Part 66

"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 incumbent 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 quantity,--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 principally 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 rushing 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."