CHAPTER XVI
IRA PLANS
Ira escaped that night from the gratitude of those in charge of themeeting, but he had to face it next day. Fred Lyons was almost tearfuland Gene slapped him on the back repeatedly and Manager Lowell shookhands with him earnestly on three separate occasions. And at leastthree of the class presidents if not all of them--Ira became a bitconfused eventually--congratulated him and told him he had saved themeeting. Later, between recitations, he was waylaid on the steps ofParkinson by a youth with glasses and a long, thin nose and asked tojoin the Debating Society.
"But I couldn't make a speech to save my life," declared Ira.
"You'd learn very soon, Rowland. Any fellow who can tell a story asyou did last night has the making of a public speaker. In my ownexperience--" and the president of the Debating Society managed to givethe impression that he had spent a lifetime on the rostrum--"I havefound it much more difficult to tell a story or anecdote effectivelythan to deliver an argument."
Ira managed to escape by agreeing to "think it over" and let the otherknow his decision when the football season was done.
For several days he experienced the treatment that falls to one whobecomes suddenly prominent. He had the feeling that fellows lookedafter him as he passed and spoke his name in lowered tones. It wasn'tunpleasant, but it made him a little self-conscious, and Ira didn'texactly like to feel self-conscious. Fellows who usually nodded to himon campus or gridiron now fell into casual conversations, during whichmention was generally made of the football meeting, if not of his sharein it. At the field, too, there were signs of a new consideration,or else Ira imagined them. Coach Driscoll, who never referred to themeeting in Ira's hearing, nevertheless gave more attention to thesubstitute guard, and the same was true of Fred Lyons. It seemed to Irathat one or the other always had an eye on him, was always offeringcriticisms or suggestions. It was flattering, no doubt, but it madehim a little nervous at first, and his playing suffered a bit. EvenBilly Goode got the habit of hovering over him like a fussy old MotherHen, just as he hovered over such celebrities as Captain Lyons or"The" Dannis or Billy Wells or numerous others whose welfare might beconsidered a matter of importance. Several times Ira was "pulled" fromplay merely because he was a little short of breath or had developed amomentary limp. He usually protested weakly, but Billy never listenedto protests. He was an extremely decided trainer.
Another event traceable to Ira's participation in the football meetingoccurred the Tuesday evening following. Neither Fred nor Gene had sofar accepted Ira's invitation to his room at Maggy's, nor had MartJohnston repeated his visit, but on the evening mentioned Fred, Gene,Mart and Brad turned up, and, as Humphrey was also at home for someinexplicable reason, the room's seating accommodations were severelytested. Mart displayed the famous window seat and told humourously oftheir bewilderment when, on putting it together, they had discoveredthat it formed a right angle. Ira saw that the visitors viewed Humphreyboth curiously and, perhaps, a trifle dubiously at first, but Humphreywas quite at his best tonight and by the time Gene had disappeareddown the stairs and subsequently returned with a supply of rye breadsandwiches and hot frankfurter sausages the entente cordial was firmlyestablished. They had a very merry evening, and talked of more subjectsthan could be set down here. Once Gene asked Ira about the story of OldBess, and Ira explained that he had heard it told several times in alumber camp.
"'Fritzy' Smart used to tell it," he said. "'Fritzy' is about sevenfeet tall and all angles, and he talks out of one side of hismouth--like this." Ira mimicked him. "'Fritzy' could make that storylast a quarter of an hour and used to get up and give an imitation ofOld Bess trotting down the track so you could almost see her. I wasafraid I strung it out too much, although, at that, I left out most ofthe details that 'Fritzy' gets in."
"It wasn't a bit too long," said Fred. "You had us sitting on theedges of our chairs. I guess as a story it doesn't amount to so much,Rowland, but it was certainly corking the way you told it."
"Half of the fun," chuckled Brad, "was the way he hit off the Down-Eastdialect. The fellows around me were doubled up half the time."
"Anyway, it did the business," declared Mart. "It was just the thingfor the moment. I had a nice little speech all framed up myself,but----"
"You!" scoffed Brad. "You couldn't make a speech if your worthless lifedepended on it!"
"Run around! Run around! I taught Cicero and Billy Sunday all they everknew! William Jennings Bryan was one of my first pupils!"
"Making a speech is no fun, anyway," sighed Fred. "I made a awful messof it the other night, and I knew it all the time and couldn't seem tohelp it."
"Well, you did sound a bit sepulchral," agreed Gene. "I wanted to sticka pin into you or something."
"You made a nice little address," said Mart kindly. "I liked yourspeech, Gene. It was so short."
"It would have been shorter if I'd had my way," Gene grumbled. "Forthat matter, every fellow that spoke sounded as though he was just backfrom a funeral and didn't expect to live long himself! We were a merrylot!"
"If those slips had been passed around before Rowland here leapednimbly into the breeches--I mean the breach--you'd have collected themunificent sum of nine dollars and thirty-seven cents," said Mart. "Ialready had my hand on the seven cents."
"And I'll bet you kept it there," laughed Brad.
