david meadowcamp removed john’s clinging embrace, placed his suit case on the couch and sat down beside it, smiling jovially the while.
“eh?” he said.
he was a massive, large-boned, broad-faced man, two years john’s senior. outwardly he was good-natured, sleepy, awkward, with a shock of jet black hair that was forever falling over his forehead and giving him the unkempt look of one just out of bed, an appearance aided by his manner of attire. good-natured he was, and sleepy; his capacity for slumber seemed almost abnormal; his awkwardness was more apparent than real, for he had been a star left tackle on the ’varsity football team during his last two years in college. persons who judged him by his looks were usually mistaken in their estimate of the quantity and quality of his brains. despite his likeness to a good-humoured dullard, he possessed an assimilative ability that was phenomenal, and had secured his[19] degree in three years. he was now taking a post-graduate course. john declared it was because he was too lazy to pack his trunk and go home. it was generally understood that he was preparing himself to follow in the footsteps of his father, who was the president of a new york bank, and who, so rumour had it, was unable to count his millions without the aid of all his fingers and toes. david and john had been roommates from their freshman year, and in all that time had never had but one real quarrel; and even that, as john had pointed out aggrievedly after it was over, had been too one-sided to be interesting. for david had drowsed through most of it and had only consented to display real concern when john, goaded to madness by the other’s indifference, had thrown a pair of military brushes at him. thereupon david had arisen in his might and, depositing the struggling opponent on the bedroom floor, had drawn the mattress over him and gone to sleep on top.
david removed his clothing by easy stages while john told his troubles. his grin grew and broadened as the tale progressed. at the end he dropped the last of his attire, stretched his six feet of nakedness and disappeared into[20] the bathroom. john howled and beat upon the door.
“come out, you hard-hearted brute! come out and i’ll—i’ll lick you!”
there was no sound from beyond the locked portal but the rushing of water from the taps.
“coward!” taunted john.
“worm!”
“white-livered coyote!”
the taps were turned off and there followed an awesome splash. then it rained water for a moment beyond the door; afterward there was a steady churning sound as from the wheel of a sound steamer. john tried cajolery.
“davy! dear davy! booful davy!”
“go ’way,” yelled the bather.
“please don’t be angry, davy! tell me, davy, what shall i do?”
“go see him.”
“oh ... would you?”
“yep.”
“will you come along?”
there was a snort of derision from the bathroom.
“you might, you know, davy.”
“never!”
[21]
“but your presence would be so—so soothing and soporific, davy! won’t you?”
“no.”
“all right then, don’t, you big selfish brute!” he moved away from the door and his eyes fell on david’s clothing scattered generously over the study. picking up the coat he abstracted a bill-roll from a pocket and helped himself to a five-dollar note. then he hid the coat under the couch and went back to the bathroom door.
“little phillip may act naughty, davy, and so i’ve borrowed a fiver from you to buy him candy.”
“better get him a bottle,” gurgled david.
“farewell, davy. i’ll see you later. i’ve got tickets for the hollis. so don’t run away.”
on the street john found that the unseasonable heat had moderated somewhat. as he turned into boylston street a faint breeze, redolent of the marshes, blew into his face and caused him to tilt his hat away from his sunburned forehead. in front of the post-office he was hailed by an acquaintance, one broom, a member of the eleven.
“i hear you’re going to help coach this fall, north?”
“first i’ve heard of it,” answered john. “though[22] i found a note in my mail that rather bears out your statement, pete. but i don’t know whether i’ll have time for it.”
“rot, my boy, rot! it doesn’t require time; any old fool can coach a football team.”
“on the principle that it takes a fool to teach a fool, eh?”
“sure. where are you going? come on ’round to the drug store and drink cooling draughts.”
john groaned and shook his head.
“can’t, pete. i’m a foster-mother.”
“a what?”
“foster-mother. good-by!”
“you’re an idiot, you mean. come around to the hovel soon.”
“all right.”
john brought forth the fateful letter and made sure of the address he was seeking. at least, he thought, it had the merit of accessibility, for it was just around the corner. it proved to be an old-fashioned residence, two stories and a half in height, with a porch running across the front. it was painted a peculiarly depressing shade of gray, but for all that, and despite the fact that the front door opened almost from the sidewalk, it was homelike[23] and even attractive; and was plainly a house with a history. its dignity was somewhat marred by two placards in the front windows advertising “student rooms to let” and “table board.” it faced a little square of comforting trees, grass and shrubbery, and from the porch a bit of the river could be seen. an express wagon piled high with trunks stood at the curb. john ascended the steps and rang the bell. the front door was broad and substantial and was flanked by sidelights, while a dusty fanlight above hinted at the splendour of olden days.
