The High School Freshmen Part 39

"the average age of the freshman cla.s.s is about fourteen or fifteen.

The seniors are only three years older Pooh! Who's afraid?"

"I am," broke in Ben Badger, coming up behind them. "Desperately afraid."

"You? Of what?" asked Laura, turning around upon him.

"Afraid that I'm too late to write my autograph on your dance card," admitted Ben, with a rueful smile.

"But you're a senior," murmured Laura.

"Is that a crime?" demanded Ben, in a tone of wonder.

"Why, we were planning," put in Belle, "that the freshmen boys and freshmen girls should dance together this evening."

"I see a ray of hope," protested Ben. "I'm going to college, so I shall be a freshman again next year. Isn't that enough to ent.i.tle me to one---square---dance, anyway?"

Without waiting for another reply, Ben caught up Laura's card, and looked it over.

"May I have number nine, please?" he begged.

"Yes, thank you," Laura answered, so Badger scribbled his name.

"My hopes are rising," cried Frank Thompson, gliding into the group.

Thereupon other seniors and juniors came up. It wasn't long before d.i.c.k & Co. had to bestir themselves in order to be sure of having dances enough with the girls of their own cla.s.s.

"You can retaliate, you know, by going after some of the girls of the two upper cla.s.ses," suggested Laura.

"I don't believe I'll try that," d.i.c.k replied. "It's all right for the upper cla.s.s boys to want to dance with some of the freshman girls, especially when the freshman girls are such a charming lot-----"

"Our thanks!" And six girls bowed low before him.

"But it would be regarded, I'm afraid, as rank impudence, if we little freshmen wanted to dance with senior or junior girls.

When a freshman is in doubt the tip is 'don't!'"

The orchestra was playing a lively waltz that made most of the girls and many of the boys tap their feet restlessly.

The perfume of flowers was in the air. Lively chatter and merry laughter rang out.

"This is the brighter side of school life," murmured d.i.c.k, enthusiastically.

"One of the brighter sides," suggested Laura. "Your remark, as you made it, sounds ungrateful. It is a delight to be a High School student. There are no really dark sides to the life."

"But some sides are much brighter than others," d.i.c.k insisted.

"I like study, and am glad I have a chance to go further in it than most young people get. Yet these cla.s.s dances give us something that algebra, or chemistry, or geometry can't supply us."

"This is the brightest spot of the year," put in Tom Reade, in a low voice. "It must be the brightness of the girls' eyes that fill this part of the room with so much radiance."

"Bravo!" laughed Laura and Belle together.

"Have you been quiet the last fifteen minutes on purpose to think that up?" Dave asked enviously.

"Tom can say lots of nicer things than that," spoke up Bessie Trenholm, half shyly.

"Oh, can he?" demanded Harry Hazelton. "Please search your memory then, Bessie. Let's have a few specimens of what Tom can say under the influence of luminous eyes."

Bessie blushed. When she tried to speak she stammered.

"I---I guess I can't remember anything," she pleaded.

Freshman laughter rang out merrily at this. But the waltz had ended, and now the prompter was calling for the grand march.

"Let's find our places," urged Dan Dalzell.

"We're on the side, so we might as well remain right where we are," proposed d.i.c.k. "That is, unless the floor manager or some aide comes along and chases us to the rear of the procession."

But no one interfered with the freshmen taking their places in the line just where they stood.

As the grand march ended the orchestra drew breath once or twice, then burst forth in a gallop. d.i.c.k offered Laura his guidance, and away they flew together. By the time the gallop ended the freshman couples were rather well scattered over the hall.

d.i.c.k danced well. He enjoyed himself immensely. So did his partners.

Some of the freshman girls finally drifted off with upper cla.s.s partners.

Toward midnight, d.i.c.k, alone, drifted to Dave Darrin and Harry Hazelton.

"I haven't a thing to do, now, for four dances, unless some senior drops dead," d.i.c.k remarked.

"I'm in as bad a plight," admitted Harry.

"And I," nodded Dave.

It wasn't many moments ere the other three partners happened along, all disengaged.

"We don't want to be wall-flowers," muttered d.i.c.k. "It's going to be more than half an hour from now before any of us are due to dance again. See here, fellows, what do you say to our getting our hats and coats and getting out into the air for a while?

A ballroom, isn't the worst place in the world, but I'm so much a fresh air fellow, that I'm half stifling here."

"Good! Come along to the coatroom, then," nodded Greg Holmes.

"Going home?" asked Laura Bentley, in a tone of protest, as she whirled by on Thompson's arm and saw d.i.c.k & Co. headed for the coatroom.

She was gone before d.i.c.k could answer by word of mouth. But he saw her regarding him from the other end of the room, and smilingly shook his head.

"Feels good to be out, doesn't it?" asked Dan Dalzell, as the freshman s.e.xtette struck the open air.

"Yes; but what has happened to the blooming town?" demanded Greg Holmes.

Even this Main Street of Gridley presented a curious look. It was a freezingly cold December night and it looked to the freshman as though the senior ball must be the only live thing left in the little city.

All the stores were closed, and had been for some time. All lights were out in the nearest residences. At first the boys thought they beheld held a policeman standing in front of the First National Bank, half a block away, but a closer look revealed the fact that he was only some belated loiterer---the sole human being in sight save themselves.