"You guess again! I subscribed for such a vast sum that I won't getsquare with my allowance until Spring. And it was all your fault,Rowland. You and your Old Bess! If I run short I'll be around here toborrow, so keep a little something handy."
"Seen any more of 'Old Earnest,' Rowland?" asked Fred.
Ira replied that he hadn't, and Mart was for inviting him up. "He's agood old scout, Hicks is, and he'd love to sit in and listen to ourenlightening discourse I should think." But the others vetoed theproposal and shortly after the party broke up.
Humphrey was somewhat impressed with the visitors, although hepretended to make fun of them when they had gone. "That fellow Johnstonis a regular village cut-up, isn't he?" he asked. "I guess a fellowwould get fed up with him pretty quick. Does Bradford room with him?"
"Yes, in Goss. They have a corking room. We'll go around some night, ifyou like."
"Oh, I haven't time for those 'screamers,' thanks." "Screamers" wasa word evidently of Humphrey's own devising and was used by him toindicate anyone who "put on side."
"I don't think you can call those chaps 'screamers,'" said Ira mildly."They aren't snobs, anyway."
"Lyons acts as if he wanted to be," Humphrey sniffed. Then, after afew moments of silence, he said: "I don't see how you got acquaintedwith that bunch, anyway. I don't. I never meet up with anyone at schoolexcept pills!"
"Want to know the real reason?"
"Yes," answered Humphrey, with a trace of suspicion, however.
"Well, you don't give yourself a chance, Nead. You train with thatbunch of loafers in the town and it takes all your time."
"Loafers! Don't call my friends names, please. They aren't loafers.Every one of them has a steady, respectable job, Rowland."
"Y-yes, when they work, but it seems to me they're a lot like a fellowwho used to live in my town. He sat in front of the grocery most allday, or, if it was Winter, he sat inside. He had a steady, respectablejob, too, but he didn't work at it much. He was a maker of woodenshoes."
"Oh, piffle," grunted Humphrey. "The fellows I know work just as hardas anyone."
"All right, but they always seem to be able to get away for a game ofpool," answered Ira drily. "If you'll cut loose from them, Nead, andget acquainted with fellows of your own age and--and class, you'll be alot better off. Why, thunderation, you might as well be a day scholarfor all the school life you get!"
"I get all the school life I need," answered Humphrey grumpily. "Allthose fellows like Lyons and Johnston and Goodloe talk about isfootball and baseball and rot like that. They make me tired."
"No, they don't, and you know it," replied Ira calmly
. "You'd be gladto know a dozen fellows like them. And you're going to, too."
"How am I?"
"Why, you're going to cut down your evenings at the Central BilliardPalace, or whatever it's called, to two a week, for one thing. Andyou're going to keep away from there entirely in the daytime, foranother thing. And you're going to pay a few visits with me for a thirdthing."
"Like fun I am!" But Humphrey couldn't disguise the fact that theprogramme held attraction for him. "I don't talk their sort of babytalk," he added sourly.
"You'll learn. It isn't hard. We'll run over tomorrow evening and seeJohnston and Bradford."
Humphrey was silent a minute. Then: "I promised to do somethingtomorrow night," he said doubtfully.
"All right, we'll make it Thursday, then. One night's as good asanother for me. By the way, how did it happen you were around heretonight?"
"Oh, I thought I'd stay at home." Then, after a moment: "Fact is,"he went on, "I'm broke, and there's no fun going down there and justlooking on."
Ira pushed himself back from the table, crossed his legs and observedhis roommate thoughtfully, drumming gently on his teeth with the pen inhis hand. Humphrey grinned back a trifle defiantly.
"Know what I think?" asked Ira finally. "I think you need a financialagent, Nead, a sort of guardian to look after your money affairs. Howmuch do you get a month?"
"Fifteen dollars regularly. If I want more I usually get it. My motherponies up now and then and dad is generally good for an extra fiver."
"Then you have at least twenty a month, eh? Seems to me you ought to beable to scrape along on that."
"It does, does it? Well, it isn't so easy. Food costs a lot, for onething."
"But you don't have to pay for your food out of your allowance, do you?"
"Some of it. I get seven a week for board, but eating around atrestaurants costs a lot more than eating in hall or at a boardinghouse, you see."
"Then why not go to Alumni or come with me to Trainor's? That's whatyou'd better do, I guess. Then, when you get your allowance you hand itacross to me----"
"Help!" laughed Humphrey. "I can see myself doing that!"
"Why not? I'll hand a quarter of it back to you every week. If youneed more than that I'll advance it, but I'll take it out of the nextmonth's allowance. Then you won't have to write home for extra moneyevery ten days or two weeks. Yes, I guess that's what we'll have to do,Nead. I'll put your money in bank with mine and you'll find that itwill last twice as long. Tomorrow you come around to the boarding houseand I'll get you started."
Humphrey stared dubiously. At last: "Oh, well, I'll try it," he said."But if I don't like it I don't have to keep it up."
"No, but you will like it. Meanwhile, how much do you need?"