“i wonder,” mused john, “just which revolutionary general made his headquarters here. i don’t see any tablet; very careless of the historical society.”
the maid who answered his ring thought that mr. ryerson was in because she had sent an expressman up with a trunk a few minutes before. the room, she directed, was the second-story-front on the left. john thanked her and started up the narrow staircase with its queer slim mahogany hand-rail. half-way up he became aware of quick, heavy tramping from the direction of the room he was seeking. he paused and listened. bang—bang![24] tramp—tramp! thud—thud! wonderingly he went on, turned and approached the door. from beyond came the unmistakable scuffling and tramping of bodies, the panting of persons apparently engaged in severe physical exertion, and through it all the plaintive whining of a dog. suddenly a chair crashed to the floor. the noise ceased.
“had enough?” asked a high, boyish voice.
“no! you?” answered a deeper one.
“come on then!”
the noise began again, while the dog, apparently in a bedroom or closet beyond, set up a dismal howl. john knocked loudly.
“keep out!” called a shrill voice somewhat breathlessly.
“is mr. ryerson in?”
“no.” then, in lower tones: “ah, would you! take that!”
“he is in,” reflected john, “and he’s having a boxing bout with some one and doesn’t want to be disturbed. but, the lord knows, if i don’t see him this time i’ll never have the courage to try again. and so——” he tried the door. it was unlocked and he pushed it open and entered. then he stood stock still and stared in surprise.
[25]
in the middle of the room, a large, oblong apartment traversed overhead by beams painted the same hue as the outside of the house, and lighted by three large windows in deep embrasures, stood two persons. each had discarded coat and vest, but was, nevertheless, bathed in perspiration. one whose irish features and soiled appearance proclaimed him the expressman, presented a sadly disfigured countenance. he was breathing with difficulty and from his nose crimson drops spattered onto the bosom of his dirty checked shirt. one eye was puffed and a short gash over the cheek bone bled freely. these disfigurations, with an ugly scowl, rendered him extremely unattractive. john’s gaze swept past him to the person beyond.
a tall, rather slim youth of nineteen confronted him. his eyes, which at the moment were wide open with surprise and annoyance, and his hair, worn somewhat long about the ears and at the back of the neck, were darkly brown. his face was oval, lean, with cheek bones well in sight; the complexion was rather sallow, but now the cheeks were disked with red. the nose was straight, the mouth full-lipped, the general expression of the face fearless, ardent and a trifle arrogant. the carriage was[26] erect and easy and the width of hip and thigh told of long acquaintance with the saddle. so far he appeared to have escaped punishment.
“that,” quoth john to himself, “is little phil.”
“well, sir?” the slim youth dropped his hands from their belligerent attitude and faced john, issuing the challenge with ill-concealed annoyance.
“you’re mr. phillip ryerson, i fancy?” said john.
“yes, sir; what then?”
“why, i must apologize for interrupting you. my name——”
“i reckon you’re a proctor,” interrupted the other brusquely. “i’m very busy just at present, and so, if there’s anything more i can do for you, please tell me. if not——” he glanced toward the door. the expressman shuffled uneasily and looked tentatively at his coat and vest. john sank onto a trunk and allowed an appreciative smile to creep into his face. really, little phillip wasn’t so bad! “i’m glad he doesn’t mistake me for the dean,” he thought, “or he would be throwing me out the window!
“why, there is something more you can do for me,” he said aloud, “but it can wait. pray don’t[27] let my presence interfere with the meeting; i have always taken great interest in the manly art. perhaps i can hold the watch for you?”
the slim youth’s eyes sparkled dangerously and the crimson disks spread.
“perhaps you would care to take the place of this—ah—gentleman, sir?” he asked with elaborate courtesy. john applauded silently. but,
“no,” he said, with a regretful shake of his head, “unfortunately i can’t accept your kind invitation. some other time, perhaps.”
“but if i insist that you either do so or leave my room?” continued the other, his anger getting the better of his polite tones. john shrugged his shoulders. the expressman was getting into his coat, growling loudly.
