THE VARMINT 
 
Lawrenceville Stories 
 
 THE PRODIGIOUS HICKEY 
 THE VARMINT 
 THE TENNESSEE SHAD 
 SKIPPY BEDELLE 
 
 STOVER AT YALE 
 THE WASTED GENERATION 
 BLUE BLOOD 
 CHILDREN OF DIVORCE 
 
I 
 
 . 
 
 LIKE MY JIBS?" SAID STOVER 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 A LAWRENCEVILLE STORY 
 
 BY 
 
 OWEN JOHNSON 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE TENNESSEE SHAD," "STOVER 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 F. R. GRUGER 
 
 MOM- KEFEKT 
 
 BOSTON 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 
 
 1935 
 
Copyright, 1910, 
 BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
TO 
 
 Eamfcert, jifl. 
 
 IN FRIENDSHIP, IN GRATITUDE, 
 AND IN MEMORY OF MY WIFE. 
 
 913791 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 OPPOSITE 
 PACK 
 
 " LIKE MY JIBS?" SAID STOVER .... Frontispiece 
 
 * WHY, SOME OF EM ARE SO SLICK .... I LOCK 
 
 UP THE CASH DRAWER" 54 
 
 <l CRACKY, WHAT A PRIZE! SAY, I D LIKE TO 
 
 MAKE A BID MYSELF " ....... 70 
 
 " BEHIND HIM, PELLMELL, SHRIEKING AND MUR 
 DEROUS .... CAME THE VANQUISHED . . 86 
 
 ( * EACH MEMBER OF THE OUTRAGED NINE CLIMBED 
 
 TO THE TRANSOM" ....... 88 
 
 " NOTHING IN YOUR CAREER HAS INDICATED TO ME 
 
 YOUR FITNESS FOR SUCH A RESPONSIBILITY" 344 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 When young Stover disembarked at the Tren 
 ton station on the fourth day after the opening 
 of the spring term he had acquired in his brief 
 journey so much of the Pennsylvania rolling 
 stock as could be detached and concealed. In 
 serted between his nether and outer shirts were 
 two gilt " Directions to Travelers " which clung 
 like mustard plasters to his back, while a jagged 
 tin sign, wrenched from the home terminal, 
 embraced his stomach with the painful tenacity 
 of the historic Spartan fox. In his pockets 
 were objects small objects but precious and 
 dangerous to unscrew and acquire. 
 
 Being forced to wait, he sat now, preternatu- 
 rally stiff, perched on a heap of trunks, clutch 
 ing a broken dress-suit case which had been 
 re-enforced with particolored strings. 
 
 There was about young Stover, when properly 
 washed, a certain air of cherubim that instantly 
 struck the observer; his tousled tow hair had a 
 cathedral tone, his cheek was guileless and hia 
 big blue eyes had an upward cast toward the 
 angels which, as in the present moment w r hen he 
 [11] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 was industriously exchanging a check labeled 
 Baltimore to a trunk bound for Jersey City, 
 was absolutely convincing. But from the limit 
 whence the cherub continueth not the imp 
 began. His collar was crumpled and smutty 
 with the descent of many signs, a salmon-pink 
 necktie had quarreled with a lavender shirt 
 and retreated toward one ear, one cuff had 
 broken loose and one sulked up the sleeve. His 
 green serge pockets bulged in every direction, 
 while the striped blue-and-white trousers, al 
 ready outgrown, stuck to the knees and halted 
 short of a pair of white socks that in turn dis 
 appeared into a pair of razor-pointed patent- 
 leathers. 
 
 Young Stover s career at Miss WandelPs 
 Select Academy for boys and girls had been a 
 tremendous success, for it had ended in a frank 
 confession on Miss WandelPs part that her 
 limited curriculum was inadequate for the ab 
 normal activities of dangerous criminals. 
 
 As Stover completed the transfer of the last 
 trunk-checks the stage for Lawrenceville 
 plodded cumbrously up, and from the box 
 Jimmy hailed him. 
 
 "Eh, there, young Sporting Life, bound for 
 Lawrenceville? Step lively." 
 
 Stover swung up, gingerly pushing ahead of 
 him! the battered bag. 
 
 [12] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Lawrenceville? " said the driver, looking at 
 it suspiciously. 
 
 " Right the first time." 
 
 " What house? " 
 
 " Oh, the Green will be good enough for me." 
 
 "Well, tuck in above. 
 
 " Thanks, I ll cuddle here," said Stover, slip 
 ping into the seat next to him, "just to look 
 over the way you handle the ribbons and see if 
 I approve." 
 
 Jimmy, connoisseur of new arrivals, glanced 
 behind at the only other passenger, a man of 
 consular mould, and then looked at Stover in 
 sardonic amusement. 
 
 " Don t look at me like that, old Sport," said 
 Stover impressively ; " I ve driven real coaches, 
 sixteen horses, rip-snorters, and all that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 Jimmy, having guided the placid animals 
 through the labyrinths of Trenton, gave them 
 the rein on the long highway that leads to Law 
 renceville and turned to examine Stover with 
 new relish. 
 
 " Say, Bub," he said at length, " you re goin 
 to have a great time at this little backwoods 
 school you re going to enjoy yourself." 
 
 "Think I m fresh, eh?" 
 
 "Fresh?" said Jimmy thoughtfully. "Why, 
 fresh ain t at all the word." 
 [13] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Well, I can take care of myself." 
 
 " What did they fire you for? " said Jimmy, 
 touching up the horses. 
 
 "Who said they fired me?" said Stover, sur 
 prised. 
 
 "Well, what was it?" said Jimmy, disdain 
 ing an explanation. 
 
 "They fired me," said Stover, hesitating a 
 moment "they fired me for trying to kill a 
 man." 
 
 "You don t say so!" 
 
 " I drew a knife on him," said Stover rapidly. 
 " I d a done for him, too, the coward, if they 
 hadn t hauled me off." 
 
 At this there was a chuckle from the passen 
 ger behind who said with great solemnity : 
 
 "Dear me, dear me, a dreadful state of af 
 fairs quite thrilling." 
 
 " I saw red, everything everything red," 
 said Stover, breathing hard. 
 
 "What had he done to you?" said Jimmy, 
 winking at Mr. Hopkins, alias Lucius Cassius, 
 alias The Roman, master of the Latin line and 
 distinguished flunker of boys. 
 
 " He insulted my my mother." 
 
 " Your mother? " 
 
 "She she s dead," said Stover in a stage 
 voice he remembered. 
 
 [14] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 At tliis Jimmy and Mr. Hopkins stopped, gen 
 uinely perplexed, and looked hard at Stover. 
 
 "You don t mean it! Dear me," said The Ro 
 man, hesitating before a possible blunder. 
 
 " It was long ago," said Stover, thrilling with 
 the delight of authorship. " She died in a ship 
 wreck to save me." 
 
 The Roman was nonplussed. There was al 
 ways the possibility that the story might be true. 
 
 "Ah, she gave her life to save yours, eh?" 
 he said encouragingly. 
 
 " Held my head above water, breeches buoy 
 and all that sort of thing," said Stover, remem 
 bering something in Dickens. "I was the only 
 one saved, me and the ship s cat" 
 
 " Well, well," said The Roman, with a return 
 of confidence; "and your father is he alive?" 
 
 " Yes," said Stover, considering the distant 
 woods; "but but we don t speak of him." 
 
 " Ah, pardon me," said The Roman, gazing on 
 him with wonder. " Painful memories of 
 course, of course. And what happened to your 
 brother? 
 
 Stover, perceiving the note of skepticism, 
 turned and looked The Roman haughtily in the 
 face, then, turning to Jimmy, he said in a half 
 whisper : 
 
 " Who s the old buck, anyhow? " 
 [15] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Jimmy stiffened on the box as though he had 
 received an electric shock; then, biting his lips, 
 he answered with a vicious lunge at the horses : 
 
 " Oh, he comes back and forth every now and 
 then." 
 
 They were now in the open country, rolling 
 steadily past fields of sprouting things, with the 
 warm scent of new-plowed earth borne to them 
 on the gentle April breeze. 
 
 All of a sudden Stover seemed to dive side 
 ways from the coach and remained suspended 
 by his razor-tipped patent-leathers. 
 
 " Hi, there ! " cried Jimmy, bringing the coach 
 to a stop with a jerk, " what are you trying to 
 do?" 
 
 Stover reappeared. 
 
 " Seeing if there are any females inside." 
 
 "What s that to you?" said Jimmy indig 
 nantly. 
 
 " Keep your eye peeled and I ll show you," 
 said the urchin, standing up, freeing his belt 
 and unbuttoning his vest. In a moment, by a 
 series of contortions, he drew forth the three 
 signs and proudly displayed them. 
 
 " See these gilt ones," he said confidentially 
 to the astounded Koman, "got em in the 
 open car; stood right up and unscrewed them 
 penal offense, my boy. The tin one was easier, 
 but it s a beaut. No loitering on these prem- 
 [16] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 ises. Cast your eye over that," he added, pass 
 ing it to The Roman, who, as he gravely re 
 ceived it, gave Jimmy a dig that cut short a fit 
 of coughing. 
 
 "Pretty fine, eh?" said Stover. 
 
 " Em, yes, quite extraordinary quite so." 
 
 " And what do you think of these? " continued 
 Stover, producing two silver nickel-plated knobs 
 ravished from the washbasin. " * Pull and 
 Push that s my motto. Say, Bill, how does 
 that strike you? " 
 
 The Roman examined them and handed them 
 back. 
 
 "You ll find it rather rather slow at the 
 school, won t you? " 
 
 " Oh, I ll put ginger into it." 
 
 " Indeed." 
 
 "What s your line of goods, old Sport? " said 
 Stover, examining Mr. Hopkins with a knowing 
 eye. 
 
 " Books," said The Roman with a slight jerk 
 of his thin lips. 
 
 "I see!" 
 
 Jimmy stopped the horses and went behind, 
 ostensibly to see if the door was swinging. 
 
 " Let me drive? " said Stover, fidgeting after 
 a moment s contemplation of Jimmy s method. 
 " I ll show you a thing or two." 
 
 "Oh, you will, will you?" 
 [17] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Let s have em." 
 
 Jimmy looked inquiringly at Mr. Hopkins 
 and, receiving a nod, transferred the reins and 
 whip to Stover, who immediately assumed a 
 Wild West attitude and said patronizingly: 
 
 " Say, you don t get the speed out of em." 
 
 "I don t, eh?" 
 
 " Naw." 
 
 They were at that moment reaching the brink 
 of a hill, with a sharp though short descent be 
 low. 
 
 " In my country," said Stover professionally, 
 " we call a man who uses a brake a candy dude. 
 The trick is to gallop em down the hills. Hang 
 on!" 
 
 Before he could be stopped he sprang up with 
 an ear-splitting war-whoop and brought the 
 whip down with a stinging blow over the ears 
 of the indignant horses, who plunged forward 
 with a frightened leap. The coach rose and 
 rocked, narrowly missing overturning in its sud 
 den headlong course. Jimmy clamped on the 
 brakes, snatched the reins and brought the 
 plunging team to a stop after narrowly missing 
 the gutter. Stover, saved from a headlong jour 
 ney only by the iron grip of The Roman, had a 
 moment of horrible fear. But immediately re- 
 covering his self-possession he said gruffly: 
 
 "All right, let go of me." 
 [18] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " What in blazes were you trying to do, you 
 young anarchist? " cried Jimmy, turning on him 
 wrath fully. 
 
 " Gee ! Why don t you drive a couple of 
 cows?" said Stover in disgust. "Why, in my 
 parts we alway drive on two wheels." 
 
 " Two wheels ! " said Jimmy scornfully. 
 " Guess you never drove anything that did have 
 four wheels but a baby-buggy." 
 
 But Stover, as though discouraged, disdained 
 to reply, and sat in moody silence. 
 
 The Eoman, who was still interested in a pos 
 sible brother or two, strove in vain to draw him 
 out. Stover wrapped himself in a majestic si 
 lence. Despite himself, the mystery of the dis 
 coverer was upon him. His glance fastened 
 itself on the swelling horizon for the school that 
 suddenly was to appear. 
 
 " How many fellows have you got here? " he 
 said all at once to Jimmy. 
 
 " About four hundred." 
 
 "As much as that?" 
 
 " Sure." 
 
 " Big fellows ? " 
 
 Sizable." 
 
 "How big?" 
 
 " Two-hundred-pounders." 
 
 " When do we see the school ? " 
 
 "Top of next hill." 
 
 [19] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 The Roman watched him from the corner of 
 his eye, interested in his sudden shift of mood. 
 
 "What kind of a football team did they 
 have?" said Stover. 
 
 " Scored on the Princeton Varsity." 
 
 " Jemima ! You don t say so ! " 
 
 " Eight to four." 
 
 " Great Heavens ! " 
 
 " Only game they lost." 
 
 " The Princeton championship team, too," 
 said Stover, who was not deficient in historical 
 athletics. "Say, how s the nine shaping up?" 
 
 " It s a winner." 
 
 All at once Jimmy extended his whip. " There 
 it is, over there you ll get the water tower 
 first." 
 
 Stover stood up reverentially. Across the 
 dip and swell of the hills a cluster of slated 
 roofs, a glimpse of red brick through the trees, 
 a touch of brownstone, a water tower in sharp 
 outline against the sky, suddenly rose from the 
 horizon. A continent had been discovered, the 
 land of possible dreams. 
 
 " It s ripping ripping, isn t it? " he said, still 
 standing eagerly. 
 
 The Roman, gazing on it for the thousandth 
 time, shook his head in musing agreement. 
 
 Across the fields came the stolid ringing of 
 the school bell, ringing a hundred laggards 
 [20] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 across the budding campus to hard seats and 
 blackboarded walls, ringing with its lengthened, 
 iow-dying, never-varying note. 
 
 "That the bell?" said Stover, rebelling al 
 ready at its summons. 
 
 " That s it," said Jimmy. 
 
 Stover sat down, his chin in his hands, his 
 elbows on his knees, gazing eagerly forward, 
 asking questions. 
 
 " I say, whereas the Green House? " 
 
 "Ahead on your left directly." 
 
 " That old, stone, block-house affair? " 
 
 "You win." 
 
 "Why, it s not on the campus." 
 
 "No, it ain t," said Jimmy, flicking the flies 
 off the near horse; "but they ve got a warm 
 bunch of Indians all the same." Then, remem 
 bering the Wild-Western methods of driving, he 
 added : " Don t forget about the ginger. Sock 
 it to them. Fare, please." 
 
 " I ll sock it," said Stover with a knowing air. 
 < I may be tender, but I m not green." 
 
 He slapped a coin into the outstretched hand 
 and reached back for the battle-scarred valise, 
 to perceive the keen eye of Mr. Hopkins set on 
 him with amusement. 
 
 "Well, Sport, ta-ta, and good luck," said 
 Stover, who had mentally ticketed him as a com 
 mercial traveler. " Hope you sell out." 
 
 [31] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 " Thanks," said Mr. Hopkins, with a twitch 
 to his lip. " Now just one word to the wise." 
 
 "What s that?" 
 
 " Don t get discouraged." 
 
 " Discouraged ! " said Stover disdainfully. 
 "Why, old Cocky- wax, put this in your pipe 
 and smoke it I m going to own this house. In 
 a week I ll have em feeding from my hand." 
 
 He sprang down eagerly. Before him, at the 
 end of a flagged walk, under the heavy boughs of 
 evergreens, was a two-story building of stone, 
 and under the Colonial portico a group curiously 
 watching the new arrival. 
 
 The coach groaned and pulled heavily away. 
 He was alone at the end of the interminable 
 stone walk, clutching a broken-down bag ridicu 
 lously mended with strings, face to face with 
 the task of approaching with dignity and ease 
 these suddenly discovered critics of his exist 
 ence. 
 
II 
 
 In all his fifteen years Stover had never been 
 accused of standing in awe of anything or any 
 body ; but at the present mjoment, as he balanced 
 from foot to foot, calculating the unending dis 
 tance of the stone flags, he was suddenly seized 
 with an overpowering impulse to bolt. And yet 
 the group at the steps were only mildly inter 
 ested. An urchin pillowed on the knees of a 
 Goliath had shifted so as languidly to command 
 the approach; a baseball, traveling back and 
 forth in lazy flight, had stopped only a moment, 
 and then continued from hand to hand. 
 
 Stover had thought of his future associates 
 without much trepidation, as he had thought of 
 the Faculty as Miss Wandell in trousers be 
 ing inferior to him in mental agility and re 
 sourcefulness who, he confidently intended, 
 should shortly follow his desires. 
 
 All at once, before he had spoken a word, be 
 fore he had even seen the look on their counte 
 nances, he realized that he stood on the threshold 
 of a new world, a system of society of which he 
 was ignorant and by whose undivined laws he 
 was suddenly to be judged. 
 [23] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Everything was wrong and strangely uncom 
 fortable. His derby hat was too small as it 
 was and must look ridiculous; his trousers 
 were short and his arms seemed to rush from 
 his sleeves. He tried desperately to thrust back 
 the cuff that had broken loose and stooped for 
 his bag. It would have been wiser to have em 
 braced it bodily, but he breathed a prayer and 
 grasped the handle. Then he started up the 
 walk ; half way, the handle tore out and the bag 
 went down w r ith a crash. 
 
 He dove at it desperately, poking back the 
 threatened avalanche of linen, and clutching it 
 in his arms as a bachelor carries a baby, started 
 blindly for the house. 
 
 A roar of laughter had gone up at his dis 
 comfiture, succeeded by a sudden, solemn si- 
 rence. Then the White Mountain Canary pil 
 lowed against the knees of Cheyenne Baxter, 
 spoke : 
 
 "No old clothes, Moses; nothing to sell to 
 day." 
 
 At this Butsey White s lathery face suddenly 
 appeared at the second-story window. 
 
 " He doesn t want to buy he wants to sell us 
 something/ he said. "Patent underwear and 
 all that sort of thing." 
 
 Stover, red to the ears, advanced to the steps 
 and stopped. 
 
 [24] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Well?" said the Coffee-colored Angel as the 
 guardian of the steps. 
 
 " Fm the new boy," said Stover in a gentle 
 voice. 
 
 "The what?" 
 
 "The new boy." 
 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 "He s not!" 
 
 " New boys always say sir, and take off 
 their hats politely." 
 
 The White Mountain Canary looked at Tough 
 McCarty, who solemnly interrogated the Coffee- 
 colored Angel, who shook his head in utter dis 
 belief and said: 
 
 " I don t believe it. It s a blind. I wouldn t 
 let him in the house." 
 
 " Please, sir," said Stover hastily, doffing his 
 derby, " I am." 
 
 " Prove it," said a voice behind him. 
 
 " Say, I m not as green as all that," 
 
 Stover smiled a sickly smile, shifted from foot 
 to foot and glanced hopefully at his fellow-imps 
 to surprise a look of amusement. But as every 
 face remained blank, serious and extremely 
 critical, the smile disappeared in a twinkling 
 and his glance went abruptly to his toes. 
 
 " He certainly should prove it," said the 
 Coffee-colored Angel anxiously. " Can you 
 prove it? " 
 
 [25] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 Stover gingerly placed the gaping valise on 
 the top step and fumbled in his pockets. 
 
 " Please, sir, I have a letter from from the 
 Doctor," he blurted out, finally extracting a 
 crumpled envelope and tendering it to the 
 Coffee-colored Angel, who looked it over with 
 well-simulated surprise and solemnly an 
 nounced : 
 
 " My goodness gracious ! Why, it is the new 
 boy!" 
 
 Instantly there was a change. 
 
 "Freshman, what s your name?" said little 
 Susie Satterly in his deepest tones. 
 
 "Stover." " 
 
 * Sir." 
 
 Sir." 
 
 "What s your full name?" 
 
 "John Humperdink Stover, sir." 
 
 " Humper what? " 
 
 "Dink." 
 
 "Say it again." 
 
 " Humperdink." 
 
 " Say it for me," said the Coffee-colored Angel, 
 with his hand to his ear. 
 
 " Humperdink." 
 
 "Accent the last syllable." 
 
 " Humper DINK ! " 
 
 "Are you trying to bluff us, Freshman? " said 
 Cheyenne Baxter severely. 
 [26] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "No, sir; that s my real name." 
 
 "Humperdink?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, Rinky Dink, you ve got a rotten name. - 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Stover, who never before had 
 felt such a longing to agree. 
 
 "How old?" 
 
 "Fifteen, sir." 
 
 "Weight?" 
 
 " One hundred and thirty, sir." 
 
 "Ever been in love?" 
 
 "No, sir.Y 
 
 "Ever served a penal sentence?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Then where did you get these clothes? " 
 
 The group slowly circulated about the embar 
 rassed Stover, scanning the amazing costume. 
 Cheyenne Baxter took up the inquisition. 
 
 "Say, Dink, honest, are these your own 
 clothes?" he said with a knowing look. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Now, honest," continued Cheyenne in a whis 
 per, bending forward and putting his hand to 
 his ear as though inviting a confidence. 
 
 Stover felt suddenly as though his own ears 
 were swelling to alarming proportions swelling 
 and perceptibly reddening. 
 
 "What do they feed you on, Rinky Dink?" 
 said the White Mountain Canary softly. 
 [27] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Feed? " said Stover unwarily, not perceiving 
 the intent of the question. 
 
 " Do they give you many green vegetables? " 
 
 Stover tried to laugh appreciatively, but the 
 sound fizzled dolefully out. 
 
 "Because, Dink," said the White Mountain 
 Canary earnestly, " you must not eat green vege 
 tables, really you must not* You re green 
 enough already." 
 
 "Why did they fire you?" said Tough Me- 
 Carty. 
 
 Stover raised his eyes instinctively. There 
 was a new accent to the inquisition, different 
 from all the other questions, he had run. He 
 looked at Tough McCarty s stocky frame and bat 
 tling eyes, and suddenly knew that he was face 
 to face with a human being between whom and 
 himself there could never be a question of com 
 promise or quarter. 
 
 "Well, Freshman," said McCarty impatiently. 
 
 "What did you ask me? " said Dink purposely. 
 
 " Sir." 
 
 " Sir." 
 
 "What did they fire you for?" 
 
 " They fired me," began Stover slowly, and 
 then stopped to reconsider. The story he had 
 told on the coach, somehow, did not seem quite 
 in place here. The role of firebrand and hot 
 head, drawing villainous knives on frightened 
 [28] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 boys, would not quite convince his present audi 
 ence. To tell the truth was impossible to ad 
 mit himself the product of Miss Wandell s and 
 coeducation would be fatal and likewise the 
 truth was, in his philosophy (and be this re 
 membered), only a lazy expedient to a man of 
 imagination. So he said slowly: 
 
 " They fired me for bringing in a couple of 
 rattlesnakes and and assaulting a teacher." 
 
 " My! You are a bad man, aren t you? " said 
 Tough McCarty seriously. " I m afraid you re 
 too dangerous for the Green, Dink. Really I 
 do." 
 
 " He does look devilishly wicked, Tough." 
 
 "Assaulting a teacher how broo-tal." 
 
 "Why, Rinky Dink," said the Coffee-colored 
 Angel sadly, " don t you know that was very 
 wicked of you? You should love your teach 
 ers." 
 
 Stover suddenly perceived that his audience 
 was unsympathetic. 
 
 " Don t you know you should love your teach 
 ers?" 
 
 Stover essayed a grin, then looked at the 
 ground and stirred up a stone with his foot. 
 
 "So you re fond of rattlesnakes?" said Me* 
 Carty, persisting. 
 
 Ye-es, sir." 
 4 "Very fond?" 
 
 [29] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "I was brought up with them," said Stover, 
 trying to fortify his position. 
 
 " You Son t mean it," said McCarty, looking 
 hard at Baxter. " Cheyenne, he s just the man 
 to train up that little pet rattler of yours." 
 
 "Just the thing," said Cheyenne instantly; 
 "we ll let him take out the fangs." 
 
 Stover smiled a superior smile; he was not to 
 be caught on such tales. 
 
 "What are you smiling at, Freshman?" said 
 McCarty immediately. 
 
 "Nothing, sir." 
 
 Butsey White, at the second-story window, 
 scanning the road, perceived Mr. Jenkins ap 
 proaching, and announced the fact, adding: 
 
 " Send him up ; he belongs to me." 
 
 " Make a nice b^w, Freshman," said McCarty. 
 " Take your hat off, keep your heels together. 
 Oh, that wasn t a very nice bow. Try again." 
 
 At this moment Jimmy, returning on the stage, 
 reined in with a sudden interest. Stover hastily 
 executed a series of grotesque inclinations and, 
 grasping the clumsy valise, disappeared behind 
 the door, hearing, as he struggled up the stairs, 
 the roar from without that greeted his depar 
 ture. 
 
 " The freshest of the fresh." 
 
 "Green all over." 
 
 "Will we tame him?" 
 [30] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Oh, no!" 
 
 "And Butsey s got him." 
 
 " Humper DINK ! " 
 
 "Wow!" 
 
 As Stover reached the head of the stairs a door 
 was thrown open and Butsey White appeared in 
 undress uniform. The next moment Stover 
 found himself in a large double room gorgeously 
 decorated with flags, pennants, sporting prints 
 and souvenirs, while through the open window 
 came a grateful feeling of quiet and repose. 
 
 Butsey White, a roly-poly, comical fellow of 
 sixteen or seventeen, with a shaving-brush in 
 one hand, held out the other with an expression 
 of lathery solicitude. 
 
 "Well, Stover, how are you? How did you 
 leave mother and the chickens? My name s 
 White. Mr. White, please. I m most particu 
 lar." 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. White?" said Stover, 
 recovering some of his composure. 
 
 " There s your kennel," said Butsey White, 
 indicating the bed. "The washtrough s over 
 here. Bath s down the corridor. Do you 
 snore? " 
 
 "What?" said Stover, taken back. 
 
 "Oh, never mind. If you do 111 cure you," 
 said White encouragingly. " What did they fire 
 you for? " 
 
 [311 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover, smarting at his humiliation below, 
 seized the opportunity for revenge. 
 
 " They fired me for drinking the alcohol out 
 of the lamps," he said with his most convincing 
 smile. 
 
 Butsey White, who had returned to the pain 
 ful task of shaving, suddenly straightened up 
 and extended the deadly razor in angry rebuke. 
 
 "There s a little too much persiflage around 
 here," he said sternly. " We don t like it. We 
 prefer to see young, unripe freshmen come in on 
 their tiptoes and answer when they re spoken 
 to. Young Stover, you ve got in wrong. You re 
 just about the freshest cargo we ve ever had. 
 You ve got a lot to learn, and I m going to start 
 right in educating you. Savez? " 
 
 "It was only a joke," said Stover, looking 
 down. 
 
 "A joke! I ll attend to any joking around 
 here," said Butsey, with a reckless wave of his 
 razor. "There may be a few patent, nickel- 
 plated jokes roaming around here, soon, you 
 hadn t thought of. Now, what did they fire you 
 for? 
 
 " They fired me for kissing a teacher." 
 
 A teacher?" 
 
 " The drawing teacher," said Stover hastily, 
 perceiving the danger of the new assertion. 
 
 The old boy looked at him hard, gave a sort 
 [32] 
 
THE VARMINT v 
 
 of grunt and, turning his back, took up again 
 the interrupted task of shaving. Stover, a little 
 dismayed at his own audacity, sought to concili 
 ate his future roommate. 
 
 "Mister White, I say, where ll I stow my 
 duds? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " I m sorry I didn t mean to be fresh. Which 
 is my bureau?" 
 
 The razor, suddenly extended, pointed between 
 the windows. Stover, crestfallen, hastily sorted 
 out the contents of his bag and silently ranged 
 collars and neckties, waiting hopefully for a 
 word. Suddenly he remembered the properties 
 of the Pennsylvania Railroad and, sorting out 
 the signs, he advanced on Butsey White, say 
 ing: 
 
 " I brought these along thought they might 
 help decorate the room, Mr. White." 
 
 Butsey W^hite gazed at the three stolen signs 
 and grunted a somewhat mollified approval. 
 
 "Got anything else?" 
 
 "A couple of sporting prints coming in the 
 trunk, sir." 
 
 " You want to get everything you can lay your 
 hands on when you go home. Now run on down 
 and report to Fuzzy- Wuzzy Mr, Jenkins. He ll 
 be waiting for you. After lunch I ll take you 
 up to the village and fit you out." 
 [33] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " I say, that s awfully good of you." 
 
 Oh, that s all right," 
 
 " Say, I didn t mean to be fresh." 
 
 "Well, you were,, 9 
 
 White, having carefully noted the ravages of 
 the razor, turned from the looking-glass and sur* 
 veyed the penitent Stover. 
 
 "Well, what did they fire you for?" he said 
 point-blank. 
 
 " They fired me began Stover slowly, and 
 
 stopped. 
 
 " Out with it, 5? said Butsey militantly. 
 
 But at that moment the voice of Mr. Jenkins 
 summoned Stover below, and left the great ques 
 tion unanswered. 
 
 [34] 
 
Ill 
 
 The interview with the house master was not 
 trying. Mr. Jenkins was a short, fuzzy little 
 man, who looked him over with nervous concern, 
 calculating what new strain on his temper had 
 arrived; introduced him to Mrs. Jenkins, and 
 seized the occasion of the luncheon-bell to cut 
 short the conversation. 
 
 At lunch Stover committed an unpardonable 
 error which only those who have suffered can 
 understand he sent his plate up for a second 
 helping of prunes. 
 
 " What in the name of peanuts did you do 
 that for?" said Butsey in a whisper, while the 
 Coffee-colored Angel jabbed him with his elbow 
 and trod on his toes. " Now you have put your 
 foot in it ! " 
 
 Stover looked up to behold every countenance 
 grim and outraged. 
 
 "What s wrong?" he said in a whisper. 
 
 "Wrong? Didn t you ever have prunes and 
 skimmed milk before, thousands and thousands 
 of times?" 
 
 "Yes, but " 
 
 "You don t like em, do you?" 
 
 "Why, I don t know." 
 [35] 
 
THE VAEMINT 
 
 " Do you want to have them five times a week 
 in springtime?" 
 
 The plate, bountifully helped, returned from 
 hand to hand down the table, laden with prunes 
 and maledictions. 
 
 " I didn t know," Stover said apologetically. 
 
 " Well, now you know," said the Coffee-colored 
 Angel vindictively, " don t you so much as stir 
 ? em with your spoon. Don t you dare ! " 
 
 Stover, being thus forbidden, calmly, wickedly, 
 chuckling inwardly, emptied his plate, smacked 
 his lips and exclaimed: 
 
 "My! those are delicious. Pass my plate up 
 for some more, will you, Mr. White? " 
 
 "Now, why did you do that?" said Butsey 
 White when they were alone in their room. 
 
 " I couldn t help it. I just couldn t help it/ 1 
 said Stover ruthfully. " It was such a joke ! " 
 
 "Not from you," said Butsey White with 
 Eoman dignity. " You ve got the whole darn 
 house down on you already, and the Coffee-col 
 ored Angel will never forgive you." 
 
 "Just for that?" 
 
 Butsey White disdained an answer. Instead, 
 he scanned Stover s clothes with critical dis 
 favor. 
 
 " Say, if I m going to lead you around by the 
 hand you ve got to come down on that color 
 scheme of yours, or it s no go." 
 [36] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover, surprised, surveyed himself in the mir 
 ror. 
 
 " Why, I thought that pretty fine." 
 
 " Say, have you got a pair of trousers that s 
 related to a coat? " 
 
 Stover dove into the trunk and produced a 
 blue suit that passed the censor, who had in the 
 meanwhile confiscated the razor-tipped patent- 
 leathers and the red-visored cap, saying: 
 
 " Now you ll sink into the landscape and won t 
 annoy the cows. Stick on this cap of mine 
 and hoof it; you re due at the Doctor s in half 
 an hour, and I promised old Fuzzy-Wuzzy to 
 show you the lay of the land and give you some 
 pointers." 
 
 Outside, Cheyenne Baxter, who w r as pitching 
 curves to Tough McCarty, stopped them : 
 
 " Hello, there, Rinky Dink : turn up here sharp 
 at four o clock." 
 
 " What for sir " said Stover, surprised. 
 
 "We ve got a game on with the Cleve. Play 
 baseball?" 
 
 " I I m a little out of practice," said Stover, 
 who loathed the game. 
 
 "Can t help it; you re it. You play in the 
 field. Four o clock sharp." 
 
 " You re the ninth man in the house," Butsey 
 explained as they started for the school. " Every 
 one has to play. Are vou any good?" 
 [37] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover was tempted to let his imagination run, 
 but the thought of the afternoon curbed it. 
 
 " Oh, I used to be pretty fair," he said half 
 heartedly, plunging into the distant past. 
 
 But Stover had no desire to talk; he felt the 
 thrill of strange sensations. Scarcely did he 
 heed the chatter of his guide that rattled on. 
 
 The road lay straight and cool under the min 
 gled foliage of the trees. Ahead, groups of boys 
 crossed and recrossed in lazy saunterings. 
 
 " There s the village," said Butsey, extending 
 his hand to the left. " First bungalow is Mister 
 Laloo s, buggies and hot dogs. There s Bill 
 Appleby s say, he s a character, rolling in 
 money we ll drop in to see him. Firmin s 
 store s next and the Jigger Shop s at the end." 
 
 " The Jigger Shop ! " said Stover, mystified. 
 "What s that?" 
 
 " Where they make Jiggers, of course." 
 
 "Jiggers?" 
 
 " Oh, my beautiful stars, think of eating your 
 first Jigger ! " said Butsey White, the man of 
 the world. "What wouldn t I give to be in 
 your shoes! I say, though, you ve got some 
 tin?" 
 
 " Sure," said Stover, sounding the coins in his 
 change pocket. 
 
 Butsey s face brightened. 
 
 " You see, Al has no confidence in me just at 
 [38] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 present. It s a case of the regular table d hote 
 for me until the first of the month. Say, we ll 
 have a regular goijge. It ll be fresh strawberry 
 Jiggers, too." 
 
 They began to pass other fellows in flannels 
 and jerseys, who exchanged greetings. 
 
 " Hello, you, Butsey ! " 
 
 "Why, Egghead, howdy-do?" 
 
 " Ah, there, Butsey White ! " 
 
 "Ta-ta, Saphead." 
 
 " See you later, old Sport." 
 
 "Four o clock sharp, Texas." 
 
 Under the trees, curled in the grass, a group of 
 three were languidly working out a Greek trans 
 lation. 
 
 " Skin your eyes, Dink," said Butsey White, 
 waving a greeting as they passed. " See the fel 
 low this side? That s Flash Condit." 
 
 " The fellow who scored on the Princeton 
 Varsity?" 
 
 "Oh, you knew, did you?" 
 
