Five Little Peppers at School Part 37

"Well, he's so big and long," grumbled Van, who didn't fancy anybody coming between him and Polly.

"I might cut off a piece of my legs," said Tom, "to oblige you, I suppose. They are rather lengthy, and that's a fact," regarding them as they stretched out in the firelight. "I'll curl 'em up in a twist like a Turk," which he did.

"Well, now," said Jasper, "we are ready. So fire ahead, Beresford."

Joel, who all this time had been regarding his friend curiously, having never heard him tell a story at Dr. Marks' school, couldn't keep his eyes from him, but regarded him with a fixed stare, which Tom was careful to avoid, by looking steadily into the fire.

"Well, now, I'm not fine at expressing myself," he began.

"I should think not," put in Joel uncomplimentarily.

"Joe, you beggar, hush up!" said Jasper, with a warning pinch.

"Yes, just sit on that individual, will you, Jasper?" said Tom, over his shoulder, "or I never will even begin."

So, Jasper promising to quench all further disturbance on Joel's part, the story was taken up.

"I can only tell a plain, unvarnished tale," said Tom, "but it's one that ought to be told, and in this very spot. Perhaps you don't any of you know, that in Dr. Marks' school it's awfully hard to be good."

"Is it any harder than in any other school, Tom?" asked Mrs. Fisher quietly.

Tom turned, to reply: "I don't know, Mrs. Fisher, because I haven't been at any other school. But I can't imagine a place where everything is made so hard for a boy. To begin with, there is old Fox."

"Oh Tom!" exclaimed Phronsie, leaning forward, whereat old Mr. King laid a warning hand upon the well arm. "There, there, Phronsie; sit back, child;" so she obeyed. "But, Grandpapa, he said there was an old fox at Joey's school," she declared, dreadfully excited, and lifting her face to his.

"Well, and so she is, Phronsie," declared Tom, whirling his long body suddenly around, thereby receiving a dig in the back from Van, who considered him intruding on his s.p.a.ce, "a fox by name, and a fox by nature; but we'll call her, for convenience, a person."

"She's the matron," said Percy, feeling called upon to explain.

"Oh!" said Phronsie, drawing a long breath, "but I thought Tom said she was a fox, Grandpapa."

"That's her name," said Tom, nodding at her; "Jemima Fox--isn't that a sweet name, Phronsie?"

"I don't think it is a _very_ sweet one, Tom," said Phronsie, feeling quite badly to be obliged to say so.

"I agree with you," said Tom, while the others all laughed. "Well, Phronsie, she's just as far from being nice as her name is."

"Oh dear me!" exclaimed Phronsie, looking quite grieved.

"But I have something nice to tell you," said Tom quickly, "so I'll hurry on, and let the other personages at Dr. Marks' slide. Well,--but I want you all to understand, though"--and he wrinkled up his brows,--"that when a fellow does real, bang-up, fine things at that school, it means something. You will, won't you?" He included them all now in a sweeping glance, letting his blue eyes rest the longest on Mrs.

Fisher's face; while Phronsie broke in, "What's bang-up, Grandpapa?"

"You must ask Tom," replied Grandpapa, with a little laugh.

"Oh, that's just schoolboy lingo," Tom made haste to say, as his face got red.

"What's lingo?" asked Phronsie, more puzzled than before.

"That's--that's--oh, dear!" Tom's face rivalled the firelight by this time, for color.

"Phronsie, I wouldn't ask any more questions now," said Polly gently.

"Boys say so many things; and it isn't necessary to know now. Let's listen to the story."

"I will," said Phronsie, feeling quite relieved that it wasn't really inc.u.mbent on her to ask for explanations. So she sat back quietly in her big chair, while Tom shot Polly a grateful look.

"Well, there are lots of chaps at our school," went on Tom--"I suppose there are at all schools, but at any rate we have them in a big quant.i.ty,--who are mad when they see the other boys get on."

"Oh, Tom!" exclaimed Polly.

"Yes, they are--mad clear through," declared Tom positively. "And it's princ.i.p.ally in athletics." Phronsie made a little movement at this word, but, remembering that she was not to ask questions, for Polly had said so, she became quiet again.

"They simply can't bear that a boy gets ahead of 'em; it just knocks 'em all up." Tom was rus.h.i.+ng on, with head thrown back and gazing into the fire.

"Tom," said Joel, bounding up suddenly to take his head out of Polly's lap, and to sit quite straight, "I wouldn't run on like this if I were you."

"You hush up, Pepper," said Tom coolly. "I haven't said a word about you. I shall say what I like. I tell you, it does just knock 'em all up.

I know, for I've been that way myself."

This was getting on such dangerous ground, that Joel opened his mouth to remonstrate, but Polly put her hand over it. "I'd let Tom tell his story just as he wants to," which had the effect of smothering Joel's speech for the time being.

"I thought, Jasper, you were going to quench Joe," observed Tom, who seemed to have the power to see out of the back of his head, and now was conscious of the disturbance. "You don't seem to be much good."

"Oh, Polly's doing it this time," said Jasper; "I'll take him in tow on the next offence."

"Yes, I have," declared Tom, "been that way myself. I'm going to tell you how, and then I'll feel better about it." His ruddy face turned quite pale now, and his eyes shone.

"Stop him," howled Joel, all restraint thrown to the winds, and shaking off Polly's fingers.

Jasper leaned forward. "I'm bound to make you keep the peace, Joe," he said, shaking his arm.

"But he's going to tell about things he ought not to," cried Joel, in an agony. "Do stop him, Jasper."

Mother Fisher leaned forward, and fastened her black eyes on Joel's face. "I think Tom better go on, Joel," she said. "I want to hear it."

That settled the matter; and Joel threw himself down, his face buried in Polly's lap, while he stuck his fingers in his ears.

"I'm going to tell you all this story," Tom was saying, "because I ought to. You won't like me very well after it, but it's got to come out.

Well, I might as well mention names now, since Joe has got to keep still. You can't guess how he's been tormented by some of those cads, simply because he's our best tennis player, and on the football team.

They've made things hum for him!" Tom threw back his head, and clenched his fist where it lay in his lap. "And the rest of us boys got mad, especially at one of them. He was the ringleader, and the biggest cad and bully of them all."

No one said a word.

"I hate to mention names; it seems awfully mean." Tom's face got fiery red again. "And yet, as you all know, why, it can't be helped.

Jenkins--well there, a fellow would want to be excused from speaking to him. And yet"--down fell Tom's head shamefacedly--"I let him show me how he was going to play a dastardly trick on Joe, the very day of the tennis tournament. I did, that's a fact."

No one spoke; but Tom could feel what might have been said had the thoughts all been expressed, and he burst out desperately, "I let that cad take Joe's racket."

A general rustle, as if some speech were coming, made him forestall it by plunging on, "His beautiful racket he'd been practising with for this tournament; and I not only didn't knock the scoundrel down, but I helped the thing along. I wouldn't have supposed I could do it. Joe was to play with Ricketson against Green and me; and two minutes after it was done, I'd have given everything to have had it back on Joe's table. But the boys were pouring up, and it was hidden."