Read Ebook: Hitting the line by Barbour Ralph Henry Rockwell Norman Illustrator

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Ebook has 1393 lines and 76358 words, and 28 pages

Eleven-twenty-four now, and the boy approached the gate, holding his bag in front of him with both hands so that it bumped at every step and fixing his eyes on the announcement board, his mouth open vacuously.

"Look where you're going!" exclaimed a gentleman with whom the boy collided.

"Huh?"

"Look where you're going, I said! Stop bumping me with your bag!"

"Uh-huh."

The gentleman pushed along, muttering angrily, and the boy followed, his bag pressed against the backs of the other's immaculate gray trousered knees. "Greenbank, Mister?" he inquired of the man at the gate.

"Yes. Ticket, please!"

"Huh?"

"Let me see your ticket."

"Ticket?"

"Yes, yes, your railway ticket! Come on, come on!"

"I got me one," said the boy.

"Well, let me see it! Hurry, please! You're keeping others back."

"Uh-huh." The boy set down his bag and began to dig into various pockets. The ticket examiner watched impatiently a moment while protests from those behind became audible. Finally:

"Here, shove that bag aside and let these folks past," said the man irascibly. "Did you buy your ticket?"

"Huh?"

"I say, did you buy your ticket?"

"Uh-huh, I got me one, Mister."

"Well, find it then! And you'd better hurry if you want this train!"

"Huh?"

"I say, if you want this--Here, what's that you've got in your hand?"

"This?" The boy looked at the small piece of cardboard in a puzzled manner. "Ain't that it?" he asked. But the man had already whisked it out of his hand, and now he punched it quickly, thrust it back to the boy and pushed him along through the gate.

"Must be an idiot," he growled to the next passenger. "Someone ought to look after him."

"All aboard!" shouted the conductor as the boy with the bag swung his way along the platform. "All aboard!"

"Is this the train for Greenbank?"

The conductor turned impatiently. "Yes. Get aboard!"

"Pardon me?" The boy leaned nearer, a hand cupped behind his ear.

"Yes! Greenbank! Get on!"

"I'm so sorry," smiled the other. "Would you mind speaking a little louder?"

"Thank you," replied the boy with much dignity, "but you needn't shout at me. I'm not deaf!" Whereupon he climbed leisurely up the steps of the already moving train and entered a car.

THE BOY FROM OUT WEST

Jimmy Logan and Dud Baker discussed the eccentricities of the obnoxious youth they had encountered in the waiting-room for several minutes after they were seated in the train.

"Know what I think?" asked Jimmy, his choler having subsided. "Well, I think he was having fun with us. There was a sort of twinkle in his eye, Dud."

"Maybe he was," agreed the other. "He was a nice-looking chap. And the way he lit into that big bully of a newsboy was dandy!"

"Guess he knows something about wrestling," mused Jimmy. "Wish I did. Let's you and I take it up this winter, Dud."

"That's all well enough for you. Seniors don't have anything to do. I'm going to be pretty busy, though. Say, you don't suppose that fellow is coming to Grafton, do you?"

"If he is, he's a new boy," was the response. "Maybe he's a Greenie. A lot of Mount Morris fellows go back this way. It's good we got here early. This car's pretty nearly filled. I wish it would hurry up and go. I'm getting hungry."

"How soon can we have dinner?" asked Dud.

"Twelve, I guess. They take on the diner down the line somewhere. Got anything to read in your bag?"

Dud opened his suitcase, lifted out several magazines and offered them for inspection. He was a slim boy of sixteen, or just short of sixteen, to be exact, with very blue eyes, a fair complexion and good features, rather a contrast to his companion who was distinctly stocky, with wide shoulders and deep chest. Jimmy's features were a somewhat miscellaneous lot and included a short nose, a wide, humorous mouth, a resolutely square chin and light brown eyes. His hair was reddish-brown and he wore it longer than most fellows would have, suggesting that Jimmy went in for football. Jimmy, however, did nothing of the sort. In age he was Dud's senior by four months. Both boys wore blue serge suits, rubber-soled tan shoes and straw hats, all of a style appropriate to the time of year, which was the third week in September. The straw hats were each encircled by a scarlet-and-gray band, scarlet and gray being the colors of Grafton School, to which place the two boys were on their way after a fortnight spent together at Jimmy's home. The similarity of attire even extended to the shirts, which were of light blue mercerized linen, and to the watch-fobs, showing the school seal, which dangled from trousers' pockets. It ended, however, at ties at one extreme and at socks at the other, for Jimmy's four-in-hand was of brilliant Yale blue, and matched his hosiery, while Dud wore a brown bow and brown stockings.

Jimmy turned over the magazines uninterestedly. "Guess I've seen these," he said, tossing them to the opposite seat. "I'll buy something when the boy comes through. I wonder what the new room's like, Dud."

"It's bound to be better than the old one. I'm sorry we didn't get one on the top floor, though."

"Guess we were lucky to get into Lothrop at all. That's what comes of leading an upright life, Dud, and standing in with Charley and faculty. Bet you a lot of fellows got left this fall on their rooms. Gus Weston has been trying for Lothrop two years. Wonder if he made it. Hope so. Gus is a rattling good sort, isn't he?"

"Yes. Do you suppose he will be the regular quarter-back this year?"

"Not unless Nick Blake breaks his neck or something. Gus will give him a good run for it, though. Still, Bert Winslow and Nick are great friends, and I guess Nick will naturally have the call."

"Winslow never struck me as a fellow who would play a favorite," objected Dud.

"Here we go," interrupted Dud as the conductor's warning reached them through the open window.

"Look!" exclaimed Dud in a low voice, nudging his companion. The train had begun to move. Following the direction of Dud's gaze, Jimmy's eyes fell on the form of the boy he had accosted in the station. The latter was coming leisurely down the car aisle, looking on each side for a seat. But the weather was warm and the passengers who were so fortunate as to be sitting alone were loathe to share their accommodations. The newcomer, however, displayed neither concern nor embarrassment. Something about him said very plainly that if he didn't take this seat or that it was only because he chose not to, and not because he was intimidated by scowls or chilly glances.

"Maybe," began Dud, looking about the car, "we'd ought to turn this over, Jimmy."

But before Jimmy had time to answer the boy had paused in his progress along the aisle and was smiling genially down on them.

He was, first of all, an undeniably good-looking youth. Even Jimmy was forced to acknowledge that, although he did it grudgingly. In age he appeared to be about sixteen, but he was tall for his years and big in a well-proportioned way. He had brown hair that was neither light nor dark, and eyebrows and lashes several shades paler. His face was rather long and terminated in a surprisingly square chin. His brown eyes were deeply set and looked out very directly from either side of a straight nose. The mouth was a trifle too wide, perhaps, but there was a pleasant curve to it, and at either end hovered two small vertical clefts that were like elongated dimples. Face, neck and hands were deeply tanned. For the rest, he was square-shouldered, narrow-waisted and deep-chested, and there was an ease and freedom in his carriage and movements that went well with the careless, self-confident look of him.

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