CHAPTER XXI
MR. KEARNEY MAKES AN OFFER
WELL, it really was warm, and she was in a hurry, and the man in the carriage smiled so nicely, and—and the next thing Harry knew she was sitting beside him, smoothing her skirts and trying to hide her dusty shoes, and the horse was once more jogging along the road. She wasn’t sure whether she had thanked him, so she determined to be on the safe side.
“Thank you,” she said in her most polite and ladylike tones.
“Not at all,” he replied. “I’m under obligations to you, young lady. I am delighted to have some one to talk to. So far my journey has been a trifle dull. My friend on the front seat is not communicative and all my efforts to find a subject of mutual interest have failed. I fancy he is a very wise youth, he says so little. Did you happen to observe him as we passed you?”
Harry nodded a trifle embarrassedly, for the subject under discussion could hear every word.
“Yes? And did he strike you as having a most intelligent appearance?”
“He will hear you,” whispered Harry.
“That’s true,” replied the man. “So we mustn’t flatter him any more. Many noble natures, I dare say, have been spoiled by flattery.”
The boy growled irritatedly at the horse, and the man turned to Harry with raised brows and an expression which said: “There! Have I over-praised him? Isn’t he wonderful?” Harry felt a strong inclination to giggle, but refrained out of consideration for the boy’s feelings and smiled instead. The man smiled back at her and after that they suddenly seemed to have become very good friends.
“You live around here?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, at Ferry Hill,” answered Harry.
“Really? Now that’s where I’m bound. Then you must know the principal there, Doctor Emery, I think his name is.”
“He’s my father,” answered Harry. “I’m Harry—that is, Harriet Emery.”
“O—oh!” said the man, and Harry thought he viewed her with a new interest. “So you’re Miss Harriet, are you? Well, my name is—but there, it isn’t polite to force one’s acquaintance on a lady.” Harry didn’t see the logic of this, and would have intimated the fact had he not gone on. “I used to go to school here myself a good many years ago,” he said. “I suppose things have changed lots since then. New buildings, of course, and everything thoroughly up-to-date?”
“There’s only one new building, I guess,” said Harry, “and that’s the gymnasium. Was the Cottage there when you went to school?”
“Cottage? No, I think not. The Cottage is—”
“It’s where we live,” Harry answered. “There are only four buildings, you know: School Hall, the dormitory, the gymnasium and the cottage. But we’re trying to get a new—” Harry stopped suddenly. Then, “Oh!” she cried, turning with eager eyes, “are you rich?”
“Well, that’s a difficult question to answer,” replied the man with a laugh. “I would probably be called rich around here, but where I live I’m only—well, let us say comfortably off. May I inquire your reason for asking?”
“I suppose you think me very impolite,” said Harry earnestly, “but I didn’t mean to be. I asked, because if you are rich we would like very much to have you subscribe to the dormitory fund. Do you think you could?”
“Possibly. Supposing you tell me something about it. For instance, how much is it going to cost, and how much is already subscribed? But perhaps you aren’t acquainted with the details?”
“Oh, yes, I am. I’m the secretary and treasurer of the society, the Ferry Hill School Improvement Society, you know.” The man bowed gravely, but his brown eyes held a disconcerting twinkle. “It—it’s going to cost thirty thousand dollars,” Harry went on; “and we have got six hundred and thirty-nine dollars and eighty cents.”
“I see; you’ve just started, then.”
“We’ve been at it four months,” answered Harry a trifle disconsolately.
“Really? Then you haven’t progressed very well, have you? What seems to be the trouble?”
And Harry told him. She found a very attentive and sympathetic listener, and she traced the progress of the undertaking from the moment of its inception to the present time, becoming now and then very eloquent and very incoherent. But her audience seemed to approve of her enthusiasm and toward the end even seemed to catch it.
“I hope you’ll succeed,” he said when she had finished breathlessly. “I really do. It was a big undertaking for four young folks like you, but you’ve shown pluck. I’d like to meet this Dick Somebody; he seems to be the kind of boy that grows up to big things. But you’ve all been mighty plucky, I think. We’ll talk about it again, Miss Harriet. I suppose this is where we turn in, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. If you tell him to drive to the Cottage you’ll find papa there, I think, because it’s almost time for luncheon. We’re having it a little earlier than usual on account of the track meet with Hammond this afternoon.”
