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CHAPTER V ALF TAKES A PUPIL
Presently, when Gerald’s wounds were dressed, Dan persuaded him to tell his story. He had got over his tears and was looking rather depressed and ashamed of himself.

“I was coming up the hill toward the gymnasium,” began Gerald.

“What were you doing down there?” Dan asked.

“I—I was just taking a walk along by the river,” answered Gerald evasively.

Dan nodded. “Homesick,” he thought.

“I’m sorry you didn’t come back to the room,” he said. “I waited here for you some time. I wanted to take you over to see Loring and Dyer.”

“I don’t want to go there,” answered Gerald. “They don’t like me.”

“You’re mistaken. Tom asked me this afternoon to bring you over often. They’re nice fellows and I want you to like them. But never mind about that now. What happened when you were coming up from the river?”

[46]

“I met four or five fellows just this side of the tennis courts, near the little red building, you know.”

Dan nodded again.

“And one of them said something about ‘Miss Nancy.’ I didn’t pay any attention and just kept right on. Then this fellow Thompson—”

“Hold on! What sort of a looking fellow is Thompson?”

“He—he’s kind of heavy, with dark hair, and wears a plaid cap.”

“Sort of sallow, with a mole on his cheek? I think I remember him. But he’s bigger than you, isn’t he?”

“A little,” said Gerald grudgingly.

“All right. What happened?”

“He said ‘No, that’s Little Money-bags,’ and the other fellows laughed, and one of them said something I didn’t hear. Then Thompson said: ‘Oh, yes, his father’s got lots of money, but if folks knew where he got it he’d be in prison.’”

“And then what?” asked Dan sympathetically.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“No, I—I just hit him!” Dan smiled.

“That wasn’t a very good thing to do, Gerald. We don’t go in for that sort of thing here at Yardley.”

[47]

“I don’t care. What right had he to say that? I did hit him and I’ll do it again if he talks that way about my father!”

“Well, you hit him. Then, I suppose he hit you?”

“No. He was going to, but some of the other fellows ran in and said we’d be seen. Then Thompson asked if I wanted to fight, and I said I did, and we went back of the little red building and—and—fought.”

“How long?”

“Just a minute. I couldn’t do anything, Dan. He knew how to fight and I didn’t.”

“Well, but your knuckles—”

“I hit him once on the chin,” acknowledged Gerald with satisfaction, “but that’s about all. Then he hit me on the nose.”

“And that ended it?”

“Yes. I wanted to go on, but they wouldn’t let me. One of them gave me a handkerchief—I couldn’t find mine. It’s on the stand there. Then I came up here.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t meet anyone but a couple of fellows in front of Oxford. I don’t care if they did see me.”

“Well, it’s just as well that you didn’t run across any of the Faculty,” said Dan dryly.[48] “Faculty doesn’t like scraps. How’s the nose feeling?”

“All right now; it’s just sore. It—it felt as though it was broken at first. Did you ever have a real fight with another fellow, Dan?”

“Oh, I’ve had two or three scrimmages,” replied Dan carelessly, “but not here. And I guess you’d better make up your mind to let this be your last one, Gerald.”

“I’m going to learn to box,” said Gerald determinedly. “And when I know how I’m going to lick Thompson.”

“Well,” answered Dan soothingly, “maybe you won’t want to by that time.”

“Does it take long? Is it hard to learn?”

“Boxing? N-no, I guess not, but I don’t know much about it: I never took any lessons.”

“Will you box with me sometimes in the gym?”

“Perhaps,” answered Dan, “but you’d better get Alf Loring to show you; he’s a dandy at it, they say.”

“Do you think he would?”

“Yes, but I’d forget about Thompson, Gerald. I dare say he’s sorry for what he said. Did you make up afterwards?”

Gerald shook his head.

“He wanted to shake hands, but I wouldn’t. He’s got to apologize for what he said about my[49] father, every word, before I’ll make up with him.”

“The best thing to do is to leave him alone and forget all about it,” counseled Dan. “That’s what I’d do.” Gerald shook his head.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said sagely, and Dan thought it best not to argue the matter.

“Shall you see Loring again soon?” asked Gerald.

“I’ll see him to-morrow, I suppose. Why?”

“Will you ask him about boxing? Would you mind?”

“No, but it would be much better if you asked him yourself. We’ll drop around there this evening for a few minutes.”

“All right,” said Gerald, “but I’m afraid he’ll think it’s awfully cheeky of me.”

“No, he won’t. Now let’s get fixed up for supper. Let’s see how your nose looks. Well, I guess most anyone would know that you’d been in some sort of a mix-up, but it doesn’t look very bad. You’d better look the other way, though, when you meet any of the Faculty. How are the fellows at your table, by the way?”

“All right, I guess. I don’t know any of them very well, except a little chap named Merrow.”

“Merrow? Seems to me I know him. Oh, yes, I met him coming up from the station the other day. Is he nice?”

[50]

“Yes, but he’s just a kid.” Presently Gerald paused in his ablutions long enough to announce; “I’m going to try for the Clarke hockey team, Dan.”

“Are you? Did Bendix say you could play hockey?”

“Yes, on the dormitory team. Hockey and tennis. I don’t see why I can’t play baseball, do you?”

