Right End Emerson

“Yes, he does. We were speaking of you just the other day. Now I tell you what you do, Emerson. You drop in at our room some night; say to-morrow; to-morrow’s Sunday, isn’t it? Thought so. Yes, you come around and we’ll talk this over. I don’t see why Stan shouldn’t have something to say about where baseball stuff is bought. He’s captain. And I’ll try to get either Bob Coolidge or Greenwood there; maybe both. If you could get the job to supply the basket ball team and the hockey team it would be a help, eh? And then, maybe, we can wangle the baseball situation, too, later. Gordon, the manager, is sort of a pill, but Stan can put something over on him, I guess.”

Jimmy was quite radiant, and his infectious grin met a ready response from Russell. “That’s mighty fine of you,” stammered the latter. “It would be a dandy start just to get one of the teams, Austen. Don’t know why you should take all that trouble, though. But I’m – ”

Russell’s further and somewhat incoherent remarks were interrupted by Mr. J. Warren Pulsifer, who, having deposited the funeral wreath in the refrigerator at the back of the store, now paused nearby. “I’ll be going along, Mr. Emerson,” he announced sadly. “Please be sure that the door is locked when you leave. Good night.”

“Good night,” answered Russell. “I’ll look after everything, sir. By jove, it’s six o’clock!”

“Right-o! I must toddle. You coming over?”

A few minutes later, having put out the lights and securely locked the door, Russell fell in beside Jimmy and the two went briskly off toward the Green. Jimmy was whistling again, but now he had quite forgotten his great sorrow and the sounds he made no longer disguised a crushed spirit and a broken heart. At the corner of State street Russell broke in on the melody.

“Austen, I wish you’d do something for me,” he said.

“Name it,” answered Jimmy promptly. “Hang you, keep still!”

The latter part of the remark was addressed to the parcel he carried, which was earnestly striving to distribute its contents along the way.

“I want to – I want some advice,” continued Russell.

“In that case you’ve come to the right person, Emerson. I’m famous for my advice. What’s the problem?”

Thereupon Russell told about Steve Gaston’s visit and the resulting complications. “Now,” ended Russell, “do you think I ought to go back to the team, Austen?”

“Hm,” said Jimmy. “Well, I don’t just see how you can, you know!”

“But that isn’t it. Ought I to? Is it my duty to – to the School?”

Jimmy was silent for nearly half the block. Then: “Well, if you want my perfectly honest opinion, Emerson,” he said, “I think it’s every fellow’s duty to do what he can for the old A. A. If you can play a fair line of football and Steve needs you – ” He stopped. “Still, there’s this store. I don’t believe any fellow could find fault with you if – well, if you didn’t play, Emerson. At least – ” Then his voice dwindled again.

“Just the same,” persisted Russell, “you do think it’s my duty to, don’t you?”

“Except for the store – ”

“Leave the store out of it, please, Austen.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” said Jimmy relievedly, “absolutely yes. Maybe I’m a little nutty on the subject, Emerson, but I never could stand fellows who weren’t willing to pitch in and do their blamedest for their school or their college or – or their country. Maybe I’m sort of sentimental, but that’s the way I feel. I hate a quitter. Not that you’d be that, of course, under the circumstances – ”

“I guess, though, I would be,” said Russell thoughtfully. “Well, that’s settled then.”

“Meaning you’ll go back on the second? What about the store, though. Hang it, Emerson, you’d better not take my say-so. Leave it to some one else. Put it up to – to – I tell you! Have a talk with Mr. Kincaid. He’s a good old scout and has a fine bean on him!”

But Russell shook his head. “I’d rather have your idea than any of the faculty’s, Austen. I mean, it’s the way the fellows look at it that interests me. You’re right, and Gaston was right, and I’m sure of it.” Then he smiled ruefully in the twilight. “I wish, though,” he added, “I didn’t have to convince Stick!”

“Stick? Oh, Patterson: yes, I see. He won’t like it, eh? Look here, Emerson, why shouldn’t he take over the store afternoons? He’s got his money in it, the silly ass. Doesn’t want to lose it, does he? Well, it seems to me it would be just common horse sense for him to – to leap into the breeches – I should say breach, eh?”

“He won’t though. He’s – well, he’s pretty fairly obstinate. He doesn’t want to lose his money, no, but he says he won’t keep store afternoons and I know him well enough by this time to be mighty certain that he won’t!”

“Silly ass!” commented Jimmy as they reached the front of Academy Hall and the parting of their ways.

