The Lucky Seventh

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER XIV

  A VISIT TO THE INVALID

  Gordon found Morris not only able but eager to see him. Louise conductedhim upstairs to a big square bedroom in the middle of which, between twobay windows, Morris' bed looked small and lonesome. There was a table bythe bed, and on it was a great vase of pink roses, and some magazines,books, and glasses. A rocking-chair near the table with a magazinespread open in it suggested that someone, probably Louise, had beenreading to the invalid.

  Morris lay flat on his back, with only the wispiest little pillow underhis head. Gordon was shocked to see how pale and drawn he looked as hewaved a hand at the visitor's entrance and called quite cheerfullyacross the room: "Hello, Gordon! Gee, but I'm glad to see you!"

  Gordon took the chair beside the bed and asked Morris how he felt.

  "Oh, pretty good, thanks! My leg's done up in a ton of plaster, I guess,and it hurts a good deal. But the doctor's tickled to death with it, andso I suppose I've got to be satisfied too. How are you? I thought youwere never coming to see a fellow."

  "I've been wanting to come ever since--it happened," answered Gordon;"but at first they said I mustn't see you, and then, yesterday, therewas the game at Lesterville----"

  "It must have been a peach of a game, even if you fellows did getbeaten." Morris paused abruptly and lowered his eyes. "Say, Gordon, Iguess you know I'm--I'm awfully grateful----"

  "Now, look here," interrupted Gordon sternly, "don't you start that too!I've had a lot of it from your mother and Louise and Mr. Brent, and ifyou begin I'll beat it out of here!"

  "All right," laughed Morris, "only--well, thanks, Gordon!" A twinge ofpain brought a momentary scowl to his face. "I was mighty glad youdidn't get banged up too. It was a wonder you didn't."

  "Oh, I'm like a cat; I light on my feet. What happened, anyhow?"

  "I don't know--quite. The first thing I knew the wheel spun aroundalmost out of my hands and we were smashing against that fence. Isuppose there was something in the road I didn't see. I made a grab forthe emergency brake and tried to set it. Then I got a leg over the sideof the car and--and that's all I remember. How badly is the car smashed,Gordon?"

  "The right front wheel has most of the spokes out of it, and the axle isbent on that side. And there are some dents in the running board andradiator and one lamp's done for. I don't believe, though, it will costyou much to get it fixed up again almost as good as new. I supposeyou'll have to get rid of it, though, won't you?"

  Morris grinned. "Rather! And I'll have to pay for it, too!"

  "Your father says----"

  "I know; but Stacey has my note for the rest of the money, and I don'tpropose to be a squealer, Gordon. I'll get the money somehow. If dadwon't give it to me, maybe my mother will. I'll get it somewhere. I'mnot going to have Stacey telling it around that I don't keep my word orpay my debts. I wish I'd let the blamed thing alone; but I didn't, andso there's no use talking about that now."

  "What--what are you going to do with it?" asked Gordon.

  "Get Stacey to sell it for me, I guess. I haven't talked to dad about ityet. He only got home from New York yesterday. I suppose he will be madwhen I tell him I want to pay the rest of the money."

  "I ought to see him, too," said Gordon uneasily, "and tell him what Mr.Stacey said. Is--is he at home to-day?"

  "Yes, but you'd better wait a while. He always takes a nap Sundayafternoons. I guess I'll let you tell him about Stacey before I tacklehim."

  "How much would you sell the car for?" asked Gordon presently.

  "Anything I could get, I guess. Of course, it's never been used but aweek; the speedometer shows only two hundred and eighty miles, I think;but I suppose it's just as much second-hand as if it had been run awhole year. I should think Stacey might get three hundred for it,though."

  Gordon looked disappointed. "Oh!" he murmured. "Well, I suppose it isworth all of that. Only, I was thinking----"

  "What?" asked Morris.

  "It--it sounds sort of cheeky," replied Gordon, after a moment'shesitation, "and you might not think much of the idea, but what I--whatwe were considering is this, Morris." He drew the chair closer to thebed, with a glance at the half-open door, and lowered his voice.

  An hour or so later Gordon left Brentwood well satisfied. Mr. Brent hadonly smiled at Mr. Stacey's ultimatum, thanked Gordon for the trouble hehad taken, and approved of the rescue and temporary disposal of theautomobile. "We'll let it stay where it is for the present," he said,"and I'll have a talk with Morris about it some day. If Stacey doesn'twant to take it back, I guess we can get the junkman to haul it away."