 "Sure," said Stover with pride. "Gee, what 
 a peach of a build ! " 
 
 "Turn to your left," said Butsey suddenly. 
 "Here s Foundation House, where the Doctor 
 lives. Just look at that doorway. Wouldn t it 
 give you the chills?" 
 
 They were in front of a red-brick house, hid 
 den under dark trees and overgrown with vines 
 [39] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 that congregated darkly over the porte-cochere 
 and gave the entrance a mysterious gloom that 
 still lives in the memory of the generations. 
 
 " It swallows you up, doesn t it? " said Dink, 
 awed. 
 
 " You bet it does, and it s worse inside," said 
 Butsey comfortingly. " Come on ; now I ll show 
 you the real thing." 
 
 They passed the surrounding trees and sud 
 denly halted. Before them the campus burst 
 upon them. 
 
 "Well, Dink, what do you think of that?" 
 said Butsey proudly. 
 
 Stover plunged his hands in his trousers 
 pockets and gazed awed. Before him extended 
 an immense circle of greensward, dotted on the 
 edge with apple trees in blossom, under which 
 groups of boys were lolling, or tumbling over one 
 another in joyous cublike romping. To the left, 
 across the circle, half a dozen red-coated, slate- 
 topped, portly houses, overgrown with ivy, were 
 noisy with urchins hanging out of myriad win 
 dows, grouped on steps, chasing one another in 
 twisting spirals over the lawns. Ahead, a mas 
 sive brownstone chapel with pointed tower rose 
 up, and to its right, in mathematical bulk, was 
 the abode of Greek and Latin roots, syntax and 
 dates, of blackboards, hard seats and the despot 
 ism of the Faculty. To the right, close at hand, 
 
 [40] 
 
THE YARMINT 
 
 was a large three-storied building with wonder- 
 ful dormer windows tucked under the slanted 
 slate roof, and below w r as a long stone esplanade, 
 black with the grouped figures of giants. At 
 the windows, propped on sofa cushions, chin in 
 hand some few conned the approaching lesson, 
 softening the task by moments of dreamy con 
 templation of the scuffle below or stopping to 
 catch a tennis ball that traveled from the 
 esplanade to the window. Meanwhile, a con 
 stant buzz of inquiry and exclamation con 
 tinued : 
 
 "Say, Bill, how far s the advance?" 
 
 " Middle page ninety- two." 
 
 " Gee, what a lesson ! " 
 
 "You bet it s tough!" 
 
 " Hi, there, give me a catch." 
 
 " Look out ! Biff ! " 
 
 "Oh, you, Jack Eabbit, come up and give me 
 the advance ! " 
 
 " Can t. I m taking my chances. Get hold of 
 Skinny." 
 
 " What time s practice? " 
 
 "That s the Upper House, House of Lords, 
 Abode of the Blessed," said Butsey with envious 
 eyes. " That s where we ll land when we re fifth- 
 formers govern yourself, no lights, go to the 
 village any time, and all that sort of thing. 
 Say ! " He swept the circle comprehensively 
 [41] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 with his arm. "What do you think of it? 
 Pretty fine, eh what?" 
 
 " Gee ! " said Stover with difficulty, then after 
 a moment he blurted out : " It s it s terrific ! " 
 
 " Oh, that s not all ; there s the Hammil House 
 in the village and the Davis and Rouse up the 
 street. The baseball fields are past the chapel." 
 
 "Why, it s like a small college," said Stover, 
 whose gaze returned to the giants on the espla 
 nade. 
 
 "Huh!" said Butsey in sovereign contempt. 
 " We ll wipe up anything in the shape of a small 
 college that comes around here! Do you want 
 to toddle around the circle? " 
 
 " Oh, Lord, no ! " said Stover, cold at the 
 thought of running the inspection of hundreds 
 of eyes. "Besides, I ve got to see the Doctor." 
 
 " All right. Stand right up to him now. 
 Don t get scared," said Butsey, choosing the one 
 method to arouse all latent fears. 
 
 "What s he like?" said Stover, biting his 
 nails. 
 
 "There s nothing like him," said Butsey remi- 
 niscently. " He s got an eye that gives you the 
 creeps. He knows everything that goes on 
 everything." 
 
 Stover began to whistle, keeping an eye on 
 the windows as they approached. 
 
 "Well, ta-ta! I ll hang out at Laloo s for 
 [42] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 you," said Butsey, loping off. " Say, by the 
 way, look out he s a crackerjack boxer." 
 
 Stover, like ^Eneas at the gates of Avernus, 
 stood under the awful portals, ruminating un 
 easily on Butsey s last remark. There certainly 
 was something dark and terrifying about the 
 place, that cast cold shadows over the cheery 
 April day. Then the door opened, he gave his 
 name in blundering accents to the butler, and 
 found himself in the parlor sitting bolt-upright 
 on the edge of a gilded chair. The butler re 
 turned, picking up his steps and, after whisper 
 ing that the Doctor would see him presently, 
 departed, stealing noiselessly away. Abandoned 
 to the classic stillness, nothing in the room re 
 assured him. The carpets were soft, drowning 
 out the sounds of human feet; the walls and 
 corridors seemed horribly stilled, as if through 
 them no human cry might reach the outer air. 
 All about were photographs of broken columns 
 cold, rigid, ruined columns, faintly discerned 
 in the curtained light of the room. The Doctor s 
 study was beyond, through the door by which 
 the butler had passed. Stover s glance was riv 
 eted on it, trying to remember whether the 
 American Constitution prohibited head masters 
 from the brutal English practice of caning and 
 birching; and, listening to the lagging tick of 
 the mantel clock, he solemnly vowed to lead that 
 [43] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 upright, impeccable life that would keep him 
 from such another soul-racking visit. 
 
 The door opened and the Doctor appeared, 
 holding out his hand. 
 
 Stover hastily sprang up, found himself actu 
 ally shaking hands and mumbling something 
 futile and idiotic. Then he was drawn to the 
 horror of horrors, and the door shut out all re 
 treat. 
 
 "Well, John, how do you like the school?" 
 
 Stover, more terrified by this mild beginning 
 than if the Doctor had produced a bludgeon 
 from behind his back, stammered out that he 
 thought the buildings were handsome, very hand 
 some. 
 
 " It s a pretty big place," said the Doctor, 
 throwing his nervous little body back in an easy 
 chair and studying the four-hundred-and-second 
 problem of the year. " You ll find a good deal 
 in it a great many interests." 
 
 "He certainly has a wicked eye," thought 
 Stover, watching with fascination the glance 
 that confronted him like a brace of pistols sud 
 denly extended from under shaggy bushes. 
 "Now he s sizing me up wonder if he knows 
 all?" 
 
 "Well, John, what was the trouble?" said the 
 Doctor from his easy, reclining position. 
 
 "The trouble, sir? Oh," said Stover, sitting 
 [44] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 bolt-upright with every sinew stiffened. " You 
 mean why they fired why they expelled me, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Yes, why did they fire you? " said the Doctor, 
 trying to descend. 
 
 " For getting caught, sir." 
 
 The Doctor gazed at him sharply, seeking to 
 determine whether the answer was from imperti 
 nence or fright or a precocious judgment of the 
 morals of the nation. Then he smiled and said : 
 
 "Well, what was it?" 
 
 " Please, sir, I put asafetida in the furnace," 
 said Stover in frightened tones. 
 
 " You put asafetida down the furnace? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "That was a very brilliant idea, wasn t it?" 
 
 "No, sir," said Stover, drawing a long breath 
 and wondering if he could possibly stay after 
 such a confession. 
 
 "Why did you do it?" 
 
 Stover hesitated,, and suddenly, yielding to an 
 unaccountable impulse toward the truth that 
 occasionally surprised him, blurted out: 
 
 " I did it to make trouble, sir." 
 
 "You didn t like the school?" 
 
 " I hated it ! There were a lot of girls 
 around." 
 
 "Well, John," said the Doctor with heroic 
 seriousness, "it may be that you didn t have 
 [45] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 enough to do. You have evidently an active 
 brain perhaps imagination would be a fitter 
 word. As I said, you ll find this a pretty big 
 place, just the sort of opening an ambitious boy 
 should delight in. You ll find here all sorts of 
 boys boys that count, boys you respect and 
 want to respect you, and then there are other 
 boys who will put asafetida in the furnace if you 
 choose to teach them chemistry." 
 
 " Oh, no, sir," said Stover, all in a gasp. 
 
 " Your parents think you are hard to man 
 age," said the Doctor, with the wisp of a smile. 
 " I don t. Go out ; make some organization ; rep 
 resent us ; make us proud of you ; count for some 
 thing! And remember one thing: if you want 
 to set fire to Memorial Hall or to dynamite this 
 study do it because you want to, and not because 
 some other fellow puts it into your head. Stand 
 on your own legs." The Doctor rose and ex 
 tended his hand cordially. "Of course, I shall 
 have my eye on you." 
 
 Stover, dumbfounded, rose as though on 
 springs. The Doctor, noticing his amazement, 
 said: 
 
 "Well, what is it?" 
 
 " Please, sir is that all? " 
 
 " That s all," said the Doctor seriously. 
 
 Stover drew a long breath, shook hands pre 
 cipitately and escaped. 
 
 " [46] 
 
IV 
 
 The spell was still on him as he stumbled over 
 the resounding steps. But, twenty feet from 
 the door, the spirit of irreverence overtook him. 
 Then, at the thought of the waiting Butsey, he 
 began to pipe forth voluminously the martial 
 strains of Sherman s March to the Sea, kicking 
 enormous pebbles victoriously before him. 
 
 Butsey White, sitting on the doorstep of La- 
 loo s, gazed at him from the depths of a steaming 
 frankfurter sandwich. 
 
 " Well, you look cheerful," he said in surprise. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "How was he?" 
 
 "Gentle as a kitten." 
 
 " Come off! Were you scared? " 
 
 " Scared ! Lord, no ! I enjoyed myself." 
 
 " You re a cheerful liar, you are. What did 
 he say to you?" 
 
 " Hoped I d enjoy the place and all that sort 
 of thing. And oh, yes, he spoke about you." 
 
 "He did, did he?" said Butsey, precipitately 
 leaving the frankfurter sandwich. 
 
 " He hoped I d have a good influence on you," 
 [47] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 said Stover, whose imagination had been too long 
 confined. 
 
 Butsey rose wrathfully, but the answer he in 
 tended could not be made, for, reckoning on his 
 host, he was already in his third frankfurter, 
 and there was the Jigger Shop yet to be visited. 
 
 " Dink, if you ever have to tell the truth," he 
 said, "it ll kill you. Come in and meet Mr. 
 Laloo." 
 
 Mr. Laloo was leaning gratefully on the coun 
 ter as, indeed, he was always leaning against 
 something; his legs crossed, lazily plying the 
 afternoon toothpick. 
 
 " Laloo, shake hands with my friend, Mr. 
 Stover," said Butsey White professionally. 
 "Mr. Stover s heard about your hot dogs, way 
 out in California." 
 
 Laloo transferred the toothpick and gave 
 Stover his hand in a tired, unenthusiastic way. 
 
 " Well, now, they do be pretty good hot dogs," 
 he drawled out. " Suppose you want one? " 
 He looked at Stover in sleepy reproachfulness, 
 and then slid around the counter in the shortest 
 parabola possible. 
 
 "Pick him out a nice, young Pomeranian," 
 said Butsey, peering into the steaming tin. 
 
 Laloo forked a frankfurter, selected a roll and 
 looked expectantly at Stover. 
 
 "What s the matter?" said Dink, mystiMed. 
 [48] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Mustard or no mustard? " Butsey said in 
 explanation. " He likes to talk, but the doctor 
 won t let him." 
 
 " I ll have all that s coming to me," said Dink 
 loudly. 
 
 A second later his teeth had sunk into the 
 odorous mass. He shut his eyes, gazed seraph- 
 ically at the smooty ceiling and winked at But 
 sey. 
 
 " Umm? " said Butsey. 
 
 " Umm ! Umm ! " 
 
 " Isn t he the fancy young dog-catcher? " 
 
 "Well, I should rather!" said Dink, lost in 
 the vapors. " I say, have another? " 
 
 "Thanks, old chap, but I had a couple while 
 you were chucking the Doctor under the chin," 
 said Butsey glibly. "Save up now; we ve got 
 a couple more places to visit." 
 
 " How much?" said Dink. 
 
 Laloo, who was reclining against the nearest 
 wall, elevated four fingers and gazed out the 
 window. 
 
 " Four ! " said Stover. 
 
 "One and three." 
 
 "Three!" said Butsey in feigned surprise. 
 " Oh, come, I didn t eat three well, I never ; 
 what do you think of that? " 
 
 Dink rubbed his ear thoughtfully, looked hard 
 at Butsey and paid. Laloo followed them to the 
 [49] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 door, leaned against the jamb and gazed down 
 the road. 
 
 " Now for Bill Appleby s," said Butsey cheer 
 ily. " He s rolling rolling in wealth. We ll 
 go in later for lamps and crockery and all that 
 sort of thing. I thought we might sort of wash 
 down the hot dogs before we go up to the Jiggei 
 Shop eh, what?" 
 
 In Appleby s general merchandise store Stover 
 gravely shook hands with a quick, businesslike 
 little man with a Western mustache, a Down- 
 East twang and a general air of being on the 
 trigger. 
 
 " Well, Bill, how s business? " said Butsey 
 affably, nudging Stover. 
 
 "It s bad, boys, it s bad," said Bill mourn 
 fully. 
 
 " Bad, you old robber," said Butsey ; " why, 
 that little iron safe of yours is just cracking 
 open with coin. How s the rootbeer to-day?" 
 
 " It s very nice, Mr. White. Just come in this 
 morning." 
 
 " Yes, it did ! Bet it came in with the Ark," 
 said Butsey, to Stover s great admiration. 
 " Well, are you going to set us up to a couple of 
 bottles, or have we got to pay for them?" 
 
 " We ve got some very fine Turkish paste, Mr. 
 White," said Bill, producing the rootbeer. 
 
 "Well?" said Butsey, looking at Stover. 
 
 "Sure!" 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " I d like to show you some of our new crock 
 ery sets, Mr. Stover," said Appleby softly. 
 " Just come in this morning. Want a student s 
 lamp?" 
 
 " No time now, Bill," said Butsey, hastily con 
 sulting the clock. " See you later." 
 
 Other groups came in; Appleby moved away. 
 Stover, quenching the hot dogs in rootbeer, heard 
 again the opening salutations: 
 " Well, Bill, how s business? " 
 It s bad, Mr. Parsons. It s bad." 
 "Well, Bill, ta-ta," said Butsey, as they 
 moved off. " Seen Doc Macnooder this morn 
 ing? " 
 
 "No, Mr. White, I haven t saw him to-day." 
 "Always make him answer that," said But 
 sey chuckling, " and always ask him about busi 
 ness. We all do. It s e-tiquette. There s Fir- 
 min s, ? he said, with a wave of his hand 
 " post-office, country store, boots and shoes and 
 all that sort of thing. And here s the Jigger 
 Shop!" 
 
 Stover had no need of the explanation. Be 
 fore a one-story, glass-fronted structure a swarm 
 of boys of all ages, sizes and colors were, clus 
 tered on steps and railings, or perched on posts 
 and backs of chairs, all ravenously attacking 
 the jigger to the hungry clink of the spoon 
 against the glass. They elbowed their way in 
 through the joyous, buzzing mass to where 
 [511 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 by the counter, Al, watchdog of the jiggev 
 scooped out the fresh strawberry ice cream 
 and gathered in the nickels that went before. 
 At the moment of their arrival Al was in 
 what might be termed a defensive formation. 
 One elbow was leaning on the counter, one 
 hand caressed the heavy, drooping mustache, one 
 ear listened to the promises of a ravenous, impe 
 cunious group, but the long:, pointer nose and the 
 financial eyes were dreamily plunged on the 
 group without. 
 
 " Gee, did you ever see such an eye? " said 
 Butsey, who had reasons of his own for quailing 
 before it. " It s almost up to the Doctor s. You 
 can t fool him not for a minute. Talk about 
 Pierpont Morgan! Why, he knows the whole 
 blooming lot of us, just what we re worth. Why, 
 that eye of his could put a hole right through 
 any pocket. Watch him when he spots me. " 
 Pushing forward he exclaimed : " Hello, Al ; glad 
 to see me? " 
 
 Al turned slowly, fastening his glance on him 
 with stony intentness. 
 
 "Don t bother me, you Butsey," he said 
 shortly. 
 
 "Al, I ve sort of set my sweet tooth on these 
 here strawberry jiggers of yours." 
 
 The Guardian of the Jigger made a half mo 
 tion in the air, as though to brush away an 
 imaginary fly. 
 
 [53] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Two nice, creamy, double strawberry jiggers, 
 Al." 
 
 APs eyes drooped wearily. 
 
 "My friend, Mr. Vanastorbilt Stover, here s 
 setting up," said Butsey in conciliating accents. 
 
 The eyes opened and fastened on Stover, who 
 advanced saying: 
 
 " That goes." 
 
 ( *Ring a couple of dimes down, Astorbilt," 
 said Butsey. " Al s very fond of music." 
 
 " Give me change for that," said Stover, ris 
 ing to the occasion with a five-dollar bill. 
 
 " And, for the love of Mike, hustle em," said 
 Butsey White. "I ve only got a second." 
 
 The shop began to empty rapidly as the hour 
 of the two o clock recitation neared. Stover 
 gazed into the pink, fruity depths of his first 
 strawberry jigger, inserted his spoon gingerly and 
 took a nibble. Then he drew a long:, contented 
 breath, gazed into the land of dreams, and gave 
 himself up to the delights of a new, of an incom 
 parable sensation. 
 
 Butsey White, gobbling against time, flung 
 out occasional, full-mouthed phrases: 
 
 " Got to run xcuse us jemima ! Isn t it the 
 stuff see you at three better bring some back 
 in box don t tell any one, though especially 
 the Coffee-colored Angel." 
 
 Across the fields the bell suddenlv, impa- 
 [53] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 tiently, brutally clanged out. With a last con 
 vulsive gulp Butsey White finished his glass, 
 and burst from the shop in the helter-skelter 
 company of the last laggards. Stover, left alone, 
 looked inquiringly at Al. 
 
 " Recitation," said Al. " They ve got a two- 
 twenty sprint before the bell stops. We re out 
 of hours, now, except for the Upper House." 
 
 "Meaning me?" said Stover, rising. 
 
 " Sit where you are," said Al. " You re all 
 right for to-day. Where do you hang out?" 
 
 " Green House," said Dink, who, beginning to 
 feel hungry, ordered another jigger and selected 
 a chocolate eclair. 
 
 " You re not rooming with Butsey White? " 
 
 " The same." 
 
 "You are?" said Al pityingly. "Well, just 
 let me give you one word of advice, young fellow. 
 Sew your shirt to your back, or he ll have it off 
 while you re getting into your coat." 
 
 "I wasn t born yesterday," said Dink impu 
 dently, gesturing with his spoon. " And I rather 
 fancy I m a pretty cute little proposition my 
 self." 
 
 " So ! " 
 
 " If any of these smart Alecs can get the best 
 of me," said Dink grandiloquently, egged on by 
 the other s tone of disbelief, "he ll have to get 
 up with the chickens ! " 
 
 [54] 
 
WHY, SOME OF EM ARE SO SLICK THAT WHEN THEY COME IN 
 LOCK THE CASH DRAWER AND STUFF COTTON" IN MY EARS" 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " You re pretty slick?" 
 
 "As slick as they make em." 
 
 " Say, bub," said Al, with his dreamy drawl, 
 "is this the line of talk you ve been putting 
 out to that bunch of Indians down in the 
 Green?" 
 
 " Oh, I ll put it out." 
 
 " Say, you re going to have a wonderful time 
 here!" 
 
 "Watch me," said Dink, cocking his head; but 
 with less confidence than when he had an 
 nounced his intentions on the stage-coach. 
 
 "Young fellow," said Al, leaning back and 
 looking at him from under his eyelids, "you re 
 in wrong. You don t know what you ve come to. 
 Why, there s a bunch of young stock jobbers 
 around here that would make a Wall Street 
 bunco-steerer take to raising chickens! Slick? 
 Why, some of em are so slick that when they 
 come in I lock the cash drawer and stuff cotton 
 in my ears." 
 
 "Bring em on," said Dink disdainfully. 
 
 At this moment there was a loud flop by the 
 window in the rear, and the Tennessee Shad rose 
 slowly from the floor. At the same moment Doc 
 Macnooder, ambling innocently by on the far 
 ther sidewalk, turned, dashed across the street, 
 bounded into the shop and, returning to the door, 
 carefully surveyed the approaches. 
 [55] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " All clear," said the Tennessee Shad from the 
 window. 
 
 "All s well on the Rappahannock," returned 
 the scout at the door. 
 
 Macnooder, with a well-executed double shuf 
 fle, the Tennessee Shad, with a stiff-jointed 
 lope of his bony body, advanced and shook hands. 
 
 " Al, we come not to take your hard-earned 
 money, but do you good," said Macnooder as 
 usual, genially shaking an imaginary hand. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad camped on the back of 
 a chair, drew up his thin, long legs, laid one 
 bony finger against a bony nose and looked ex 
 pectantly at Macnooder. 
 
 Meanwhile Al, without turning his back, care< 
 fully moved over to the glass counter that shel 
 tered appetizing trays of Eclairs, plum cakes and 
 cream puffs and, whistling a melancholy note, 
 locked the door, scanned the counter, and placed 
 a foot on the cover of the jigger tub. 
 
 Doc Macnooder, whose round, bullet head and 
 little rhinoceros eyes had followed the hostile 
 preparation, said sorrowfully: 
 
 "Al-bert, your conduct grieves us." 
 
 " Go ahead, now," said Al in a tired voice. 
 
 "Go ahead?" said Macnooder, looking in sur 
 prise at the equally impassive Tennessee Shad. 
 
 " What s the flimflam to-day? " 
 
 "Al," said Macnooder, in his most persuasive 
 [56] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 tones, "you wrong me. My motives are honor 
 able. At four o clock this very afternoon Tur 
 key Reiter will proceed to cash a check and set 
 tle for a fountain pen, a pair of suspenders and 
 a safety razor I sold him. Just trust me till 
 then will you? " 
 
 " Nothing doing," said Al. 
 
 "Honor bright, Al!" 
 
 " No use." 
 
 "You must trust me till then." 
 
 Al, producing a patent clipper, began to pare 
 his nails. 
 
 "Al?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Won t you trust me?" 
 
 " Don t make me laugh ! " 
 
 "APs right, Doc," said the Tennessee Shad, 
 entering the discussion. " You ought to put up 
 some guarantee." 
 
 Al slowly turned his gaze on the Tennessee 
 Shad and waited hopefully for the real attack. 
 
 "Well, what?" said Macnooder. 
 
 " How about your watch? " 
 
 It s loaned." 
 
 "You haven t got a stickpin on you?" 
 
 "Left em at home never thought Al would 
 go back on me." 
 
 Al smiled. 
 
 " That s a very nice spring coat you ve got on," 
 [57] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 said the Tennessee Shad, as though struck by an 
 inspiration. " Why don t you put that up for a 
 couple of hours?" 
 
 "Not on your life," said Macnooder indig 
 nantly. "This coat s brand new, worth thirty 
 dollars." 
 
 Al, suddenly shifting, leaned forward, both 
 elbows on the counter, and studied the coat with 
 a reminiscent air. 
 
 "Oh, put it up," said the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 "Never. I ve got associations about this coat 
 and, besides, I ve got to make a swell call in 
 Princeton to-morrow." 
 
 "What s the diff?" said the Tennessee Shad, 
 yawning. " It s only a couple of hours ; and you 
 know you said you were going to clean off the 
 whole slate with Al, sure as Turkey boned up." 
 
 Macnooder seemed to hesitate. 
 
 " It s idiotic to put up a real, high-life coat for 
 a couple of jiggers." 
 
 " Hurry up ; I m hungry." 
 
 "Stop," said Al, drawing back satisfied. "I 
 wouldn t bother about that coat if I were you." 
 
 "Why not? - exclaimed the two partners. 
 
 " Cause I remember that coat gag now," said 
 Al with a far-off look. "I bit once way back 
 in 89. It s a good game, specially when the real 
 owner comes ramping in the next day." 
 [58] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "What do you mean?" said Doc Macnooder 
 indignantly. 
 
 "I mean that it don t button, you young 
 pirate," said Al scornfully, but without malice. 
 "When you try anything as slick as that again 
 you want to be sure the real owner ain t been 
 around. That coat belongs to Lovely Mead." 
 
 Doc Macnooder looked at the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 " Have we really got to pay for them? " he 
 said mournfully. 
 
 "Looks that way." 
 
 "Oh, well," said Doc, slapping down a quar 
 ter, " fill em up." 
 
 Al heaped up the glasses, adding an appreci 
 ative extra dab with the magnanimity of the vic 
 tor, and said : 
 
 " Say, you boys want to rub up a little. Here s 
 Stover, over there, just come. He s about your 
 size." 
 
 The Tennessee Shad and Doc Macnooder about 
 faced and stared at Stover, who all the while had 
 remained in quiet obscurity, dangling his legs 
 over the counter. 
 
 " Just come, Stover?" said Macnooder at last 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " On the noon stage? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "What form?" 
 
 [59] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Second, sir." 
 
 " Why, shake, then, brother," said the Tennes 
 see Shad, offering his hand. " Shake hands with 
 Doc Macnooder." 
 
 Doc Macnooder grasped his hand with extra 
 cordiality, saying: 
 
 "What house?" 
 
 " Green House, sir," said Stover, awed by the 
 sight of a varsity jersey. " I m rooming with 
 with Mr. White." 
 
 "What ll you have?" 
 
 " I beg pardon." 
 
 "What ll you have?" 
 
 "Why," said Stover, quite taken back by the 
 offer, " I think it s up to me, sir." 
 
 " Eats ! " said Macnooder. " If you ve been in 
 tow of Butsey, I ll bet you ve been paying out 
 all day. Butsey White s a low-down, white- 
 livered cuss, who d take advantage of a fresh 
 man. Step up." 
 
 " I ll have another one of these," said Stover 
 gratefully, feeling his heart warm toward the 
 unexpected friends. 
 
 " Bet Butsey s stuck you pretty hard," said the 
 Tennessee Shad, nodding wisely. " He s just 
 loaded with the spondulix, too." 
 
 "Well, he did sort of impose on me," said 
 Stover, thinking of the frankfurters at Laloo s. 
 
 " It s a shame," said Macnooder indignantly. 
 [60] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 -Here, Al, make that a triple. Don t think 
 we re all like that, though." 
 
 Al, listening, was sorely puzzled at this sudden 
 cordiality, knowing of old the firm of Doc Mac- 
 nooder and the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 "I say, let me set up for Eclairs, or some 
 thing," said Stover, exceedingly moved. 
 
 " Not a cent," said Macnooder firmly. 
 
 " I hope Butsey hasn t been steering you 
 around to Firmin s and Appleby s for crockery 
 and all that sort of thing," said the Tennessee 
 Shad, with a look that at once convinced Stover 
 of his roommate s criminal complicity. 
 
 " Why, he was going to do that after this reci 
 tation." 
 
 "He was, was he?" said Doc. "Think of 
 that! He s going to stick you for everything 
 first hand." 
 
 "What can I do?" 
 
 "Do? Save half your chink, get everything 
 second hand, the way we do." 
 
 Al, comprehending, leaned back and smiled. 
 
 "Ill bet he get s a rake off," said Stover in 
 dignantly. 
 
 " I don t say that," said Macnooder, with the 
 air of insinuating as much. 
 
 " I wish I knew the ropes." 
 
 " That s easy enough. Any one can tell you." 
 
 " I wish you fellows d put me on." 
 [61] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Glad to do it," said Macnooder, without en 
 thusiasm. " Finish up and we ll fit you out in 
 a jiffy." 
 
 When the three went shuffling down the street 
 Al did an unusual, an unprecedented thing. He 
 actually made the turn of the counter and sta- 
 tioned himself at the door, watching the group 
 depart Macnooder with his aria on Stover s 
 shoulder, the Tennessee Shad guarding the other- 
 side. 
 
 When they disappeared beyond Bill Drum s, 
 the cobbler s, in the direction of the Dickinson, 
 he said slowly, in profound admiration: 
 
 " Well, I ll be jiggered ! If those body-snatch 
 ers don t get electrocuted, they ll own Fifth 
 Avenue ! " 
 
 [62] 
 
V 
 
 " Come up to my room and we ll see what s on 
 Hand," said Doc, entering the Dickinson. " Too 
 bad you re stuck down in the Green no house 
 spirit there you must get in with us next year." 
 
 "Doc s a great fellow," said the Tennessee 
 Shad, as Macnooder went quickly ahead, "a 
 great business man. He s a sort of clearing 
 house for the whole school. Say, he s taken a 
 regular fancy to you." 
 
 "What did he get his <L for?" said Stover, 
 as the Tennessee Shad, to gain time, showed him 
 the lower floor. 
 
 "Quarter on the eleven last fall. Here s 
 the Triumphant Egghead s room. Isn t it a 
 peach? They ve got a good crowd here; you 
 must be with them or us next year. Here s Tur 
 key Reiter s and Butcher Stevens quarters. 
 They re crackerjacks, too ; on the eleven and the 
 nine. Come on, now. We ll strike Doc. You 
 know he studies medicine and all that sort of 
 thing. Wait till I give the countersign. Doc s 
 most particular." 
 
 Stover found himself in a den, a combination 
 of drug-store, taxidermist s shop and general 
 [63] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 warehouse. All about the room were ranged an 
 extraordinary array of bottles green bottles 
 that lurked under the bed, red, blue and white 
 bottles that climbed the walls and crowded the 
 mantelpiece, tops of bottles that peered out of 
 half-opened boxes, all ticketed and mustered in 
 regiments. From the ceiling a baby alligator 
 swung on a wire, blinking at them horribly with 
 shining glass eyes; a stuffed owl sat in one cor 
 ner; while opposite, a muskrat peered into a 
 crow s nest. The closet and all available floor 
 space were heaped high with paper boxes and 
 wooden cases, while over all were innumerable 
 catalogues. 
 
 " Pretty fine, isn t it? " said the Tennessee 
 Shad. 
 
 " It s wonderful," said Stover, not quite at 
 ease. 
 
 " It s not bad/ said Doc. " I d like to have a 
 nice, white skeleton over there in that corner; 
 but they re hard to get, nowadays. Now let s 
 get down to business. Sit down." 
 
 Stover took the only chair; the Tennessee Shad 
 curled up languidly on the bed, after brushing 
 aside the debris; while Macnooder, perched on 
 a drygoods box, poised a pencil over a pad of 
 paper. 
 
 "You want a crockery set, first; a student 
 lamp, and an oil can to keep your oil in." 
 
 " Especially the can," said the Tennessee Shad 
 [64] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 gravely. "Better get a padlock with it, or the 
 whole Green House will be stealing: from you." 
 
 " I don t know whether I have a can on hand," 
 said Macnooder anxiously. " But here s a 
 lamp." 
 
 He placed a rather battered affair in the mid 
 dle of the floor, saying: 
 
 " It s a little squee-geed, but you don t care 
 about looks. They ask you all kinds of prices 
 for them when they re new; but you can have 
 this for two-twenty-five. There s a bite out of 
 the shade, but you can turn that side to the wall. 
 They re rather hard to get second hand." 
 
 " All right," said Stover. 
 
 " Better light it up first," said the Tennessee 
 Shad professionally. 
 
 " That s businesslike," said Macnooder, who 
 lit a match and, after an unsuccessful attempt, 
 said: "There s no oil in it. Still, if Stover 
 wants " 
 
 "Never mind that," said Stover loudly, to 
 show his confidence. 
 
 " Now for the toilet set." 
 
 "Say, how about the can?" 
 
 " Oh, the can. Let me look," said Macnooder, 
 disappearing among the packing boxes in the 
 closet. 
 
 " You want that." said the Tennessee Shad 
 confidentially. 
 
 " Hope he s got one," said Stover. 
 [65] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Macnooder reappeared with an ordinary kero 
 sene can and a padlock, announcing: 
 
 " This is the only one I ve got on hand. It s 
 my own." 
 
 " Let him have it," said the Tennessee Shad. 
 " No one can get in here ; you re always locked 
 and bolted." 
 
 Macnooder hesitated. 
 
 " How does it work? " said Stover, interested. 
 
 " The spigot is plugged up and the top cover 
 is padlocked to the side. See? Now no one can 
 get it. I don t particularly care about selling 
 it, but if you want it take it at one-twenty-five." 
 
 "That s too much," said the Tennessee Shad. 
 " One plunk s enough." 
 
 "You re paying cash?" said Macnooder, con 
 sidering. 
 
 " Sure ! " said Stover. 
 
 " Well, call it one bone, then." 
 
 Stover looked gratefully at the Tennessee 
 Shad, who winked at him to show him he was 
 his friend. 
 
 " Now, about a crockery set," said Macnooder, 
 scratching his head. "I ve got two, plain and 
 fancy, what we call a souvenir set but you 
 wouldn t understand that. I ll show you the 
 regular kind." 
 
 "What s a souvenir set?" said Dink, mvsti- 
 ed. 
 
 [66] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Oh, it s a sort of school fad," said the Ten 
 nessee Shad, as Doc disappeared. " Every piece 
 is different, collected from all sorts of places 
 swap em around like postage stamps, don t you 
 know. We ve got rather tired of the ordinary 
 thing, you know." 
 
 "Say, that s a bully idea," said Dink, whose 
 imagination was appealed to. 
 
 " Some of the fellows have perfect beauts," 
 said the Tennessee Shad, yawning; "got at ho 
 tels, and house parties, and all that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 "Why, that beats hooking signs all hollow," 
 said Dink, growing enthusiastic. 
 
 " I didn t know you d be interested," said the 
 Tennessee Shad carelessly. " Like to see one? " 
 
 " You bet I would." 
 
 "I say, Doc, old boy," said the Tennessee 
 Shad ; " bring out the souvenir set, too, will you, 
 like a good fellow?" 
 
 "Wait till I get this out," said Macnooder, 
 who, after much rummaging, puffed back with 
 a blue-and-white set which he ranged on the 
 floor. 
 
 "How s that appeal to you?" he said with a 
 flourish of his hand. "Good condition, too; 
 only the soap dish has a nick. You can have it 
 for two-fifty." 
 
 But Dink had no eyes for the commonplace. 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Could I see the other," he said, "before 1 
 decide?" 
 
 Macnooder appeared loth to exert himself to 
 no purpose. 
 
 " You wouldn t cotton to it, bub," he said, with 
 a shake of his head. 
 
 " I m not so sure about that," said the Tennes 
 see Shad. "This chap s no bottle baby; he s 
 more of a sport than you think. I ll bet you 
 he s got a few swagger trophies, in the line of 
 signs, himself." 
 
 " I ve got two or three might strike your 
 fancy," said Dink with a reckless look. 
 