“N-no, but I suppose Muscles has his reason. How are you getting along at the gym?”

“All right. It’s mostly dumb-bells and wands now, though. But it’s pretty good fun, isn’t it? Next week we’re going to do stunts on the bars and things like that. I think I’ve got more muscle now than I had when I came, don’t you? Look.” And Gerald pulled his sleeve up, exposing a pathetically thin arm, and brought his clinched hand up to his shoulder, watching Dan anxiously.

“Hm, yes, I believe you have,” said Dan gravely. “You keep on, Gerald, and you’ll be mightily surprised at the result. It’s wonderful what you can do in the gym. I’ve only been here about three months and I’ve increased my chest expansion almost two inches.”

“Really? Mr. Bendix said I was awfully flat chested, and I guess I am. I wish I had your muscles, Dan.”

[51]

“You keep on and you will have. All ready? Come on, then. Are you hungry?”

“Not very. I’m never very hungry, Dan. Even at home I don’t eat much.”

“You wait until you’ve been here a little longer,” laughed Dan, “and you won’t talk that way!”

After supper they went over to Dudley.

“Here he is!” cried Alf as Dan opened the door of Number 7. “What shall we do to him, Tom? Hello, Pennimore, how are you?”

“Quite well, thank you,” replied Gerald politely. Alf grinned at Dan.

“Glad you’re bringing him to be respectful,” he whispered in Dan’s ear as Gerald spoke to Tom. “Well, find seats, my worthy guests. Hello, Pennimore! What’s happened to your face? Sort of out of drawing, isn’t it? If I didn’t know you for a peaceable citizen I’d say you’d been—er—mixing it up a bit.”

Gerald looked diffidently at Dan.

“Tell your own story,” laughed Dan.

“I—I got hit,” muttered Gerald.

“Oh!” said Alf, suppressing a grin.

“Who hit you?” asked Tom.

“A fellow named Thompson. We—we had a sort of a fight.”

“The dickens you did! What about?”

[52]

Then Gerald found courage to give an account of the incident. Tom nodded approvingly.

“You did just right,” he said. “Sorry you didn’t hurt him a bit worse. He’s a fresh kid, anyway.”

“Still,” interposed Dan, with a meaning glance at Tom, “I tell Gerald we don’t go in for scrapping here.”

“That’s right,” answered Tom. “We don’t—except when it’s necessary. When a chap says things about your parents, though, it’s necessary. Just remember that, Pennimore. Don’t you take any fellow’s dust. If he’s too big for you, just you come and tell me; understand?”

“Yes, thank you,” replied Gerald. “I—I didn’t want to fight, but there wasn’t anything else I could do, was there?”

“Not a thing!” said Tom heartily. “Oh, you may frown all you want to, Dan, but I’m right, and you know it, you old hypocrite.”

“You’ll get Gerald into trouble if you give him advice like that, though,” Dan objected. “Faculty won’t stand for fights, and you know it.”

“Yes, but Collins won’t be hard on a fellow for sticking up for the honor of the family, so to speak. He’s human, Collins is. And I guess we three know that as well as anyone. Ever fought before, Gerald?”

[53]

“No, I never have,” answered Gerald apologetically. Alf laughed.

“Well, don’t apologize. After all, in spite of Tom, we’re not all sluggers here.”

“I’d like to know something about fighting, though,” said Gerald with a beseeching look at Dan.

“He’s got a favor to ask of you, Alf, and he’s afraid you’ll think he’s cheeky,” explained Dan.

“Of me? What is it? Let’s hear. I promise now not to think you cheeky, Pennimore. Want me to re-shape your nose for you?”

“I—I wondered whether you’d mind giving me a few lessons in boxing,” said Gerald soberly.

“By Jove, I like your grit! Want to be ready for the next one, eh?” Gerald didn’t reply.

“Fact is,” laughed Dan, “he wants to learn how to fight so he can lick Thompson. I tell him he’d better call it quits, but—”

“Oh, Alf will teach you, all right,” interrupted Tom. “If he doesn’t I’ll make him.”

“You! You couldn’t make a cat sneeze!” jeered Alf. “I’ll be very glad to show you what I know, Pennimore,” he added kindly. “We’ll get together some day real soon. We can use the boxing room in the gym Saturday afternoons, I guess. As to Thompson—well, you’ve shown him you won’t stand for his nonsense, and I guess[54] he will let you alone after this. But boxing is mighty good exercise and it will do you good.”

“I’m awfully much obliged,” murmured Gerald. “I guess you will find me pretty stupid, though.”

“That’s all right. You’ll learn. You’re light on your feet and you look quick. Here, don’t rush off, Dan.”

“Must. Gerald and I have got studying to do.”

“Well, so have I, but you don’t see me worrying about it, do you?” laughed Alf. “Sit down and be sociable.”

“Can’t, honest!” replied Dan. “Good night, you fellows.”

After they had gone Tom looked across at Alf.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well what?”

“He isn’t such a sissy after all, is he?”

“Who? Little Geraldine?” asked Alf with a laugh. “Oh, he will get on in time. Say, though, doesn’t Dan remind you of old Mrs. Mother Hen with her one chick?”

And Alf went off chuckling to find his books.

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