  "I think Morris has a--a scheme, sir, that would be pretty fine,"returned Gordon. "That is, if--if you were willing."

  "A scheme? What sort of a scheme, Merrick?"

  "I'd rather he told you about it, sir."

  "Humph! I don't think much of Morris' schemes as a rule," replied Mr.Brent grimly. "However, I'll hear what he has to say."

  On Tuesday placards in the shop windows made the following announcement:

  BASEBALL! Clearfield vs. Rutter's Point, HIGH SCHOOL FIELD, Saturday at 3 P. M. Admission: 25 Cents.

  Also on that morning the Clearfield _Reporter_ obligingly called thepublic's attention to the game and predicted a close and excitingcontest. The notice in the newspaper cost the club nothing, but theprinted announcements took just a dollar and sixty-five cents from theexchequer, and caused Fudge, whose portion of the expense amounted toeighteen and one-third cents, a deal of gloom.

  "Nobody's going to pay real money to see a lot of kids play ball," saidFudge. "So what's the good of spending all that on notices? Gee, wecould have bought a new ball with that money!"

  One or two others thought as Fudge did, but most of the team wereoptimistic, and Tim Turner was created ticket seller and gateman, andwas to receive fifty cents for his services. Fudge declared that if Timsold enough admissions to pay himself his wages he'd be "m-m-m-mightylucky!" But as events proved Fudge was unnecessarily pessimistic.

  Meanwhile, on Monday, Jack Tappen had fulfilled his agreement to find asubstitute, and Danny Shores was duly "signed up" for Saturday's gamewith the Point. Danny, who proved to be a long and lanky youth ofsixteen or seventeen years, showed up for practice on Wednesday and madea good impression in right field and at the bat. Unfortunately,Wednesday was the only day he could get off, and, as Jack assured Dick,it took a lot of wire-pulling to secure that concession from Danny'sboss at the plating works. However, Danny played ball more or less everylunch-hour behind the factory, and so was by no means out of practice.Jack's demeanor was amusing that week. He tried to look chastened andsad, but it was easy to see that he took it as a personal compliment,that suspension, and was vastly proud of it. Jack appeared to reasonthat if he hadn't been an extraordinarily valuable member of the teamDick would not have taken the trouble to discipline him! Jack was asbusy as a hive of bees, and was so generous with advice that Dick andGordon found him something of a nuisance.

  "I wish he was playing ball instead of sitting on the bench," confidedGordon, in comic despair. "Next time, Dick, throw him in the river, butdon't suspend him. He's as pleased as Punch with himself!"

  Of course, the others tried their best to have their fun with Jack, butthe attempt was not very successful. Jack seemed to consider that asignal honor had been done him, and, while he professed to be chagrinedand ashamed of his position, he was secretly well contented and wasenjoying it all greatly. As Dick said, one could have stood that wellenough if Jack hadn't tried to run the team!

  But Jack Tappen was not the only cross that Dick had to bear just then.As a tutor Dick was having his troubles, too. Harold Townsend had atlast, to use Caspar Billings' expression, "laid down in the shafts." Notonly that, but he was "kicking over the traces" as well. Dick was prettynearly at his wits' end. The pupil's first slight awe of his teacher hadsoon worn off, and n
ow he was frankly mutinous. He no longer madepretense of studying the lessons Dick laid out for him, only grinnedexasperatingly when taken to task, and, in short, openly defiedauthority. Dick worried for two reasons: In the first place, he dislikedto be beaten. In the second place, he felt that he had no right to takemoney from Harold's mother when he was not earning it. And he wanted themoney and needed it. Harold apparently realized that any appeal to hismother by Dick would be useless. And Dick was pretty certain of as muchhimself. Nevertheless, on Thursday of that week he decided that the timehad come for an understanding. Loring, Harold's older brother, hadthreatened all sorts of dire punishment if that youth didn't behave, butthe threats had not impressed Harold much. Perhaps he knew that Loringwouldn't carry them out. On Thursday the lesson had been the merestfarce, and Harold's behavior had for once almost caused Dick to losecommand of a usually well-governed temper. At last:

  "I shall have to talk to your mother, Harold," he said. "This kind ofthing can't go on. You're wasting your time and mine----"

  "Aw, you get paid, don't you?" asked Harold, with a scowl.

  "I get paid for teaching, not for loafing," responded Dick sharply. "Ishall want to see you when I come back. So don't go off, please."

  "I shall if I want to. You don't own me, Lovering. Besides, study time'sup, anyway."

