“Yes,” Joe agreed, “but you can’t always tell by appearances. Anyway, I wish to goodness we were getting him instead of Kenly!”
Bob nodded and there ensued a long silence during which Joe looked frowningly from the window and Bob gazed fixedly at his hands. It was Bob who spoke first. “Say, Joe,” he asked slowly, “you don’t suppose we could persuade him to come to Alton instead, do you?”
Joe sniffed. “He looks like a fellow you could persuade, doesn’t he?” he asked sarcastically. “Besides, what are you going to offer him? And if we did make him an offer we’d get in wrong with faculty. The Athletic Committee wouldn’t back us up, either.”
“Reckon Kenly’s making it easy for him?” asked Bob doubtfully.
“I don’t know. Looks like it, doesn’t it? I know they pretend to have clean hands and all that, and they surely do enough blowing, but it’s mighty funny they’re always getting star players from the high schools and smaller prep schools. Look at last year. If they hadn’t had Greene and Powers they’d never have licked us; and Greene had just entered from that school up in Rhode Island and Powers was fresh from Stamford High. Oh, well, there’s no use grouching. Let’s go back.”
“Wait a moment.” Bob still stared at his hands and spoke thoughtfully. “Seems to me this chap’s too good to lose, Joe, without making an effort.”
“Sure he is,” growled the captain. “What’s on your mind?”
Bob looked around guardedly. “I’ll tell you,” he said.
CHAPTER II
KIDNAPPED!
“Well, our station’s next,” said Bob some forty minutes later. “Better change your mind, Harmon, and get off with us.”
Harmon answered his laugh and shook his head. “I’d like to, but I’m booked up the line. Is Lakeville the next stop?”
“Second after Alton,” answered Joe as he lifted the suitcases from the rack and handed them to Bob. “Look us up when you come over with the team some time. You’ll find Newhall and me in Lykes and Proctor in Haylow.” There was a warning blast from the locomotive and the train came slowly to a stop. The three Altonians shook hands with Harmon, taking, as it seemed, much time in the ceremony. Outside, on the station platform, a score or more of boys were hurrying toward the carriage stand. Bob had encumbered himself with Joe’s bag and his own and it was he who led the way to the door at last, Martin following with his suitcase and Joe still making his farewell to Harmon. Then the cry of “All aboard!” came and Joe gave Harmon’s hand a final clasp, picked up the kit-bag and fled down the aisle.
For a brief instant Harmon thought his sight had tricked him, but a swift glance showed that his bag was missing and in another instant he was on his feet and calling to Joe. “Hold on there! that’s my bag you’ve got!” he shouted. But Joe evidently didn’t hear, for he was through the door and down the steps before Harmon started after him. When Harmon reached the car platform Joe and his two companions were fifty feet distant, seeking a conveyance. The train was still motionless, although, further back, a trainman was holding his hand aloft. There was but one thing to do and Harmon did it. In an instant he was pushing his way through the luggage-laden throng about the carriages.
“You’ve got my bag, Myers,” he announced breathlessly as he laid hands on it.
Joe looked around in surprise, still holding tight to the bag. “What did you say?” he asked blankly.
Harmon tugged desperately. “My bag! Let go, will you? I’ll lose my train!”
Joe looked at the bag. “Well, what do you know?” he gasped. “By Jove, I am sorry, Harmon! I thought it was mine! Who’s got my bag? Here!” He thrust the bag at Harmon so energetically that the latter failed to grasp it. “Better hurry, old man! Your train’s going!”
“Thanks!” Harmon turned and started back. He would doubtlessly have swung himself to the platform of the rear car had it not been for Bob’s awkwardness. Bob was terribly sorry and apologetic about it afterwards! Just as Harmon was free of the group, a clear path across the station platform before him, Bob stepped directly in front of him! Of course you know what happened then. Harmon dodged to the right and at the same instant Bob stepped to the left, which didn’t better the situation the least bit. Bob looked most embarrassed, and you could see that he felt just like kicking himself. In fact, he assured them all afterwards that he felt that way. But meanwhile he made the mistake of stepping back to the right just as Harmon made a final despairing effort to get past him on that side, and again they collided!
Harmon set his bag down then, smiled rather a sickly smile and watched the train become smaller and smaller in the distance. Bob fairly revelled in self-reproach and abjected himself to such an extent that a heart of stone would have been moved to forgiveness. And as Harmon’s heart wasn’t made of any such material he gave his attention to assuring Bob that it didn’t really matter. Joe and Martin were most regretful, and Joe tried to take all the blame. But Bob wouldn’t allow that.
“No, if I hadn’t got in the way, like a blamed idiot, he’d have got it all right,” he insisted. “You see, I thought he was coming over here and so I stepped over there – like this – and he came the other way and I tried to side-step him and – ”
“It doesn’t matter a bit,” Harmon assured them, smiling quite cheerfully now. “There’ll be another train pretty soon.”
“That’s so!” Evidently the idea hadn’t occurred to Bob before and he welcomed it with enthusiasm. “Sure, there’s a train about six o’clock, fellows!”
“Well, that’s nearly two hours,” said Joe. “Let’s put our bags inside and find some seats. No use standing up all that time.”
“Oh, but you chaps needn’t wait around,” declared Harmon. “I wouldn’t think of having you do that!”
The three looked at each other inquiringly. Then: “Can’t let you wait around here all alone,” said Joe decidedly; “not after making you lose your train like that. Bob, you and Martin go on up and take my bag with you, and I’ll stay here.”
“Why not all go up?” asked Martin. “Harmon’s got nearly two hours to wait. He might as well come along and be comfortable.”
“That’s the ticket!” exclaimed Bob. “Leave your bag here and ride up to school with us, Harmon. We’ll show you around a bit and then we’ll go up to my room or Joe’s and rest until about a quarter of an hour before your train goes. And I’ll ride back with you!”
Harmon hesitated. “That’s very nice of you,” he said warmly, “but I wouldn’t want to miss another one. Maybe I’d better just sit in the station and – ”
“You’d die of the heat down here in this hole,” said Joe. “Come on! We’ll find out when the train is due, leave your bag with the agent and beat it.”
Harmon allowed himself to be persuaded. After all, it was decidedly warm there at the station, and an hour and fifty-one minutes – which was what the agent made it – would be a long time to wait. And Joe insisted on waiting with him, too, and that was the strongest argument presented, for Joe and his friends had treated him mighty nicely and Harmon felt that it would be a pretty low piece of business to make any of them suffer. So off they all went presently in one of the tumble-down, creaky carriages that still competed with the few taxi-cabs at Alton, and Harmon proved himself a thoroughly good sport by appearing to forget the regrettable incident and displaying much interest in the town and, finally, the school.
The others pointed out all points of interest on the way: the Congregational Church that had the tallest steeple in New England – none of them could remember the exact figures, however – the Town Hall and Library, the rival motion picture theaters, the Common with the statue of Nathan Hale in the center – at least Bob and Martin thought it was Nathan Hale and