Four Afoot: Being the Adventures of the Big Four on the Highway. Barbour Ralph Henry

got through one year, you’d find a way to get through the next. Lots of fellows pretty near work their way through school. Look here, Jerry, supposing I wanted to write to you, where could I direct a letter?”

      “Dad gets his mail at Bakerville. I guess if you wrote my name and his name and sent it to Bakerville, I’d get it. I – I’d like first rate to get a letter from you. I ain’t never got very many letters.”

      “Well, I’ll write you one,” said Nelson cheerfully. “I shall want to know how you’re getting along, so you must answer it. Will you?”

      Jerry reddened under his tan.

      “I guess so,” he muttered. “But I ain’t much of a writer. You see, I ain’t never seemed to have much time for writin’.”

      “Of course not! But don’t let that trouble you. All ready, you fellows? Well, good-by, Jerry. We’re awfully much obliged to you. Hope we’ll see you again. And don’t forget that you’re going to make some money and enter Hillton.”

      Jerry shook hands embarrassedly with each of the four and followed them down to the road.

      “Good-by,” he called. “I wish you’d all come again. You been good to tell me about them schools. I – I had a mighty good time!”

      They walked on in silence for some distance. Then, when the corner of the hotel had disappeared around a turn of the road, Tom broke out explosively.

      “It’s a mu-mu-mu-mean sh-shame!” he said.

      “What is?” they asked in chorus.

      “Why, that fellow bu-bu-back there. He’d give his skin to gu-gu-gu-go to school, and instead of that he’ll have to stay there in that pu-pu-place all his life!”

      “That’s so, Tommy,” said Bob. “It is hard luck. And he’s a good fellow, too, Jerry is. Take those overalls off him, and put some decent clothes on him, and he’d be a good-looking chap.”

      “Yes, and he’s built well too,” added Dan. “He’d make the varsity eleven first pop.”

      “He’s the sort of chap who’d be popular, I think,” said Nelson. “I wish – ”

      “What do you wish?” asked Dan.

      “I wish we could help him.”

      There was an instant’s silence. Then Tommy fell over a stone and began to stutter violently.

      “Lu-lu-lu-lu-lu – ” sputtered Tommy.

      “Easy there,” cautioned Dan. “You’ll blow up in a minute.”

      “Lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu – ”

      “Shut up, you fellows,” said Dan indignantly, “and hear what he has to say. It’s going to be great!”

      “Lu-lu-lu-let’s!”

      “Eh?”

      “How’s that, Tommy?”

      “Once more, please.”

      “Lu-lu-lu-let’s!” repeated Tom, very red of face.

      “Oh, of course!”

      “Twice that, Tommy!”

      “Let’s what?”

      “Lu-let’s help him!”

      “Oh! I’d forgotten what we were talking about,” said Dan.

      “Yes, that was about half a mile back,” said Bob.

      “Let’s see if we can’t make up enough to send him to Hillton for a year,” went on Tommy. “He’d probably get a scholarship, and then if he found some work there, he’d make out all right the next year.”

      “You’ve got a good heart, Tommy,” said Dan. “It’s a shame you don’t go to a decent school.”

      Tom took no notice of the insult.

      “Couldn’t we, Bob?” he asked.

      “I don’t see how we could do it ourselves,” answered the older boy. “But we might get some one interested in him.”

      “Three hundred isn’t awfully much,” said Nelson thoughtfully. “If we got our folks to give a fourth – ”

      “That’s it!” cried Tom. “My dad will give a fourth. Why, it would be only seventy-five dollars!”

      “A mere nothing,” murmured Dan. “One moment, please, and I will draw a check.” He flourished his hand through the air. “‘Pay to Jerry seventy-five and no one-hundredths dollars. Daniel H. F. Speede.’ There you are. Oh, not a word, I beg of you! It is nothing, nothing at all! A mere trifle!”

      “And I think I can promise for my father,” Nelson was saying. “How about you, Bob?”

      “I’ll ask. I think he will give it, although I can’t say sure. He’s had hard luck lately.”

      “You’re in it, aren’t you, Dan?”

      “Not a cent will I allow my father to pay to send a chap to Hillton,” answered Dan indignantly. “If he wants to go to St. Eustace, now, why – ”

      “But you see, Dan,” said Tom sweetly, “he wants an education.”

      Dan chased Tom down the road and administered proper punishment. When order was restored the four discussed the matter seriously, and it was decided that Jerry was to go to Hillton.

      “Of course,” said Nelson, “he couldn’t pass the entrance exams as he is now, but if he has a year’s schooling this year he ought to make it all right. And if he doesn’t have to work he can go to school. I suppose there’s a decent school around here somewhere?”

      “Plenty of them,” answered Dan indignantly.

      “If he needs some coaching next summer,” said Tom, “I’ll see that he gets it.”

      “You might coach him yourself, Tommy,” suggested Dan.

      “He said he was sixteen now,” pondered Bob. “That would make him seventeen when he entered. Rather old for the junior class, eh?”

      “What of it?” asked Nelson. “I’ll see that he knows some good fellows, and I don’t believe any chap’s going to make fun of him when they know about him. Besides, maybe we can get him into the lower middle class.”

      “That’s so,” said Tom. “Anyway, I’ll bet he’s the sort that can learn fast and remember things. Wish I could.”

      “Here’s a romantic-looking well,” said Dan, “and I’m thirsty. That bacon was a trifle salt. Let’s go in and interview the old oaken bucket.”

      The well stood in front of a little white house, and as they went up the walk a woman put her head around the corner of the open door. Dan doffed his cap gallantly.

      “May we borrow a drink of water?” he asked politely.

      The woman nodded and smiled, and Tom began winding the old-fashioned windlass. When the bucket – which turned out to be tin instead of oak – made its appearance the four dipped their cups.

      “Fellow tramps,” declaimed Dan, “let us drink a health to Jerry. May he be a credit to Hillton!”

      “May our plans succeed,” added Nelson.

      “Here’s to Ju-ju-Jerry!” cried Tom.

      “To our protégé!” laughed Bob.

      “To our protégé!” they echoed, and drank merrily.

      CHAPTER IV

      INTRODUCES MR. WILLIAM HOOPER AND AN IMPROMPTU SUPPER

      By the time they had regained the Jericho road they had walked nearly twelve miles, and it was close to six o’clock. It had been slow going for the last two hours, for the distance had begun to tell on them, especially on Dan and Tom. Nelson and Bob, who had been at Camp Chicora for ten weeks, were in