 " Come on, Doc, don t be so infernally lazy. 
 You re the deuce of a salesman. Out with the 
 crockery." 
 
 "What s the use?" said Doc half heartedly, 
 moving back into the litter of the closet. 
 
 " Don t get it unless you can afford it," said 
 the Tennessee Shad in a friendly whisper. 
 
 When at length the souvenir set had been 
 carefully displayed on the top of a box, cleared 
 for the occasion, Stover beheld a green and white 
 pitcher, rising like a pond lily from the depths 
 of a red and white basin, while a lavender tooth 
 mug, a blue cup and a pink soap dish gave the 
 whole somewhat the effect of an aurora-borealis. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad sprang up and examined 
 each piece with a connoisseur s enthusiasm. 
 [68] 
 
THK VAJRMIXT 
 
 The lavender tooth mug, especially, attracted 
 his curiosity. He looked it over, handled it 
 gingerly, holding it to the light. 
 
 " Don- 1 think this is up to the rest," he said 
 finally, looking at Doc. " It s cracked." 
 
 " Suppose it is ! " said Doc scornfully. " Do 
 you know whose that is? That was swiped out 
 of the set of Brother Baldwin." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 " Fact. Last day of spring term, when he 
 \vas giving a math exam." 
 
 "You don t say so!" 
 
 "What are the rest? " said Stover, wondering 
 what sum could possibly compensate for such 
 treasures. 
 
 " The rest are not so much ; from the other 
 houses, but they re good pieces. The water 
 pitcher was traded by Cap Kiefer, catcher of 
 the nine, you know. But there s one article/ 
 said Doc, pointing melodramatically, "that s 
 worth the whole lot. Only I ll have to put you 
 under oath both of you." 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, puzzled, looked hard at 
 Macnooder and raised his right hand. Stover, 
 blushing, followed suit. 
 
 " That," said Macnooder, " came direct frorq 
 Foundation House. That belonged to his Xibs 
 himself!" 
 
 " Come off ! " said the Tennessee Shad, not dar- 
 [69] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 ing to look at Macnooder. "That s a bunco 
 game." 
 
 " I didn t say it was swiped/ said Macnooder 
 indignantly. " Just give me a chance, will you? 
 It was smashed up at the fire scare and thrown 
 away with a lot of other things. Tough Me- 
 Carty, down at the Green, I think, has got the 
 slop jar." 
 
 " Excuses ! " said the Tennessee Shad. " I did 
 think for a moment you were trying to impose 
 on my young confidence. Gee! Just think, of 
 it! Cracky, what a prize! The Doctor him 
 self well well! Say, I d like to make a bid 
 myself." 
 
 " It goes with the set," said Macnooder. " It 
 ain t mine ; I m only getting the commission." 
 
 Stover, having caressed each article, drew a 
 long breath and said falteringly : 
 
 " I suppose it comes pretty high ! " 
 
 " Of course it s worth more than the other 
 set." 
 
 " Oh, of course." 
 
 " The price set on it was four flat." 
 
 " That s a good deal of money," said the Ten 
 nessee Shad. " Specially when you ve got to fit 
 yourself out." 
 
 " Well, the other s cheaper at two-fifty," said 
 Macnooder. 
 
 " Stover s sort of set his heart on this," said 
 the Tennessee Shad. "Haven t you, Sport?" 
 [70] 
 

THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover confessed that he had, 
 
 " Come on ; make him a better price, Doc." 
 
 "I d have to consult my client." 
 
 "Well, consult your old client." 
 
 Macnooder disappeared. 
 
 " Stand firm now," said the Tennessee Shad, 
 "you can beat him down. Doc wants to make 
 his commish. I tell you what I d do if I were 
 you." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " If I were looking for a real trophy I d make 
 him a bid on this. This is the best thing in the 
 whole caboodle. Come over here. Say, just 
 cast your eyes on this ! " 
 
 Stover gazed in awe. On the wall, suspended 
 on the red and black flag of the school, were a 
 pair of battered and torn football shoes, while 
 underneath was a photograph of Flash Condit 
 and the score Princeton Varsity, 8 ; Lawrence- 
 ville, 4. 
 
 "Gee!" said Stover. "He wouldn t sell 
 those!" 
 
 "He might," said the Tennessee Shad. "Be 
 tween you and me and the lamppost, Doc is 
 devilishly hard up. Offer him a couple of dol 
 lars and see." 
 
 " The shoes that made the touchdown," said 
 Dink reverentially. The Tennessee Shad did 
 not contradict him. 
 
 Half an hour later Dink Stover sallied forth 
 [71] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 with the ecstasy of a collector who has just dis 
 covered an old master. Klondike Jackson, who 
 shook up the beds at the Dickinson, preceded 
 him, drawing in an express wagon the lamp, the 
 padlocked kerosene can and the souvenir set, 
 slightly reduced. Wrapped in tissue paper, 
 tucked under Stover s arm, were the precious 
 shoes, which he had purchased on the distinct 
 understanding that Macnooder should have the 
 right to redeem them at any time before the end 
 of the term, on the payment of costs and fifty- 
 per-cent interest. In Stover s pocket was a new 
 fountain pen, a box of elastics, a pair of Boston 
 garters and a patent nail clipper. Only the 
 limits of his exchequer had prohibited his avail 
 ing himself of the opportunity to purchase, at 
 a tremendous bargain, a pair of snow-shoes, a 
 tobogganing cap and a pair of corduroy trousers, 
 slightly spotted. 
 
 Luckily for Dink, marching warily behind 
 the vanguard, the three o clock recitation had 
 begun, and but a scattering of his schoolmates 
 were abroad to witness his progress. 
 
 He arrived thus, virtually unnoticed, at the 
 Green and, with the help of Klondike, arranged 
 his possessions so as to make the greatest dis 
 play. 
 
 He was standing in the middle of the floor, 
 clutching the historic shoes and searching the 
 [72] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 walls for the proper place of honor, when But 
 sey White blew in. 
 
 "Where in thunder have you been? - he ex 
 claimed, and then stopped at the sight of the 
 twisted lamp. He looked at Dink, gave a grunt 
 and examined the new purchase. 
 
 "Broken-winded, spavined, has the rickets 
 bet it leaks and won t burn. Where in " 
 
 All at once he perceived the kerosene can, 
 with its attached padlock. 
 
 "What s this thing?" he said, in genuine sur 
 prise, picking it up with two fingers and re 
 garding it with a look of blank incomprehen 
 sion. 
 
 " That s the safety can," said Stover, yielding 
 to a vague feeling of uneasiness. 
 
 "What s this?" 
 
 " That s a padlock," 
 
 " What for? " 
 
 "Why, for the kerosene." 
 
 "What kerosene?" 
 
 " The kerosene for the lamp. 9 
 
 " Why, you nincompoop, we don t furnish the 
 kerosene." 
 
 "We don t?" said Stover faintly, with a hor 
 rible sinking feeling. " Don t furnish the kero 
 sene?" 
 
 "Who got hold of you?" said Butsey, too as< 
 tounded to laugh. 
 
 [73] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "I met Macnooder " 
 
 "And the Tennessee Shad, I ll bet my pants 
 on it," said Butsey. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "What else did they unload on you?" 
 
 "Why why, I bought a souvenir set," 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 " A souvenir toilet set." 
 
 Butsey wheeled to the washstand, uttered 
 a shriek and fell in convulsions on the bed. 
 
 Stover stood stockstill, gazing in horror from 
 the variegated crockery to Butsey, who was 
 thrashing to and fro in hysterical flops, holding 
 both the pillows where they would most ease 
 the agony. Then, with a sudden deft move 
 ment, Dink dropped the historic shoes, sent them 
 under the bed with a savage kick and, rushing 
 to the window, threw the safety can into the 
 tall grass of the fields beyond. Then he returned 
 solemnly, sat down on the edge of the bed, took 
 his head in his hands and began to do some 
 rapid thinking. Butsey White, prone on the 
 bed, burying his head in the covers, by painful 
 degrees returned, gasping, to self-control. 
 
 "Mr. White," said Dink solemnly. 
 
 There was a slight commotion opposite and 
 a hand fluttered beseechingly, while Butsey s 
 weak voice managed to say: 
 
 "Take it away take it away." 
 [74] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Dink rose and cast a towel over the set of 
 seven colors, and then resumed his seat. 
 
 "It s all right; I ve hidden it," he said. 
 
 Butsey rolled from the bed, tottered over to 
 his own washstand and drank deeply from the 
 water pitcher. Then he turned on the melan 
 choly Stover. 
 
 Say ! " 
 
 " Go ahead ! Soak it to me ! " 
 
 "I thought you were old enough to go out 
 alone. 9 
 
 " They lied to me," said Stover, kicking a 
 chair. 
 
 " Say that again." 
 
 " They lied," repeated Dink, but with a more 
 uncertain note. 
 
 " This from you ! " said Butsey maliciously. 
 
 A great ethical light burst over Dink. He 
 scratched his head and then looked at Butsey, 
 grinning a sheepish grin. 
 
 "Well, I guess it was coming to me but 
 they are wonders!" he said, with reluctant ad 
 miration. " I ll take my medicine, but I ll get 
 back at them, by jiminy! You see if I don t." 
 
 " For the love of Mike, give us the story ! " 
 
 "You ll keep it twenty-four hours?" 
 
 " So help me " 
 
 " I m a sucker, all right." said Dink ruefully. 
 Then he stopped and blurted out : " Say, White, 
 [75] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 I guess it was about what I needed. I guess I m 
 not such a little wonder-worker, after all. I ve 
 been fresh rotten fresh. But, say, from now 
 on I m holding my ear to the ground ; and when 
 it comes to humbly picking up a few crumbs of 
 knowledge you ll find me ready and willing. I m 
 reformed. jNow, here s the tale:" 
 
 [76] 
 
VI 
 
 Dink, under the influence of the new emotion, 
 made a fairly full confession, merely overlook 
 ing the shoes that Flash did not carry over the 
 Princeton goal line, and suppressing that detail 
 of the Foundation House s supposed contribu 
 tion, which had lent such a peculiar value to 
 the souvenir crockery set. By four o clock But- 
 sey White had sufficiently recovered to remem 
 ber the afternoon baseball match. 
 
 Ten minutes later Dink, lost in a lapping 
 baseball suit lent by Cheyenne Baxter, re-en 
 forced with safety pins, stationed himself in the 
 outfield behind a catcher s mitt, for preliminary 
 practice with little Susie Satterly and Beekstein 
 Hall, who was shortsighted and wore glasses. 
 
 The result of five minutes frantic chasing was 
 that Dink, who surprised every one by catching 
 a fly that somehow stuck in his glove, was 
 promoted to centerfield ; Susie Satterly, who had 
 stopped two grounders, took left; while Beek 
 stein was ignominiously escorted to a far posi 
 tion in rightfield and firmly requested to stop 
 whatever he could with his chest. 
 
 The Cleve cohorts arrived, thirty strong, like 
 [77] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 banditti maching to sack a city, openly voicing 
 their derision for the nine occupants of the 
 Green House. The contest, which at first sight 
 seemed unequal, was not in reality so, Tough 
 McCarty and Cheyenne Baxter being an unus 
 ually strong battery, while the infield, with But- 
 sey White at first, the White Mountain Canary 
 at second, Stuffy Brown short-stop and the 
 Coffee-colored Angel at third, quite outclassed 
 the invaders. The trouble was in the outfield 
 where the trouble in such contests are sure to 
 congregate. 
 
 Stover had never been so thoroughly fright 
 ened in his life. His imagination, boylike, was 
 aghast at the unknown. A great question was 
 to be decided in a few minutes, when his turn 
 would come to step up to the box and expose 
 himself to the terrific cannonade of Nick Carter, 
 the lengthy pitcher of the Cleve. The curious 
 thing was that on this point Stover himself was 
 quite undecided. Was he a coward, or was he 
 not? Would his legs go back on him, or would 
 he stand his ground, knowing that the stinging 
 ball might strike anywhere on the tender w r rist 
 bones, shattering the point of the elbow, or land 
 ing with a deadly thud right over his temple, 
 which he remembered was an absolutely fatal 
 spot? 
 
 His first two innings in the field were a com- 
 [78] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 plete success not a ball came his way. With 
 his fielding average quite intact he came in to 
 face the crisis. 
 
 "Brown to the bat, Stover on deck, Satterly 
 in the hole," came the shrill voice of Fate in the 
 person of Shrimp Davis, the official scorer. 
 
 Stover nervously tried one bat after another; 
 each seemed to weigh a ton. Then Cheyenne 
 Baxter joined him, crouching beside him for a 
 word of advice. 
 
 "Now, Dink," he said in a whisper, keeping 
 his eye on Stuffy Brown, who, being unable to 
 hit the straightest ball, was pawing the plate 
 and making terrific preparatory swings with 
 his bat. " Now, Dink, listen here. (Pick out an 
 easy one, Stuffy, and bang it on the nose. Hi-yi, 
 good waiting, Stuffy) Nick Carter s wild as a 
 wet hen. All he s got is a fast outcurve. Now, 
 what you want to do is to edge up close to the 
 plate and let him hit you. (Oh, robber! That 
 wasn t a strike! Say, Mr. Umpire, give us a 
 square deal, will you?) Walk right into it, Dink, 
 and if it happens to hit you on the wrist rub 
 above the elbow like the mischief." 
 
 "Above the elbow?" said Dink in a hollow 
 voice. 
 
 "That s it. You ve got a chance to square 
 yourself with the House. Step right into it. 
 What? Three strikes? Say, Mr. Umpire, 
 [79] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 you re not taking Nick Carter s word for it, are 
 you? " 
 
 Amid a storm of execrations Stuffy Brown 
 retired, appealing frantically to the four 
 quarters of the globe for justice and a 
 judge. 
 
 Impelled by a resounding whack, Dink ap 
 proached the plate as a balky horse tries his 
 hoofs in a pool of water. He spread his feet 
 and shouldered his bat, imitating the slightly- 
 crouching position of Cheyenne Baxter. Then 
 he looked out for a favorable opening. The 
 field was thronged with representatives of the 
 Cleve House. He turned to first base it was 
 miles away. He looked at Nick Carter, sav 
 agely preparing to mow him down, and he 
 seemed to loom over him, infringing on the 
 batter s box. 
 
 "Why the devil don t they stick the pitchy 
 back and give a fellow a chance? " he thought, 
 eying uneasily the quick, jerky preparations. 
 "Why, at this distance a ball could go right 
 through you." 
 
 " Come on, Nick, old boy," said a voice issuing 
 from the iron mask at his elbow. "We ve got 
 an umpire that can t be bluffed. This is noth 
 ing but a Statue of Liberty. Chop him right 
 down." 
 
 Dink shivered from the ground up, Carter s 
 [801 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 long arms gyrated spasmodically, and the ball, 
 like the sweep of a swallow from the ground, 
 sprang directly at him. Stover, with a yell, 
 flung himself back, landing all in a heap. 
 
 "Ball one," said the umpire. 
 
 A chorus of taunts rose from the Green House 
 nine. 
 
 " Trying to put him out, are you?" 
 
 " Mucker trick ! " 
 
 " Put him out ! " 
 
 " Good eye, Dinky ! " 
 
 "That s the boy." 
 
 Stover rose, found his bat and ruthfully 
 forced himself back to his position. 
 
 " I should have let it hit me/ he said angrily, 
 perceiving Baxter s frantic signals. " It might 
 have broken a rib, but I d have showed my 
 nerve." 
 
 Clenching his bat fiercely he waited, resolved 
 on a martyr s death. But the next ball coming 
 straight for his head, he ducked horribly. 
 
 " Ball two too high," said the umpire. 
 
 Stover tightened his belt, rapped the plate 
 twice with his bat, as Butsey had done, and re 
 sumed his position. But the memory of the 
 sound the ball had made when it had whistled 
 by his ears had unnerved him. Before he could 
 summon back his heroic resolves Carter, with a 
 sudden jerk, delivered the ball. Involuntarily 
 [81] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover stepped back, the ball easily and slowly 
 passed him and cut the corner of the plate. 
 
 " Ball three," said the umpire hesitatingly. 
 
 The Cleve catcher hurled his mask to the 
 ground, Carter cast down his glove and trod on 
 it, while the second baseman fell on his bag and 
 wept. 
 
 When order was restored Stover dodged the 
 fourth wild ball and went in a daze to first, 
 where to his amazement he was greeted with 
 jubilant cheers. 
 
 " You re the boy, Dinky." 
 
 " You ve got an eye like Charlie De Soto." 
 
 " They can t fool Rinky Dink." 
 
 "Why, he s a wonder." 
 
 "Watch him steal second." 
 
 Stover slapped his foot on first base with the 
 joy of unhoped-for victory. He glowered about 
 his own possessions. The perspective had sud 
 denly changed; the field was open, all his, the 
 Cleve House representatives were a lot of dubs, 
 butterfingers and fumblers, anyhow! Under 
 Cheyenne Baxter s directions he went plunging 
 down to second, slid, all arms and legs, safely 
 on to the bag, thanks to a wild pitch, and rose 
 triumphantly, blowing the dust from his mouth. 
 
 There he remained, as Susie Satterly and 
 Beekstein methodically struck out. 
 
 But the joy of that double voyage was still 
 [82] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 on him as he went back to centerfield, ready to 
 master the hottest liner or retrieve the sky- 
 scraping fly. It was a great game. He felt a 
 special aptitude for it and wondered why he had 
 never discovered the talent before. He began 
 to dream of sizzling two-baggers and long home- 
 runs over the fence. 
 
 " I wish Fd get a chance," he said, prancing 
 about digging vicious holes in the glove, that 
 looked like a chest protector. " I d show em 
 what I can do out here." 
 
 But no chance came. The battle was be 
 tween pitchers, and to the surprise of every 
 one the Green House came up to the last inn 
 ing with the score of 2 to 1 in their favor, 
 the solitary run of the Cleve being due to a fly 
 that Beekstein had failed to notice. 
 
 The Green House nine went jubilantly out 
 into the field for the last half of the ninth inn 
 ing, determined to shut out the Cleve and end 
 the season with at least one victory. 
 
 Dink ran out on his tiptoes, encased himself 
 in his mitt and turned, tense and alert. He 
 had gone through his first ordeal triumphantly. 
 No chances had come to him in the field, but 
 at bat he had accidently succeeded in being hit, 
 and though he had struck out the next time he 
 had hit a foul and knew the jubilant feeling 
 that came with the crack of the bat. 
 [83] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Give me a week and I ll soak em out," he 
 said, moving restlessly, and lie added to himself : 
 "Strike em out, Cheyenne, old man! They re 
 easy." 
 
 But the Cleves suddenly woke up and began 
 to fight. One man beat out a grounder, and one 
 struck out; another error of the temperamental 
 White Mountain Canary put a man on third 
 and one on second. Then Cheyenne, pulling 
 himself together, made his second strike-out. 
 
 "Two out, play for the batter," came Chey 
 enne Baxter s warning hallo. 
 
 "Two out," said Dink to his fellow-fielders. 
 " One more and we spink em. Come on, now ! " 
 
 Both sides settled for the final play, the man 
 on second leading well up toward third. 
 
 " Steady ! " said Cheyenne. 
 
 Stover drew in his breath and rose to his toes, 
 as he had done thirty times already. 
 
 Suddenly there was a sharp crack, and the 
 ball meeting the bat, floated fair and free, out 
 toward eenterfield. 
 
 Dink did not have to move a step ; in fact, the 
 ball rose and fell straight for the massive mitt 
 as though it had chosen his glove from all the 
 other gloves in the field. It came slowly, end 
 lessly, the easiest, gentlest, most perfect fly 
 imaginable, directly for the large brown mitt 
 that looked like a chest protector. 
 [84] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover, turned to stone, saw it strike fair in 
 the middle, and then, irresistibly, slowly, while, 
 horribly fascinated, he stood powerless, slowly 
 trickle over the side of the mitt and drop to the 
 ground. 
 
 Dink did not stop for a look, for a second 
 thought, to hesitate or to deliberate. He knew ! 
 He gave a howl and broke for the House, and 
 behind him, pell-mell, shrieking and murderous, 
 like a pack of hounds in full cry, came the van 
 quished, thirsting body of the Green. 
 
 He cleared the fence with one hand, took the 
 road with two bounds, fled up the walk, burst 
 through the door, jumped the stairs, broke into 
 his room, slammed the door, locked it, backed 
 the bed against it and seized a chair. 
 
 Then the Green House struck the door like 
 a salvo of grapeshot. 
 
 " Open up, you robber ! " 
 
 " Open the door, you traitor ! " 
 
 "You Benedict Arnold! " 
 
 " Open up, you white-livered pup ! " 
 
 "You quitter!" 
 
 "You chickenheart! " 
 
 "You coward!" 
 
 Stover, his hair rising, seized the wooden 
 chair convulsively, waiting for the door to burst 
 in. 
 
 All at once the transom swung violently and 
 [85] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 the wolfish faces of Tough McCarty, the White 
 Mountain Canary, Cheyenne and the Coffee- 
 colored Angel crowded the opening. 
 
 " Get back or I ll kill you," said Dink in 
 frantic fear, and, advancing, he swung the chair 
 murderously. In a twinkling the transom was 
 emptied. 
 
 The storm of voices rose again. 
 
 "The freshest yet!" 
 
 " The nerve of him ! " 
 
 "Let s })reak in the door!" 
 
 " Come out ! " 
 
 " Come out, Freshman ! " 
 
 " He did it on purpose ! " 
 
 " He chucked the game ! " 
 
 " Wait till I get my hands on him ! " 
 
 "I ll skin him!" 
 
 All at once the face of Butsey White appeared 
 at the transom. 
 
 " Dink, you let me right in, you hear? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " You let me in right off ! " 
 
 Still no answer. 
 
 " It s my room ; you let me in to my room, do 
 you hear?" 
 
 Stover continued silent. 
 
 "Dink," said Butsey in his loudest tones, 
 " I m coming right over the transom. Don t 
 you dare to touch me ! " 
 
 [86] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover again seized the chair. 
 
 Butsey White, supported from behind, care 
 fully drew up one foot, and then convulsively 
 disappeared as Stover charged with the chair. 
 
 There was a whispered consultation and then 
 the battling face of Tough McCarty appeared 
 with a new threat: 
 
 " You lay a hand on me and I ll rip the hide 
 off you!" 
 
 "Keep back! " said Stover hoarsely. 
 
 "Put down that chair, you little varmint; 
 do you hear me? " 
 
 " Don t you come over ! " 
 
 " Yes, I m coming over, and you don t dare to 
 touch me. You don t " 
 
 Stover was neither a coward nor a hero; he 
 was simply in a panic and he was cornered. He 
 rushed wildly to the breach and delivered the 
 chair with a crash, Tough McCarty barely sav 
 ing himself. 
 
 This open defiance of the champion angered 
 the attacking party. 
 
 "He ought to be lynched!" 
 
 "The booby!" 
 
 " Wait till to-morrow ! " 
 
 Tough McCarty reappeared for a brief second. 
 
 " I ll get you yet," he said, pointing a finger at 
 the embattled Stover. "You re a muff, a low- 
 down muff, in every sense of the word ! " 
 F87] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Then succeeded the Coffee-colored Angel: 
 " Wait till I catch you, you Einky Dink ! " 
 Followed the White Mountain Canary: 
 " You ll reckon with me for this ! " 
 Down to Beekstein Hall, with his black- 
 rimmed spectacles, each member of the outraged 
 nine climbed to the transom and expressed his 
 unflattering opinion. 
 
 Stover sat down, Ms chin in his hands, his 
 eyes on the great, lumbering mitt that lay dis 
 honored on the floor. 
 
 " I m disgraced," he said slowly, " disgraced. 
 It s all over all over. I m queered queered 
 forever ! " 
 
 [88] 
 
EACH MEMBER OF THE OUTRAGED NINE CLIMBED TO THE TRANSOM AND 
 EXPRESSED HIS UNFLATTERING OPINION 
 
[VII 
 
 Until dusk, like Gilliatt in Victor Hugo s 
 Toilers of the Sea, waiting for the tide to swal 
 low Mm up, Stover sat motionless, brooding. 
 There was only one thing to do to run away. 
 His whole career had been ruined in a twinkling. 
 He knew. There could be no future for him in 
 the school. What he had done was so awful 
 that it could never be forgiven or forgotten. 
 Why had he run? If only he had made a quick 
 dive at the ball as it had trickled off the glove 
 and caught it before it reached the ground, in 
 stead of standing there, horrified, hypnotized. 
 Yes, he would escape, run off to sea somewhere 
 anywhere ! - But he wouldn t go home ; no, never 
 that! He would ship around the Horn, like the 
 hero in that dreadful book, Two Years Before 
 the Mast. He would run away that night, be 
 fore the story spread over the whole school. He 
 would never face them. He hated the school, 
 he hated the Green, he hated every one con 
 nected with it! 
 
 A tap came on the door, and the voice of But- 
 gey White said coldly: 
 
 " Open up ! Fuzzy-Wuzzy s in the House ; 
 [89] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 you re safe. Open up. I ve got to get ready for 
 supper." 
 
 Stover drew back the bed, unlocked the door 
 and waited with clenched fists for Butsey to 
 spring at him. Butsey White, whose tempestu 
 ous rage had long since spent itself in hilar 
 ious laughter, as, indeed, had been the case with 
 the rest, thought it best, however, for the pur 
 poses of authority, still to preserve a grave face. 
 
 " You re a fine specimen ! " he said curtly. 
 " You ve had a beautiful day of it." 
 
 " Yes, I have," said Dink miserably, " a beau 
 tiful day!" 
 
 Butsey, to whom the tragedy of the century 
 was nothing but an incident, had not the slight 
 est suspicion of Stover s absolute, overwhelm 
 ing despair. Yet Butsey, too, had suffered, and 
 profited by the suffering. 
 
 " You better square up with Tough McCarty," 
 he said, failing to read the anguish in Stover s 
 eyes. " You certainly were the limit." 
 
 " I hate him ! " said Dink bitterly. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " He s a bully." 
 
 Tough McCarty? Not a bit of it." 
 
 " He tried to bully me." 
 
 "Why didn t you let them in?" said Butsey, 
 putting the part in the middle of his hair with 
 a dripping comb. 
 
 [90] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Let them in!" 
 
 "Why, what do you think they d have done 
 to you? " 
 
 Stover had never thought of that. After all, 
 what could they have done to him? 
 
 I didn t think " 
 
 "Rats!" said Butsey. "They might have 
 pied you on the bed; but that s nothing if 
 you lie face down and keep your elbows in. 
 That s all you d have got. Then it would have 
 been over; now you ve got to square yourself. 
 Well, brush up and come down to supper, and 
 for the love of Mike smile a little." 
 
 Butsey White s sentiments neither consoled 
 nor convinced. Stover was too firmly per 
 suaded of the enormity of his offense and the 
 depth of his ignominy. 
 
 In all his life he had never done a more dif 
 ficult thing than to follow Butsey into the din 
 ing-room and face the disdainful glances of 
 those from whom he had so lately fled. 
 
 He sat in abject mental and physical suffer 
 ing, his eyes on his plate, tasting nothing of 
 what went into his mouth, chewing mechani 
 cally. 
 
 Mr. Jenkins, to be affable, asked him how he 
 
 had enjoyed the day. He mumbled some reply, 
 
 he never knew what, hearing only the dreadful 
 
 snicker that ran the table. He refused the des 
 
 [91] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 sert and left the table. It had been a night 
 mare. 
 
 He stayed in his room, watching from behind 
 the curtains his fellow-beings romping and 
 shrieking over a game of baby-in-the-hat. The 
 bottom had, indeed, dropped out of things the 
 universe was topsy-turvy. More keenly than in 
 the afternoon he felt the utter hopelessness of 
 his disgrace. If he could only get away 
 escape from it all. If he only had had five dol 
 lars in his pocket he could have reached Trenton 
 and worked his way to some seaport town. He 
 looked at the now ridiculous souvenir toilet set 
 and bitterly thought where the precious dollars 
 had gone that story, too, would be abroad by 
 the morrow. The whole school would probably 
 rise and jeer at him when he entered chapel the 
 next morning. That night he crept into his bed 
 to the stillness of the black room, to suffer a 
 long hour that first overwhelming anguish that 
 can only be suffered once, that no other suf 
 fering can compare to, that is complete, because 
 the knowledge of other suffering has not yet 
 come, and he who suffers suffers alone. Then the 
 imagination came to the rescue. He fell into bliss 
 ful unconsciousness by a process of consoling 
 half dreams in which he vindicated himself by 
 feats of extraordinary valor, carrying the suffo 
 cating Tough McCarty and the Coffee-colored 
 [92] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Angel out of burnng houses at the risk of his own 
 life, and earning the plaudits of the whole 
 school. 
 
 Suddenly a peal of thunder shook the build 
 ing; he landed all in a heap in the midst of the 
 sunlit floor, rubbing his eyes. Outside, the 
 morning came in with warm embrace; green 
 things stirred against the window-panes; the 
 flash of a robin s wing cut a swift shadow on 
 the floor and was gone. Below, the horrid 
 clanging of the gong rattled the walls and called 
 on the dead to rise. 
 
 Dink gazed at the opposite bed. Butsey, with 
 the covers wound around him, with his knees 
 under his chin, was actually asleep. In great 
 alarm he went over and shook him gently. One 
 eye opened and reproachfully fastened on him. 
 
 " I say, the gong the gong s rung, Mr. 
 White," said Dink. 
 
 " The rising gong? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, when the breakfast gong explodes 
 ;wake me up." 
 
 The eyes shut, but presently reopened and a 
 muffled voice added: 
 
 " Pour out water washbasin stick my shoes 
 over here." 
 
 Dink obeyed, mystified. Then, going to the 
 window, he drank in all the zest and glory of 
 [93] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 green fields and blue skies with woolly clouds 
 drifting over the tingling air. Joyfully he 
 turned for a plunge in cold water and the un 
 speakable crockery set met his eye. Then he re 
 membered. A shadow fell across the room; the 
 day went into eclipse. Mechanically, heavily, 
 he dressed, and the fever of yesterday sprang up 
 anew. 
 
 Meanwhile, not a sound in the House except 
 down the hall a snore a glorious, triumphant 
 note. A second time the gong took up its dis 
 cordant march. Then from the cocoon on the 
 bed a flash of legs and arms sprang out and 
 into the waiting garments. There was a splash 
 in the basin that spattered the water far and 
 near, and Butsey, enveloped in a towel, rushed 
 into his upper garments, flung: back his hair with 
 a masterful swooping stroke of the comb, and 
 bolted out of the door, buckling his belt and 
 struggling into a sweater. Down the stairs they 
 went in the midst of floating coats, collars to 
 be buttoned and neckties to be tied; and when 
 the last note of the gong had ended not a place 
 was vacant, though every eye still drooped with 
 drowsiness. 
 
 Breakfast over, Dink followed Butsey to their 
 room and, after the more permanent prepara 
 tions had been attended to, they left for chapel. 
 
 The much-dreaded breakfast had Dassed with 
 [94] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 but one incident; the Coffee-colored Angel, in 
 passing him the sugar, had said in a terrific 
 whisper: 
 
 " I ll get you to-day. I ll tame you ! " 
 
 But, being still in a nodding state, his anger 
 was contented with this slight expression. 
 Tough McCarty had given him just one look, but 
 somehow he remembered nothing else. The in 
 stinctive hostility he had felt at the first meet 
 ing of their eyes rose anew. The Coffee-colored 
 Angel and the White Mountain Canary were 
 but incidents; the enemy, le sacre Albion, was 
 Tough McCarty. 
 
 He went in the current of boyhood past 
 Foundation House and around the circle toward 
 chapel. For the first time the immensity of the 
 school was before him in the hundreds that, 
 streaming across the campus in thin, dotted 
 lines, swelled into a compact, moving mass at 
 the chapel steps. It was more than an institu 
 tion; it was a world, the complex, marvelously 
 ordered World of Youth. 
 
 Somehow, he did not attract the attention he 
 had expected. His entrance into the pew was 
 attended by no hilarious uprising en masse. He 
 found his place in the gallery, between Pebble 
 Stone and Duke Straus, who sleepily asked his 
 name and went off for a supplementary nap on 
 the shoulder of D. Tanner. Stone evidently had 
 [951 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 heard nothing of his disgrace, or else was too 
 absorbed in a hurried conning of the Latin les 
 son to make remarks. 
 
 Dink lifted his head a little and stole a 
 glance strange, no one seemed to be paying the 
 slightest attention to him. Somewhat aston 
 ished and unutterably relieved he gazed down 
 at the body of the school marshaled below, at 
 the enormous fifth-formers who seemed and 
 never was that illusion to fade- the most ter 
 rifically immense and awesome representatives 
 of manhood he had ever seen. The benches were 
 hard, decidedly so; but he lost himself pleas 
 antly in the vaulted roof, and gazed with re 
 spect at the distant pulpit. 
 
 The Doctor ascended and swept the school 
 with that glance peculiar to head masters which 
 convinces each separate boy it is directed at 
 him. Stover felt the impact on his own fore 
 head and dropped his eyes uneasily. When the 
 hymn began he looked curiously among his class 
 mates, located Doc Macnooder and caught the 
 eye of the Tennessee Shad, who winked at him 
 to show him he was still his friend. 
 
 Somehow, his awful disgrace seemed to slip 
 from him the Green House was but a grain in 
 the sand. There were friends, undiscovered 
 friends, in the mass before him, to be won and 
 held. An easier feeling came to him. Wheo 
 [96] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 the school shuffled out he sought the Tennes 
 see Shad and, holding out his hand said: 
 
 " Say, you are wonders ; and I m the only liv 
 ing sucker ! " 
 
 " Dink, you re a real sport," said the Tennes 
 see Shad, pleased ; " but we did come it pretty 
 strong. Now, if you want to turn in those 
 shoes " 
 
 " Not on your life ! " said Dink. " I deserved 
 it, but but look out for next year ! " 
 
 " All right," said the Tennessee Shad with an 
 approving look. "If you do us we ll take you 
 into the firm. Tack on to me, and I ll pilot you 
 to The Roman s." 
 
 Following his lanky guide Stover went in the 
 churning, lagging mass across to Memorial Hall, 
 rubbing elbows with the heroes, who stalked 
 majestically in their voluminous bulk, with the 
 coveted Varsity caps riding on the backs of 
 their cropped heads, or being jostled by the 
 freckled imps who ran zigzag, shrieking chases 
 past him. 
 
 At the steps they divided, some surging up 
 ward and others crowding into the lower cor 
 ridor. 
 
 "Below for us," said the Tennessee Shad, 
 pushing his way forward. 
 
 Dink found himself outside of one of the dozen 
 classrooms in a throng that waited hopefully, as 
 [97] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 other classes waited hopefully every hour of 
 every day in the hopes of an improbable cut. 
 