“Hammond!” exclaimed the man. “That sounds natural. When I went to school here we used to have great fights with Hammond, regular rough-and-tumble battles out on the island down there; and we played base-ball with them, too; I used to pitch; thought pretty well of myself, too; had an in-curve that used to puzzle them all! But we usually got licked, though. How about it now?”
“We beat them more times than they beat us,” said Harry proudly. “We have a dandy base-ball team this spring, and this afternoon we’re going to meet them at running and jumping and hurdling—track athletics, you know.”
“Really? This afternoon? My, I’ll have to see that! Going to beat them, are you?”
“I don’t know,” said Harry. “I’m afraid not. You see, it’s our first year at it; we never had a track team until Dick started it two months ago; and so we aren’t very good yet. But next year—!”
“That’s what we used to say,” laughed the man. “And then when next year came—why, we said it again! Do you know, I’d give a whole lot to see Ferry Hill beat Hammond? I really would, Miss Harriet! I feel the old antagonism rising up inside of me at the mention of the name of Hammond. The fellows there now aren’t the ones I used to know, of course; ‘Tricky’ Peters and Jerry Gould and—and what was that big red-headed fellow’s name, I wonder! Prout! That was it; Prout! Dear me, how I used to hate that fellow Prout! I wonder what became of him. Jerry Gould has an office in my building and we’ve often talked over old times. He declares he made a home-run off of me once, but I don’t believe it, by Jingo! What time does this athletic contest take place?”
“At half past two, sir.”
“Just the thing! I’ll go and see it. Will you take me, Miss Harriet? Good! And—and didn’t you say that this Dick Somebody got up the team?”
“Dick Somes; yes, sir.”
“And he’s the same one that’s president of the Improvement Society?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well, then. You see him and tell him that if he will lick Hammond this afternoon I’ll subscribe to the dormitory fund, handsomely too! What do you say?”
“I’ll tell him,” answered Harry breathlessly. “But—but I don’t believe it will make any difference, because he’ll do the best he can anyhow; and so will the other boys. But I’ll tell him, sir. How much shall I say you’ll subscribe?”
“Well, now you’re getting right down to brass tacks, aren’t you?” laughed the man. “I must think about that. Is this the Cottage? I’ll have to beg some lunch, I guess. Do you suppose your mother will let me have some?”
“Of course,” answered Harry eagerly. “I’ll invite you myself.”
“Thank you very much,” he answered with a smile. “And I’ll accept before you change your mind. And after lunch we’ll have another talk about this matter. You want a new dormitory and I want to see Ferry Hill lick Hammond, and maybe we’ll be able to get together, eh? Stop here, my boy.”
“Whoa thar! Whoa, I tell yer!” chided the freckle-faced driver. “Don’t yer hear me, yer old galoot? Whoa, I say!”
Harry’s new friend jumped nimbly out and gallantly assisted her. Then he paid the boy, adding a dollar for good measure.
“What are you going to do with it?” he asked.
“I dunno,” growled the boy. “Gedap!”
The carriage trundled away and the man looked admiringly after. “I leave it to you, Miss Harriet,” he said in awed tones. “Did I overestimate his intelligence one mite? Did I not rather err on the side of moderation? And now shall we go in?”
As they entered Doctor Emery was crossing the hall, and Harry ran to him.
“Papa,” she said, “here’s a gentleman who’s come to lunch with us. I invited him and it’s all right. He used to go to school here and he’s going to—to—”
“I’m very glad to see you, sir,” said the Doctor, shaking hands. “Very glad to welcome one of our old boys back again, although I fancy you were here before my day. May I ask your name, sir?”
“Kearney, David Kearney, Doctor. Yes, I left here before you took hold; over twenty years ago it was. I met your daughter on the road, begged the pleasure of her company and was rewarded with an invitation to lunch. But if it is going to put Mrs. Emery to any trouble—”
“Why, not a bit, Mr. Kearney. We shall consider it an honor to entertain a man who has—er—fashioned so successful a career, sir.”
“Thank you,” said Mr. Kearney gravely. “And I shall feel more honored to lunch with the honorary president.”
