field who can help Pope out in a pinch.It's his kicking ability that'll get him on if anything does."

  "I see," said Laurie, thoughtfully. "Well, I'm mighty glad. To tell thetruth, Hop, Ned hasn't had an awful lot of experience. He's had to bluffa good deal."

  "I suspected something of the sort from seeing him work the first weekor so. And then Kewpie said something that sort of lined up with theidea. Well, he's working hard and he's making good. Much obliged forthese, Nod. I'll fetch them back in ten minutes."

  When Kendrick had taken his departure Laurie stared thoughtfully for aminute into space. Finally he shook his head and smiled. "Good old Ned!"he murmured. "I'm sorry I ragged him so. Gee, I'll have to buckle downto my own job or he'll leave me at the post!"

  After practice that afternoon, Laurie and Lee picked up George and BobStarling at the tennis-courts, and, after changing into "cits," wentaround to the doctor's porch and joined a dozen other lads who wereengaged in drinking Miss Tabitha's weak tea and eating hersoul-satisfying layer-cake. After a half-hour of batting and fieldingpractice and a five-inning game between the first team and the scrubs,Laurie was in a most receptive mood as far as refreshments wereconcerned. Miss Tabitha made an ideal hostess, for she left conversationto the guests and occupied herself in seeing that cups and plates werekept filled. No one had yet discovered the number of helpings of cakethat constituted Miss Tabitha's limit of hospitality, and there was astory of a junior so depressed by homesickness that he hadabsent-mindedly consumed six wedges of it and was being urged to aseventh when some inner voice uttered a saving warning. In spite of veryhealthy appetites, none of the quartette sought to compete with thatrecord, but Laurie and George did allow themselves to be persuaded tothird helpings, declining most politely until they feared to decline anymore. Before they had finished, the doctor joined the group and madehimself very agreeable, telling several funny stories that set every onelaughing and caused a small junior--it was the cherub-faced youth whosat at Laurie's table in the dining-hall and whose career thus far hadproved anything but that of a cherub--to swallow a mouthful of mochacake the wrong way, with disastrous results. During the ensuingconfusion the quartette took their departure. At the gate Bob Starlingsaid:

  "By the way, fellows, I spoke to Dad about that tennis-court, and he'swritten to the agent for permission. He says there won't be any trouble;and if there is, he'll agree to put the garden back the way we found itand erect a new arbor."

  "What will it be?" asked George. "Sod or gravel?"

  "Oh, gravel. You couldn't get a sod court in shape under a year, and Iwant to use it this fall. I'm going to look around to-morrow for someone to do the job. Know who does that sort of work here--Lee?"

  "No, but I suppose you get a contractor; one of those fellows who buildroads and stone walls and things."

  "I'd ask at the court-house," said Laurie.

  "At the court--oh, that's a punk one!" jeered Bob. "See you later,fellows!"

  The game with Highland Academy was played across the river at Lookout,and most of the fellows went. In spite of Hop Kendrick's pessimisticprophecy, Hillman's took command of the situation in the first quarterand held it undisturbed to the final whistle. The contest was, if notextremely fast, well played by both teams, and the hosts refused toacknowledge defeat until the end. Captain Stevenson, at left tackle, wasthe bright, particular star of the day, with the redoubtable Pope a goodsecond.

  It was Joe Stevenson's capture of a fumbled ball in the first fiveminutes of play and his amazing run through the enemy ranks thatproduced the initial score. Pope kicked an easy goal after Slavin, righthalf, had plunged through for a touch-down. Later in the game, Pope hadadded three more points by a place-kick from the forty-two yards.Highland twice reached the Blue's ten-yard line, the first time losingthe ball on downs, and the next attempting a forward pass that wentastray. Her one opportunity to score by a kick was wrecked by no otherthan Kewpie, who, having substituted Holmes at the beginning of thesecond half, somehow shot his hundred and seventy pounds through thedefense and met the pigskin with his nose. Kewpie presented adisreputable appearance for several days, but was given due honor.Hillman's returned across the Hudson in the twilight of early Octoberwith exultant cheers and songs.

  Ned watched that game from the substitutes' bench, just as he hadwatched the two preceding contests, but a newly awakened _esprit decorps_ forbade complaining. When Laurie sympathetically observed that hethought it was time Mulford gave Ned a chance in a real game, Nedresponded with dignity, almost wit
h severity, that he guessed the coachknew his business.

  The first of the month--or, to be exact, the fourth--brought the twinstheir monthly allowances, and one of the first things Laurie did was togo to the little blue shop on Pine Street and pay his bill, which hadreached its prescribed limit several days before. Ned went, too,although he didn't display much enthusiasm over the mission. Ned heldthat, having created a bill, it was all wrong deliberately to destroyit. To his mind, a bill was something to cherish and preserve. Laurie,however, pointed out that, since one was prohibited from furthertransactions at the Widow's, even on a cash basis, as long as one owedmoney there, it would be wise to cancel the debts. Ned recognized thewisdom of the statement and reluctantly parted with ninety-seven cents.

  Since it was only a little after two o'clock, the shop was empty whenthe twins entered, and Polly and her mother were just finishing theirlunch in the back room. It was Polly who answered the tinkle of the belland who, after some frowning and turning of pages in the account-book,canceled the indebtedness.