 " The Roman," said the Tennessee Shad wisely, 
 " is the one master you want to stand in with. 
 Study like the devil the first two weeks; and say, 
 get up on the gerund and the gerundive they re 
 his pets." 
 
 I will," said Dink. 
 
 "You can t bluff him and you can t beat his 
 system," continued the Tennessee Shad. " If you 
 guess don t hesitate ; jump at it. The only thing 
 you can do is to wait for his jokes, and then grab 
 the desk and weep for salvation it s his one 
 weak spot." 
 
 " I will," said Dink. 
 
 A cry of dismay went up from the sentinels at 
 the window. 
 
 " Oh, rats! Here he comes." 
 
 " Oh, peanuts ! " 
 
 " Oh, melancholy ! " 
 
 "All in!" 
 
 Dink modestly took a seat in the back, at the 
 end of the row of S s where he must sit. On 
 four sides, like prison walls that no convict 
 might hope to scale, the slippery blackboards 
 rose up and bound them in. On a raised stand 
 was the master s pulpit where presently The 
 Roman would come and sit, like the watcher of 
 the galley slaves in Ben Hur, with his eagle 
 
 [98] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 glance sweeping the desks that, in regimental 
 file, ran back from him. 
 
 Outside, through two open windows, was the 
 warm, forbidden month of April, and the gate 
 way to syntax-defying dreams. At this moment 
 Dink s copy of Cesar s Gallic Wars slid on to 
 the floor. He bent down, laboriously collecting 
 the scattered pages and straightened up. Then 
 he glanced at the pulpit. Directly in front of 
 him, his eyes on his eyes, sat the big consular 
 frame of his stage companion of the day before. 
 
 Dink gasped in horror; twice his hand went 
 instinctively toward his lip, stopped half-way 
 and dropped. Then his mouth opened, set, and 
 galvanically he rose to his feet, while the room 
 seemed to tip up. 
 
 He grasped the desk to keep from slipping, 
 never taking his eyes from the Ciceronian coun 
 tenance and the twinkling orbits above the 
 slightly twitching lips. 
 
 "Dear me," said a low, mocking voice with a 
 curious rising and falling infection, " who s here? 
 Another delegate to this congress of scintillat 
 ing intelligences? " 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Dink in a whisper. 
 
 "Quite a valuable addition, I hope. Yes? 
 What is the name?" 
 
 John." 
 
 "Well well?" 
 
 [99] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "John Humperdink Stover," said Dink with 
 difficulty. 
 
 "Ah, yes, Stover: the name is familiar very 
 familiar," said The Roman, with a twitch to his 
 lip and a sudden jump of the eyebrow. " Haven t 
 we met before?" 
 
 Dink, suffocating, nodded. The class, at a loss, 
 turned from one to the other, watching for the 
 cue. 
 
 " Well, Stover, come a little nearer. Take the 
 seat between Stone and Straus. Straus will be 
 better able to take his little morning nap. A 
 little embarrassed, Stover? Dear me! I shouldn t 
 have thought that of you. Sit down now and 
 try to put a little ginger into the class, St<>- 
 ver." 
 
 Dink looked down and blushed until it seemed 
 as though his hair would catch on fire. The 
 class, perceiving only that there was a point for 
 laughter, burst into roars. 
 
 " There there," said The Roman, stilling the 
 storm with one finger. " Just a little joke be 
 tween us two; just a little confidential joke. 
 Now for a bee-ootiful recitation. Splendid 
 spring weather yesterday was a cut; of course 
 you all took the hour to study conscientiously 
 eager for knowledge. Fifth and sixth rows go to 
 the board." 
 
 While The Roman s modulated accents doled 
 [100] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 out conjugations and declensions Stover sat, 
 without a thought in his head, his hands locked, 
 staring out at the green and yellow necktie that 
 rose on Pebble Stone s collar. 
 
 "Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!" he ; said at last. 
 "Dished! Spinked! He ll flunk ae -dv^- ttay. 
 I certainly am in wrong ! " 
 
 He raised his eyes at the enthroned Natural 
 Enemy and mentally threw down the gage of 
 battle with a hopeless, despairing feeling of the 
 three years daily conflict that was to come. 
 For, of course, now there could be no question of 
 The Roman s mortal and unsparing enmity. But 
 after the first paralyzing shock Dink recovered 
 himself. It was war, but the war he loved the 
 war of wits. 
 
 The Roman, having flunked a dozen by this 
 time, had Channing, the Coffee-colored Angel, 
 on his feet, on delicate matters of syntax. 
 
 " Top of page, third word, Channing gerund 
 or gerundive?" said The Roman. 
 
 " Gerund, sir." 
 
 " Too bad ! " said The Roman musically, and 
 on a lower octave repeated: " Too bad! Third 
 line, fifth word gerund or gerundive?" 
 
 "Gerund, sir," said the Coffee-colored Ange? 
 ivith more conviction. 
 
 "No luck, Channing, no luck. Tenth line, 
 last word gerund, Channing, or gerundive ? " 
 [101] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Gerund-ive," said the Coffee-colored Angel 
 hesitatingly. 
 
 " Poor Channing, he didn t stick to his system. 
 
 The laws of probability, Channing " 
 
 " I mean-t gerund," said the Coffee-colored An- 
 geL hastily, 
 
 " Dear me ! Really, Channing? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "Positive?" 
 
 "Absolutely, sir." 
 
 " It was the gerundive, Channing." 
 
 The Coffee-colored Angel abruptly sat down. 
 
 "Don t want to speculate any more, Chan 
 ning?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "No feeling of confidence no luck to-day? 
 Try the gerundive to-morrow." 
 
 The discouraged began to return from the 
 boards, having writ in water. The Roman, with 
 out malice, passed over the rows and, from flunk 
 ing them individually, mowed them down in sec 
 tions. 
 
 " Anything from the Davis House to-day? No, 
 no? Anything from the Rouse House combina 
 tion? Nothing at all? Anything from the 
 Jackson twins? Alas! How about the D s this 
 morning? Davis, Dark, Denton, Deer, Dickson, 
 nothing from the D s. Let s try the F s. Farr, 
 Fenton, Foster, Francis, Finch? Nothing from 
 [102] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 the F s nothing from the D F s! Nothing at 
 all?" 
 
 Dink burst into laughter, and laughed alone. 
 The Roman stopped. Every one looked sur 
 prised. 
 
 " Ah, Stover has been coached well coached," 
 said The Roman. " But, Stover, this is not the 
 place to laugh. The D F s are not a joke ; they 
 are painful, every day facts. Well, well, it has 
 been a beautiful recitation in the review not 
 exceptional, not exceptional at all. Has any one 
 the advance? Don t all rise at once. Strange 
 what trying weather it is too sunny, not 
 enough rain every one rises exhausted. Will 
 Macnooder kindly lead the massacre?" 
 
 Macnooder disdained to rise; one or two fal 
 tered and tripped along for brief spaces, and 
 then sat down. The Roman, counting his dead, 
 hesitated and called: 
 
 " Stover." 
 
 " Me, sir? " said Dink, too astonished to rise. 
 "Why, I m unprepared, sir." 
 
 "Unprepared?" said The Roman with a 
 wicked smile. " I never thought you would be 
 unprepared, Stover." 
 
 The smile decided Stover. 
 
 " I ll try, sir," he said. 
 
 " Very kind of you, Stover." 
 
 Dink rose slowly, put the book on his desk. 
 [103] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 tightened his belt, buttoned his coat and took 
 up the prosy records of Caesar. Pebble Stone 
 showed him the place. He straightened up and, 
 glancing at the first line, saw: 
 " Ubi eo ventum est, Cwsar initio orationis 
 
 5f 
 
 
 
 " CaBsar," began Dink in a firm voice, 
 
 "Excellent!" said The Roman. 
 
 " C^sar, wherever the wind blew him, initiated 
 the orators . . ." Dink continued smoothly, 
 after a rapid glance. 
 
 The Roman, from a listless attitude, gripped 
 the desk, pivoted clear on one leg of his chair, 
 staring at the familiar text as though it had sud 
 denly taken on life and begun to crawl about 
 the page. 
 
 Dink, resolved not to be bested, gravely and 
 fluently continued to glide on, without pause or 
 hitch, turning syllables into words, building sen 
 tences wherever he met an acquaintance. On 
 and on he went, glib and eloquent, weaving out 
 of the tangled text a picture that gradually, 
 freeing itself from the early restraints, painted 
 in vivid detail a spirited conference between 
 Caesar and the German envoys. The class, 
 amazed, resorted to their books; many of the 
 unprepared, quite convinced, stared at him as 
 though a new rival to the high markers had sud 
 denly appeared. 
 
 The Roman, fascinated, never quitted the text, 
 [104] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 marveling as the tale ran on, leaping adverbs 
 and conjunctions, avoiding whole phrases, un 
 dismayed by the rise of sudden, hostile nouns, 
 impressing into service whatever suited it, cor 
 rupting or beating down all obstacles. 
 
 Once or twice he twitched spasmodically, twice 
 he switched the leg of his chair, murmuring all 
 the while to himself. Finally he rose and, 
 slowly approaching to where Stover stood, 
 glanced incredulously at his book. 
 
 "Shall I stop, sir?" said Stover 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " 
 
 Stover completed the page with a graphic, 
 rushing account of the athletic exercises of the 
 ancient Germans, and sat down without a smile. 
 
 The Roman, back at his post, wiped his eyes 
 with his handkerchief and spoke: 
 
 "Very well run, indeed, Stover; excellently 
 well run. Take your breath. Very fluent, very 
 vivid, very persuasive a trifle free, a trifle 
 but, on the whole, a very creditable performance. 
 Very! I was sure, whatever you did, Stover, 
 you wouldn t bore us. Now, let us see how the 
 same passage will appeal to a more prosaic, less 
 richly-endowed mind." 
 
 Then Red Dog rose and, unfeelingly, brought 
 the scene back to Rome and the deliberations of 
 the Senate. 
 
 But this was a detail that did not interest Dink 
 in the least. He had clashed with The Roman 
 [1051 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 and not retreated. He had his first moment of 
 triumph, attested by the admiring glances of the 
 class and the muffled whisper of Straus, saying: 
 
 " Gee, you re a peach ! " 
 
 The session ended with a solemn warning from 
 The Roman. 
 
 "One word," he said in his deepest tones, 
 " just one word to the wise. We have journeyed 
 together for two whole terms; there is only one 
 more between you and reassignment. Candor 
 compels me to say that you have acquired not 
 even a flunking knowledge." He turned and 
 raked the awed ranks with the sweep of a pivot 
 gun, and then took up again in cutting, chilling, 
 spaced syllables: "I have, in the course of my 
 experience as a teacher, had to deal with imbe 
 ciles, had to deal with mere idiots ; but for sheer, 
 determined, monumental asininity I have never 
 met the equal of this aggregation. I trust this 
 morning s painful, disgraceful, disheartening ex 
 perience may never, never be repeated. You 
 may go." 
 
 And Stover, who had brazenly planned to re 
 main and converse, went swiftly out with the 
 rest, little imagining that he whom he had ranked 
 as a deadly, unforgiving foe sat a long while 
 chuckling over the marvelous route Dink had 
 gone, murmuring gratefully to himself: 
 
 " Wherever the wind blew him, Caesar initiated 
 the orators." 
 
 [106] 
 
VIII 
 
 In the hallway the Coffee-colored Angel jabbed 
 him with his elbow, muttering: 
 
 "You laughed at me, you miserable Rinky 
 Dink. I ll fix you for that." 
 
 He disappeared swiftly. Before Dink could 
 frame a reply he was surrounded by an admiring 
 chorus. The Tennessee Shad and Macnooder 
 shook hands with ceremony. 
 
 " You ll do," said the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 " You certainly will ! " said Doc Macnooder. 
 
 " You ve made a hit with Lucius Cassius," said 
 the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 Dink shook his head; he knew better. 
 
 "You must always recite always," said Doc 
 Macnooder, from his great knowledge of the 
 nature of masters. "Whether you re pre 
 pared or not recite." 
 
 " I will," said Dink. 
 
 " And say, Dink," said Macnooder, " keep that 
 outfit we sold you. There ll be more hayseeds 
 in the fall." 
 
 Dink had thought of that; he had thought of 
 something else, too, which he craftily hid in his 
 own memory. 
 
 [107] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Next fall I ll show them a thing or two," he 
 said gleefully. "I ll make souvenir crockery 
 sets the rage." 
 
 The Coffee-colored Angel and the petty annoy 
 ances of the Green House forgot, he went with a 
 hitch and a kick, loping along, while his deli 
 cately-balanced imagination, now soaring above 
 the gloomy descents of the morning, swam joy 
 fully in the realms of future triumphs. 
 
 In this abstracted mood he passed Founda 
 tion s gloomy portals and Laloo standing in his 
 door gazing down the road, and took the leafy 
 path that led to the Green. 
 
 All at once he heard a battle cry and, turning, 
 beheld the Coffee-colored Angel and the White 
 Mountain Canary spring from their concealment 
 and bear down upon him with unmistakable in 
 tent. Now, whether in a former existence Dink 
 had been parent to the fox, or whether the purely 
 human instinct was quicker than the reason, be 
 fore he knew what he had done he had bounded 
 forward and burst for home in full flight, 
 with his heart pumping at his ribs. Easily 
 distancing his pursuers, he arrived at the 
 Green House before it dawned upon him that he 
 had been challenged and run away. 
 
 He stopped abruptly with clenched fists, 
 breathing deep. 
 
 "Now let them come," he said, turning. 
 [108] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 But the Coffee-colored Angel and the White 
 Mountain Canary, having abandoned the hope- 
 less chase, had gone another way. 
 
 Angry and ashamed, Dink went to his room, 
 vowing terrific vengeance. He planted himself 
 before the mirror and, doubling up either arm, 
 felt the well-hardened muscles. 
 
 " There were two of them, and I didn t have 
 time to think," he said. " I ll fight em any of 
 >em." 
 
 Eeassured by the scowling ferocity of his re 
 flected countenance, he turned away. But, pass 
 ing near the window, he saw the Coffee-colored 
 Angel and the White Mountain Canary come 
 militantly up the stone walk. A moment later 
 their steps sounded on the stairs. He went 
 hastily to the door and shot the key. An instant 
 later the door was tried, and then the contemptu 
 ous face of the Coffee-colored Angel loomed 
 through the transom. 
 
 " I knew you were yellow the moment I looked 
 at you," he said scornfully. " Pah ! " 
 
 Dink did not answer. He was all in a whirl. 
 His action in locking the door, so contrary 
 to his heroic resolutions, left him in confu 
 sion. 
 
 " I wonder if I really am afraid, " he said, 
 sitting down- all in a heap. The look in the 
 Coffee-colored AngePs eye had brought him an 
 [ 109 ] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 unpleasant creeping sensation in the region of 
 the back. 
 
 And yet the Coffee-colored Angel, bone for 
 bone and inch for inch, was just what he was 
 only he had fled from him, inadvertently, in 
 stinctively, it is true, yet feeling the running 
 menace at his back. 
 
 " I m a coward ! " he said, staring at the oppo 
 site wall. "I must be a coward! If I weren t 
 I would have opened that door." 
 
 Now, Dink had never fought a real fight. He 
 had had a few rough-and-tumble skirmishes, but 
 a fight where you stood up and looked a map 
 in the whites of the eyes, a deliberate, planned- 
 out fight, was outside his knowledge, in the mists 
 of the unknown. And so his imagination 
 which later should be his strength recoiled be 
 fore that unknown as it had recoiled the moment 
 he stepped from the stage to face his new judges ; 
 as it had recoiled in the hushed parlor before the 
 closed door of the head master s den, and again 
 at the thought of stepping into the batter s box 
 and risking his head against the deadly shoots 
 of Nick Carter, of the Cleve. He had never 
 fought, therefore he was aghast at the fear of 
 being afraid. 
 
 "Well, I won t run again," he said desper 
 ately. " I ll have it over with he can only lick 
 me." 
 
 [110] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 But he did run again, and often, despite all 
 his resolves, impelled always by the psycholog 
 ical precedent that he had run before. 
 
 The Coffee-colored Angel and the White 
 Mountain Canary made a regular ceremony of 
 it, raising a hue and cry at the sight of him and 
 bursting into derisive laughter after short 
 chases. 
 
 Dink was miserable and now thoroughly 
 frightened. He slunk into the solitude of his 
 own company, avoiding the disdainful looks of 
 his House mates. He knew now he was a cow 
 ard and should never be anything else. He did 
 not blame Butsey, who scarcely spoke to him. 
 All he thought of was, by roundabout ways, to 
 put off the dreadful hour when either the Coffee- 
 colored Angel or the White Mountain Canary 
 should catch him and beat him to a quivering, 
 senseless pulp. 
 
 Then the unexpected happened. One day, cut 
 ting across fields to avoid his persecutors, he was 
 suddenly shut off by the White Mountain 
 Canary, who rose from ambush, jeering horribly. 
 Cut off from the Green, Dink returned post 
 haste up the village, when all at once the Coffee- 
 colored Angel closed in on him. Only one way 
 of escape was open to him, down an alley be 
 tween two houses. With the Coffee-colored An 
 gel at his heels he dashed ahead, turned the cor- 
 [111] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 ner of the house and found himself caught in a 
 blind area 
 
 Whereupon he turned on the Coffee-colored 
 Angel and slathered him, drove him hither and 
 thither with terrific blows, knocked him head 
 over heels, caught him by the throat and beat 
 him against a wall, rolled him on the ground 
 and rubbed him in the dust, tore his clothes, 
 blacked his eyes and left him beaten and su 
 pinely, passively wallowing. 
 
 He walked out on his tiptoes, like a terrier, 
 head erect, his chest out, fists still ii_ied, tears 
 in his eyes tears of pride and relief. He had 
 fought a fight, he had received terrific blows and 
 minded them not. He had thrashed the Coffee- 
 colored Angel : he could thrash or take a thrash 
 ing from any one. He had his first thrill, the 
 thrill of conscious rage, comparable only to first 
 love and first sorrow. He had licked the Coffee- 
 colored Angel he was not a coward! 
 
 At this highly-auspicious moment the unsus 
 pecting White Mountain Canary perceived the 
 despised object of his chase and, raising a shout, 
 triumphantly bore down upon him. With a 
 rush he cleared the intervening space and then, 
 catching sight of the new Dink, stopped as 
 though he had been jerked in by a rope. 
 
 A few moments later the group on the Green 
 [1121 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 House steps were lazily working out a French 
 translation, which Beekstein, the Secretary ol 
 the Department of Education, was reading to 
 them, when suddenly, in the fields opposite, two 
 figures appeared, zigzagging wildly. 
 
 "Here comes the Dink again/ said Stuffy 
 Brown. "They ll get him this time." 
 
 "Who s after him?" said Tough McCarty. 
 " He s a disgrace to the House." 
 
 " It s the White Mountain Canary," said Susie 
 Satterly. 
 
 "Hello!" said Cheyenne. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I ll be darned no yes dinged if it isn t 
 the Dink chasing the Canary ! " 
 
 As they sprang up, amazed, Stover dove at 
 the fleeing tormentor, caught him, and the two 
 went down in a heap, thrashing to and fro. 
 
 "Well, I ll be jig-swiggered ! " said Cheyenne. 
 
 " I ll eat my pants ! " 
 
 " The Dink ! " 
 
 At this moment the awful wreck of the Coffee 
 colored Angel limped up. A chorus broke out : 
 
 " The Coffee-colored Angel ! " 
 
 "Shot to pieces!" 
 
 " Massacred ! " 
 
 " Kicked by a horse ! " 
 
 "What hit you?" 
 
 " Dink," said the Coffee-colored Angel, taking 
 [H3J 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 a tooth out of his muddy mouth. " I caught 
 him." 
 
 Presently they saw Stover arise and loose the 
 battered White Mountain Canary, who broke 
 wildly for shelter. 
 
 " Well, anyhow," said the Coffee-colored An 
 gel, "Dink s swallowed the Canary." 
 
 "What s he up to now?" said Cheyenne. 
 
 They watched him approach the fence, deliber 
 ately take off his coat, remove his collar and 
 necktie, tighten his belt and methodically, slowly 
 roll up his sleeves. 
 
 " Here he comes," said the Coffee-colored An 
 gel, moving swiftly away " Why, he s crying ! " 
 
 Dink came up the path, choking with rage and 
 the knowledge of his own tears, and in front of 
 them all threw down his coat. 
 
 "You thought I was afraid, did you? You 
 thought I was a coward ! " he sobbed. " Well, 
 I ll show you whether I m afraid of you, any of 
 you, you big bullies! You big stuff, you, come 
 on!" 
 
 And suddenly advancing, he squared off and 
 struck Tough McCarty a wild blow, crash on the 
 nose. 
 
 [114] 
 
IX 
 
 They adjourned to a sheltered spot back of the 
 stump willows and chose a bare space of soft, 
 green turf. At their sides the brook ran splash 
 ing over the cool stones. 
 
 "Who ll be Dink s second?" said Cheyenne 
 Baxter, the referee. 
 
 There was an embarrassed pause. 
 
 "Go on, any of you," said Tough McCarty 
 generously. 
 
 " I ll be," said the Coffee-colored Angel. " He 
 licked me square." 
 
 He stepped over and held out his hand. 
 
 " I don t want you I don t want your hand ! " 
 said Dink with a scream. " I don t want any 
 second; I won t have any! I hate you I hate 
 the whole lot of you!" 
 
 Cheyenne Baxter consulted with Tough Mc 
 Carty and came over. 
 
 " Say, Dink," he said kindly, "Tough doesn t 
 want to fight you now; it isn t fair. He ll give 
 you a fight any time you want when you re 
 fresh." 
 
 " I don t want to wait," cried Stover, blubber 
 ing despite himself. "I ll fight him now. I ll 
 show him if I m afraid, the big bully!" 
 [115] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 " What rounds do you want? " said Cheyenne, 
 seeing it was wisest not to interfere. 
 
 " I don t want any rounds," cried Dink wildly. 
 " I want to get at him, the great, big mucker ! " 
 
 Cheyenne went over to Tough, who stood 
 apart, looking very uncomfortable. 
 
 "Better go on, Tough. Don t hurt the little 
 varmint any more than you have to." 
 
 It was a strange fight. They stood around in 
 silence, rather frightened at Stover s frenzy. 
 Tough McCarty, overtopping his antagonist by 
 four good inches, stood on the defensive, seeking 
 only to ward off the storm of frantic blows that 
 rained on him. For Dink cared not a whit 
 what happened to him or how he exposed him 
 self. 
 
 Blinded by rage, crying from sheer excess of 
 emotion, shrieking out inarticulate denuncia 
 tions, he flung himself on McCarty with the reck 
 lessness of a mad dervish, crying: 
 
 "You thought I was a coward, darn you! 
 You great, fat slob! You thought I was afraid 
 of a licking, did you? I ll show you. Lick me 
 now if you can, you big brute! Lick me every 
 day! I m not afraid of you!" 
 
 "Confound the lunatic!" said Tough Mc 
 Carty, receiving a solid thump in the ribs. " I 
 can t stand here, getting pummeled all day. Got 
 to hit him ouch ! " 
 
 [116] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Dink, in his frantic rush, throwing himself 
 under his enemy s guard, almost bore him to the 
 ground by the shock of his onslaught, McCarty, 
 angrily brushing the blood from his already out 
 raged nose with the cuff of his sleeve, shook 
 himself like an angry bear and, catching Stover 
 with a straight-arm blow, sent him rolling on the 
 turf. 
 
 Back again and again came Stover, hurling 
 himself wildly onto the scientific fists that sent 
 him reeling back. The green arms of the trees, 
 the gray faces of the onlookers, the blue of the 
 tilting sky rushed into the reeling earth, con 
 founded together. He no longer saw the being 
 he was fighting, a white film slipped over every 
 thing and then all went out in blank uncon 
 sciousness. 
 
 When he opened his eyes again he was on his 
 back, looking up through the willows at a puffy 
 cloud that turned against the blue. At his side 
 the brook went softly, singing in whispers the 
 note that stirred the leaves. 
 
 Something wet fell on his face and trickled 
 uncomfortably down his neck. Some one was 
 applying a dripping cloth. 
 
 "Coming to?" said Cheyenne Baxter. 
 
 Then Dink remembered. 
 
 "Where is he? " he cried, trying to spring up, 
 " Fight him, fight him to the end ! " 
 [117] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 A strong hand pressed him down. 
 
 " There, there, you fire-eater ! " said Cheyenne. 
 " Go easy. You ve had enough blood for one 
 afternoon. Lie back. Shut your eyes." 
 
 He heard whispering and the sound of voices 
 going, and lost consciousness again. 
 
 When he saw the face of the day once more he 
 was alone with Cheyenne, who was kneeling by 
 his side, smiling as he watched him. 
 
 "Better now?" 
 
 " I m all right." 
 
 " Let me carry you." 
 
 " I can stand." 
 
 Cheyenne s good right arm caught him as he 
 tottered and held him. 
 
 "I m all right," said Dink gruffly. 
 
 Aided by Cheyenne, he went weakly back to 
 the Green. At the steps Tough McCarty sprang 
 up and advanced with outstretched hand, say 
 ing: 
 
 " Put her here, Dink ; you re dead game ! " 
 
 Stover put his hand behind his back. 
 
 " I don t want to shake hands," he said, flush 
 ing and gazing at Tough McCarty until the 
 pupils of his eyes seemed to dwindle, " with you 
 or any of you. I hate you all ; you re a gang of 
 muckers. I ll fight you now: I ll fight you to 
 morrow. You re too big for me now, but I ll 
 lick you I ll lick you next year you, Tough 
 [118] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 McCarty or the year after that; you see if I 
 don t!" 
 
 Tough McCarty stood back, rightfully of 
 fended. Cheyenne led Dink up to his room and 
 lectured him. 
 
 " Now, young bantam, listen to me. You ve 
 shown your colors and we respect you for it. 
 But you can t fight your way into being liked 
 put that in your pipe and smoke it. You ve got 
 to keep a civil tongue in your head and quit 
 thinking this place was built for your special 
 benefit. Savez? You ve got to win your way 
 if you want to be one of us. Now, when you get 
 your head clear, go down and apologize to Tough 
 McCarty and the Angel, like a man." 
 
 The advice, which a day later would have been 
 gratefully received, came inopportunely for 
 Dink s overwrought nerves. He gave an angry 
 answer he did not want to be friends he hated 
 them all he would never apologize never. 
 
 When Butsey White came with friendly offers 
 he cut him short. 
 
 " Don t you come rubbering around now," he 
 said scornfully. " You went back on me. You 
 thought I was afraid. I ll do without your 
 friendship now." 
 
 When a calmer view had come to him he re 
 gretted what he had done. He eliminated Tough 
 McCarty that was a feud of the instincts 
 [119] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 but it certainly had been white of the Coffee- 
 colored Angel to offer to be his second ; Cheyenne 
 was every inch a leader, and Butsey really had 
 been justified. Unfortunately, his repentance 
 came too late ; the damage had been done. Only 
 one thing could right him an apology to the 
 assembled House; but as the courage to apolo 
 gize is the last virtue to be acquired if it ever 
 is acquired Dink in his pride would rather 
 have chopped off his hand than admit his error. 
 They had misjudged him; they would have to 
 come to him. The breach, once made, widened 
 rapidly due, principally, to Dink s own morbid 
 pride. Some of the things he did were simply 
 ridiculous and some were flagrantly impudent. 
 
 He was one against eight but one who had 
 learned his strength, who feared no longer the 
 experiences he knew. He stood ready to back 
 his acts of belligerency with his fists against 
 any one except, of course, Butsey White; for 
 roommates do not fight unless they love one 
 another. 
 
 He had always in him the spirit of the rebel. 
 To be forbid a thing, with him, was to do it in 
 stantly. He refused all the service a Freshman 
 should do. At table he took a malignant delight 
 in demanding loudly second and third helps of 
 the abhorrent prunes long after he had come 
 to feel the universal antagonism. He would not 
 [120] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 wake Butsey in the morning, fill his basin or 
 arrange his shoes. He would run no errands. 
 He refused to say sir or doff his hat to his supe 
 riors in the morning; and, being better supplied 
 with money, he took particular pleasure in en 
 tering the House with boxes of jiggers or tins 
 of potted meats and a bottle of rootbeer, with 
 which he openly gorged himself at night, while 
 Butsey squirmed over the unappetizing pages 
 of the Gallic Wars. 
 
 Finally, the blow came. Cheyenne Baxter, as 
 president of the House, appeared one evening 
 and hurled on him the ban of excommunication 
 from that hour he was to be put in Coventry. 
 
 From that moment no one spoke to him or by 
 the slightest look noticed his existence. Dink 
 at first attempted to laugh at this exile. 
 
 At every opportunity he joined the group on 
 fche steps. No one addressed him. If he spoke 
 no one answered. At table the Coffee-colored 
 Angel no longer asked him to pass his plate, but 
 passed it around the other way. He went out 
 in the evenings and placed his cap in line with 
 the other boys , but the ball never went into his 
 hat. If he stood, hoping to be hit, no one seemed 
 to notice that he was standing there. For sev 
 eral days he sought to brazen it out with a mis 
 erable, sinking feeling, and then he gave it up. 
 He had thought he cared nothing for the com- 
 [121] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 pany of his House mates lie soon discovered 
 his error and recognized his offending. But 
 apology was now out of the question. He was 
 a pariah, a leper, and so must continue a thing 
 to be shunned. 
 
 The awful loneliness of his punishment threw 
 him on his own resources. At night he lay in 
 his bed and heard Butsey steal out to a midnight 
 spread behind closed doors, or to join a band 
 that, risking the sudden creak of a treacherous 
 step, went down the stairs and out to wend 
 their way with other sweltering bands across the 
 moonlit ways, through negro settlements, where 
 frantic dogs bayed at the sticks they rattled over 
 the picket fences, to the banks of the canal for 
 a cooling frolic in the none too fragrant waters. 
 
 In the morning he could not join the group 
 that congregated to listen to Beekstein Secre 
 tary of Education straighten out the involved 
 syntax or track an elusive x to its secret lair. 
 In the afternoon he could not practice on the 
 diamond with them, learning the trick of hold 
 ing elusive flies or teaching himsel f to face thun 
 derous outshoots at the plate. 
 
 This enforced seclusion had one good result: 
 left to his own devices his recitations improved 
 tremendously, though this was scant consola 
 tion. 
 
 He kept his own company proudly, reading 
 [122] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 long hours into the land of Dumas and Victor 
 Hugo; straying up to the Varsity diamond, 
 where he cast himself forlornly on the grass, 
 apart from the groups, to watch Charlie DeSoto 
 dash around the bases, and wonderful Jo Brown 
 on third base scrape up the grounders and shoot 
 them to first. 
 
 He was too proud to seek other friends, for 
 that meant confession. Besides, his own class 
 mates were .all busy on their own diamonds, 
 working for the success of their own House 
 nines. 
 
 Only when there was a Varsity game and he 
 was swallowed up in the indiscriminate mass 
 that whooped and cheered back of first, thrilling 
 at a sudden crisis, did he forget himself a little 
 and feel a part of the great system. Once when, 
 in a game with the Princeton Freshmen, Jo 
 Brown cleared the bases with a sizzling three- 
 bagger, a fourth-former he didn t know thumped 
 him ecstatically on the back: and he thrilled 
 with gratitude. 
 
 But the rest was loneliness, ever recurrent 
 loneliness, day in and day out. His only friends 
 were Charlie DeSoto and Butcher Stevens at 
 first, whom he could watch and understand 
 feeling, also, the fierce spirit of battle cooped 
 up and forbidden within him. 
 
 One night in the second week of June, when 
 [123] 
 
THE VAEMINT 
 
 Butsey White had gone to a festal spread in 
 Cheyenne Baxter s rooms, Dink sat cheerlessly 
 over the Latin page, seeing neither gerund nor 
 gerundive. 
 
 The windows were open to the multiplied 
 chorus of distant frogs and the drone of near-by 
 insects. The lamp was hot, his clothes steamed 
 on his back. He thought of the rootbeer and 
 sarsaparilla being consumed down the hall and, 
 going to the closet, consulted his own store of 
 comforting things. 
 
 But to feast alone was no longer a feast at alL 
 He went to the window and sniffed the warm air, 
 trying to penetrate the outer darkness. Then, 
 balancing carefully, he let himself out and, 
 dropping on the yielding earth, went hungrily 
 up to the campus. 
 
 He had never been on the Circle before at 
 night, with all the lights about him. It gave 
 him a strange, breathless feeling. He sat down, 
 hugging his knees, in the center of the Circle, 
 where he could command the blazing windows 
 of the Houses and the long, lighted ranks of the 
 Upper, where the fourth-formers were singing 
 on the Esplanade. The chapel at his back was 
 only a shadow; Memorial Hall, a cloud hung 
 lower than the rest. 
 
 From his position of vantage he could hear 
 scraps of conversation through the open win- 
 [124] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 dows, and see dark figures flitting before the 
 mellow lamps. The fellowship in the Houses, 
 the good times, the feeling of home that hung 
 about each room came to him with acute poig 
 nancy as he sat there, vastly alone. In the whole 
 school he had made not a friend. He had done 
 nothing; no one knew him. No one cared. He 
 had blundered from the first. He saw his er 
 rors now only too plainly but they were be 
 yond retrieving. 
 
 There was only a week more and then it would 
 be over. He would never come back. What was 
 the use? And yet, as he sat there outside the 
 life and lights of it all, he regretted, bitterly 
 regretted, that it must be so. He felt the tug at 
 his heartstrings. It was something to win a 
 place in such a school, to have the others look 
 up to you, to have the youngsters turn and fol 
 low you as you passed, as they did with Charlie 
 DeSoto or Flash Condit or Turkey Reiter or a 
 dozen of others. Instead, he would drop out 
 of the ranks, and who would notice it? A few 
 who would make a good story out of that miser 
 able game of baseball. A few who would speak 
 of him as the freshest of the fresh, the fellow 
 who had to be put in Coventry if, indeed, any 
 one would remember Dink Stover, the fellow 
 who hadn t made good. 
 
 The bell clanged out the summons to bed for 
 [125] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 the Houses. One by one the windows dropped 
 back into the night; only the Upper remained 
 ablaze. 
 
 At this moment he heard somewhere in the 
 dark near him the sound of scampering feet* 
 The next moment a small body tripped over his 
 legs and went sprawling. 
 
 " What in the name of Willie Keeler ! " said 
 a shrill voice. "Is that a master or a human 
 being? " 
 
 " Hello ! " said Stover gruffly, to put down the 
 lump that had risen in his throat. "Who are 
 you. " 
 
 " Me? Shall we tell our real names? " said the 
 voice approaching and at once bursting out into 
 an elfish chant: 
 
 Wow, wow! Wow, wow, wow! 
 