  Dick, disdaining to answer, set off to find Mrs. Townsend. Theconference took place on a corner of the hotel veranda. Mrs. Townsendwas a sweet-voiced, pretty woman, with a tired air. At first she seemedto resent Dick's charge against her boy. Then she grew pathetic, andbewailed the fact of her husband's death.

  "If he had lived," she sighed, "Harold would have been a different boy.I've never been able to do anything with him. He needs a stronger hand,I fear. Perhaps--that is, possibly--er--it would have been better tohave found someone--someone a little older to take him in hand. Ofcourse, I don't mean to suggest that you haven't done excellently, Mr.Lovering, for I'm quite sure you have; but, of course, as you are solittle older than Harold, he may feel--er--you see what I mean, don'tyou?"

  "Yes'm, but I don't think that's the trouble. Harold doesn't want tostudy, doesn't seem to see the necessity of learning and won't. If I hadfull authority over him----"

  "Oh, but you have! I thought that was understood."

  "Oh, for two hours, perhaps, Mrs. Townsend; but what I mean is that ifI--well, if you'd just back me up, I'm sure I could accomplishsomething."

  "Please explain. I don't think I understand."

  "Why, it's like this," replied Dick desperately: "He knows now that ifhe doesn't want to learn his lessons he doesn't have to. So he doesn'tdo any work. If--if you'd make him understand that he _does_ have to,Mrs. Townsend, that if he doesn't he will be--punished----"

  "Oh, but I've never punished Harold!" she protested. "I don't believe inpunishment; that is, other than verbal. A high-spirited boy such as heis--er----"

  "Yes'm, I know, but you want him to go to Rifle Point, and he will neverget there if he doesn't take some interest in his lessons and do somework. See here, please." Dick had provided himself with a Rifle PointSchool catalogue, and now he went over for Mrs. Townsend's benefit thelist of studies required for entrance. Mrs. Townsend listened with apuzzled, tired frown on her pretty forehead.

  "And you think he isn't far enough advanced, Mr. Lovering, to enter thisFall?"

  "He isn't advanced at all!" blurted Dick. "What he has learned he hasforgotten. He--he's two years behind those requirements, Mrs. Townsend."

  "Dear me! And I had hoped----" She sighed tremulously. "What do youadvise?"

  "I advise you to make Harold understand that he's got to do what I tellhim to, and that if he doesn't he will be punished."

  "But I never could punish him!"

  "No'm, I'm sure of that," agreed Dick. "You let me do it."

  "You?" she faltered. "Could you--that is----"

  "I don't mean whip him, Mrs. Townsend, or anything like that. I'll finda way that will answer quite as well."

  "Could you really? But how?"

  "I don't know just yet," Dick owned. "But I'll find a way. Really, Mrs.Townsend, you'll have to do something of that sort. Harold's justwasting his time and mine. And I can't take your money when I'm notearning it."

  "Oh, but I'm sure you are! Even if--if Harold doesn't get on very fast,it is a great relief to me to know that for two hours a day at least heis in good care and not--not running around with those horrid bell-boys.I'm sure that's worth every penny of the money!"

  "Not to me, ma'am. I mean I wouldn't be satisfied to go on with thingsas they are now. I wish you'd try my way, Mrs. Townsend. All I'd wantyou to do would be just to tell Harold that he is to do absolutely as Itell him to, and that there is no use in his appealing to you."

  "We--ell, if you're quite certain it won't break his spirit or--oranything like that," agreed Mrs. Townsend doubtfully. "I do want him toget on, Mr. Lovering. If only he had half the studiousness that Loringhas!"

  "He can study very well when he wants to," replied Dick dryly. "And I'mpretty sure I can make him want to if you will just stand back of me,Mrs. Townsend."

  "I will, really and truly," she said. "Thank you so much, Mr. Lovering.I--I'll speak to Harold this evening, and----"

  "Couldn't you speak to him now just as well, please?"

  "Now? Why, I suppose so. If you wish. Perhaps I'd better, and get itover with." Mrs. Townsend sighed deeply. "Will you send him to me, Mr.Lovering?"

  "Yes'm, if I can find him," answered Dick. "I'm afraid, though, he'sgone off somewhere. I'll look him up, Mrs. Townsend. Thank you very muchfor--for helping me."

  Harold was not in his room where Dick had left him, and inquiry aroundthe corridor of the hotel at first failed to elicit any information.Ultimately, however, Dick found a boy who had seen Harold walking downthe beach about a half hour before and Dick set off in the indicateddirection toward the distant point of rocks that jutted out into thesea.