“Eh?” asked the Doctor blankly.
“Why, I am not mistaken, am I?” asked the other with a twinkle in his eye. “You occupy the position of honorary president of the Ferry Hill School Improvement Society, do you not?” The Doctor’s gaze wandered to Harry’s mischievous face and he smiled.
“I fear,” he said, “there is more here than I understand.”
The launch was to make its first trip across to Coleville at half past one, carrying the members of the team and a few privileged friends, returning later for a second load of passengers. At a quarter past one Dick, Roy, Chub and their team-mates were hurriedly changing their clothes in the gymnasium, since it had been decided to dress before crossing to Hammond. Dick was just knotting the cords of his bath-robe about his waist when Sid put his head in at the dressing-room door and called to him.
“Say, Dick! Harry’s outside and wants to see you right off; she says it’s very important.”
“All right, tell her I’ll be there in a second, Sid. Get a move on, fellows; it’s twenty minutes past.”
He followed Sid through the swinging doors and Roy and Chub, struggling into their white and brown running costumes, viewed each other inquiringly. Then Dick thrust the doors open.
“Roy and Chub!” he called. “Get something on and come out here quick!”
“Must be something doing,” said Chub excitedly as he laced his spiked shoes. Then they too disappeared and it was the turn of the others to wonder and speculate. Five minutes later Sid once more appeared.
“Dick says for every fellow to come out right away,” he announced. “He’s got important news.”
A minute later they were all out on the porch, crowding around Dick. Roy and Chub were beside him, and Harry was standing with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks on the stone railing behind them.
“What’s up, Dick?” asked Ed Whitcomb anxiously. “Hammond hasn’t forfeited the meet, has she?”
“No,” answered Dick. “Shut up a minute, fellows; I’ve got something to tell you.” When quiet was restored he went on. “It’s a long story, but I’ve got to make it as short as I can, so if you have any questions to ask wait until later on. You fellows know—or maybe you don’t know, but it’s a fact—that we need another dormitory here at Ferry Hill. The Doctor hasn’t much more than paid expenses the last few years. He needs more boys, and that means more dormitory room. So a while back, along in January, four of us—Harry and Roy and Chub and myself—got up a sort of a club that we called the Ferry Hill School Improvement Society. The purpose was to get money for a new dormitory. We talked with the Doctor about it, but he thought we were just sort of fooling, you know, and wouldn’t have anything to do with it. So we went ahead alone. We sent letters to some of the graduates and we got about six hundred dollars. There was one chap we wrote to who didn’t pay any attention to our letter. You have all heard of him, I guess: Mr. David Kearney.”
There was a chorus of assent.
“Well, he turned up here a couple of hours ago. Instead of answering our letter he waited until he had a chance and came up here to see us.”
There was an incipient cheer which Dick waved down.
“He wants us to lick Hammond. He says that when he was here at school, about twenty years ago, Hammond used to beat Ferry Hill almost all the time. Mr. Kearney played on the ball team; used to pitch; and when Harry told him we were going to meet Hammond on the track this afternoon he said he was going to see it, said it would do him a lot of good to see Ferry Hill beat Hammond just once at something.”
This time the cheer would not be denied, and Dick had to wait until it had died down before he went on.
“So he has sent a message to us by Harry. ‘If,’ he says, ‘you beat Hammond this afternoon, I’ll give the balance of the money needed for the dormitory,’ which is—how much, Harry?”
“Twenty-nine thousand three hundred and sixty dollars and twenty cents,” answered Harry promptly.
“Ph—e—ew!” whistled somebody, and for a moment bedlam broke loose.
“Now,” continued Dick as soon as he could make himself heard, “I know you fellows don’t need this—this incentive to do your very best. You’d have done that anyhow, merely for the sake of beating our rival over there, for the sake of Ferry Hill! But you’re not going to do any less now that you know that so much more depends on victory; you’re going to do a little better than your best, fellows; you’re going over there with a determination to lick Hammond and bring back the championship and secure that new dormitory! Now let’s have a cheer for Mr. Kearney.”
And when it had been given,
“A cheer for Ferry Hill, fellows!” cried Dick.
And then, still shouting and cheering, they tumbled down the steps and raced for the landing.