 Oh, me father s name was Finnegan, 
 Me mother s name was Kate, 
 
 Me ninety-nine relations 
 To you I ll now relate. 
 
 " Oh, you re Dennis de Brian de Boru Finne 
 gan, are you? " said Dink, laughing as he dashed 
 his cuff across his eyes. " The kid that wrote 
 the baseball story." 
 
 " Sir, you do me honor," said Finnegan t 
 "Who are you?" 
 
 I m Stover." 
 
 [126] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "The Dink?" 
 
 "Yes, the Dink." 
 
 "The cuss that translates at sight?" 
 
 "You ve heard of it?" 
 
 " Cracky, yes ! They say The Roman was 
 knocked clean off his pins, first time in his life. 
 I say " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Then you re the fellow down in the Green, 
 aren t you?" 
 
 " Yes," said Dink, thinking only of the ban of 
 excommunication. 
 
 "Why, you re a regular cross-sawed, triple- 
 hammered, mule-kick, beef-fed, rarin -tearin 
 John L. Sullivan, ain t you?" said the exponent 
 of the double adjective in rapid admiration. 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Why, you re the cuss that smeared the An 
 gel, swallowed the Canary, and bumped Tough 
 McCarty, all at once." 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 "My dear boy, permit me you re it, you re 
 the real thing." 
 
 Dink, with a feeling of wonder, shook hands, 
 saying : 
 
 "Well, they don t think so much of it at the 
 Green." 
 
 " Anything wrong? " 
 
 "Nothing much." 
 
 [187] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 Finnegan, perceiving the ground was shaky, 
 switched. 
 
 " I say ? you want to get into the Kennedy next 
 year; we ve got the A No. 1 crowd there. I m 
 there, the Tennessee Shad, the Gutter Pup he s 
 the president of the Sporting Club, you know; 
 prize-fights and all that sort of thing and King 
 Lentz and the Waladoo Bird, the finest guards 
 Lawrenceville ever had. And say, you n I and 
 the Tennessee Shad could strike up a combine 
 and get out a rip-snorting, muzzle-off, all-the- 
 news, sporting expert, battle cry - of freedom 
 newspaper that would put the Lawrence out <*f 
 biz. I say, you must get in the Kennedy." 
 
 "I m not coming back." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " I guess my par-ticular style of talent isn t 
 suited around here." 
 
 " What s wrong? " 
 
 "Well, everything." 
 
 " I say, Dink, confide in me ! " 
 
 Stover, at that moment, in his loneliness, 
 would have confided in any one, especially the 
 first human being who had given him a thrill 
 of conscious pride. 
 
 " It s just this, youngster," he said, wondering 
 how to begin : " they don t like me." 
 
 "You like the school, don t you? " said Finne 
 gan in alarm. 
 
 [128] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Dink had never had the question put to him 
 before. He was silent and his look went swiftly 
 over to the coveted House of Lords. He drew a 
 long breath. 
 
 "You bet I do. I love it!" 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " I started wrong ; didn t understand the game, 
 I guess. They ve put me in Coventry." 
 
 <( You must have been pretty fresh." 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " Oh, don t mind me," said Dennis cheerfully. 
 * I m fresher than you ever thought of being, I 
 was the freshest bit of verdure, as the poet says, 
 that ever greened the place. I m the freshest 
 still. But I m different. I m under six inches 
 that s the cinch of it." 
 
 "Yes, I was fresh," said Dink, intensely re 
 lieved. 
 
 " You re always fresh if you re any good, the 
 first term," said Finnegan. "Don t mind that 
 Next year you ll be an old boy, and then they ll 
 follow you around for sugar." 
 
 " I hadn t thought of that," said Dink slowly. 
 
 " Keep a-thinking. I m off now. Ta-ta ! Got 
 to slink in Fatty Harris room before The 
 Roman makes his rounds. Proud to have met 
 you. Au revoir ! " 
 
 Dink sat a long while thinking, and a lighter 
 mood was on him. After all, he was not a 
 [129] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 blank. Some one had recognized him; some one 
 had taken his hand in admiration. He rose and 
 slowly made his way toward the singers on the 
 Esplanade, and by the edge of the road camped 
 under the shadows of an apple tree and leaned 
 his back against the trunk. 
 
 The groups of the Esplanade stood out in cut 
 outlines against the warm windows of the Read 
 ing-room. Above, the open windows were ten 
 anted by boys who pillowed their heads on one 
 another and sent their treble or bass notes down 
 to swell the volume below. 
 
 Led by a tenor voice that soared clear and 
 true above the rest came the melody to Stover 
 huddled under the apple tree : 
 
 At evening, when twilight is falling 
 
 And the birds to their nests are all gone, 
 We ll gather around in the gloaming, 
 
 And mingle our voices in song. 
 
 Yes, in song. , 
 The bright stars are shining above us, 
 
 Keeping their watch and ward. 
 We ll sing the old songs that we love, boys. 
 
 Out on the Esplanade. 
 
 Stover listened, pressing his knuckles to his 
 lips, raised out of himself by the accord of 
 voices and the lingering note of melancholy that 
 
 [130] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 was in the hour, the note of the dividing oi 
 the ways. 
 Again in deeper accents a song arose : 
 
 We sing the campus, green and fair. 
 
 We sing the leven and nine 
 Who battle for the old school there 
 
 And guard the base and line. 
 No cause for fear ichen they appear 
 
 And the school flag floats above our head. 
 When the game begins tis Lawrence wins, 
 
 While ice cheer the Black and Red. 
 When the game begins tis Lawrence wins, 
 
 While we cheer the Black and Red. 
 
 The song ended in lingering accents. Dink 
 shut his eyes, clenching his fists, seeing wonder 
 ful days when the school should gather to cheer 
 him, too, and lay its trust in him. 
 
 Suddenly near him in the road came the 
 crunching sound of footsteps, and a voice said : 
 
 u ls that you, Bill?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Bill, I wanted to say a word to you." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "We ve only got a few days more in the old 
 place. I don t want to go out with any hard 
 feelings for anybody, do you?" 
 
 "No," 
 
 11311 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Let s call it off! Shake hands." 
 
 Stover listened breathless, hearing little more, 
 understanding only that a feud had ceased, that 
 two enemies on the verge of the long parting 
 had held each other s hands, slapped each 
 other s backs with crude, embarrassed emotion, 
 for the sake of the memories that lived in the 
 shadow of a name. And something like a lump 
 rose again in Dink s throat. He no longer 
 thought of his loneliness. He felt in him the 
 longing to live as they had lived through the 
 glorious years, to know the touch of a friend s 
 arm about his shoulders, and to leave a name 
 to stand with the names that were going out. 
 
 He raised his fists grotesquely, unconsciously, 
 and swore an oath : 
 
 " No, I won t give up ; I ll never give up. I ll 
 come back. I ll fight it out ! " he said almost 
 aloud. " I ll make ? em like me. I ll make em 
 proud of me." 
 
 [132] 
 
My father sent me here to Lawrenceville, 
 And resolved that for college I d prepare; 
 
 And so I settled down 
 
 In this ancient little town, 
 About five miles away from anywhere. 
 
 Five miles away from anyichere, my boys, 
 Where old Lawrenceville evermore shall stand. 
 For has she not stood since the time of the flood. 
 About five miles away from anywhere? 
 
 The school was returning after the long sum 
 mer vacation, rollicking back over the dusty, 
 Trenton highway, cheering and singing as they 
 came. 
 
 Jimmy, on the stage, was swallowed up in the 
 mass of exultant boyhood that clustered on the 
 top like bees on a comb of honey, and clung to 
 step and strap. Inside, those who had failed of 
 place stuck long legs out of the windows, and 
 from either side beat the time of the choruses. 
 
 " Next verse ! " shouted Doc Macnooder as 
 leader of the orchestra. 
 
 [133] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 The First Form then I gayly entered, 
 And did so well, I do declare, 
 
 When they looked my record o er 
 
 r All the masters cried "Encore!" 
 About five miles away from anywhere. 
 
 " Chorus ! " cried Macnooder. " Here, you 
 legs, keep together! You re spoiling the effect." 
 
 Dink Stover sat quietly on the second seat, 
 joining in the singing, but without the rollick 
 ing abandon of the others. He Jiad shot up 
 amazingly during the vacation and taken on 
 some weight, but the change was most marked 
 in his face. The roundness was gone and with 
 it the cherubic smile. The oval had lengthened, 
 the mouth was straighter, more determined, and 
 in the quiet set of eyes was something of the 
 mental suffering of the last months. He had 
 returned, wondering a little what would be his 
 greeting. The first person he had met was the 
 Coffee-colored Angel, who shook hands with 
 him, pounded him on the back and called him 
 "Good old Dink." He understood the ban 
 was lifted. But the lesson had been a rude 
 one; he did not intend to presume. So he sat, 
 an observer rather than a participant, not yet 
 free of that timidity which, once imposed, is so 
 difficult to shake off. 
 
 The stage, which was necessarily making slow 
 [134] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 progress, halted at the first hill, with a sudden 
 rebellion on the part of the long suffering 
 horses. 
 
 " All out ! " shouted Macnooder. 
 
 In a jiffy every boy was on the ground. 
 
 " All push ! " * 
 
 The stage, propelled by dozens of vigorous 
 hands, went up the hill on a run. 
 
 " Same places ! " 
 
 "All ready?" 
 
 "Let her go!" 
 
 Mamie Reilly, being discovered on the roof 
 and selfishly claimed below, was thrust kicking 
 and wriggling over the side and into the ready 
 hands at the window. 
 
 "All ready, orchestra?" said Macnooder. 
 
 "Aye, aye, sir." 
 
 "All legs in the air!" 
 
 " Aye, me Lord ! " 
 
 "One, two, three!" 
 
 And then the Second Form received me, 
 Where I displayed such genius rare, , 
 
 That they begged me to refrain, 
 
 It was going to my "brain. 
 About five miles away from anywhere! 
 
 Meanwhile, at the approach of the astounding 
 coAch ? which looked like a drunken centipede, 
 [135] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 the farmers stopped their plows or came to the 
 thresholds, shading their eyes; while the cattle 
 in the fields put up their tails and bolted, fling 
 ing out their heels, amid triumphant cheers from 
 the students. 
 
 All the while, the bulk of the school in two 
 seaters, and three seaters, the Fifth Formers, 
 the new Lords of Creation, in buggies specially 
 retained, went swirling by exchanging joyful 
 greetings. 
 
 " Oh you, Doc Macnooder !" 
 
 "Why, Gutter Pup! You old son-of-a-gun ! " 
 
 " Look at the Coffee-Colored Angel ! " 
 
 "Where s Lovely Mead?" 
 
 " Coming behind." 
 
 "Hello, Skinny." 
 
 "Why, you Fat Boy!" 
 
 " See you later." 
 
 " Meet me at the Jigger Shop." 
 
 "There s Stuffy!" 
 
 " Hello, Stuffy ! Look this way ! " 
 
 " Look at the Davis House bunch ! :? 
 
 "Whose legs are those?" 
 
 HaUecjenoo, nac k, nack! 
 Hallegenoo, nack, nack! 
 ^Hooray! Hooray! 
 Lawrenceville ! 
 
 "Next verse," shouted Doc Macnooder 
 [136] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Legs at attention. More action there! La- 
 da-da-dee ! One, two, three ! " 
 
 In course of time, I reached the Third Form, 
 But was caught in examination s snare. 
 
 Reassignment played its part, 
 
 And it almost broke my heart, 
 About five miles away from anywhere. 
 
 "What house are you in?" said the Coffee- 
 Colored Angel to Stover, between breaths. 
 
 " Kennedy." 
 
 "The Roman, eh?" 
 
 "Yes, he reached out and nabbed me," said 
 Stover, who was persuaded that his new assign 
 ment was a special mark of malignant interest. 
 
 "Who are you rooming with?" 
 
 " The Tennessee Shad." 
 
 "Well, you ll be a warm bunch!" 
 
 A shout burst out from the back of the coach. 
 
 " A race, a race ! " 
 
 " Here come the Tennessee Shad and Brian 
 de Boru." 
 
 " Turn out, Jimmy ! " 
 
 " Give em room ! " 
 
 " Go it, Dennis ! " 
 
 "Go it, Shad!" 
 
 Two runabouts came up at a gallop, neck and 
 neck, four boys in each, the Tennessee Shad 
 [137] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 standing at the reins in one, Dennis de Brian de 
 Boru Finnegan in the other, each firmly 
 clutched about the waist by the boy on whose 
 knees he jolted and jostled. 
 
 " Push on the reins ! " 
 
 " Home run, Dennis ! " 
 
 "Swim out, you Shad!" 
 
 - Pass him, Dennis! Pass him!" 
 
 " Shad wins ! 
 
 " Look at his form, will you ! " 
 
 " Oh, you jockey ! " 
 
 "Shad wins! " 
 
 " Hurrah ! " 
 
 " Hurray ! " 
 
 "Hurroo!" 
 
 But at this moment, when it seemed as though 
 the race was to go to the Tennessee Shad s nag, 
 which had that superiority which one sacrificial 
 horse in a Spanish bullfight ring has over 
 another, Dennis de Brian de Boru suddenly pro 
 duced the remnants of a bag of cream puffs and, 
 by means of three well-directed, squashing shots 
 on the rear quarters of his coal-black steed, 
 plunged ahead and won the road, amid terrific 
 cheering. 
 
 " Dennis forever ! " 
 
 " Oh, you, Brian de Boru ! " 
 
 "Get an Eclair, Shad!" 
 
 "Get an omelet!" 
 
 "Get a tomato!" 
 
 [138] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Get out and push ! " 
 
 The racers disappeared in mingled clouds of 
 dust. 
 
 Macnooder, whirling around like a dervish on 
 the stage top, conducted the next verse. Sud 
 denly another shout went up. 
 
 " Here comes Charlie DeSoto and Flash 
 Condit." 
 
 " Three cheers for the football team ! " 
 
 " How are you, Charlie? " 
 
 "Flash, old boy!" 
 
 " What do you weigh? " 
 
 "Pretty fit?" 
 
 " Too bad you can t run, Flash ! " 
 
 " What ll we do to Andover? " 
 
 DeSoto and Condit passed, acknowledging the 
 salutations with joyful yelps. 
 
 "Give ? em the Fifty-six to Nothing, boys," 
 shouted Macnooder. " All you tenor legs get 
 into this. Oom-pah! Corn-pah! Oom-pah! 
 One, two, three!" 
 
 There is a game called football, 
 
 And that s the game for me. 
 And Laicrenceville can play it, 
 
 As you mil shortly see. 
 She goes to all the schools about, 
 
 And icith them wipes the ground. 
 For it s fifty-six to nothing, boys, 
 
 When Lawrenceville s around. 
 [139] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 She has a gallant rush-line 
 
 That wears the Red and Black. 
 Each man can carry the ball through 
 
 With six men on his back. 
 They carry it through the middle 
 
 And then they touch it down. 
 For it s fifty -six to nothing, boys, 
 
 When Lawrenceville } s around. 
 
 Little by little Stover was drawn into the 
 spirit of the song. He forgot his aloofness, he 
 felt one of them, thrilling with the spirit of the 
 coming football season. 
 
 " Gee, it s great to be back," he found himself 
 saying to Butcher Stevens next to him. 
 
 "You bet it is!" 
 
 "Charlie DeSoto looks fit, doesn t he?" 
 
 " He s eight pounds heavier, Doc tells me." 
 
 " By George, that s fine ! " 
 
 They stopped to sing the third verse. 
 
 "It won t be any fifty-six to nothing when 
 Andover comes around," said Butcher gruffly. 
 
 "We ve got to hustle? " asked Stover respect 
 fully of the Varsity left tackle. 
 
 " We certainly have ! " 
 
 "What s the prospects?" 
 
 " Behind the line, corking. It s the line s the 
 trouble no weight." 
 
 " There may be some new material." 
 [140] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " That s so." Stevens looked him over with 
 an appraising eye. "Played the game?" 
 
 "No, but I m going to." 
 
 "What do you strip at?" 
 
 "Why, about 140138." 
 
 " Light." 
 
 " I thought I might try for the second eleven." 
 
 "Perhaps. Better learn the game, though, 
 with your House team." 
 
 Hearing them talk football the crowd eagerly 
 began to ask questions. 
 
 "Who s out for center?" 
 
 "Will they move Tough McCarty out to end? " 
 
 "Naw, he s too heavy." 
 
 " I d play him at center, and stick the Wala- 
 doo Bird in at tackle." 
 
 "You would, would you? Shows what you 
 know about it." 
 
 "Butcher, you ll be in at tackle, won t you?" 
 
 " Hope so," said Stevens laconically. 
 
 Stover, who had entered the observant stage 
 of his development, noted the laconic, quiet an 
 swer and stored it away for classification and 
 meditation among the many other details that 
 his new attitude of watchful analysis was heap 
 ing up. 
 
 "There s the water tower! I see the water 
 tower ! " cried a voice. 
 
 "I seethe Cleve!" 
 
 [141] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "All up!" 
 
 "Long cheer for the school !" 
 
 "All together!" 
 
 "Rip her out!" 
 
 They gave a cheer and then two more. 
 
 "Now, fellows," said Doc Macnooder shrilly, 
 as master of ceremonies, " we want to pull this 
 off in fine shape. We re going to drive around 
 the Circle. And I want this orchestra to keep 
 together. Whose legs are those with the can 
 non-cracker socks?" 
 
 " Beekstein s," cried several voices from in 
 side. 
 
 " Well, he s rotten. He gums the whole show. 
 Now, get together, fellows, will you?" 
 
 "We will!" 
 
 As they turned to enter the campus the voice 
 of the master spoke, clanging its inexorable note 
 from the old Gym. Instantly a shout broke 
 out: 
 
 "Hang the old thing!" 
 
 "Drown it!" 
 
 " Down with the Gym bell ! " 
 
 "Murder!" 
 
 "Oh, Melancholy!" 
 
 " Silence ! " cried the bandmaster. " Give em 
 The Gym Bell all ready below! La-da-da- 
 dee!" 
 
 "Too high!" 
 
 [142] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " La-da-da-Jwm. Slow and melancholy. One, 
 two, three ! " 
 
 When the shades of night are falling 
 
 Round our campus, green and fair, 
 r All the drowsy sons of Lawrence 
 
 To their couches then repair. 
 Soon the slumber god has bound them 
 
 With his spell of magic power, 
 And he holds them thus enchanted 
 
 Till the early morning hour. 
 
 "Up legs and at ? em now, Rip her out- 
 chorus!" 
 
 Till awakened 
 By the clanging 
 And the banging 
 And the whanging 
 From the cupola overhanging, 
 Of that ancient Gym bell! 
 
 Cheered by the new fifth -formers, who came 
 laughing to the windows to hail them, the stage 
 went gloriously around the Circle and came to 
 a stop. 
 
 "Here we are back at the same old grind," 
 said Butcher Stevens. 
 
 "Frightful, isn t it?" said Stover; and the 
 rest made answer: 
 
 [143] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Back at the grindstone!" 
 "Hard luck!" 
 "We re all slaves!" 
 " Nothing to eat ! " 
 "Nothing to do!" 
 "Stuck in a mudhole!" 
 
 [144] 
 
XI 
 
 At the Kennedy steps The Roman was waiting 
 for him. Stover shook hands or, rather, al 
 lowed The Roman to pump him, as was the 
 custom. 
 
 "Why, dear me dear me this is actually 
 Stover ! " said The Roman. " Well, well ! How 
 you have grown shouldn t have known you. 
 Had a pleasant vacation? Yes? Glad to have 
 you in the Kennedy. It s a good House good 
 boys manly, self-reliant, purposeful. You ll 
 like em." 
 
 The Roman released Stover s hand, which had 
 grown limp in the process, and said with a 
 twinkle to his quick little eyes: 
 
 " Don t put too much ginger into them, 
 Stover." 
 
 This remark confirmed Stover s darkest sus 
 picions. 
 
 " I ll scatter a little ginger around all right," 
 he said under his breath, as he climbed the stairs 
 to his room. " He thinks he has the laugh on 
 me, does he? Well, we ll see who laughs last!" 
 
 On the third floor the Tennessee Shad and 
 Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan, from their 
 respective trunks, were volubly debating the 
 [145] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 merits of Finnegan s victory the Tennessee 
 Shad claiming that the external application of 
 cream puffs was equivalent to doping and in 
 validated the result. 
 
 "Hello!" said Dink. 
 
 " Why, it s my honorable roommate," said the 
 Tennessee Shad, emerging with a load of flan 
 nels. 
 
 " It s the Dink himself," said Dennis, gambol- 
 ing up. "Welcome to our city ! " 
 
 "I hear I m rooming with you," said Stover, 
 shaking hands with the Shad. 
 
 "You certainly are, my bounding boy." 
 
 "Where s the room?" 
 
 " Straight ahead, turret room, finest on the 
 campus, swept by ocean breezes and all that 
 sort of thing. 9 
 
 "Why, Dink," said Dennis de Brian de Boru 
 in affectionate octaves, "you old, slab-sided, 
 knock-kneed, baby-cheeked, wall-eyed, battling 
 Dink. You ve grown ee-normously." 
 
 "How s your muscle?" said the Tennessee 
 Shad, with an ulterior motive. 
 
 " Feel it," said Stover, who had consecrated 
 the summer to the same. 
 
 "Hard as a goat," said Dennis after an ad 
 miring whistle. " All nice little cast-iron, jerky 
 bunches, ready and willing. Been in training, 
 Dink?" 
 
 [146] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 u Yes, just so." 
 
 " Feels sort of soft to me," said the Tennessee 
 Shad pensively. 
 
 " Oh, it does? " 
 
 " Question : what can you do with it ? Lift 
 a trunk as heavy as this?" 
 
 " Huh ! " said Stover, bending down. "Where 
 do you want it?" 
 
 " Gee ! I do believe he can carry it almost to 
 the room," said the Tennessee Shad, whose 
 theory of life was to admire others do his work 
 for him. 
 
 Stover bore it proudly on his shoulders and 
 set it down. Dennis, planting himself arms 
 akimbo, surveyed him with melancholy disap 
 proval. 
 
 " Too bad, Dink ! I had expected better things 
 from you. You re still green, Dink. Been too 
 much with the cows and chickens. Don t do 
 it; don t do it!" 
 
 Stover glanced at the Tennessee Shad, 
 who, satisfied, had curled himself up on the 
 bed, to rest himself after the exertion of walk 
 ing. 
 
 " I guess I am still a sucker," he said, scratch 
 ing his head with a foolish grin, " I ll not be so 
 easy next time." 
 
 "Never mind, Dink," said Dennis comfort 
 ingly. " Your education s been neglected, but 
 [147] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Fin here. Remember that, Donnis is here, ready 
 and willing." 
 
 Presently the Gutter Pup and Lovely Mead 
 came tumbling in, and then the lumbering pro 
 portions of P. Lentz, King of the Kennedy, 
 crowded through the doorway, and the conver 
 sation continued in rapid crossfire. 
 
 "Who s seen the Waladoo Bird?" 
 
 "Jock Hasbrouck s dropped into the third 
 form." 
 
 "What do you think of the electric lights 
 they ve given us? " 
 
 " They ve stuck an arc light in the Circle, too." 
 
 "We ll fix that." 
 
 " How s the new material, King? " 
 
 " Rotten !" 
 
 " Think we ve a chance for the House cham 
 pionship?" 
 
 " A fine chance to finish last." 
 
 "Say, who do you think they ve stuck us 
 with?" 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Beekstein." 
 
 " Suffering Moses ! " 
 
 " Never mind. We ve got the Dink." 
 
 "What s he do?" 
 
 "*He s the champion truckman carry your 
 trunk for you anywhere you want." 
 
 Dink, thus brought unwillingly into the con 
 versation, blushed a warm red. 
 [148] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Truckman? " said P. Lentz, mystified. 
 
 " 6 Champion," said Finnegan. " The myster 
 ious champion truckman of Broad Street Sta 
 tion, Philadelphia. Stand up, Dink, my man, 
 and twitch your muscles." 
 
 Stover squirmed uneasily on his chair. There 
 was no malice in the teasing, and yet he was at 
 a loss how to turn it. 
 
 The Gutter Pup, as president of the Sporting 
 Club and chief authority on the life and works 
 of the late Marquis of Queensberry, examined 
 the embarrassed Stover, running professional 
 fingers over his legs and arms. 
 
 " You re the fellow who tried to fight the 
 whole Green House, aren t you?" he said, im 
 mensely interested. 
 
 " Why, yes." 
 
 " Good nerve," said the Gutter Pup. " You ve 
 got something the style of Beans Middleton, 
 who stood up to me for ten rounds in the days 
 of the old Seventy-second Street gang. I ll 
 train you up some time. You d do well with the 
 crouching style good reach, quick on the trig 
 ger and all that sort of thing. Like fighting?" 
 
 " Why, I I don t know," said Stover help 
 lessly, unable to make out whether the Gutter 
 Pup spoke in jest. 
 
 " Modest and brave ! " said the irrepressible 
 Finnegan. 
 
 The conversation drifted away; Stover, with 
 [149] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 a sigh of relief, obliterated himself in a corner^ 
 feeling immense distances between himself and 
 the laughing group that continued to exchange 
 rapid banter. 
 
 "Dennis, they tell me you re fresher than 
 ever." 
 
 " Sir, you compliment me." 
 
 "Say, Boru, have they put you on the bottle 
 yet?" 
 
 " Not yet, Lovely. Waiting for you to drop 
 it," 
 
 It was not particularly brilliant, but it was 
 good-natured, and there was a certain trick to 
 it that he had lost in the long weeks of Cov 
 entry. 
 
 Presently the group departed to take the keen 
 edge off the approaching luncheon pangs by a 
 trip to the Jigger Shop, the center of social life. 
 
 "Coming, Dink?" said the Gutter Pup. 
 
 " I I ll be over a little later," said Stover> 
 who did and did not want to go. 
 
 Left alone, half angry at his own enforced 
 aloofness, and yet desiring solitude, Stover 
 stood among the litter of boxes and gaping 
 trunks and surveyed the four bare walls that 
 spelled for him the word home. 
 
 " It s a bully room bully," he said to him 
 self with a tender feeling of possession. " The 
 Shad s a bully fellow bully! Dennis is a 
 [150] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 corker! I m going to make good; see if I donV. 
 But I m going slow. They ve got to come to me. 
 I won t break in until they want me. Gee! 
 What a peach of a room ! " 
 
 He went to the window and looked out at the 
 whole panorama of the school that ran beneath 
 him, from the long, rakish lines of the Upper, 
 by Memorial Hall, to the chapel and the circle 
 of Houses that ended at the rear with the Dick* 
 inson. Below, boys were streaking across the 
 green depths like water-bugs over limpid sur 
 faces, or hallooing joyfully from window to ter 
 race, greeting one another with bearlike hugs, 
 tumbling about in frolicking heaps. He was 
 on the mountain, they on the plain. His was the 
 imaginative perspective and the troubled vision 
 of one who finds a strange city at his feet. 
 
 " It s all there," he said lamely, confused by 
 his own impressions. "All of it." 
 
 " Homesick ? " said a thin voice behind him. 
 
 He turned to find Finnegan eyeing him uncer 
 tainly. 
 
 "Why, you wild Irishman," Dink said, sur 
 prised. "Thought you d gone with the crowd. 
 Hello, what s up now?" 
 
 Finnegan, with an air of great mystery, locked 
 the door, extracted the key and, returning, en 
 throned himself on a chair which he had pre 
 viously planted defiantlv on a trunk. 
 [151] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "That s so you can t throw me out." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I m going to be fresh as paint." 
 
 "You are?" said Stover, mystified and 
 amused. 
 
 "Fact," said Finnegan, who, having crossed 
 his legs, plunged his hands into his pockets and 
 cocked one eye, said impressively : " Dink, you re 
 wrong." 
 
 "I am am I?" 
 
 " But never mind ; I m here. Dennis de Brian 
 de Boru Finnegan ready and willing." 
 
 " Irishman, I do believe you re embarrassed/ 
 said Stover, surprised. 
 
 " I m not," said Finnegan indignantly. "Only 
 only, I want to be impressive. Dink, you re 
 getting in wrong again." 
 
 " What in thunder " 
 
 "You are, Dink, you are. But don t worry , 
 I m here. In the first place, you can t forget 
 what every one else has forgotten." 
 
 " Forget what? " 
 
 "The late unpleasantness," said Finnegan, 
 with an expelling wave of his hand. " That s 
 over, spiked, dished, set back, covered up, cob- 
 webbed, no flowers and no tombstone." 
 
 "I know." 
 
 "No, you don t that s just it. You ve got 
 it on your mind brooding and all that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 [152] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover sat down and stared at the Lilliputian 
 philosopher. 
 
 " Well, I like your nerve ! " 
 
 "Don t don t start in like that," said Fin- 
 negan, rolling up his sleeves over his funny, thin 
 forearms, " cause I shall have to thrash you." 
 
 " Well, go on," said Stover suddenly. 
 
 "You re not in Coventry you never have 
 been. You re one of us," said Dennis glibly. 
 "BUT I repeat BUT you can t be one of us 
 if you don t believe in your own noddle that you 
 are one of us! Get that? That s deep &o 
 charge, always glad to oblige a customer." 
 
 " Keep on," said Stover, leaning back. 
 
 "With your kind permission, directly. It s 
 all in this you haven t got the trick." 
 
 "The trick?" 
 
 "The trick of conversation. That s not just 
 it. The trick of answering back. Aha, that s 
 better! Scratch out first sentiment. Change 
 signals ! " 
 
 " There s something in that," said Stover, 
 genuinely amazed. 
 
 " You blush." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "The word was blush," said Finnegan firmly. 
 "I saw you Finnegan saw you and grieved. 
 And why? Because you didn t have the trick 
 of answering back." 
 
 " Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan," said 
 [153] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover slowly, " I believe you are a whole 
 hearted little cuss. Also, you re not so far off, 
 either. Now, since this is a serious conversa 
 tion, this is where I stand: I went through 
 Hades last spring I deserved it and it s done 
 me good. I ve come back to make good. Savez? 
 And that s a serious thing, too. Now if you 
 have one particular theory about your art of 
 conversation to elucidate eluce." 
 
 " One theory ! " said Finnegan, chirping along 
 as he perceived the danger-point passed. " I m 
 a theorist, and a real theorist doesn t have one 
 theory; he has dozens. Let me see; let me think, 
 reflect, cogitate, tickle the thinker. Best way is 
 to start at the A, B, C first principles, all that 
 sort of thing. Supposin , supposin you come 
 into the room with that hat on it s a bum hat, 
 by the way and some one pipes up ; Get that 
 at the fire sale? What are you going to an 
 swer?" 
 
 " Why, I suppose I d grin," said Stover slowly, 
 "and say: How did you guess it? " 
 
 " Wrong," said Finnegan. " You let him take 
 the laugh." 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 " Something in this style : Oh, no, I traded it 
 for luck with a squint-eyed, humpbacked biter- 
 off of puppy-dog tails that got it out of Rocke 
 feller s ashcan. See? " 
 
 [154] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " No, Dennis, no," said Stover, bewildered. 
 " I see, but there are some things beyond me. 
 Every one isn t a young Shakspere." 
 
 " I know," said Finnegan, accepting the trib 
 ute without hesitation. "But there s the prin 
 ciple. You go him one better. You make him 
 look like a chump. You show him what you 
 could have said in his place. That shuts him 
 up, makes him feel foolish, spikes the gun, corks 
 the bottle." 
 
 "By Jove!" 
 
 " It s what I call the Superiority of the Su 
 perlative over the Comparative." 
 
 " It sounds simple," said Stover pensively. 
 
 "When you know the trick." 
 
 " You know, Dennis," said Stover, smiling 
 reminiscently, "I used to have the gift of gab 
 once, almost up to you." 
 
 " Then let s take a few crouching starts," said 
 Dennis, delighted. 
 
 "Go ahead." 
 
 " Room full of fellows. You enter." 
 
 I enter." 
 
 "I speak: Dink, I bet Bill here a quarter 
 that you used a toothbrush. " 
 
 "You lose," said Stover; "I use a whisk- 
 broom." 
 
 " Good ! " said Dennis professionally, " but a 
 little quicker, on the jump, get on the spring- 
 [155] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 board. Try again. Why, Dink, how do you 
 get such pink cheeks? " 
 
 " That s a hard one," said Dink. 
 
 "Peanuts!" 
 
 " Let me think." 
 
 " Bad, very bad." 
 
 "Well, what would you say?" 
 
 " Can t help it, Bill ; the girls won t let me 
 alone!" 
 
 " Try me again," said Stover, laughing. 
 
 " Say, Dink, did your mamma kiss you good- 
 by? " 
 
 " Sure, Mike," said Stover instantly ; " combed 
 my hair, dusted my hands, and told me not to 
 talk to fresh little kids like you." 
 
 " Why, Dick, come to my arms," said Dennis, 
 delighted. "A Number 1. Mark 100 for the 
 term. That s the trick." 
 
 "Think I ll do?" 
 
 " Sure pop. Of course, there are times when 
 the digestion s jumping fences and you get sort 
 of in the thunder glums. Then just answer, 
 Is that the best you can do to-day ? ? or Why, 
 you re a real funny man, aren t you? sarcastic 
 and sassy." 
 
 "I see." 
 
 " But better be original." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 "Oh, it s all a knack." 
 [156] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "And to think that s all there is to it! " said 
 Stover, profoundly moved. 
 
 " When you know," said Dennis in correction. 
 
 "Dennis, I have a thought," said Stover sud 
 denly. "Let s get out and try the system." 
 
 "Presto!" 
 
 "The Jigger Shop?" 
 
 "Why tarry?" 
 
 On the way over Dink stopped short with an 
 exclamation. 
 
 "What now?" said Finnegan. 
 
 " Tough McCarty and a female," said Stover 
 in great indignation. 
 
 They stood aside, awkwardly snatching off 
 their caps as McCarty and his companion passed 
 them on the walk. Stover saw a bit of blue 
 felt with the white splash of a wing across, 
 a fluffy shirtwaist, and a skirt that was a skirt, 
 and nothing else. His glance went to McCarty, 
 meeting it with the old, measuring antagonism. 
 They passed. 
 
 " Damn him ! " said Stover. 
 
 " Why, Dink, how shocking ! " 
 
 " He s grown ! " 
 
 In the joy of his own increased stature he 
 had never dreamed that like processes of Nature 
 produce like results. 
 
 " Ten pounds heavier," said Dennis. " He 
 ought to make a peach of a tackle this year ! " 
 [157] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Bringing girls around!" said Stover scorn- 
 fully, to vent his rage. 
 
 " More to be pitied than blamed," sang Dennis 
 on a popular air. " It s his sister. Luscious 
 eyes quite the figure, too." 
 
 "Figure huh!" said Stover, who hadn t 
 seefl. 
 