“I’m awfully much obliged to you,” said Russell. “You’ve been mighty friendly, Austen. I’ll be around to-morrow night if you’re quite certain you want to go to all that – ”

“Wait a second!” interrupted the other, hunching the dilapidated parcel further under his arm with a thoughtful frown. “Look here, old son, I’ve got an idea. At least, I think I have. I’ve got something, anyhow. Would this Stick fellow be willing to stay in the store afternoons if he didn’t have to go there at all in the mornings?”

“Why, yes, I think he would. I’m sure he would. But, you see, the trouble is that he has to be there mornings, too. I have recitations – ”

“A bas les recitations!” exclaimed Jimmy. “Listen! Suppose you could get some one to stick around the shop in the morning when you couldn’t. Wouldn’t old Stick be willing to put in the afternoon there?”

“Yes, but we’d have to pay some one, and – just now – ”

“Not necessarily. At least, not much. Say – say twenty-five cents a week. Would twenty-five cents a week seem unreasonable? Then let us say fifteen – ten – five!”

“We might pay that much,” laughed Russell mirthlessly, “but just where could we find any one who’d come for that?”

“Where?” Jimmy struck an attitude intended to be heroic but which was somewhat marred by the sudden collapse of the parcel under one arm. A carton of crackers, a box of caramels, six oranges and two unidentified articles descended to the flagging. When the oranges had been chased down and recovered and the wreckage stowed into various of Jimmy’s pockets the latter took up the conversation where it had been so rudely interrupted.

“You asked where you were to find this – this paragon of industry, Emerson. In response I say to you: Look! Behold! He is before you!”

“Eh?” faltered Russell. “You? You mean – ”

“Who else? Here am I with most of my mornings wasted. Of course, I kick the jovial football into the empyrean, but there are other times for that. Besides, I am convinced that I shall never cause Charley Brickley to faint with envy! When Mart picked me to become a punter he picked a most acidulous lime! But that aside and, as it were, apart, Emerson. I have always had a sneaking desire to sell things over a counter, and here’s my opportunity. You wouldn’t want me to do it for nothing. Your pride would rebel. So I insist on a salary, a salary of, shall we say, ten cents a week.”

“You’re – you’re fooling,” said Russell dubiously.

“Nary a fool! Come on, do I get the job? Let me remind you, Emerson, that time is fleeting and my inner man cries for sustenance. Also, doubtless, Stan is pacing the room like a caged lion. If the salary asked is too steep, why, I’ll compromise. We’ll say five cents; but I won’t come down another nickel!”

“Why – why – ” stammered Russell.

“Agreed then! I’m a wage-earner at last! I’ll drop around later and we’ll sign the contract. So long!”

And Jimmy waved gayly and sprinted for Lykes.

CHAPTER X

JIMMY CONSPIRES

True to his word, Jimmy arrived at Number 27 Upton shortly after supper. Stick, to whom Russell had imparted the proposed solution of the problem, was not present. Stick had succinctly declared that Russell was crazy and that he refused to listen to any more of his ravings. He had not, however, refused to keep store in the afternoon in return for having his mornings free, and that was the principal thing.

Jimmy declared that he had feared Russell might change his mind about employing him and so leave him jobless in the face of a long and cruel winter, and consequently he had hurried right up so soon as he had satisfied the inner man. He had brought his schedule and when Russell had produced his they leaned over the two cards and, as Jimmy phrased it, doped out a course of action. On the whole, Russell’s hours and Jimmy’s seldom interfered, and there were but two mornings when for more than sixty minutes the store would have to be left to Mr. J. Warren Pulsifer’s care.

“Corking!” declared Jimmy. “I’ll go down Monday morning with you and you can show me where things are and all that. Something tells me, Emerson, that I was born to be a merchant, and Heaven help any poor guy that steps his foot inside that store while I’m there. He will either have to buy something or fight me!”

“Better try peaceful means first,” suggested Russell, smiling.

“Oh, yes, I shan’t insist on trouble. By the way, are there any punching-bags in stock? It might be well for me to keep in trim. Let’s see, how do you do it?” Jimmy rubbed his hands and bowed to Russell. “Good morning, sir. Nice weather we’re having, are they not? Tennis balls? Certainly. Right this way, please, to the tennis department. Here you are, sir, the finest ball on the market. Used exclusively by the Prince of Wales, Lloyd George and all the best players. Covered with the most expensive Peruvian broadcloth. Every ball filled with two thousand atmospheres of balloon gas, making it the lightest and liveliest ball on the market. As I might say, sir, it’s bound to bound. We are making a special price on them this year, eighty cents apiece or five dollars a half-dozen. If you take six dozen we include a high-grade racket. With a gross we give you, absolutely without charge, a receipt for making indelible ink. Half a dozen? Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Shall I wrap them up or will you take them with you?”