  "Now," said Ned, "I guess I'll have a cream-cake. Want one, Laurie?"

  Laurie did, in spite of the fact that it was less than an hour sincedinner. Mrs. Deane appeared at the door, observed the proceeding, andsmiled.

  "I'm real glad to see you're still alive," she said to Ned. "I guess hemust take very good care of you."

  "Yes'm, I do," Laurie assured her gravely.

  Ned laughed scornfully, or as scornfully as it was possible to laughwith his mouth full. "You shouldn't believe everything he tells you,Mrs. Deane. I have to look after him like a baby. Why, he wouldn't getdown in time for breakfast if I didn't put most of his clothes on."

  "That's no joke, either," retorted Laurie, "about you putting my clotheson. You're wearing one of my collars and my best socks right now,and--yes, sir, that's my blue tie!"

  "Wait a bit, partner! Where'd you get that shirt you're wearing?"

  "That's different," answered Laurie, with dignity. "Mine are all in thewash. Besides, it's an old one and you never wear it."

  "I never get a chance to wear it!"

  "It must be very convenient for you," said Mrs. Deane, smilingly, "to beable to wear each other's things. Polly, I guess there won't be any oneelse in for a while; maybe they'd like to see your garden."

  Being assured that they would, Polly led the way through the back room,a pleasant, sunny apartment evidently combining the duties of kitchenand dining-room, and out to a little back porch shaded bymorning-glories and nasturtiums that fairly ran riot over the greenlattice. There was a braided rug on the floor and a small rocker and atiny table on which were books and a magazine or two. The books wereevidently Polly's school books, for they were held together by a strap.

  The twins liked that garden. It wasn't very large, for when the peculiarMr. Coventry had divided the estate he had placed the high board fencevery close to the little frame dwelling; but perhaps its very smallnessmade it seem more attractive. Narrow beds encompassed it on three sides,and a gravel walk followed the beds. In the tiny square inside, a smallrustic arbor, covered with climbing rose-vines, held a seat that, as waspresently proved, accommodated three very comfortably.

  But before they were allowed to sit down the boys had to be shown manythings: the hollyhocks against the back fence, the flowering almond thathad been brought all the way from the old home in New Jersey,--and hadnever quite made up its mind whether to die of homesickness or go onliving,--the bed of lilies-of-the-valley that just _wouldn't_ keep outof the path and many other floral treasures. Nasturtiums andmorning-glories and scarlet sage and crinkly-edged white and lavenderpetunias were still blossoming gaily, and there was even a cluster ofwhite roses on the arbor, for, so far, no frost had come. The twinsadmired properly and Polly was all smiles, until suddenly she said,"O-oh!" and faced them reproachfully.

  "You've just let me go on and be perfectly ridiculous!" she charged. "Idon't think it's a bit nice of you!"

  "Why, what--how do you mean?" stammered Ned.

  "You have the most wonderful flowers in the world in California, and youknow it!" she replied severely; "and you've let me show you these poorlittle things as if--as if they were anything at all in comparison! Iforgot you came from California."

  "Maybe we didn't tell you," offered Laurie. "Anyway, your flowers--"

  "In California they have hedges of geraniums and roses climb right overthe houses, and orange-trees and palms and everything," interruptedPolly, breathlessly. "Why, this garden must seem perfectly--perfectly_awful_ to you!"

  "Don't you believe it!" denied Ned. "Flowers and things do grow bigger,I suppose, out our way; but they aren't a bit prettier, are they,Laurie?"

  "Not so pretty," answered the other, earnestly. "Besides, _I_ never sawa geranium hedge in my life. Maybe they have them in some places, likePasadena, but there isn't _one_ in Santa Lucia, honest. There isn't, isthere, Ned?"

  "_I_ never saw one. And palms aren't awfully pretty. They get sort ofscraggly-looking sometimes. Honest, Polly, I never saw a garden anyprettier and cuter than this is. Of course, some are bigger and--andmore magnificent--"

  "Who wants a magnificent garden?" demanded Laurie, scornfully. "Whathave you got in the box, Polly?"

  Comforted, Polly smiled again. "That's Antoinette," she said. "Come andsee."

  Antoinette lived in a wooden box in the shelter of the porch, and hadlong ears and very blue eyes and a nose that twitched funnily when theyapproached. In short, Antoinette was a fluffy smoke-gray rabbit. "Shehas a dreadfully long pedigree," said Polly, as she took Antoinette outand snuggled her in her arms.

  "Has she?" murmured Laurie. "I thought it looked rather short."

  "A pedigree isn't a _tail_, you idiot," said Ned, scathingly. "She'sawfully pretty, Polly. Will she bite?"

  "Of course not! At least, not unless you look like a cabbage-leaf."

  "I wouldn't take a chance," Laurie advised. "Any one who's as green asyou are--"

  "She _tries_ to eat 'most everything," said Polly, "but she likescabbage and lettuce and carrots best."

  "I wish I had a cabbage," muttered Laurie, searching his pockets; "or acarrot. You haven't a carrot with you, have you, Ned?"

  "You're the silliest boys!" laughed Polly, returning Antoinette to herbox. "Let's go and sit down a minute." And when they were on the seatunder the arbor and she had smoothed her skirt and tucked a pair ofrather soiled white canvas shoes from sight, she announced, "There! Nowyou can make up a verse about something!"