 At the Jigger Shop the Gutter Pup, looking 
 up from a meringue entirely surrounded by 
 peach jiggers, hailed them: 
 
 " Hello, Kinky Dink ! Changed your mind, 
 eh? Thought you were homesick." 
 
 " Sure I was, but Dennis came in with a 
 bucket and caught the tears," said Stover 
 gravely. "I ll call you in next time. Al, how 
 be you? Here s what I owe you. Set em up." 
 
 " Tres ~bienl" said Dennis de Brian de BOTI< 
 Finnegan. 
 
 That night, as they started on the problem 
 of interior decorations, Stover threw himself on 
 the bed, rolling with laughter. 
 
 " Well, I m glad you ve decided to be cheerful ; 
 but what in blazes are you hee-hawing at?" 
 said the Tennessee Shad, mystified. 
 
 "I m laughing," said Stover, loud enough for 
 Dennis down the hall to hear, "at the Superi 
 ority of the Superlative over the Comparative." 
 
 [158] 
 
XII 
 
 "Why, look at the Dink!" said Lovely Mead 
 the next afternoon, as Stover emerged in foot 
 ball togs which he had industriously smeared 
 with mud to conceal their novelty. 
 
 " He must be going out for the Varsity ! " said 
 Fatty Harris sarcastically. 
 
 " By request," said the Gutter Pup. 
 
 "Why, who told you?" said Stover. 
 
 "You trying for the Varsity?" said Lovely 
 Mead incredulously. "Why, where did you 
 play football?" 
 
 " Dear me, Lovely," said Stover, lacing his 
 jacket, " thought you read the newspapers." 
 
 "Huh! What position are you trying for?" 
 
 " First substitute scorer," said Stover, accord 
 ing to Finnegan s theory. "Any more ques 
 tions? " 
 
 Lovely Mead, surprised, looked at Stover in 
 perplexity and remained silent. 
 
 Dink, laughing to himself at the ease of the 
 trick, started across the Circle for the Varsity 
 football field, whither already the candidates 
 were converging to the first call of the season. 
 
 He had started joyfully forth from the skep 
 tics on the steps, but once past the chapel and in 
 [159] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 sight of the field his gait abruptly changed. He 
 went quietly, thoughtfully, a little alarmed at 
 his own daring, glancing at the padded figures 
 that overtopped him. 
 
 The veterans with the red L on their black 
 sweaters were apart, tossing the ball back and 
 forth and taking playful tackles at one another 
 Stover, hiding himself modestly in the common 
 herd, watched with entranced eyes the lithe, 
 sinuous forms of Flash Condit and Charlie De- 
 Soto greater to him than the faint heroes of 
 mythology as they tumbled the Waladoo Bird 
 gleefully on the ground. There was Butcher 
 Stevens of the grim eye and the laconic word, 
 a man to follow and emulate; and the broad 
 span of Turkey Beiter s shoulders, a mark to 
 grow to. Meanwhile, Garry Cockrell, the cap 
 tain, and Mr. Ware, the new coach from the 
 Princeton championship eleven, were drawing 
 nearer on their tour of inspection and classifi 
 cation. Dink knew his captain only from re 
 spectful distances the sandy hair, the gaunt 
 cheek bones and the deliberate eye, whom gover 
 nors of states alone might approach with equal 
 ity, and no one else. Under the dual inspection 
 the squad was quickly sorted, some sent back 
 to their House teams till another year brought 
 more weight and experience, and others tenta 
 tively retained on the scrubs. 
 [160] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Better make the House team, Jenks," said 
 the low, even voice of the captain. " You want 
 to harden up a bit Glad you reported, 
 though." 
 
 Then Dink stood before Ms captain, dimly 
 aware of the quick little eyes of Mr. Ware 
 quietly scrutinizing him. 
 
 "What form?" 
 
 " Third." 
 
 The two were silent a moment studying not 
 the slender, wiry figure, but the look in the eyes 
 within. 
 
 " What are you out for? " 
 
 " End, sir." 
 
 "What do you weigh?" 
 
 "One hundred and fifty about," said Dink. 
 
 A grim little twinkle appeared in the cap 
 tain s eyes, 
 
 " About one hundred and thirty-five," he said, 
 with a measuring glance. 
 
 " But I m hard, hard as nails, sir," said Stover 
 desperately. 
 
 "What football have you played ?" 
 
 Stover remained silent. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I I haven t played," he said unwillingly. 
 
 "You seem unusually eager," said Cockrell ? 
 amused at this strange exhibition of willing 
 nesSo 
 
 [161] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 "Good spirit; keep it up. Get right out for 
 your House team ?> 
 
 " I won t ! " said Stover, blurting it out in his 
 anger and then flushing : " I mean, give me a 
 chance, won t you, sir? " 
 
 Cockrellj, who had turned, stopped and came 
 back. 
 
 "What makes you think you can play?" he 
 said not unkindly. 
 
 " I ve got to," said Stover desperately. 
 
 "But you don t know the game." 
 
 " Please, sir, I m not out for the Varsity," 
 said Stover confusedly. " I mean, I want to be 
 in it, to work for the school, sir." 
 
 "You re not a Freshman? " said the captain, 
 and the accents of his voice were friendly. ., 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 "What s your name?" said Cockrell, a little 
 thrilled to feel the genuine veneration that in 
 spired the " sir." 
 
 " Stover Dink Stover." 
 
 "You were down at the Green last year, 
 weren t you ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Stover, looking down with a 
 sinking feeling. 
 
 "You re the fellow who tried to fight the 
 whole House?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 [162] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Well, Dink, this is a little different you 
 can t play football on nothing but nerve." 
 
 "You can if you ve got enough of it," said Sto 
 ver, all in a breath. "Please, sir, give me a 
 chance. You can fire me if I m no good. I only 
 want to be useful. You ve got to have a lot of 
 fellows to stand the banging and you can bang 
 me around all dav. I do know something about 
 it, sir; I ve practiced tackling and falling on the 
 ball all summer, and I m hard as nails. Just 
 give me a chance, will you? Just one chance, 
 sir." 
 
 Cockrell looked at Mr. Ware, whose eye 
 showed the battling spark as he nodded. 
 
 "Here, Dink," he said gruffly, "I can t be 
 wasting any more time over you. I told you to 
 go back to the House team, didn t I?" 
 
 Stover, with a lump in his throat, nodded the 
 answer, he could not utter. 
 
 " Well, I ve changed my mind. Get over there 
 in the squad." 
 
 The revulsion of feeling was so sudden that 
 tears came into Stover s eyes. 
 
 "You re really going to let me stay?" 
 
 " Get over there, you little nuisance ! " 
 
 Dink went a few steps, and then stopped and 
 tightened his shoelaces a long minute. 
 
 "Too bad the little devil is so light," said 
 Cockrell to Mr. Ware. 
 
 [163] 
 
THE YARMINT 
 
 "Best player I ever played against bad no 
 righfe on a football field." 
 
 " But one hundred and thirty-five ! " 
 
 " Yes, that s pretty light." 
 
 "What the deuce were you chinning so long 
 about?" said Cheyenne Baxter to Dink, as he 
 came joyfully into the squad. 
 
 " Captain wanted just a bit of general expert 
 advice from me," said Dink defiantly. "I ve 
 promised to help out." 
 
 The squad, dividing, practiced starts. Stover 
 held his own, being naturally quick ; and though 
 Flash Condit and Charlie DeSoto distanced him, 
 still he earned a good word for his performances. 
 
 Presently Mr. Ware came up with a ball and, 
 with a few words of introduction, started them 
 to falling on it as it bounded grotesquely over 
 the ground, calling them from^the ranks by 
 name. 
 
 " Hard at it, Stevens." 
 
 "Dive at it." 
 
 " Don t stop till you get it." 
 
 " Oh, squeeze the ball ! " 
 
 Stover, moving up, caught the eye of Mr. 
 Ware intently on him, and rose on his toes with 
 the muscles in his arms strained and eager. 
 
 "Now, Stover, hard!" 
 
 The ball with just an extra impetus left the 
 hand of Mr. Ware. Stover went at it like a ter- 
 [164] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 rier, dove and came up glorious and muddy with 
 the pigskin hugged in his arms. It was the 
 extent of his football knowledge, but that 
 branch he had mastered on the soft summer 
 turf. 
 
 Mr. Ware gave a grunt of approval and sent 
 him plunging after another. This time as he 
 dove the ball took a tricky bounce and slipped 
 through his arms. Quick as a flash Dink, roll 
 ing over, recovered himself and flung himself 
 on it. 
 
 " That s the way ! " said Mr. Ware. " Follow 
 it up. Can t always get it the first time. Come 
 on, Baxter." 
 
 The real test came with the tackling. He 
 waited his turn, all eyes, trying to catch the 
 trick, as boy after boy in front of him went 
 cleanly or awkwardly out to down the man 
 who came plunging at him. Some tackled 
 sharply and artistically, their feet leaving the 
 ground and taking the runner off his legs as 
 though a scythe had passed under him; but most 
 of the tackling was crude, and often the runner 
 slipped through the arms and left the tackier 
 prone on the ground to rise amid the jeers of 
 his fellows. 
 
 " Your turn, Stover," said the voice of the cap 
 tain. "Wait a minute." He looked over the 
 squad and selected McCarty, saying: "Here, 
 [165] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Tough, come out here. Here s a fellow thinks 
 all you need in this game is nerve. Let s see 
 what he s got." 
 
 Dink stood out, neither hearing nor caring for 
 the laugh that went up. He glanced up fifteen 
 yards away where Tough McCarty stood wait 
 ing the starting signal. He was not afraid, he 
 was angry clean through, ready to tackle the 
 whole squad, one after another. 
 
 " Shall I take it sideways? " said Tough, ex 
 pecting to be tackled from the side as the others 
 had been. 
 
 " No, head on, Tough. Let s see if you can 
 get by him," said Cockrell. " Let her go ! " 
 
 McCarty, with the memory of past defiances, 
 went toward Stover head down, full tilt. Or 
 dinarily in practice the runner slackens just be 
 fore the tackle; but McCarty, expecting slight 
 resistance from a novice, arrived at top speed. 
 
 Stover, instead of hesitating or waiting the 
 coming, hurled himself recklessly forward. 
 Shoulder met knee with a crash that threw them 
 both. Stunned by the savage impact, Stover, 
 spilled head over heels, dizzy and furious, in 
 stinctively flung himself from his knees upon the 
 prostrate body of McCarty, as he had followed 
 the elusive ball a moment before. 
 
 "That s instinct, football instinct," said Mr. 
 Ware to Cockrell, as they approached the spot 
 [166] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 where Dink, still dazed, was clutching Tough 
 McCarty s knees in a convulsive hug. 
 
 " Let go! Let go there, you little varmint," 
 said Tough McCarty, considerably shaken. 
 " How long are you going to hold me here? " 
 
 Some one touched Dink on the shoulder; he 
 looked up through the blur to see the captain s 
 face. 
 
 "All right, Dink, get up." 
 
 But Stover released his grip not a whit. 
 
 " Here, you young bulldog," said Cockrell 
 with a laugh, "it s all over. Let go. Stand up. 
 Sort of groggy, eh ? " 
 
 Dink, pulled to his feet, felt the earth slip 
 under him in drunken reelings. 
 
 " I missed him," he said brokenly, leaning 
 against Mr. Ware. 
 
 "H m, not so bad," said the coach gruffly. 
 
 "How do you feel?" said Garry Cockrell, 
 looking at him with his quiet smile. 
 
 Dink saw the smile and misjudged it. 
 
 "Give me another chance," he cried furiously. 
 " I ll get him." 
 
 " What ! Ready for another tackle? " said the 
 captain, looking at him intently. 
 
 " Please, sir." 
 
 "Well, get your head clear first." 
 
 " Let me take it now, sir ! " 
 
 " All right." 
 
 [167] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 "Hit him harder than he hits you, and grip 
 with jour hands," said the voice of Mr. Ware in 
 his ear. 
 
 Dink stood out again. The earth was gradu 
 ally returning to a state of equilibrium, but his 
 head was buzzing and his legs were decidedly 
 rebels to his will. 
 
 The captain, seeing this, to give him time, 
 spoke to McCarty with just a shade of malice. 
 
 "Well, Tough, do you want to take it again?" 
 
 "Do I?" said McCarty sarcastically. "Oh, 
 yes, most enjoyable ! Don t let me interfere with 
 your pleasure. Why don t you try it yourself? " 
 
 "Would you rather watch?" 
 
 " Oh, no, of course not. This is a real pleas 
 ure, thank you. The little devil would dent a 
 freight train." 
 
 "All ready, Stover?" said Cockrell. 
 
 The players stood in two lines, four yards 
 apart. No one laughed. They looked at Stover, 
 thrilling a little with his communicated reck 
 lessness, grunting forth their approval. 
 
 "Good nerve." 
 
 "The real stuff." 
 
 " Pure grit." 
 
 "Little devil." 
 
 Stover s face had gone white, the eyes had 
 dwindled and set intensely, the line of the mouth 
 ~vas drawn taut, while on his forehead the wind 
 [168] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 lifted the matted hair like a banner. In the 
 middle of the lane, crowding forward, his arms 
 out, ready to spring, his glance fixed on Mc- 
 Carty, he waited like a champion guarding the 
 pass. 
 
 " All right, Stover? " 
 
 Some one near him repeated the question. 
 
 " Come on ! " he answered. 
 
 McCarty s one hundred and seventy pounds 
 came rushing down. But this time the instinct 
 was strong. He slacked a bit at the end as Sto 
 ver, not w r aiting his coming, plunged in to meet 
 him. Dow r n they went again, but this time it 
 was the force of Stover s impact that threw 
 them. 
 
 When Cockrell came up, Dink, altogether 
 groggy, was entwined around one leg of Me* 
 Carty with a gaunt grin of possession. 
 
 They hauled him up, patted him on the back 
 and walked him up and down in the cool breeze. 
 Suddenly, after several minutes, the mist rose. 
 He saw the fields and heard the sharp cries of 
 the coaches prodding on the players. Then he 
 looked up to find Garry CockrelPs arm about 
 him. 
 
 " All right now? " said the captain s voice. 
 
 Stover hastily put the arm away from him. 
 
 "I m all right." 
 
 " Did I give you a little too much, youngster? " 
 [169] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " I m ready again," said Stover instantly. 
 
 Cockrell laughed a short, contented laugh. 
 
 "You ve done enough for to-day." 
 
 " I ll learn how," said Dink doggedly. 
 
 "You know the real things in football now, 
 my boy," said the captain shortly. " We ll teach 
 you the rest." 
 
 Dink thought he meant it sarcastically. 
 
 "You will give me a chance, won t you?" he 
 said. 
 
 "Yes," said the captain, laying his hand on 
 his shoulder with a smile. " You ll get chance 
 enough, my boy. Fact is, I m going to start you 
 in at end on the scrub. You ll get all the hard 
 knocks you re looking for there. You won t get 
 any credit for what you do but you boys are 
 what s going to make the team." 
 
 "Oh, sir, do you mean it?" 
 
 " I m in the habit of meaning things." 
 
 "I ll I ll " began Stover, and then 
 
 stopped before the impossibility of expressing 
 how many times his life should be thrown to the 
 winds. 
 
 " I know you will," said the captain, amused. 
 "And now, you young bulldog, back to your 
 room and shake yourself together." 
 
 " But I want to go on ; I m feeling fine." 
 
 " Off the field," said the captain with terrific 
 sternness. 
 
 [170] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Dink went like a dog ordered home, slowly, 
 unwillingly, turning from time to time in hopes 
 that his captain would relent. 
 
 When he had passed the chapel and the strife 
 of the practice had dropped away he felt all at 
 once sharp, busy pains running up his back and 
 over his shoulders. But he minded them not. 
 At that moment with the words of the captain 
 his captain forever now ringing in his ears, 
 h e would have gone forth gratefully to tackle 
 the whole team, one after another, from wiry 
 little Charlie DeSoto to the elephantine P. 
 Lentz. 
 
 Suddenly a thought came to him. 
 
 "Gee, I bet I shook up Tough McCarty, any 
 how," he said grimly. And refreshed by this 
 delightful thought he went briskly across the 
 Circle. 
 
 At the steps Finnegan, coming out the door, 
 hailed him excitedly : 
 
 "Hi, Dink, we ve got a Freshman who s set 
 ting up to jiggers and Eclairs. Hurry up!" 
 
 " No," said Dink. 
 
 "What?" said Dennis faintly. 
 
 "I can t," said Dink, bristling; "I m in train* 
 
 [171] 
 
XIII 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, reclining in an armchair 
 softened by sofa cushions, gave critical direc 
 tions to Dink Stover and Dennis de Brian de 
 Boru Finnegan, to whom, with great unselfish 
 ness, he had surrendered all the privileges of 
 the hanging committee. 
 
 " Suppose you agitate yourself a little," said 
 Dink, descending from a rickety chair which, 
 placed on a table, had allowed him to suspend 
 a sporting print from the dusty moulding. 
 
 " The sight of you at hard labor," said Finne 
 gan, from a bureau on the other side of the room y 
 " would fill me with cheer, delectation and com 
 fort." 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, by four convulsive proc 
 esses, reached his feet 
 
 " Oh, very well," he said carelessly. " Thought 
 you preferred to run this show yourselves." 
 
 Picking up a poster, he selected with mali 
 cious intent the most unsuitable spot in the 
 room and started to climb the bureau, remark 
 ing: 
 
 " This is about it, I should say." 
 
 The artistic souls of Dink and Dennis pro 
 tested. 
 
 [173] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Murder, no ! " 
 
 " You chump ! " 
 
 "Too big for it." 
 
 "Well, if you know so much," said the Ten 
 nessee Shad, halting before the last upward 
 struggle and holding out the poster, "where 
 would you put it?" 
 
 Stover and Dennis indignantly bore the poster 
 away and with much effort andj straining 
 tacked it in an appropriate place. 
 
 "Why, that is better," said the Tennessee 
 Shad admiringly, regaining his chair, not too 
 openly. "Much better. Looks fine! Great! 
 Say, I ve got an idea. Stick the ballet girl 
 under it." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " You re crazy ! " 
 
 "Well, where would you put it?" 
 
 " Here, you chump. 
 
 "Why, that s not half bad, either," said the 
 Tennessee Shad, once more back among the 
 cushions. "A trifle more to the left, down 
 now up good make fast. First rate; guess 
 you have the best eye. Now where are you go 
 ing to put this? " 
 
 By this process of self -debasement and gen 
 erous exterior admiration the Tennessee Shad 
 successfully perceived the heavy hanging and ar 
 ranging brought to a satisfactory conclusion. 
 [173] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 The vital touches were given, the transom was 
 hung with heavy black canvas; a curtain of the 
 same was so arranged as to permit its being 
 drawn over the telltale cracks of the door. 
 Dennis and Stover, sent to reconnoiter from the 
 hall, waited while the Tennessee Shad passed a 
 lighted candle back and forth over the sealed 
 entrance. One traitor crack was discovered and 
 promptly obliterated. 
 
 " Now we re secure," said the Tennessee Shad. 
 "Cave of Silence and all that sort of thing. 
 The Old Roman would have to smell us to get 
 on." 
 
 " How about the windows? " said Dink. 
 
 "They re a cinch," said the Shad. "When 
 you get the shade down and the shutters closec? 
 a blanket will fix them snug as a bug in a rug. 
 Now, at nine o clock we can go to bed without 
 suffering from drafts. Ha, ha joke." 
 
 " Burn the midnight oil, etceteray etcetera." 
 
 " To-morrow," said the Tennessee Shad, 
 " Volts Mashon is going to install a safety light 
 for us." 
 
 "Elucidate," said Dink. 
 
 "A safety light is a light that has a connec 
 tion with the door. Shut door, light ; open door, 
 where is Moses? Midnight reading made a 
 pleasure." 
 
 " Marvelous ! " 
 
 [174] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Oh, I ve heard of that before," said Finne- 
 gan. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, meanwhile, had been 
 busy stretching a string from his bed to the 
 hot-air register and from a stick at the foot of 
 his bed to a pulley at the top. 
 
 Stover and Finnegan waited respectfully until 
 the Shad, having finished his operations, deigned 
 to give a practical exhibition. 
 
 " This thing is simple," said he, stretching out 
 on his bed and pulling a string at one side. 
 "Opens hot-air register. No applause neces 
 sary. But this is a little, comforting idea of 
 my own. Protection from sudden change of 
 temperature without bodily exposure." Extend 
 ing his hand he pulled the other rope, which, 
 running through the pulley over his head, 
 brought the counterpane quickly over him. 
 " How s that? No sitting up, reaching down, 
 fumbling about in zero weather." 
 
 " That s good as far as it goes," said Dennis, 
 whose natural state was not one of reverence; 
 "but how about the window? Some one has 
 to get up and shut the window." 
 
 " Simple as eggs," said the Shad, yawning 
 disdainfully. "A string and a pulley do the 
 trick, see? Down comes the window. All 
 worked at the same exchange. Well, Dink, you 
 may lead the cheer." 
 
 [175J 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Now, Stover suddenly remembered a device he 
 had been told of, and, remembering it, to give 
 it the appearance of improvisation he pretended 
 to deliberate. 
 
 "Well," said the Tennessee Shad, surprised, 
 " my humble little inventions don t seem to im 
 press you." 
 
 " Naw." 
 
 "They don t, eh! Why not?" 
 
 " Oh, it s the right principle," said Stover, as 
 suming a deliberate look ; " but crude, very 
 crude, backwoods, primitive, and all that sort 
 of thing." 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, amazed, looked at Finne- 
 gan, who spoke: 
 
 "Crude, Dink?" 
 
 " Why, yes. All depends on whether the Shad 
 wakes up or not. And then, why hand labor? " 
 
 " I suppose you have something more recher 
 che to offer," said the Tennessee Shad cuttingly, 
 having recovered. 
 
 " Why, yes, I might," said Stover coolly. " A 
 real inventor would run the whole thing by ma 
 chinery. Who s got an alarm clock?" 
 
 Dennis, mystified, returned running with his. 
 
 Stover, securing it with strings, fastened it 
 firmly on the table, which he moved near the 
 scene of operations. He then lowered the upper 
 half of the window, assuring himself that a 
 slight impetus would start it. To the sash he 
 [176] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 attached a stout string which he ran through a 
 pulley fixed to the top of the window frame; tc 
 the string he fastened a weight which he care 
 fully balanced on the edge of a chair; to the 
 weight, thus fastened, he attached another 
 string which he led to the clock and made fast 
 to the stem that wound the alarm. Then he 
 straightened up, cast a glance over the Shad s 
 handiwork and went to the register. 
 
 "When the window shuts it should open the 
 register, of course first principles/ he said 
 crushingly. He disconnected the string from the 
 bed and arranged it on the window. Having 
 wound the clock he addressed his audience: 
 
 "It s a simple little thing," he said with a 
 wave of his hand. "I happened to remember 
 that the key of an alarm clock turns as the alarm 
 works. That s all there is to it Set the alarm 
 when you want to wake up see like this, 
 Alarm goes off, winds up spring, throws weight 
 off balance, weight falls, shuts the window, 
 opens the register and you stay under the covers. 
 Practical demonstration now proceeding." 
 
 The mechanism worked exactly as he had pre 
 dicted. The Tennessee Shad and the Wild 
 Irishman, transfixed with awe, watched with 
 dropped mouths the operation. Finnegan, the 
 first to recover, salaamed in true Oriental 
 fashion. 
 
 "Mr. Edison," he said in a whisper^ "don t 
 [177] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 take advantage of two innocent babes in the 
 wood. Did you honestly just work this out?" 
 
 "Oh, no, of course not," said Dink loftily. 
 "My father told me, it cost him a fortune; he 
 gave years of his life to perfecting it ! " 
 
 " And this to me ! " said the exponent of the 
 superlative reproachfully. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad rose and offered his hand 
 with a gesture worthy of Washington. 
 
 " Sir to you. I am your humble servant. 
 Wonderful ! Marvelous ! Smashing ! Terrific ! 
 Sublime!" 
 
 " Do it again," said Dennis de Brian de Boru. 
 
 The alarm being wound and set, the operation 
 was repeated with the same success, while Den 
 nis danced about excitedly and the Tennessee 
 Shad contemplated it with dreamy absorption. 
 
 " Jemima ! " said Dennis. " And it works for 
 any time?" 
 
 "Any time," said Dink, with one hand grace 
 fully resting on his hip. 
 
 " Cracky ! " exclaimed Dennis, prancing ex 
 citedly toward the door. "I ll get the whole 
 House up." 
 
 " Dennis!" 
 
 Finnegan stopped, surprised at the note of 
 authority in the Tennessee Shad s voice. 
 
 " Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan ; back 
 and sit down." 
 
 [17,8] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "What s wrong?" 
 
 "You would call in the whole House, would 
 you?" 
 
 " Why not? " said Dink, thirsting for the ap 
 plause of the multitude. 
 
 " Dink, oh, Dink ! " said the Shad, in profound 
 sorrow. " You would throw away a secret 
 worth millions, would you?" 
 
 Dink looked at Dennis, who returned the look, 
 and then with a simultaneous motion they sat 
 down. 
 
 "This invention has millions in it, millions," 
 said the Tennessee Shad, promoter. " It is sim 
 ple, but revolutionary. Every room in the 
 school must be equipped with it." 
 
 " Then there s all the apartment houses," said 
 Dennis eagerly. 
 
 "That will come later," said the Tennessee 
 Shad. 
 
 " We ll patent it," said Stover, seeing clouds 
 of gold. 
 
 " Certainly," said the promoter. " We will 
 patent the principle." 
 
 " Let s form a company." 
 
 The three rose and solemnly joined hands. 
 
 " What shall we call it? " 
 
 "The Third Triumvirate?" said Dennis. 
 
 " Good ! " said the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 "What shall we charge? " said Dink. 
 [179] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " We must make a dollar profit on each," said 
 the Tennessee Shad. "That means four hun 
 dred fellows in the school allowing for room 
 mates; we should clear two hundred and ten 
 dollars at the lowest. That means seventy dol 
 lars apiece profit." 
 
 " Let s begin," said Dennis. 
 
 " I m unalterably opposed," said Dink, " to 
 allowing Doc Macnooder in the firm." 
 
 " Me, too," said Dennis. 
 
 " Doc is strong on detail," said the Tennessee 
 Shad doubtfully. 
 
 t " I m unalterably opposed," said Dink, " to 
 allowing Doc Macnooder to swallow this firm." 
 
 " Me, too," said Dennis. 
 
 " Doc has great business experience," said the 
 Tennessee Shad ; " wonderful, practical mind." 
 
 " I m unalterably " said Dink and stopped, 
 
 as the rest was superfluous. 
 
 "Me, too," said Dennis. 
 
 "Some one s got to work for us in the other 
 Houses." 
 
 " Make him our foreign representative," said 
 Stover. 
 
 " And give him a commission? " 
 
 " Sure ten per cent." 
 
 "No more," said Dennis. "Even that cuts 
 down our profits." 
 
 "All right," said the Tennessee Shad. "As 
 [180] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 you say, so be it. But still I think Doc Mac 
 nooder s business sagacity " 
 
 At this moment Doc Macnooder walked into 
 the room. The three future millionaires re 
 sponded to his greeting with dignity, keeping in 
 mind that distance which should separate a 
 board of directors from a mere traveling man. 
 
 " Hello," said Macnooder glibly. " All ship 
 shape and ready for action. Tea served here 
 and chafing-dish ready for the midnight rabbit. 
 Ha, ha, Dink, still got the souvenir toilet set, I 
 see." 
 
 " Still, but not long," said Dink. " But that 
 story comes later. Sit down, Doc, and pay at 
 tention." 
 
 " Why so much chestiness? " said Doc, puzzled. 
 " I haven t sold anything to any of you, have 
 I?" 
 
 "Doc," said Stover, "we have formed a com 
 pany and we want to talk business." 
 
 "What company?" 
 
 " The Third Triumvirate Manufacturing Com 
 pany," said Dennis. 
 
 "What does it manufacture?" 
 
 " This," said Stover, indicating the appliance. 
 " A combined window closer and alarm clock 
 that also opens the register." 
 
 " Let s see it," said Macnooder, all excitement. 
 
 The demonstration took place. Macnooder the 
 [181] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 enthusiast jyas conquered, but Macnooder the 
 financier remained cold and controlled. He sat 
 down, watched by three pairs of eyes, took from 
 his pocket a pair of spectacles, placed them OD 
 his nose and said indifferently: 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "What do you think of it?" 
 
 "It s a beaut!" 
 
 " I say, Doc," said Finnegan, " now, won t 
 every fellow in the school be crying for one, 
 won t be happy till he gets it, and all that sort 
 of thing? " 
 
 " Every fellow in the school will have one," 
 said Macnooder carefully, making a distinction 
 which was perceived only by the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 " Now, Doc," said Dink, still glowing with his 
 triumph over the Tennessee Shad, " let s talk 
 business." 
 
 Macnooder took off the glasses and minutely 
 polished them with his handkerchief. 
 
 "You ve formed a company, eh? " 
 
 " The Third Triumvirate the three of us." 
 
 "Well, where do I come in?" 
 
 " You re to be our foreign representative." 
 
 "Commission ten per cent," added Finnegan 
 carefully. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad said nothing, waiting ex 
 pectantly. Macnooder rose whistling through 
 his teeth and stood gazing down at the alarm 
 elook. 
 
 [182] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Foreign representative, commission ten per 
 cent," he said softly. 
 
 "We thought we d give you first whack at 
 it," said Stover in a careless, business-like way. 
 
 " So. What s your idea of developing it? " 
 
 "Why, we thought of installing it for a dol 
 lar." 
 
 "With the clock?" 
 
 "Oh, no! The clock extra." 
 
 "Charging a dollar for string and pulley?" 
 
 "And the invention." 
 
 " Humph ! " 
 
 "Well, Doc, is it a go?" said Dink, observ 
 ing him fall into a revery. 
 
 " No, I guess I m not much interested in this," 
 said Macnooder, taking up his hat. " There s 
 no money in it." 
 
 "Why, Doc," said Finnegan, aghast, "you 
 said yourself every fellow would have to have 
 it." 
 
 "Would have it," said Macnooder in correc 
 tion. " The invention s all right, but it s not 
 salable." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Nothing to sell. First fellow who sees it 
 can do it himself." 
 
 Finnegan looked at Stover, who suddenly felt 
 his pockets lighten. 
 
 " Doc is very strong on detail," said the Ten 
 nessee Shad softly, in a reminiscent way. 
 [183] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "You might sell it to one fellow," said Mac 
 nooder, " without telling him. But soon as you 
 set it up every one will copy it." 
 
 " Great business head," continued the Tennes 
 see Shad. 
 
 " It s a good idea," said Macnooder conde 
 scendingly. "You might get a vote of thanks, 
 but that s all you would get. Do you see the 
 rub?" 
 
 " I see," said Dink. 
 
 "Me, too," said Dennis. 
 
 " And a wonderful practical mind," concluded 
 the Tennessee Shad dreamily. 
 
 " Well, let s be public benefactors then," said 
 Dennis in a melancholy tone. 
 
 " And such a beautiful idea," said Dink mourn 
 fully. 
 
 " I move the Third Triumvirate disband," said 
 the Tennessee Shad; and there was no objec 
 tion. 
 
 "Now," said Doc Macnooder briskly, sitting 
 down, " I ll put my own proposition to you ama 
 teurs. There s only one way to make the thing 
 go, and I ve got the way. I take all responsi 
 bility and all risks. All I ask is control of the 
 stock fifty-one per cent." 
 
 Ten minutes later the Third Triumvirate Man 
 ufacturing Company was reformed on the fol 
 lowing basis: 
 
 [184] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 PRESIDENT .... Doc Macnooder, 51 shares. 
 ADVISORY BOARD . The Third Triumvirate. 
 TREASURER . . . Doc Macnooder. 
 
 PAID-UP CAPITAL 
 
 Macnooder . . * ,V .... $5.10 
 
 The Tennessee Shad . .. U; . . ... 1.70 
 
 Dink Stover . . . . ,,* . . . :*. 1.70 
 
 Dennis de B. de B. Finnegan . . . , 1.50 
 
 " Now," said Macnooder, when the articles 
 were safely signed and the capital paid -p, 
 " here s the way we work it. We ve got to de 
 two things : first, conceal the way it s done until 
 we sell it ; and second, keep those who buy from 
 letting on." 
 
 " That s hard," said the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 " But necessary. I m thinking out a plan." 
 
 " Of course the first part is a cinch," said 
 Dennis. "A few extras, etcetera, etceteray. 
 It s putting the ribbons in the lingerie, that s 
 all." 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 " You don t think it s selling goods under 
 false pretenses? " 
 
 " Naw," said Macnooder. " Same principle 
 
 as the patent medicine the only wheel that goes 
 
 round there is a nice, fat temperance measure 
 
 of alcohol, isn t it? We ll have the first public 
 
 U85] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 demonstration to-morrow afternoon. I ll dis 
 tribute a few more pearls to-night. Ta, ta." 
 
 The three sat quietly, listening to the fall of 
 his departing steps. 
 
 "If we d asked him in the first place," said 
 the Tennessee Shad, gazing out the window, 
 " we d only given up twenty-five per cent. great 
 business head, Doc; great mind for detail." 
 
 [186J 
 
XIV 
 
 Macnooder, that night, formed the Eureka 
 Purchasing Company, incorporated himself, and 
 secured, at jigger rates, every second-hand alarm 
 clock on which he could lay his hands but 
 more of that hereafter. 
 
 At five o clock the next afternoon the combined 
 Kennedy House packed itself into the Tennessee 
 Shad s room, where Doc Macnooder rose and 
 addressed them: 
 
 " Gentlemen of the Kennedy : I will only de 
 tain you an hour or so; I have only a few thou 
 sand words to offer. We are gathered here on an 
 auspicious occasion, a moment of history the 
 moment is historical. Your esteemed House 
 mate, Mr. Dink Stover, has completed, after 
 years of endeavor, an invention that is destined 
 to be a household word from the northernmost 
 wilds of the Davis House to the sun-kissed fra 
 grance of the Green, from the Ethiopian banks of 
 the fur-bearing canal to the Western Tins of 
 Hot-dog Land ! Gentlemen, I will be frank ~" 
 
 " Cheese it ! " said a voice. 
 
 " I will be frank," repeated Macnooder, turn 
 ing on them a countenance on which candor 
 [187] 
 
THE VAEMINT 
 
 struggled with innocence. " I did not wish or 
 encourage the present method of procedure. As 
 a member of the Dickinson House I combated 
 the proposition of Mr. Stover and his associates 
 to make this invention a Kennedy House sine 
 cure. I still combat it but I yield. If they 
 wish to give away their profits they can. Gen 
 tlemen, in a few moments I shall have the pleas 
 ure of placing before you an opportunity to be 
 come shareholders in one of the most epoch- 
 making inventions the world has ever known." 
 