“Aren’t you mixed on your prices a little?” laughed Russell.

“Possibly.” Jimmy waved carelessly. “I never was good at arithmetic. By the way, you haven’t a cash register, have you? No? That’s good. I’d never be a success as a salesman where there was one of those things to keep tabs on me!”

“Austen,” asked Russell, sobering, “what are you doing this for?”

“This? Oh, you mean this. We-ell – ” Jimmy blinked. “I don’t know, Russell. I thought it was because I liked your – your pep and wanted to help you out. But I’m not sure that it isn’t really because I want a lark!”

“Well, it’s mighty decent of you, anyway,” replied Russell. “It gets me out of a hole. You see, I like football, Austen, even if I’m not very much good at it, and it was sort of hard not to play this fall. Still, I wouldn’t have thought of doing it if Gaston hadn’t got after me. Now I’m wondering whether I’m going to play because I think it’s my duty to or just because I really want to!”

“Jove,” said Jimmy, “you’ve got a regular Puritan conscience, Emerson! What’s it matter? The main thing is that you’re going to. Now sit down and tell me about things at the store. You give a discount to our chaps, don’t you? Well, how about high school students?”

“Just the same,” said Russell. “I thought we’d better. They might get sore if we didn’t.”

“I see. Still, I don’t believe Crocker does.”

“All the more reason why we should, then, Austen.”

“Yes, but – Say, cut out that ‘Austen’ stuff, won’t you? My name’s Jimmy.”

“And mine’s Russell,” replied the other, smiling. “More often just Rus.”

“I get you! Though, of course,” Jimmy added, “when I am on duty I shall call you Mr. Emerson!”

Half an hour later Jimmy paused at the door to say: “Oh, by the way, about to-morrow night.”

“That’s all right,” replied Russell quickly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Eh? What doesn’t matter?” asked Jimmy, puzzled.

“Why, I mean,” floundered Russell, “if it isn’t convenient – ”

“Rot! What I was about to say was that I think it’ll be best not to be too raw, if you see what I mean. We’ll use tact and diplomacy, old son. You just happen in and we’ll have a social little talk, the lot of us, and after awhile I’ll accidentally bring up the subject of the store. You leave it to me. Better not let those guys suspect that we’re putting up a game on ’em, eh? Well, so long, Rus. Drop in about seven-thirty or a quarter to eight.”

Stick, when he returned to the room later, was in a much better humor than when he had left. He had, it developed, won two straight games of billiards from another chap over in Haylow. Russell listened with flattering attention to Stick’s dramatic narrative of the contests, thereby increasing the latter’s content. At last, Stick tore himself from the engrossing subject, frowned slightly and asked: “Well, did you and Austen fix it up?”

Russell explained the arrangements. “That’ll give you every morning free except Saturday, Stick. Saturday Austen won’t be able to be there, and I have a nine o’clock and an eleven. In the afternoons, except Tuesdays – Here, this is the schedule. I tend store every afternoon except Tuesday from one to three. You come on at three and stay until six. Or, five-thirty, if you like. I’ll be down every day right after practice and I ought to get there by half-past. How is that?”

“All right, I guess,” replied Stick slowly, looking over the schedule rather as though he suspected that something was being put over on him. “Of course, afternoon’s likely to be the busy part of the day, if things ever get busy, that is!”

“I know, but you won’t have so much to do that it’ll wear you out,” answered Russell.

“It doesn’t look like it,” agreed Stick plaintively. “Say, we’re going to lose our money as sure as shooting, Rus!”

“I don’t think so,” answered the other with more confidence than he felt. “We can’t lose it all, anyhow, Stick. We haven’t signed any lease and we can give up the place at a month’s notice. We can return most of our stock, too.”

“Yes, but we’ll be out two months’ rent at the very least, and we’ve sunk about a hundred in rent and advertising and dolling the place up. Pulsifer won’t allow us anything for the paint and varnish and work we put in there, I suppose.”

“No, we’re bound to lose something, of course, if we have to quit,” acknowledged Russell. “But I don’t believe we’ll have to, Stick. Something tells me that things are going to pick up pretty soon.”

“I wish something would tell me so,” said Stick mournfully. “I don’t mind saying, Rus, that I’m plaguey sorry I went into it!”

“Well, don’t let’s give up the ship yet,” replied the other patiently. “Toss me that Latin book over here, will you?”

“What I don’t see,” went on Stick, complying, “is what this fellow Austen gets out of it. I suppose he’s – well, square, eh?”

“Of course he is,” answered Russell indignantly.