“i shall get out,” john replied frankly, smiling into the boy’s angry face. “but before that,” he went on, “let us have a few minutes of conversation. afterward, if you still persist, i will leave without being dropped from the window.” the other, suddenly realizing that john was at least fifty pounds heavier and very much stronger, scented sarcasm and grew more incensed.
“i can’t imagine what you may have to say, sir,[28] but i—” he pronounced it ah—“assure you that i have no desire to hear a word of it. you will oblige me by quitting my room.”
“say,” interrupted the expressman, “do i get paid for that trunk or don’t i?”
“yes, you do,” answered his late adversary. “you get fifty cents for bringing it out from boston, but you don’t get anything for toting it upstairs.”
“all right, give me the fifty. gee, i’ve wasted a quarter of an hour here now; i could have made another fifty in that time.”
“you acknowledge, then, do you, that you had no right to ask an extra fee for bringing it upstairs?”
“aw, what yer givin’ us? i ain’t askin’ for it, am i?” he turned to john and with difficulty winked his eye slyly. “i guess i got a quarter’s worth, eh?”
“you look as though you had,” replied john gravely.
“you can go now,” said the host.
“aw, is that so?” growled the expressman.
“and here’s your money.” he handed the other a crisp dollar bill.
“what’s to keep me from pocketin’ the whole thing?” asked the expressman.
[29]
“nothing; that’s what you’re to do. i’m giving you fifty cents for the trunk and fifty cents for a tip.” the expressman opened his eyes until they threatened to fall from his head.
“well, i’ll be darned!” he gasped. “say, why couldn’t you give me the quarter i asked for in the first place?”
“because i didn’t please to,” was the calm response. “your demand was unjust.”
“oh, you’re a wonder!” sighed the other hopelessly. “but, say, any time you want to go on with this, just let me know. you got the best of it to-day, but then you haven’t been wrestling with trunks since seven o’clock. next time it might be different, eh?”
there was no answer and the expressman pocketed his money, winked good-naturedly at john and went out.
“good-by, sonny,” he called from the hall. john smiled and phillip ryerson, scowling haughtily at him from the centre of the room, saw it and clenched his hands.
“now, sir, if you’ll be so kind as to follow!” he said in a high, arrogant voice. john’s temper suddenly gave way and he arose from the trunk.[30] he moved slowly across the apartment until he was facing his host.
“look here, you are ryerson, aren’t you—phillip ryerson, of something-or-other court house, what-you-call-it county, state of virginia?”
“yes.” phillip’s curiosity for a moment got the best of his wrath. “how do you know so much about me?” he asked suspiciously.
“oh, what does it matter?” answered john wearily. “but since you are ryerson, allow me to tell you that you’re a very fresh little boy and ought to have a thundering good spanking. good-afternoon.”
phillip watched him in silence until he had reached the door; he was very angry, deeply insulted, but he was also rather uneasy. his visitor, now that he observed him more closely, did not look quite like an impertinent proctor. he wondered if he had not been a bit ill-mannered and hasty. after all, if he wanted people to keep out of his room he should have locked the door. he took a step forward, his lips shaping a hurried apology. but the visitor passed into the hall, and after a moment of hesitation phillip shrugged his shoulders.
“let him go, hang him!” he muttered.
[31]
john found david at the dinner table. the former’s face still expressed a measure of exasperation as he sank into a chair at his friend’s side. david grinned.
“how did you find the boy, johnnie?” he asked.
john flirted his napkin open and eyed his thick soup with disfavour before he answered.
“well, davy,” he said finally, “i think he’ll do. i found him beating an expressman to jelly because the latter wanted to overcharge him. he seems a peculiarly gentle, amiable youth, and i think he will get on very nicely without our tender care, davy.”
“our care!”
“i should have said mine. and i believe i neglected to add that later on he ordered me out of his room and that i went.”
david chuckled loudly.
“the sweet child!” he exclaimed. “johnnie, i can see that you are destined to spend a busy, useful and not uninteresting year.”
“not i,” answered john. “i shan’t go near the little fool again. and corliss can look somewhere else for a nurse for the precious kid.”
but david shook his head solemnly.
“that won’t do, johnnie. you can’t shift responsibilities like that; you’ve got a duty to perform, my boy, and i shall see that you attend to it. you must make allowances for the poor child’s fiery southern nature, and——”
“fiery southern fiddlesticks! eat your dinner, man; we’re going in to the theatre.”
and they went. and david slept peacefully through three acts of a pinero comedy and enjoyed it hugely.