 "What s it called?" said a voice. 
 
 "It s called," said Macnooder slowly, secure 
 now of the attention of his audience, "it s called 
 The Complete Sleep Prolonger. The title itself 
 is a promise and a hope. I will claim nothing 
 for this wonderful little invention. It not only 
 combats the cold, but it encourages the heat; it 
 prolongs not only the sleep, but the existence; 
 it will increase the stature, make fat men thin, 
 thin men impressive, clear the complexion, 
 lighten the eye and make the hair long and 
 curly." 
 
 " Let s have it," cried several voices. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Macnooder, seeing that no 
 further delay was possible, " our first demonstra 
 tion will be entitled The Old Way." 
 
 Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan, in pa- 
 jamas, appeared from a closet, went to the 
 [188] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 window, opened it, shut the register, yawned, 
 went to his bed and drew the covers over his 
 head. The faint sounds of a mandolin were 
 heard from the expert hands of the Tennessee 
 Shad. 
 
 " Scene," said Macnooder, fitting his accents 
 to low music as is the custom of vaudeville 
 "scene represents the young Lawrenceville boy, 
 exhausted by the preparation of the next day s 
 lessons, seeking to rest his too conscientious 
 brain. The night passes, the wind rises. It 
 grows cold. Hark the rising bell. He hears it 
 not. What now? He rises in his bed, the room 
 is bitter cold. He bounds to the window over 
 the frozen ground. He springs to the register 
 and back to his bed. He looks at his watch. 
 Heavens! Not a moment to lose. The room is 
 bitter cold, but he must up and dress ! " 
 
 Finnegan, completing the pantomime, returned 
 with thunders of applause. 
 
 "Gentlemen," cried Macnooder, "is this pic 
 ture a true one? " 
 
 And the roar came back: 
 
 "You bet!" 
 
 "Our next instructive little demonstration is 
 entitled The Scientific Way or The Sleep Pro- 
 longer Watches Over Him. Observe now the 
 modest movements of the Dink, the Kennedy 
 House Edison." 
 
 [189] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Dink, thus introduced, connected the hot-air 
 register to the window sash, the window sash 
 to the weight specially covered with tin foil 
 and brought forth the table on which was the 
 now completed Sleep Prolonger. Only the face 
 of the clock appeared, the rest was buried under 
 an arrangement of cardboard boxes and per 
 fectly useless spools, that turned with the rope 
 that took a thrice devious way to the alarm key. 
 In front, two Kennedy House flags were promi 
 nently displayed. 
 
 " Is everything ready, Mr. Stover? " said Mac- 
 nooder, while the crowd craned forth, amazed at 
 the intricacy of the machine. 
 
 "Ready, Mr. President," 
 
 "Second demonstration," said Macnooder. 
 
 Finnegan again entered, fixed the register, 
 lowered the window and, going to the clock, set 
 the alarm. 
 
 "He sets the alarm for half-past seven," said 
 Macnooder in cadence. "One half-hour gained. 
 The night passes. The wind rises. It grows 
 cold. Hark the rising bell. He hears it not; 
 he doesn t have to. The Sleep Prolonger is 
 there." 
 
 The alarm shot off with a suddenness that 
 brought responsive jumps from the audience, 
 the weight fell, and to the amazement of all, the 
 window closed and the register opened. 
 [190] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Watch him now, watch him," cried Mac- 
 nooder, hushing the tumult of applause. " Ob 
 serve the comfort and the satisfaction in his 
 look. He has not stirred, not a limb of his body 
 has been exposed, and yet the room grows warm. 
 His eye is on the clock ; he will rise in time, and 
 he will rise in comfort ! 
 
 " Gentlemen, this great opportunity is now be 
 fore you. This marvel of human ingenuity, this 
 baffling example of mechanical intricacy is now 
 within your reach. It can do anything. It is 
 yours. It is yours at prices that would make 
 a miner turn from picking up gold nuggets. It 
 is yours for one dollar and twenty-five cents 
 twenty-five cents is our profit, gentlemen, and 
 you get one profit-sharing bonus. And, further 
 more, each of the first fifteen purchasers who 
 will pay the sum of one-fifty will receive not one, 
 but three eight-per-cent., accumulative, preferred 
 bonuses." 
 
 "Bonus for what?" said an excited voice. 
 
 "Twenty-five per cent, of the net profits," 
 cried Macnooder, thumping the table, "will be 
 set aside for pro-rata distribution. The device 
 itself remains for three days a secret, until the 
 completion of the patents. Orders from the 
 model set up and installed in twenty-four hours 
 now acceptable, cash down. No crowding there, 
 first fifteen get three bonuses one at a time; 
 [191] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 keep back there no crowding, no pushing no 
 pushing, boys. Here, stop! Owing to the ex 
 traordinary demand, have I the advisory board s 
 consent to give every purchaser present who 
 pays one-fifty three bonuses? I have? Let her 
 go ! Mr. Finnegan, take down the names. Cash, 
 right over here ! " 
 
 " I don t like this idea of bonuses," said Fin 
 negan, when the rooms had returned to their 
 quiet again. 
 
 "Twenty-five per cent., Doc!" said the Ten 
 nessee Shad reproachfully. 
 
 " Why, you chump," said Macnooder proudly, 
 " that s what s called the profit-sharing system. 
 It keeps em quiet, and it also keeps em from 
 going out and giving the game away. Mark 
 my words." 
 
 "But twenty-five per cent., ?? said the Tennes 
 see Shad, shaking his head. 
 
 "Of the profits net profits, - said Macnooder. 
 " There s a way to get around that. I ll show 
 you later." 
 
 "We must get to work and round up some 
 alarm clocks," said Stover. 
 
 " I ve already thought of that," said Doc, as 
 he took his leave. " Don t worry about that. 
 Now I ll canvas the Dickinson." 
 
 " A slight feeling of uneasiness," said the 
 Tennessee Shad solemnly, when Macnooder had 
 [ 192 ] 
 
THE VARMIXT 
 
 departed " a slight feeling of uneasiness is 
 stealing over me, as the poet says." 
 
 "Let s have a look at the articles of incor 
 poration/" said Stover, who sat down with Den 
 nis to study them. 
 
 "We re the advisory board," said Dennis 
 stoutly. 
 
 " He s got fifty-one per cent, of the stock, 
 though," said Dink. 
 
 " But we ve got forty-nine ! " 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, who had not risen from 
 his chair as it involved extraordinary exertion, 
 was heard repeating in a lonely sort of way to 
 himself : 
 
 " A slight feeling of uneasiness." 
 
 By the next nightfall every room in the Ken 
 nedy was equipped with a Complete Sleep Pro- 
 longer. Their reception was exactly as Mac- 
 nooder had foreseen. At first a roar went up 
 as soon as the simplicity of the device was un 
 earthed, but the thought of the precious bonuses 
 soon quelled the revolt. 
 
 Besides, there was no doubt of the great 
 humanizing effects of the invention, and the de 
 mand that it would awaken throughout the 
 whole school. 
 
 But an obstacle arose to even the deep-laid 
 plans of Macnooder himself. As the Third Tri 
 umvirate Manufacturing Company had bought 
 [193] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 its stock from the Eureka Purchasing Com 
 pany which had cornered the alarm-clock mar 
 ket it followed that the alarm clocks were dis 
 tinctly second rate. 
 
 The consequence was that, though all were set 
 for half-past seven, the first gun went off at 
 about quarter-past two in the morning, bring 
 ing Mr. Bundy, the assistant house master, to 
 the middle of the floor in one terrified bound, 
 aoid starting a giggle that ran the darkened 
 house like an epidemic. 
 
 At half-past three another explosion took 
 place, aggravated this time by the fact that, the 
 window pulleys being worn, the sash flew up 
 with enough force to shatter most of the 
 glass. 
 
 At four o clock, when three more went off in 
 friendly conjunction, The Roman met Mr. Bundy 
 in the hall in light marching costume, and made 
 a few very forcible remarks on the duties of 
 subordinates the same being accentuated by 
 the wailing complaint of the youngest Roman 
 which resounded through the house. 
 
 From then on the musketry continued inter 
 mittently until half-past seven, when such a salvo 
 went off that the walls of the house seemed 
 jarred apart. 
 
 The Third Triumvirate went down to break 
 fast with small appetite. To add to their appre 
 hension, during the long wakeful reaches of the 
 [194] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 night there had been borne to their ears faint 
 but unmistakable sounds from the opposite Dick 
 inson and the Woodhull, which had convinced 
 them that there, too, the great invention of the 
 age had been betrayed by defective supplies. 
 
 The Roman looked haggard; Mr. Bundy hag 
 gard and aggressive. 
 
 "Northwester coming," said the Tennessee 
 Shad under his breath. " I know the signs." 
 
 " It s all Macnooder," said Stover bitterly. 
 
 At first recitation The Roman flunked Stover 
 on the review, on the gerund and gerundive, on 
 the use of hendiadys a most unfair exhibition 
 of persecution on several supines, and re 
 quested him to remain after class. 
 
 "Ahem, John," he said, bringing to bear the 
 batteries of his eyes on the embattled Dink, 
 " you were, I take it, at the bottom, so to speak, 
 of last night s outrage. Yes? Speak up." 
 
 " May I ask, sir," said Dink, very much ag 
 grieved for masters should confine themselves 
 to evidence and not draw deductions " I should 
 like to know by what right you pick on me? " 
 
 The Roman, knowing thoroughly the subject 
 under hand, did not condescend to argue, but 
 smiled a thin, wan smile. 
 
 "You were, John, weren t you?" 
 
 " I was that is, I invented it." 
 
 "Jivented it?" said The Roman, sending one 
 eyebrow toward the ceiling. "Invented what? " 
 [195] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "The Sleep Prolonger," said Dink very 
 proudly. 
 
 " Prolonger ! " said The Roman, with the jar 
 ring memories of the night upon him. " Ex 
 plain, sir!" 
 
 Dink went minutely over the detailed con 
 struction of the invention of the age. By re 
 quest, he repeated the same while The Roman 
 followed, tracing a plan upon his pad. At the 
 conclusion Dink waited aggressively, watching 
 The Roman, who continued to stare at his sketch. 
 
 " One question, John/ he said, without rais 
 ing his eyes. " Was the Kennedy the only house 
 thus favored? " 
 
 "No, sir. Macnooder installed them in the 
 Dickinson and the Woodhull." 
 
 "Ah!" As though finding comfort in this 
 last statement, The Roman raised his head an^ 
 said slowly: "Dear ma! I see, I see now. 
 Quite a relief. It is evident from your re 
 cital, John, that at least there was no concerted 
 effort to destroy the property of the school. I 
 withdraw the term outrage, in so far as it may 
 suggest outrages of pillage or anarchy. As to 
 the continued usefulness of what you so felici 
 tously term the Sleep Prolonger, that will have 
 to be a subject of consultation with the Doctor, 
 but but, as your friend, I should advise you, 
 for the present, not to risk any further capital 
 in the venture. Don t do it, John, don t do it." 
 [196] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Tyrant ! " said Stover to himself. Aloud he 
 asked: " Is that all, sir? " 
 
 "One moment one moment, John. Are you 
 contemplating any further inventions? " 
 
 " Why, no, sir." 
 
 "On your honor, John?" 
 
 "Why, yes, sir." 
 
 "Good very good. You may go now." 
 
 At noon, by virtue of an extraordinary order 
 from headquarters, all alarm clocks were confis 
 cated and ordered to be surrendered. 
 
 "It s all the Old Roman," said Stover dog 
 gedly. " He knew it was my invention. He s 
 got it in for me, I tell you." 
 
 "Anyhow," said Finnegan, "since Doc 
 planted a few Prolongers in the Dickinson and 
 the Woodhull we ought to be able to stack up a 
 few nice, round plunks." 
 
 The Tennessee Shad looked very thoughtful. 
 
 At this moment the Gutter Pup and P. Lentz, 
 representing the profit-sharing stockholders, 
 called to know when the surplus was to be di 
 vided. 
 
 "Macnooder is now at work on the books," 
 said Dink. " We expect him over at any time." 
 
 But when at eight o clock that evening no 
 word had been received from the president, the 
 Third Triumvirate held a meeting and sent the 
 Tennessee Shad over to the Dickinson, with or 
 ders to return only with the bullion, for which 
 [197] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 purpose lie was equipped with a small, black 
 satchel. 
 
 Just before lights the Tennesse Shad s drag 
 ging step was heard returning. 
 
 " I don t like the sound," said Dink, listening. 
 
 " He always shuffles his feet," said Dennis, 
 clinging to hope. 
 
 The door opened and the Tennessee Shad, car 
 rying the black satchel, solemnly entered. Dink 
 flung himself on the bag, wrenched it open and 
 let it drop, exclaiming: 
 
 "Nothing!" 
 
 "Nothing?" said Dennis, rising. 
 
 "Nothing," said the Tennessee Shad, sitting 
 down. 
 
 "But the profits?" 
 
 " The profits," said the Tennessee Shad, point 
 ing sarcastically to the bag, "are in there." 
 
 "Do you mean to say " began Dink and 
 
 stopped. 
 
 "I mean to say that the Third Triumvirate 
 Manufacturing Company is insolvent, bankrupt, 
 busted, up the spout." 
 
 "But then, who s got the coin?" 
 
 "Doc Macnooder," said the Tennessee Shad, 
 "and it s all legal." 
 
 "Legal?" 
 
 "All legal. It s this way. Our profits de 
 pended upon the price we paid for alarm clocks. 
 [ 198 ] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 See? Well, when Doc Macnooder, as president 
 of the Third Triumvirate Manufacturing Com 
 pany looked around for clocks, he found that 
 Doc Macnooder, as president of the Eureka Pur 
 chasing Company, had cornered the market and 
 could dictate the price." 
 
 " So that? " said Stover indignantly. 
 
 " So that each clock was charged up to us at 
 a rate ranging from one dollar and forty cents 
 to one dollar and fifty." 
 
 "By what right?" said Dennis. 
 
 "It s what is called a subsidiary company," 
 ^aid the Tennessee Shad. " It s quite popular 
 ^wadays." 
 
 "But where s the stock we subscribed?" said 
 Dennis, thinking of his one dollar and fifty 
 cents. "We get that back?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " What ! " said the two in unison. 
 
 "It s this way. Owing to executive interfer 
 ence, the Third Triumvirate Manufacturing 
 Company is liable to the Eureka Purchasing 
 Company for ten alarm clocks, which it has or 
 dered and can t use." 
 
 " But then, out of the whole, blooming mess," 
 said Dennis, quite overcome, "where do I 
 stand?" 
 
 The Tennessee Shad unfolded a paper and 
 read: 
 
 [199] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "You owe the Eureka, as your share of the 
 assessment, two dollars and forty cents." 
 
 " Owe ! " said Finnegan with a scream. 
 
 " Just let him come," said Dink, doubling up 
 his fists. " Let him come and assess us ! " 
 
 The three sat in long silence. Finally the 
 Tennessee Shad spoke : 
 
 " I am afraid Doc was sore because we tried 
 to freeze him out at first. It was a mistake." 
 
 No one noticed this. 
 
 " Great Willie Keeler ! " said Dennis suddenly. 
 " If this thing had been a success we d have been 
 ruined ! " 
 
 " But what right," said Dink, unwilling to 
 give up the fight, " had he to pay the Eureka 
 such prices. Who authorized him?" 
 
 "A vote of fifty-one per cent, of the stock," 
 said the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 " But he never said anything to us the forty- 
 nine per cent. Has the minority no rights? " 
 
 "The minority," said the Tennessee Shad, 
 speaking beyond his horizon, " the minority has 
 only one inalienable right, the right to indorse." 
 
 " I ll get even with him," said Dink, after a 
 Wank period. 
 
 "I suppose," said Dennis de Brian de Boru 
 Finnegan, " that s what s called Finance." 
 
 And the Tennessee Shad nodded assent : 
 
 "Higher Finance, Dennis." 
 [200] 
 
XV 
 
 During the busy October week Dink found lit 
 tle time to vent the brewing mischief within him. 
 The afternoons were given over to the dogged 
 pursuit of the elusive pigskin. In the evenings 
 he resolutely turned his back on all midnight 
 spreads or expeditions to the protecting shadows 
 of the woods to smoke the abhorrent cigarette, 
 for the joy of the risk run. At nine o clock 
 promptly each night he dove into bed, wrapped 
 the covers about his head and, leaving the Ten 
 nessee Shad deep in the pages of Dumas, went 
 soaring off into lands where goals are kicked 
 from the center of the field, winning touchdowns 
 scored in the last minute of play and bonfires 
 lighted for his special honor. He was only end 
 on the scrub, eagerly learning the game; but 
 with the intensity of his nature that territory, 
 which each afternoon he lined up to defend, was 
 his in sacred trust; and he resolved that the 
 trust of his captain should not be misplaced if 
 it lay in his power to prevent it. 
 
 However, the busy mind was not entirely in 
 active. With the memory of his financial dis 
 appointment came the resolve to square himself 
 [201] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 with The Roman and turn the tables on Doc 
 Macnooder. 
 
 The opportunity to do the first came in an un 
 expected way. 
 
 One evening P. Lentz came in upon them in 
 great agitation. 
 
 "Why, King," said Dennis, who was lolling 
 around, "you re excited, very, very much ex 
 cited!" 
 
 "Shut up!" said the King of the Kennedy, 
 who was in anything but a good humor. " It s 
 the deuce to pay. I ve had a first warning." 
 
 At this every one looked grave, and Dink, 
 the loyalist, said: 
 
 " Oh, King, how could you ! " 
 
 For another warning meant banishment from 
 the football team and all the devastation that 
 implied. 
 
 " That would just about end us," said Dennis. 
 "Might as well save Andover the traveling ex 
 penses." 
 
 " I know, I know ! " said P. Lentz furiously. 
 " I ve had it all said to me. Beautifully ex 
 pressed, too. Question is, what s to be done? 
 It s all the fault of old Baranson. He s been 
 down on me ever since we licked the Woodhull." 
 
 "We must think of something," said the Ten 
 nessee Shad. 
 
 " How about a doctor s certificate ? " 
 [202] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Eats!" 
 
 "We might get up a demonstration against 
 Baranson." 
 
 " Lot s of good that ll do me! " 
 
 Various suggestions were offered and rejected. 
 
 "Well, King," said the Tennessee Shad, at 
 last, " I don t see there s anything to it but 
 you ll have to buckle down and study." 
 
 "Study?" said P. Lentz. "Is that the best 
 you can produce?" 
 
 " It seems the simplest." 
 
 " I came here for consolation," said P. Lentz, 
 who thereupon departed angrily. 
 
 " Still, it ll come to that," said the Tennessee 
 Shad. 
 
 "P. Lentz study?" said Finnegan contemptu 
 ously. "Can a duck whistle?" 
 
 " Then we ll have to tutor him." 
 
 "What says Dink?" 
 
 " Don t bother me, I m thinking." 
 
 "Gracious, may I watch you?" 
 
 " Shad," said Stover, ignoring Dennis, " did 
 it ever occur to you how unscientific this whole 
 game is?" 
 
 "What game?" 
 
 " This chasing the Latin root, wrestling with 
 the unknown equation, and all that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 " Proceed." 
 
 [203] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Why are we smashed up ? Because we are 
 discouraged all fighting alone, unscientifically. 
 Does the light dawn?" 
 
 "Very slowly," said the Tennessee Shad. 
 " Keep dawning." 
 
 " I am thinking of organizing," said Stover 
 impressively, " The Kennedy Co-operative Edu 
 cational Institute." 
 
 " Aha ! " said the Tennessee Shad. " Video, 
 je vois, I see. All third-formers in the house 
 meet, divide up the lesson and then frater 
 nize." 
 
 "Where do I come in?" said Finnegan, who 
 was two forms below. 
 
 "A very excellent idea," said the Tennessee 
 Shad in final approval. 
 
 "I ve a better one now," said Stover. 
 
 "Why, Dink!" 
 
 " It begins by chucking the Co-operative idea. 5 * 7 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " There s no money in that," said Stover, 
 "We must give the courses ourselves, see?" 
 
 " Give? " said the Tennessee Shad. " We two 
 shining marks ! " 
 
 "No," said Stover contemptuously. "We 
 hire the lecturers and collect from the lectured." 
 
 "Why, Shad," said Finnegan, in wide-eyed 
 admiration, " our boy is growing up ! " 
 
 " He is, he certainly is. I love the idea ! " 
 [204] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Why, I think it s pretty good myself," said 
 Dink. 
 
 " It has only one error the lecturers." 
 
 "Why, that s the finest of the fine," said Dink 
 indignantly. " You see what I do. Here s 
 Beekstein and Gumbo Binks been laying around 
 as waste material and the whole house kicking 
 because we ve been stuck with two midnight- 
 oilers. Now what do I do? I utilize them. I 
 make them a credit to the house, useful citizens." 
 
 " True, most true," said the Tennessee Shad. 
 "But why pay? Never pay any one anything." 
 
 Stover acknowledged the superior financial 
 mind, while Finnegan remained silent, his great 
 est tribute. 
 
 " I suppose we might lasso them," said Stover, 
 " or bring them up in chains." 
 
 "That s only amateurish and besides repre 
 hensible," said the Tennessee Shad. "No, the 
 highest principle in finance, the real cream de 
 la creme, is to make others pay you for what 
 you want them to do." 
 
 Stover slowly assimilated this profound truth. 
 
 " We ll charge twenty-five cents a week to stu 
 dents and we ll make Beekstein and Gumbo dis 
 gorge half a plunk each for letting us listen to 
 them." 
 
 " I am ready to be convinced," said Dink, who 
 still doubted. 
 
 [205] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " I ll show you how it s done," said the Ten 
 nessee Shad, who, going to the door, called out : 
 " Oh, you Beekstein ! " 
 
 "Profound, profound mind," said Dennis de 
 Brian de Boru Finnegan. "Doc Macnooder is 
 better on detail, but when it comes to theory the 
 Tennessee Shad is the Willie Keeler boy every 
 time!" 
 
 "Fve another idea," said Stover, "a way to 
 get even with The Roman, too." 
 
 " What s that? " 
 
 " To signal the gerund and the gerundive." 
 
 "Magnificent and most popular!" said the 
 Tennessee Shad. " We ll put that in as a guar 
 anty. Who ll signal?" 
 
 " I ll signal," said Stover, claiming the privi 
 lege. " It s my right ! " 
 
 Beekstein, who might be completely described 
 as a pair of black-rimmed spectacles riding an 
 aquiline nose, now shuffled in with his dictionary 
 under his arm, his fingers between the leaves of 
 a Cicero to which he still clung. 
 
 "Mr. Hall," said the Tennessee Shad with a 
 flourish, "take any chair in the room." 
 
 Beekstein, alarmed by such generosity, sat 
 down like a ramrod and cast a roving, anxious 
 glance under the beds and behind the screen. 
 
 " Beekstein," said the Tennessee Shad, to re* 
 assure him, "we have just organized the Ken- 
 [206] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 nedy Educational Quick Lunch Institute. The 
 purpose is fraternal, patriotic and convivial. 
 It will be most exclusive and very secret." He 
 explained the working scheme and then added 
 anxiously: "Now, Beekstein, you see the posi 
 tion of First Grand Hot Tamale will be the real 
 thing. He will be, so to speak, Valedictorian of 
 the Kennedy and certainly ought to be elected 
 secretary of the house next year. Now, Beek 
 stein, what we got you here for is this. What 
 do you think of Gumbo for the position? Well, 
 what?" 
 
 Beekstein, in his agitation, withdrew his fin 
 ger from the Orations of Cicero. 
 
 "What s the matter with me?" he said di 
 rectly. " Gumbo is only a second-rater." 
 " He s very strong in mathematics." 
 " That s the only thing he beats me on ! " 
 " Yes, but, Beekstein, there is another thing 
 a delicate subject. I don t know how to ap 
 proach it. You see, we don t know how you re 
 fixed for the spondulix," said the Tennessee 
 Shad, who knew perfectly well the other s flour 
 ishing condition. "You see, this is not only ed 
 ucational, but a very select body, quite a secret 
 society, with a midnight spread now and then. 
 Of course there are dues, you see. It would cost 
 you a half a week." 
 
 "Is that all?" said Beekstein, who had never 
 [207] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 belonged to a secret society in his life. " Here s 
 the first month down. Right here." 
 
 "I don t know how far we are committed to 
 Gumbo," said the Tennessee Shad, not disdain 
 ing to finger the two-dollar bill. "But I ll do 
 everything I can for you." 
 
 Gumbo Binks, being consulted as to the quali 
 fications of Beekstein, fell into the same trap 
 He was a monosyllabic, oldish little fellow, 
 whose cheeks had fallen down and disturbed the 
 balance of his already bald head. He had but 
 one emotion and one enthusiasm, a professional 
 jealousy of Beekstein, who was several points 
 ahead of him in the race for first honors. Un 
 der these conditions the Tennessee Shad pro 
 ceeded victoriously. Having made sure of each, 
 he next informed them that, owing to a wide 
 divergence of opinion, a choice seemed impos 
 sible. Each should have two months opportu 
 nity to lecture before the Quick Lunchers before 
 a vote would be taken. 
 
 Under these successful auspices the Institute 
 met enthusiastically the following day, both the 
 lecturers and the lectured ignoring the financial 
 status of the others. It was found on careful 
 compilation that, by close and respectful atten 
 tion to Professors Beekstein and Gumbo, twenty 
 minutes would suffice for the rendering of the 
 Greek and Latin test; while only ten minutes 
 [208] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 extra were needed to follow the requirements of 
 mathematics. 
 
 The clause in the constitution which pledged 
 defiance to The Eoman and guaranteed protec 
 tion on the gerund and gerundive was exceed 
 ingly popular. The signals were agreed upon. 
 Absolute rigidity on Stover s part denounced 
 the gerund, while a slight wriggling of his sensi 
 tive ears betrayed the approach of the abhorrent 
 gerundive. 
 
 In his resojve to destroy forever the peace of 
 mind of The Eoman, Dink sat an extra period 
 under Beekstein, stalking and marking down 
 the lair of these enemies of boykind. 
 
 On the following morning The Roman lost no 
 time in calling up P. Lentz, who, to his amaze 
 ment, recited creditably. 
 
 " Dear me," said The Roman, quite astonished, 
 " the day of miracles is not over most astound 
 ing! Bring your book to the desk, Lentz hem! 
 Everything proper! Profuse apologies, Lentz, 
 profuse ones ! The suspicion is the compliment. 
 I m quite upset, quite so. First time such a 
 thing has happened." He hesitated for a mo 
 ment, debating whether to allow him to retire 
 with the honors, but his curiosity proving strong 
 he said: "And now, Lentz, third line, second 
 word gerund or gerundive? " 
 
 "Gerundive, sir," said P. Lentz promptly, ob- 
 [209] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 serving Stover s ears in a state of revolu 
 tion. 
 
 "Fortunate youth! Next line, third word, 
 gerund or gerundive?" 
 
 "Gerund, sir." 
 
 " Still fortunate ! Once more, mlake your bet, 
 Lentz, red or black?" said The Roman, smiling, 
 believing Lentz was risking his fortunes on the 
 alternating system. "Once more. Sixth line, 
 first word, gerund or gerundive?" 
 
 "Gerund, sir." 
 
 "Is it possible is it possible?" said The 
 Roman. " Have I lived to see it ! Sit down, 
 Mr. Lentz, sit down." 
 
 He sat silent a moment, his lips twitching, 
 his eyebrows alternately jumping, gazing from 
 the text to P. Lentz and back. 
 
 Stover, in the front row, was radiant. 
 
 " Gee, that s a stiff one for him to swallow ! " 
 he said, chuckling inwardly. "P. Lentz, of all 
 muts!" 
 
 As luck would have it the next boy called up, 
 not being from the Kennedy, flunked and 
 somewhat restored The Roman s equanim 
 ity. 
 
 " Now he feels better," thought Dink. " Wait 
 till the next jolt comes, though ! " 
 
 "Lazelle," said The Roman. 
 
 The Gutter Pup rose, translated fluently and, 
 with his eyes on Dink s admonitory ears, grap- 
 [210] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 pled with the gerund and threw the gerun 
 dive. 
 
 "Mead," said The Roman, now thoroughly 
 alert. 
 
 Lovely, with a show of insouciance, bagged 
 three gerunds and one gerundive. 
 
 The Roman thought a moment and, carefully 
 selecting the experts, sent Beekstein, Gumbo 
 Binks, the Red Dog and Poler Fox to the black 
 boards. Having thus removed the bird dogs, 
 The Roman called up Fatty Harris. 
 
 Stover, struggling to maintain his seriousness, 
 grudgingly admired the professional manner 
 with which The Roman attacked the mystery, the 
 more so as it showed the wisdom of his own 
 planning; for, had the signals been left with 
 either Beekstein or Gumbo, the plot would have 
 been instantly exposed. 
 
 As it was, The Roman, to his delighted imag 
 ination, at each successful answer seemed to rise 
 under an electric application. 
 
 Stover went out radiant, to receive the de 
 lighted congratulations of the Institute and the 
 recognition of those who were not in the secret. 
 
 " We ve got him going," he said, skipping over 
 the campusi arm in arm with the Tennessee 
 Shad. " He s nervous as a witch ! It s broken 
 him all up. He won t sleep for a week." 
 
 " He ll spot it to-morrow," said the Tennessee 
 Shad. 
 
 [211] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 I ll lay a bet on it." 
 
 The next day The Roman, at the beginning of 
 the lesson, ordered all the books to the desk and 
 fruitlessly examined them. Macnooder, as 
 spokesman for the justly indignant class, at 
 once expressed the pain felt at this evidence of 
 suspicion and demanded an explanation. This 
 highly strategic manceuver, which would have 
 tripped up a younger master, received nothing 
 but a grim smile from The Roman who waved 
 them to their seats and called up P. Lentz. 
 
 " Gerund or gerundive? " he began directly, 
 at the same time rising and scanning the front 
 ranks. 
 
 "Why, gerund, sir," said P. Lentz instantly. 
 
 "What, again?" said The Roman, who then 
 called upon Stover. 
 
 Dink arose, watched with some trepidation by 
 the rest ; for being in the front row he could re 
 ceive no signal. 
 
 "First paragraph, third word, gerund or 
 gerundive, Stover? " 
 
 Dink took a long time, shifting a little as 
 though trying to glance from side to side, and 
 finally named haltingly : 
 
 " Gerund, sir." 
 
 "Next line, first word, gerund or gerundive? 
 Look in front of you, Stoves Look at me." 
 
 Dink purposely called it wrong, likewise tHe 
 next; thereby completing the mystification of 
 [212] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 The Roman, who now concentrated his attention 
 on Macnooder and the Tennessee Shad, as being 
 next in order of suspicion. The day ended vic 
 toriously. 
 
 "He won t live out the week," announced 
 Dink. "There are circles under his eyes al 
 ready." 
 
 " Better quit for a day or two," said the Ten 
 nessee Shad. 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 Now the advantage of Dink s method of sig 
 naling was in its absolute naturalness. For 
 the growing boy wiggles his ears as a pup tries 
 his teeth or a young goat hardens his horns. 
 Moreover, as Dink held to his plan of judicious 
 flunking, The Roman s suspicions were com 
 pletely diverted. For three days more the lover 
 of the gerund and the gerundive sought to local 
 ize and detect the sources of information with 
 out avail. 
 
 Finally on the sixth day The Roman arrived 
 with a briskness that was at once noted and 
 analyzed. P. Lentz was called and trans 
 lated. 
 
 "We will now take up our daily recreation," 
 said The Roman, in a gentle voice. " It has been 
 a matter of pleasure to me not unmixed with a 
 little surprise, incredulous surprise to note the 
 sudden affection of certain members of this class 
 for those elusive forms of Latin grammar known 
 [213] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 as the gerund and the gerundive. I had de 
 spaired, in my unbelief I had despaired, of ever 
 satisfactorily impressing their subtle distinctions 
 on certain, shall we say athletic, imaginations. 
 It seems I was wrong. I had not enough faith. 
 I am sorry. It is evident that these Scylla and 
 Charybdis of prosody have no longer any ter 
 rors for you, Lentz. Am I right?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," said P. Lentz hesitatingly. 
 
 "So so no terrors? And now, Lentz, take 
 up your book, take it up. Direct your unfail 
 ing glance at the first paragraph, page sixty- 
 two. Is it there?" 
 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 " Pick out the first gerund you see." 
 
 P. Lentz, beyond the aid of human help, gazed 
 into the jungle and brought forth a supine. 
 
 "Is it possible, Lentz?" said The Eoman. 
 " Is it possible? Try once more, but don t guess. 
 Don t guess, Lentz ; don t do it." 
 
 P. Lentz closed the book and sat down. 
 
 "What! A sudden indisposition? Too bad, 
 Lentz, too bad. Now we ll try Lazelle. Lazelle 
 won t fail. Lazelle has not failed for a week." 
 
 The Gutter Pup rose in a panic, guessed and 
 fell horribly over an ordinary participle. 
 
 "Quite mysterious!" said The Roman, him 
 self once more. " Sudden change of weather. 
 Mead, lend us the assistance of your splendid 
 [214] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 faculties. What? Unable to rise? Too bad. 
 Dear me dear me quite the feeling of home 
 again quite homelike." 
 
 The carnage was terrific, the scythe passed 
 over them with the old-time sweep, laying them 
 low. Once maliciously, when Fatty Harris was 
 on his feet, The Roman asked: 
 
 "Top of page, fifth word, gerund or gerun 
 dive?" 
 
 " Gerund," said Harris instantly. 
 
 "Ah, pardon " said The Roman, bringing 
 
 into play both eyebrows. "My mistake, Har 
 ris, entirely my mistake. Go down to the next 
 paragraph and recognize a gerundive. No? 
 Sit down gently. Too bad old methods must 
 make way for new ideas. Too bad. then you did 
 have one chance in two and now, where in the 
 whole wide world will you find a friend to help 
 you? Class is dismissed." 
 
 "I told you you couldn t beat The Roman," 
 said the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 "I made him change his system, though," 
 said Dink gloriously, " and he never caught me." 
 
 "Well, if you have, how are you going to 
 spot the gerund and the gerundive?" 
 
 " I don t neef 1 to; I ve learned em," said Dink, 
 laughing. 
 
 [215] 
 
XVI 
 
 The Kennedy House Educational Quick Lunch 
 Institute broke up in wrath a week later when 
 an innocent inquiry of Beekstein s for the pass 
 words revealed the direction of the club s fi 
 nances. 
 
 Meanwhile, true to his resolve, Dink, with the 
 assistance of Finnegan and the Tennessee Shad, 
 had started the fad of souvenir toilet sets; 
 which, like all fads, ran its course the faster 
 because of its high qualities of absurdity and 
 uselessness. Dink s intention of recouping him 
 self by selling his own set of seven colors at 
 a big advance was cut short by a spontaneous 
 protest to the Doctor from the house masters, 
 whose artistic souls were stirred to wrath at 
 the hideous invasion. The subject was then so 
 successfully treated from the pulpit, with all the 
 power of sarcasm that it afforded, that the only 
 distinct artistic movement of New Jersey ex 
 pired in ridicule. 
 