“Well, don’t get waxy. How do I know? What’s he going to tend the store for without pay, then?”

“He’s not. He’s on salary.”

“What?” almost shrieked Stick. “You mean we’re going to pay him money?”

Russell nodded, enjoying Stick’s consternation.

“I won’t do it!” cried the other. “No, sir! Why, hang it, Rus, we can’t afford it!”

“Oh, yes, we can,” answered Russell soothingly. “It’s only ten cents a week!”

“Ten cents! Ten cents a – ” Stick stared blankly. “Is he crazy? What’s he want ten cents for? Why doesn’t he do it for nothing?”

“Well, he told me that he wanted to be a wage-earner,” explained Russell gravely.

Stick viewed him suspiciously. “It’s mighty funny,” he grunted. “The whole business is mighty funny. You and Austen are up to something, I’ll bet. All right, but just let me tell you that I’m not paying out my money to him!”

“You don’t mind five cents a week, do you?” asked Russell, grinning.

“No, I’ll pay five cents, all right, but I won’t pay a penny more. I’ve lost enough already in the fool business!” And Stick pulled a book to him savagely and intimated that he was through with the subject.

Russell found not only the hockey and basket ball captains in Number 4 Lykes Hall the next evening, but Cal Grainger. These, with Stanley, Jimmy and Russell, quite filled the room. Afterwards, Russell learned from Jimmy that Cal’s appearance was unsolicited and unexpected. Jimmy managed to convey the impression that Russell was a frequent caller, and was aided in the mild deception by Stanley, who had been admitted to the conspiracy. Russell was aware of the slightly puzzled inspections of the others, but appeared not to be. Bob Coolidge, the hockey team captain, was a tall, slim-bodied senior with a nice smile and a queer way of stuttering when he got the least bit excited. Sid Greenwood was small in comparison, with sharp black eyes, rebellious dark hair and a quick manner of speech and movement. Russell knew them both by sight, just as he knew Cal Grainger, but had never been introduced to them before to-night. He found a seat on a corner of Stanley’s bed after the introductions had been performed and helped himself to the caramels that Stanley passed. The talk was concerned with the criminality of the Athletic Committee, and Coolidge stuttered amusingly as he thumped the edge of the window-seat.

“A l-lot of Miss N-N-Nancies,” he declared earnestly. “You’d think we were j-just kids, the way they c-c-coddle us! Gosh! Why, look at Kenly! They g-g-got a twelve-game sc-sc-sc-sc – ”

“Schedule,” prompted Cal kindly.

“ – Hedule,” went on Coolidge, batting his eyes wildly. “And all we c-c-can get is s-seven games, with a p-p-possibility of eight if we c-c-can p-p-persuade Oak Grove to play here! What kind of a sc-sc – ”

“You can’t say it, Bob,” interposed Greenwood. “Don’t try. We know what you mean. Also, son, we agree with you that the committee is a bunch of old women and that Peghorn is the worst of the lot. I hope he gets his bonnet-strings all knotted up! You can’t – ”

“Oh, Peg isn’t to blame,” said Jimmy. “He’s no worse than the rest. What we need here is a student council or something to talk turkey to those antediluvian birds. How many games do you fellows get away, Sid?”

“Four,” replied the basket ball leader scornfully.

“Well, that’s one more than we get,” said Jimmy.

“Sure, but it’s different – ”

“Taking a football team around’s not at all the same,” broke in Cal. “You have to have thirty or more fellows and half a dozen coaches and trainers and nurses – ”

“Quite different,” agreed Coolidge, eagerly. “We take ten or eleven f-f-fellows, and it d-d-doesn’t c-cost us anything to speak of, and we get home early – ”

“Having lost the game,” interpolated Cal, unkindly.

“Sh-sh-shut up! S-s-same with the b-b-basket ball outfit, too. S-s-seven or eight men and n-no expense – ”

Russell lost the rest, for just there, under cover of the conversation, Stanley addressed him. “I hear you’re on the second football team, Emerson,” he said.

“I’m going out to-morrow,” answered Russell.

“Yes, Jimmy was telling me. I guess Steve Gaston’s going to work up a rip-snorting outfit, if what I hear is right. Great fellow, Steve. Hard luck, his not being able to play this year. What’s your position?”

“I played end last year. Gaston wants me to try for it again.”

“How’s the store getting along? Doing pretty well?”

CHAPTER XI

FAIR PROMISES

Russell was spared an answer, for just then Jimmy appealed to him. “That’s right, isn’t it, Rus? If it wasn’t for football these fellows would be prying up asphalt or laying sewer pipes, wouldn’t they? We have to earn money to keep their old hockey teams and basket ball teams going. Yes, and pay for the crew and the baseball nine, too!”

“Not by a long shot,” exclaimed Cal. “Leave the Nine out of it, Jimmy. We’ve paid our own way for many a season, old scout!”

“Pooh! Made expenses, maybe, but you generally have to come a-borrowing from the old sock every spring.”

“Well, we pay it back, son.”

“You fellows have to have too many bats and gloves and fancy fixings,” continued Jimmy. “And you wear too good clothes, too. I’ll bet it costs you a fortune to outfit every spring, and – ”

“Listen to him!” exploded Cal. “Great Guns, what does it cost to run a football team?”

“That’s different,” laughed Jimmy. “A football team’s worth while, Cal. Besides, when it comes to that, those uniforms you fellows wear cost more than a football suit, I’ll bet.”

“Rot!”

“Well, what do they cost? Come on, now. Let’s hear.”

“I don’t know, you idiot. We get ’em by the bunch. Maybe eight dollars, maybe nine.”

“Can you beat that?” Jimmy appealed to the company. “Captain of the Nine and doesn’t know what his uniforms cost him!”

“That’s not my business, you chump. That’s up to the managers. I’ve got enough to look after – ”

“Well, here’s a fellow can tell us.” Jimmy turned to Russell. “What do those uniforms cost, Rus, per uniform? You ought to know.”

Russell smiled and shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t. You can pay almost any price for a three-piece uniform, from six dollars up to twelve. It depends on how many you buy, of course, and on quality, too.”

“Are you an authority on the subject, Emerson?” asked Greenwood.

Russell shook his head. “No, not at all,” he answered.

“You’re an awful bluffer, Jimmy,” laughed Cal.

“Not a bit,” denied Jimmy stoutly. “Rus sells uniforms and he ought to know the prices of ’em better than we do. It’s his busi – ”

“Oh!” exclaimed Cal. “You’re the Emerson who has the store on West street! Of course! I missed that. Yes, you must know something about baseball togs. Football togs, too, eh? Well, tell us, then, which outfit costs the most, Emerson.”

“Football,” answered Russell, smiling. “There’s more wool. Football togs have to be better because they get harder use.”

“There you are!” exclaimed Cal, in triumph. Russell noted that Coolidge and Greenwood were observing him with new interest.

“I still maintain,” said Jimmy, with great dignity, “that one of the suits you fellows wear costs more than my football outfit. I got my jersey for nothing, from a chap who was leaving school – ”

“It looks it,” breathed Coolidge.

“That’s not the point,” said Cal. “Every one knows you’re such a miser you wouldn’t buy anything. We were discussing new uniforms, and Emerson says himself – ”

“Say, Emerson, what’s a hockey shirt w-w-worth?” asked Bob Coolidge.

“I can’t say. We haven’t stocked any yet. I’ll find out for you, though, if you want me to.”

Coolidge shook his head. “Thanks, no, it doesn’t matter. I just wondered.”

“Bet you Rus can sell you shirts and whole outfits, too, for that matter, less than you paid for them last year,” announced Jimmy. “You fellows always get stuck when you send to New York.”

“It’s not my funeral,” said Greenwood, with a shrug. “Let the manager worry.”

Coolidge, however, seemed impressed. “I don’t know about that, B-B-Bob,” he said earnestly. “We’d ought to get th-th-things as cheap as p-p-p-possible.”

“You ought, but you don’t,” jeered Jimmy. “You pay any price you’re asked, and then go broke before the end of the season and have to dig into the old Ath. Com. stocking. Say, why don’t you give Emerson a chance this year? Let him bid on the stuff. Might as well hand the profit to one of our own crowd as send it on to some guy you don’t know in New York. That applies to you, too, Cal.”

Cal pursed his lips. “Why, we usually buy a goodish lot, Jimmy; new uniforms all through, bats, balls, a raft of stuff; I’m afraid Emerson couldn’t handle our business.”

“Why couldn’t he?” demanded Jimmy. “Of course he could, you chump! Besides, the uniforms would fit a blamed sight better than they did last year if he took the fellows’ measurements. This thing of sending the size of your waist and the number collar you wear and expecting to get a decently fitting suit gets my goat! And as for your bats and all the other lumber you have to have to play your absurd game, why, Emerson could sell you those better and cheaper than the New York folks, I’ll bet. Besides, you could see what you were getting, which is something you don’t do now.”

“Well, I’m not throwing off on Emerson,” replied Cal, throwing a kindly glance toward that youth, “but, unless I’m mistaken, Jimmy, they tried getting their outfits here in town several years ago and it didn’t work. If I were – ”