 Dink took this check severely to heart and, 
 of course, beheld in this thwarting of his scheme 
 to dispose of the abhorrent set with honor a 
 [216] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 fresli demonstration of the implacability of The 
 Eoman. 
 
 He wandered gloomily from Laloo s and Ap- 
 pleby s to the Jigger Shop; where, after pulling 
 his hat over his eyes, folding his arms incon- 
 solably, he confided his desires of revenge on 
 Doc Macnooder to the sympathetic ears of the 
 guardian of the Jigger. 
 
 "Why not get up a contest and offer it as a 
 prize? " said Al. 
 
 " Have you seen it ? " said Dink, who then 
 did the subject full justice. 
 
 Al remained very thoughtful for a long while, 
 running back dreamily through the avenues of 
 the past for some stratagem. 
 
 "I remember way back in the winter of 88," 
 he said at last, " there was a slick coot by the 
 name of Chops Van Dyne, who got strapped and 
 hit upon a scheme for decoying the shekels." 
 
 "What was that?" said Dink hopefully. 
 
 " He got up a guessing contest with a blind 
 prize." 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 " A blind prize all done up in tissue paper and 
 ribbons, and no one was to know what was in it 
 until it was won. It certainly was amazing the 
 number of suckers that paid a quarter to satisfy 
 their curiosity." 
 
 "Well, what was inside?" said Dink at once. 
 [217] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 "There you are!" said Al. "Why, nothing, 
 of course a lemon, perhaps but the point is, 
 every one just had to know." 
 
 " Not a word ! " said Dink, springing up tri 
 umphantly. 
 
 "Mum as the grave," said Al, accepting his 
 handshake. 
 
 Dink went romping back like a young spring 
 goat, his busy mind seizing all the ramifications 
 possible from the central theory. He found the 
 Tennessee Shad and communicated the great 
 idea. 
 
 " I don t like the guessing part," said the Ten 
 nessee Shad. 
 
 " Nor I. We must get up a contest." 
 
 "A championship." 
 
 " Something devilishly original." 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 " We must think." 
 
 The day was passed in fruitless searching but 
 the next morning brought the answer in the fol 
 lowing manner : Dink and the Tennessee Shad 
 as the majority of trained Laurentians were 
 accustomed to wtallow gloriously in bed until 
 the breakfast gong itself. At the first crash 
 they would spring simultaneously forth and race 
 through their dressing for the winning of the 
 stairs. Now this was an art in itself and many 
 [218] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 records were claimed and disputed. The Ten 
 nessee Shad, like most lazy natures, when 
 aroused wus capable of extraordinary bursts of 
 speed and was one of the claimants for the 
 authorized record of twenty-six and a fifth sec 
 onds from the bed to the door, established by the 
 famous Hickey Hicks who as has been re 
 lated had departed to organize the industries 
 of his country. Of a consequence Stover was 
 invariably still at his collar button when the 
 thin shadow of the Shad glided out of the door. 
 But on the present morning, the shoe laces of 
 the Tennessee Shad snapping in his hand, Dink 
 reached the exit a bare yard in advance. Sud 
 denly he stopped, clasped the Tennessee Shad 
 by the middle and flung him toward the ceiling. 
 
 " I have it," he cried. " We ll organize the 
 dressing championship of the school ! " 
 
 That very evening a poster was distributed 
 among the houses, thus conceived: 
 
 FIRST AMATEUR DRESSING CHAMPION 
 SHIP OF THE SCHOOL 
 
 under the management of that well-known 
 
 Sporting Promoter 
 
 MR. DINK STOVER 
 
 FOB THE BELT OF THE SCHOOL 
 
 and 
 [219] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 A SEALED MYSTERIOUS PRIZE 
 
 Guaranteed to be Worth Over $3.50 
 
 Entrance Fee 25c Books Close at 6 P. M. 
 
 To-morrow 
 
 For Conditions and Details Consult 
 ME. DENNIS DE B. DE B. FINNEGAN, Secretary. 
 
 While the announcement was running like 
 quicksilver through the school the souvenir 
 toilet set was encased in cotton, packed in the 
 smallest compass, stowed in a wooden box, 
 which was then sewed up in a gunny sacking. 
 This in turn was wrapped in colored paper, tied 
 with bows of pink ribbon and sealed with blue 
 sealing wax stamped with the crest of the school 
 VIRTUS SEMPER VIRIDIS. The whole was 
 placed on a table at the legs of which were 
 grouped stands of flags. 
 
 By noon the next day one-half of the school 
 had passed around the table, measuring the mys 
 terious package, touching the seals with itch 
 ing fingers and wanting to know the reason for 
 such secrecy. 
 
 "There are reasons," said Stover, in response 
 to all inquiries. "Unusual, mysterious, excel 
 lent reasons. We ask no one to enter. We only 
 guarantee that the prize is worth over three dol 
 lars and fifty cents. No one is coaxing you, 
 [220] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 No one will miss you. The entrance list is al 
 ready crowded. We are quite willing it should 
 be closed. We urge nobody ! " 
 
 Macnooder came among the first, scratching 
 his head and walking around the prize as a fox 
 about a tainted trap. Stover, watching from 
 the corner of his eye, studiously appeared to dis 
 courage him. Macnooder sniffed the air once 
 or twice in an alarmed sort of way, grunted to 
 himself and went off to try to pump Finnegan. 
 
 Finally, just before the closing of the entries, 
 he shambled up with evident dissatisfaction and 
 said: 
 
 " Here s my quarter. It s for the champion 
 ship, though, and not on account of any hocus 
 pocus in the box." 
 
 "Do I understand?" said Dink instantly, 
 " that if you win you are willing to let the prize 
 go to the second man?" 
 
 "What are you making out of this?" said 
 Doc hungrily, disdaining an answer. 
 
 The contest, which began the next afternoon 
 with thirty-one entries, owing to certain features 
 unusual to athletic contests, produced such a 
 furor of interest that the limited admissions to 
 the struggle brought soaring prices. 
 
 Everything was conducted on lines of exact 
 formality. 
 
 Each contestant was required to don upper 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 and lower unmentionables, two socks, two shoes, 
 which were to be completely laced and tied, a 
 dickey formed by a junction of two cuffs, a 
 collar and one button one necktie, one pair of 
 trousers and one coat. Each contestant was 
 required satisfactorily to wash and dry both 
 hands and put into his hair a recognizable 
 part. 
 
 The contestants were allowed to arrange on 
 the chair their wearing apparel according to 
 their own theories, were permitted to fill the 
 wash basin with water, leaving the comb and 
 towel on either side. In order to prevent the 
 formation of two classes, pajamas were sup 
 pressed and each contestant, clothed in a night 
 shirt, was inducted under the covers and his 
 hair carefully disarranged. 
 
 Time was taken from the starting gun to the 
 moment of the arrival of the fully clothed, rea 
 sonably washed and apparently brushed candi 
 date at the door. Each time was to be noted 
 and the two lowtest scores were to compete in 
 the finals. A time limit of forty-five seconds 
 was imposed, after which the contestant was 
 to be ruled out. 
 
 The first heat began with the Triumphant 
 Egghead in the bed for the Dickinson, Mr. Den 
 nis de Brian de Born Finnegan on the stop 
 watch, Mr. Dink Stover as master of ceremonies 
 y [ 222 ] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 and Mr. Turkey Reiter, Mr. Cheyenne Baxter 
 and Mr. Charlie DeSoto as jurors. 
 
 The entries were admitted by all to be the pick 
 of the school ; while the champions most favored, 
 were the Tennessee Shad for the Kennedy, Doc 
 Macnooder for the Dickinson and the White 
 Mountain Canary for the Woodhull. 
 
 A certain delay took place on the third heat 
 owing to Susie Satterly, of the Davis House, 
 refusing to compete unless there was less pub 
 licity, and being peremptorily ruled out on a de 
 mand for a screen. 
 
 " The next on the program," said Stover, as 
 master of ceremonies, " is the champion of the 
 Dickinson, the celebrated old-clothes man, Doc 
 tor Macnooder." 
 
 Macnooder gracefully acknowledged the ap 
 plause which invariably attended his public per 
 formances and asked leave to make a speech, 
 which was unanimously rejected. 
 
 "Very well, gentlemen," said Macnooder, 
 taking off his coat and standing forth in a sud 
 den blaze of rainbow underwear. "I will 
 simply draw attention to this neat little bit of 
 color that I have the honor to present to your 
 inspection. It is the latest thing out in dainty 
 fancies and I stand ready to fill all orders. It 
 is rather springy, but why fall when you can 
 spring? Don t applaud you ll wake the baby. 
 I 223 ] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 It is light, it is warm, it gives a sense of ex 
 hilaration to the skin. It endears you to your 
 friends, and not even a Lawrenceville suds-lady 
 would bite a hole in it " 
 
 " If you don t get into bed," said Dink, " I ll 
 rule you out," 
 
 Macnooder, thus admonished, hastened to his 
 post, merely remarking on the distinction of his 
 garters and impressionistic socks and the fact 
 that he had incurred great expense to afford his 
 schoolmates an equal opportunity. 
 
 "Are you ready?" said Turkey Eeiter, for 
 the indignant jury. 
 
 "One moment." 
 
 Macnooder, in bed, glanced carefully at the 
 preparations without, turned on his side and 
 brought his knees up under his chin. 
 
 "All ready?" 
 
 "Go!" 
 
 With a circular kick, something like the flop 
 of a whale s tail, Macnooder drove the coveis 
 from him and sprang into the doubled trousers 
 
 A cheer w ent up from the spectators. 
 
 " Gee, what a dive ! " 
 
 "Faster, Doc!" 
 
 "Wash carefully!" 
 
 "Behind the ears!" 
 
 "Don t forget the buttons ! 
 
 "That s the boy!" 
 
 [224] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Come on, Doc, come on ! " 
 
 "Oh, you Dickinson!" 
 
 "Hurray!" 
 
 " Time twenty-seven seconds flat," said Den 
 nis de Brian de Boru Finnegan. "Best yet 
 Twenty-seven and four-fifths seconds, next on 
 the list, made by the White Mountain Canary 
 and the Gutter Pup." 
 
 "Next contestant," said Dink, in sing-song, 
 "is the champion of the Rouse, Mr. Peanuts 
 Biddle." 
 
 But here a difficulty arose. 
 
 "Please, sir," said the candidate, who as a 
 freshman was visibly embarrassed at the ordeal 
 before him " Please, sir, I don t part my hair." 
 
 Every eye went to the pompadour, cropped 
 like a scrubbing brush, and recognized the truth 
 of this assertion. 
 
 "Please, sir, I don t see why I should have 
 to touch a comb." 
 
 A protest broke forth from the other candi 
 dates. 
 
 "Rats!" 
 
 "Penalize him!" 
 
 "Why part my hair?" 
 
 "I always do that with my fingers when I m 
 skating down the stairs." 
 
 "Why wash till afterward?" 
 
 " No favoritism ! " 
 
 [225] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 The jury retired to deliberate and announced 
 amid cheers that to equalize matters Mr. Pea 
 nuts Biddle would be handicapped two-fifths of 
 a second. The candidate took this ruling very 
 much to heart and withdrew. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, closing the list of entries, 
 slouched up to the starting-line amid great ex- 
 citement to better the record of Doc Mac- 
 nooder. 
 
 He first inspected the washstand, filling the 
 basin higher than customary and exchanging the 
 stiff face towel for a soft bath towel, which 
 would more quickly absorb the moisture. 
 
 Doc Macnooder, who followed these prepara 
 tions with a hostile eye, protested against this 
 last suostitution, but was overruled. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad then divested himself of 
 his coat and undergarments amid cries of; 
 
 "Oh, you ribs!" 
 
 "What do they feed you?" 
 
 " Oh, you wish-bones ! " 
 
 " Oh, you shad-bones ! " 
 
 Macnooder then claimed that the undershirt 
 was manifestly sewed to the coat. The allega 
 tion was investigated and disproved, without in 
 the slightest ruffling the composure of the Ten 
 nessee Shad, who continued his calculations 
 while making a toothpick dance through his lips. 
 By means of safety pins, he next fastened the 
 [226] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 back and one wing of his collar to his coat, so 
 that one motion would clothe his upper half. 
 
 " I protest," said Doc Macnooder. 
 
 "Denied," said Turkey Reiter, as foreman of 
 the jury. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, donning the nightshirt, 
 carefully unloosened the laces of his low shoes, 
 drew them off and arranged the socks inside of 
 them so as to economize the extra movement. 
 
 " The socks aren t his ! " said Macnooder. 
 "They re big enough for P. Lentz." 
 
 "Proceed," said Turkey Reiter. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad then unloosened his belt 
 and the trousers slipped down him as a sailor 
 down a greased pole. 
 
 Macnooder once more protested and was 
 squelched. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad arranged the voluminous 
 trousers, cast a final glance, placed the tooth 
 pick on the table and went under the covers. 
 
 " All ready? " said Dink. 
 
 "Wait!" With the left hand he clutched 
 the covers, with the right his nightshirt, just 
 back of the neck. " Ready now." 
 
 " Go ! " 
 
 With one motion the Tennessee Shad flung 
 the covers from him, tore off his nightshirt and 
 sprang from the bed like Venus from the waves. 
 
 The audience burst into cheers : 
 [227] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Holy Mike. " 
 
 u Greased lightning ! " 
 
 "Oh, you Shad!" 
 
 "Gee, right through the pants!" 
 
 " Suffering Moses ! " 
 
 " Look at him stab the shoes ! " 
 
 "Right into the coat!" 
 
 "Go it, Shad!" 
 
 " Out for the record ! " 
 
 " Gee, what a wash ! " 
 
 " Come on, boy, come on ! " 
 
 " Now for the part ! " 
 
 "Hurray!" 
 
 "Hurrah!" 
 
 "Hurroo!" 
 
 "Time twenty -six and one-fifth seconds, * 
 cried the shrill voice of Dennis de Brian de 
 Boru. "Equalizing the world s unchallenged 
 professional, amateur and scholastic record 
 made by the late Hickey Hicks! The cham 
 pion s belt is now the Tennessee Shad s to have 
 and to hold. According to the program the 
 champion and Doc Macnooder, second-best score, 
 will now run another heat for the mysterious 
 sealed prize, guaranteed to be worth over three 
 dollars and fifty cents ! " 
 
 Macnooder, adopting the Shad s theories of 
 preparation, made an extraordinary effort and 
 brought his record down to twenty-six and four- 
 [228] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 fifths seconds. The Tennessee Shad then, ac 
 cording to the plan agreed upon with Stover, 
 purposely broke a shoe-lace and lost the match. 
 
 Dink, in a speech full of malice, awarded che 
 mysterious sealed prize to Doc Macnooder, with 
 a request to open it at once. 
 
 Now, Macnooder, who had been busy thinking 
 the matter over, had sniffed the pollution in the 
 air and, perceiving a wicked twinkle in the eye 
 of Stover, shifted the ground by carrying off 
 the box despite a storm of protests to his room 
 in the Dickinson, where strategically proving 
 his title to Captain of Industry, he charged ten 
 cents admission to all who clamored to see the 
 clearing up of the mystery. 
 
 Having thus provided a substantial consola 
 tion against discomfiture and joined twenty 
 other curiosity-seekers to his own fortunes, he 
 opened the box and beheld the prodigal souve 
 nir set. At the same moment Dink stepped 
 forward and presented him with his own former 
 bill for three dollars and seventy-five cents. 
 
 That night, after Stover had returned much 
 puffed up with the congratulations of his school 
 mates on the outwitting of Macnooder, the Ten 
 nessee Shad took him to task from a philosoph* 
 ical point of view. 
 
 "Baron Munchausen, a word." 
 [229] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Lay on." 
 
 "You must come down to earth." 
 
 "Wherefor?" 
 
 You must occasionally, my boy, just as a 
 matter of safeguarding future ventures, start 
 in and scatter a few truths." 
 
 " Pooh ! " said Stover, with the memory of 
 cheers. "Any fool can tell the truth." 
 
 "Yes, but " 
 
 " It s such a lazy way ! " 
 
 still " 
 
 " Enervating ! " 
 
 "But " 
 
 " Besides, now they expect something more 
 from me." 
 
 " True," said the Tennessee Shad, " but don t 
 you see, Dink, if you do tell the truth no one will 
 believe you." 
 
 [230] 
 
XVII 
 
 Oh, we ll push her over 
 Or rip the cover 
 
 Too lad for the felloics that fall! 
 They must take their chances 
 Of a bruise or two 
 
 Who follow that jolly football. 
 
 So sang the group on the Kennedy steps, 
 heralding the twilight; and beyond, past the 
 Dickinson, a chorus from the Woodhull de 
 fiantly flung back the challenge. For that week 
 the Woodhull would clash with the Kennedy for 
 the championship of the houses. 
 
 The football season was drawing to a close, 
 only the final game with Andover remained, a 
 contest awaited with small hopes of victory. 
 For the season had been disastrous for the Var 
 sity; several members of the team had been 
 caught in the toils of the octopus examination 
 and, what was worse among the members, ill- 
 feeling existed due to past feuds. 
 
 Stover, in the long grueling days of practice, 
 
 had won the respect of all. Just how favorable 
 
 an impression he had made he did not himself 
 
 suspect. He had instinctive quickness and no 
 
 [231] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 sense of fear that was something that had 
 dropped from him forever. It was not that he 
 had to conquer the impulse to flinch, as most 
 boys do; it simply did not exist with him. The 
 sight of a phalanx of bone and muscle starting 
 for his end to sweep him off his feet roused only 
 a sort of combative rage, the true joy of battle. 
 He loved to go plunging into the unbroken front 
 and feel the shock of bodies as he tried for the 
 elusive legs of Flash Condit or Charley DeSoto* 
 
 This utter recklessness was indeed his chief 
 fault; he would rather charge interference than 
 fight it off, waiting for others to break it up 
 for him and so make sure of his man. 
 
 Gradually, however, through the strenuous 
 weeks, he learned the deeper lessons of foot 
 ball how to use his courage and the control of 
 his impulses. 
 
 "It s a game of brains, youngster, remember 
 that," Mr. Ware would repeat day after day, 
 hauling him out of desperate plunges. "That 
 did no good; better keep on your feet and fol 
 low, the ball. Above all, study the game." 
 
 His first lesson came when, at last being pro 
 moted to end on the scrub, he found himself 
 lined up against Tough McCarty, the opposing 
 tackle. Stover thought he saw the intention at 
 once. 
 
 "Put me against Tough McCarty, eh?" he 
 [232] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 said, digging his nails into the palms of his 
 hands. " Want to try out my nerve, eh? I ll 
 show ? em!" 
 
 Now McCarty did not relish the situation 
 either; foreseeing as he did the long weeks of 
 strenuous contact with the one boy in the school 
 who was vowed to an abiding vengeance. The 
 fact was that Tough McCarty, who was univer 
 sally liked for his good nature and sociable in 
 clination, had yielded to the irritation Stover s 
 unceasing enmity had aroused and had come 
 gradually into something of the same attitude 
 of hostility. Also, he saw in the captain s as 
 signing Stover to his end a malicious attempt to 
 secure amusement at his expense. 
 
 For all which reasons, when the scrub first 
 lined up against the Varsity, the alarum of bat 
 tle that rode on Stover s pugnacious front was 
 equaled by the intensity of his enemy s coldly- 
 calculating glance. 
 
 " Here s where I squash that fly," thought Mc 
 Carty. 
 
 "Here s where I fasten to that big stuff," 
 thought Dink, " and sting him until the last day 
 of the season ! " 
 
 The first direct clash came when the scrubs 
 were given the ball and Dink came in to aid his 
 tackle box McCarty for the run that was sig 
 naled around their end. 
 
 [233] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Tough made the mistake of estimating Stover 
 simply by his lack of weight, without taking ac 
 count of the nervous, dynamic energy which was 
 his strength. Consequently, at the snap of the 
 ball, he was taken by surprise by the wild spring 
 that Stover made directly at his throat and, 
 thrown off his balance momentarily by the 
 frenzy of the impact, tripped and went down 
 under the triumphant Dink, who, unmindful of 
 the fact that the play had gone by, remained 
 proudly fixed on the chest of the prostrate 
 tackle. 
 
 " Get off," said the muffled voice. 
 
 Stover, whose animal instincts were all those 
 of the bulldog, pressed down more firmly. 
 
 "Get off of mie, you little blockhead," said 
 McCarty growing furious as he heard the 
 jeers of his teammates at his humiliating re 
 versal. 
 
 " Hurry up there, you Stover ! " cried the voice 
 of the captain, unheeded, for Dink was too 
 blindly happy with the thrill of perfect suprem 
 acy over the hated McCarty to realize the situa 
 tion. 
 
 "Stover! ! ! 
 
 At the shouted command Dink looked up and 
 at last perceived the play was over. Reluct 
 antly he started to rise, when a sudden upheaval 
 of the infuriated McCarty caught him unawares 
 [234] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 and Tough s vigorous arm flung him head over 
 heels. 
 
 Down went Dink with a thump and up again 
 with rage in his heart. He rushed up to Me- 
 Carty as in the mad fight under the willows and 
 struck him a resounding blow. 
 
 The next moment not Tough, but CockrelPs 
 own mighty hand caught him by the collar and 
 swung him around. 
 
 "Get off the field ! 
 
 "What?" said Dink, astounded, for in his 
 ignorance he had expected complimentary pats 
 on his back. 
 
 "Off the field!" 
 
 Dink, cold in a minute, quailed under the 
 stern eye of the supreme leader. 
 
 "I did sling him pretty hard, Garry," said 
 Tough, taking pity at the look that came into 
 Dink s eyes at this rebuke. 
 
 "Get off!" 
 
 Dink, who had stopped with a sort of de 
 spairing hope, went slowly to the side-lines, 
 threw a blanket over his head and shoulders and 
 squatted down in bitter, utter misery. Another 
 was in his place, plunging at the tackle that 
 should have been his, racing down the field 
 under punts that made the blood leap in his 
 exiled body. He did not understand. Why had 
 he been disgraced? He had only shown he 
 [235] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 wasn t afraid wasn t that why they had put 
 him opposite Tough McCarty, after all? 
 
 The contending lines stopped at last their 
 tangled rushes and straggled, panting, back for 
 a short intermission. Dink, waiting under the 
 blanket, saw the captain bear down upon him 
 and, shivering like a dog watching the approach 
 of his punishment, drew the folds tighter about 
 him. 
 
 " Stover," said the dreadful voice, loud enough 
 so that every one could hear, " you seem to have 
 an idea that football is run like a slaughter 
 house. The quicker you get that out of your 
 head the better. Now, do you know why I fired 
 you? Do you?" 
 
 " For slugging," said Dink faintly. 
 
 "Not at all. I fired you because you lost 
 your head; because you forgot you were play 
 ing football. If you re only going into this to 
 work off your private grudges, then I don t want 
 you around. I ll fire you off and keep you off. 
 You re here to play football, to think of eleven 
 men, not one. You re to use your brains, not 
 your fists. Why, the first game you play in some 
 one will tease you into slugging him and the 
 umpire will fire you. Then where ll the team 
 be? There are eleven men in this game on your 
 side and on the other. No matter wlhat happens 
 don t lose your temper, don t be so stupid, so 
 brainless do you hear?" 
 [236] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Dink, who had gradually re 
 tired under his blanket until only the tip of the 
 nose showed and the terror-stricken eyes. 
 
 " And don t forget this. You don t count. It 
 isn t the slightest interest to the team whether 
 some one whales you or mauls you ! It isn t the 
 slightest interest to you, either. Mind that! 
 Nothing on earth is going to get your mind 
 off following the ball, sizing up the play, 
 working out the weak points nothing. Brains, 
 brains, brains, Stover! You told me you came 
 out here because we needed some one to be 
 banged around and I took you on your 
 word, didn t I? Now, if you re going out 
 there as an egotistical, puffed-up, conceited 
 individual who s thinking only of his own skin, 
 who isn t willing to sacrifice his own little, 
 measly feelings for the sake of the school, who 
 won t fight for the team, but himself " 
 
 " I say, Cap, that s enough," said Dink with 
 difficulty; and immediately retired so deep that 
 only the mute, pleading eyes could be discerned. 
 
 Cockrell stopped short, bit his lip and said 
 sternly: "Line up now. Get in, Stover, and 
 don t let me ever have to call you down again. 
 Tough, see here." The two elevens ran out. 
 The captain continued : " Tough, every chance 
 you get to-day give that little firebrand a jab. 
 understand? So it can t be seen." 
 
 The Varsity took the ball and /or five minutes 
 [237] 
 
THE VAEMINT 
 
 Dink felt as though he were in an angry sea, 
 buffeted, flung down and whirled about by mas 
 sive breakers. Without sufficient experience his 
 weight was powerless to stop the interference 
 that bore him back. He tried to meet it stand 
 ing up and was rolled head over heels by the 
 brawny shoulders of Cheyenne Baxter and Doc 
 Macnooder. Then, angrily, he tried charging 
 into the offenses and was drawn in and smoth 
 ered while the back went sweeping around his 
 unprotected end for long gains. 
 
 Mr. Ware came up and volunteered sugges 
 tions : 
 
 " If you re going into it dive through them, 
 push them apart with your hands so. Keep 
 dodging so that the back won t know whether 
 you re going around or through. Keep him 
 guessing and follow up the play if you miss the 
 first tackle." 
 
 Under this coaching Dink, who had begun to 
 be discouraged, improved and when he did get 
 a chance at his man he dropped him with a 
 fierce, clean tackle, for this branch of the game 
 he had mastered with instinctive delight. 
 
 " Give the ball to the scrubs," said the captain, 
 who was also coaching. 
 
 Stover came in close to his tackle. The third 
 signal was a trial at end. He flung himself at 
 McCarty, checked him and, to his amazement, 
 [238] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 received a dig in the ribs. His fists clenched, 
 went back and then stopped as remembering, he 
 drew a long breath and walked away, his eyes 
 on the ground ; for the lesson was a rude one to 
 learn. 
 
 " Stover, what are you doing? " cried the cap 
 tain, who had seen all. 
 
 Dink, who had expected to be praised, was be 
 wildered as well as hurt. 
 
 "What are you stopping for? You re think 
 ing of McCarty again, aren t you? Do you 
 know where your place was? Back of your own 
 half. Follow up the play. If you d been there 
 to push there d been an extra yard. Think 
 quicker, Stover." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Stover, suddenly perceiving 
 the truth. " You re right, I wasn t thinking." 
 
 " Look here, boy," said the captain, laying his 
 hand on his shoulders. " I have just one prin 
 ciple in a game and I want you to tuck it away 
 and never forget it." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Dink reverently. 
 
 "When you get in a game get fighting mad, 
 but get cold mad play like a fiend but keep 
 cold. Know just what you re doing and know 
 it all the time." 
 
 "Thank you, sir," said Dink, who never for 
 got the theory, which had a wider application 
 than Garry Cockrell perhaps suspected. 
 [239] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " You laid it on pretty strong," said Mr. Ware 
 to Cockrell, as they walked back after practice. 
 
 "I did it for several reasons," said Garry; 
 "first, because I believe the boy has the mak 
 ings of a great player in him; and second, I 
 was using him to talk to the team They re 
 not together and it s going to be hard to get 
 them together." 
 
 " Bad feeling? " 
 
 "Yes, several old grudges." 
 
 "What a pity, Garry," said Mr. Ware. 
 "What a pity it is you can t only have second 
 and third formers under you ! " 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 "Because they d follow you like mad Der 
 vishes," said Mr. Ware, thinking of Dink. 
 
 Stover, having once perceived that the game 
 was an intellectual one, learned by bounds. 
 McCarty, under instructions, tried his best to 
 provoke him, but met with the completest in 
 difference. Dink found a new delight in the 
 exercise of his wits, once the truth was borne 
 in on him that there are more ways of passing 
 beyond a windmill than riding it down. Owing 
 to his natural speed he was the fastest end on 
 the field to cover a punt, and once within diving 
 distance of his man he almost never missed. 
 He learned, too, that the scientific application 
 of his one hundred and thirty-eight pounds, 
 [240] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 well timed, was sufficient to counterbalance the 
 disadvantage in weight. He never loafed, he 
 never let a play go by without being in it, and 
 at retrieving fumbles he was quick as a cat. 
 
 Meanwhile the house championships had gone 
 on until the Woodhull and the Kennedy emerged 
 for the final conflict. The experience gained in 
 these contests, for on such occasions Stover 
 played with his House team, had sharpened his 
 powers of analysis and given him a needed ac 
 quaintance with the sudden, shifting crises of 
 actual play. 
 
 Now, the one darling desire of Stover, next 
 to winning the fair opinion of his captain, was 
 the rout of the Woodhull, of which Tough Mc- 
 Carty was the captain and his old acquaintances 
 of the miserable days at the Green were mem 
 bers Cheyenne Baxter, the Coffee-colored 
 Angel and Butsey White. This aggregation, 
 counting as it did two members of the Varsity, 
 was strong, but the Kennedy, with P. Lentz 
 and the Waladoo Bird and Pebble Stone, the 
 Gutter Pup, Lovely Mead and Stover, all of the 
 scrub, had a slight advantage. 
 
 Dink used to dream of mornings, in the lag 
 ging hours of recitation, of the contest and the 
 sweet humiliation of his ancient foes. He 
 would play like a demon, he would show them, 
 Tough McCarty and the rest, what it was to 
 [241] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 be up against the despised Dink- and dreaming 
 thus he used to say to himself, with suddenly 
 tense arms : 
 
 "Gee, I only wish McCarty would play back 
 of the line so I could get a chance at him ! " 
 
 But on Tuesday, during the Varsity practice, 
 suddenly as a scrimmage ended and sifted open 
 a cry went up. Ned Banks, left end on the 
 Varsity, was seen lying on the ground after an 
 attempt to rise. They gathered about him with 
 grave faces, while Mr. Ware bent over him in 
 anxious examination. 
 
 "What is it?" said the captain, with serious 
 face. 
 
 " Something wrong with his ankle ; can t telJ 
 yet just what." 
 
 " I ll play Saturday, Garry," said Banks, grit 
 ting his teeth. "I ll be ready by then. It s 
 nothing much." 
 
 The subs carried him off the field with dark 
 ened faces the last hopes of victory seemed to 
 vanish. The gloom spread thickly through the 
 school, even Dink, for a time, forgot the ap 
 proaching hour of his revenge in the great catas 
 trophe. The next morning a little comfort was 
 given them in the report of Doctor Charlie that 
 there was no sprain but only a slight wrenching, 
 which, if all went well, would allow him to 
 start the game. But the consolation was scant 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 What chance had Banks in an Andover gamer 
 There wpuld have to be a shift; but what? 
 
 "Turkey Reiter will have to go from tackle 
 to end," said Dink, that afternoon, as in foot 
 ball togs they gathered on the steps before the 
 game, " and put a sub in Turkey s place. 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " I don t know." 
 
 " I guess you don t." 
 
 " Might bring Butcher Stevens back from cen 
 ter." 
 
 "Who d go in at center?" 
 
 "Fatty Harris, perhaps." 
 
 "Hello here s Garry Cockrell now," said P. 
 Lentz. " He don t look particular cheerful, does 
 he?" 
 
 The captain, looking indeed very serious, ar 
 rived, surveyed the group and called Stover out. 
 Dink, surprised, jumped up, saying: 
 
 "You want me, sir?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Cockrell put his arm under his and drew him 
 away. 
 
 " Stover," he said, " I ve got bad news for you." 
 
 "For me?" 
 
 "Yes. I m not going to let you go in the 
 Woodhull game this afternoon." 
 
 Stover received the news as though it had 
 been the death of his entire family, immediate 
 [243] 
 
TETE VAKMINT 
 
 and distant. His throat choked, he tried to 
 say something and did not dare trust himself. 
 
 "I m sorry, my boy but we re up against it, 
 and I can t take any risks now of your getting 
 hurt." 
 
 " It means the game," said Dink at last. 
 
 " I m afraid so." 
 
 " We ve no one to put in my place no one but 
 Beekstein Hall," said Stover desperately. " Oh, 
 please, sir, let me play; I ll be awfully careful. 
 It s only a House game." 
 
 "Humph yes, I know these House games. 
 I m sorry, but there s no help for it." 
 
 "But I m only a scrub, sir," said Stover, 
 pleading hard. 
 
 " We re going to play you at end," said Cock- 
 rell suddenly, seeing he did not understand, 
 "just as soon as we have to take Banks out; 
 and Heaven only knows when that ll be." 
 
 Dink was aghast. 
 
 " You re not going you re not going " he 
 
 tried to speak, and stopped. 
 
 "Yes, we ve talked it over and that seems 
 best," 
 
 " But Turkey Reiter I I thought you d 
 move him out." 
 
 "No, we don t dare weaken the middle; it s 
 bad enough now." 
 
 "Oh, but I m so light." 
 [244] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 The captain watched the terror-stricken look 
 in his face and was puzzled. 
 
 "What s the matter? You re not getting 
 shaky?" 
 
 " Oh, no, sir," said Dink, " it s not that. It- 
 it seems so awful that you ve got to put me in." 
 
 " You re better, my boy, than you think," said 
 Cockrell, smiling a little, "and you re going to 
 be better than you know how. Now you under 
 stand why you ve got to keep on the side-lines 
 this afternoon. You re too fragile to take risks 
 on." 
 
 "Yes, I understand." 
 
 "It comes hard, doesn t it?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, it does; very hard." 
 
 When the Kennedy and the Woodhull lined 
 up for play an hour later little Pebble Stone 
 was at end in place of Stover, who watched from 
 his post as linesman the contest that was to have 
 been his opportunity. He heard nothing of the 
 buzzing comments behind, of the cheers or the 
 shouted entreaties. Gaze fixed and heart in 
 throat, he followed the swaying tide of battle, 
 imprisoned, powerless to rush in and stem the 
 disheartening advance. 
 
 The teams, now more evenly matched, both 
 showed the traces of tense nerves in the frequent 
 fumbling that kept the ball changing sides and 
 prevented a score during the first half. 
 [245] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 In the opening of the second half, by a lucky 
 recovery of a blocked kick, the Kennedy scored 
 a touchdown, but failed to kick the goal, making 
 the score four to nothing. The Woodhull then 
 began a determined assault upon the Kennedy s 
 weak end. Stover, powerless, beheld little Peb 
 ble Stone, fighting like grim death, carried back 
 and back five, ten yards at a time as the Wood- 
 hull swept up the field. 
 
 " It s the only place they can gain," he cried 
 in his soul in bitter iteration. 
 
 He looked around and caught the eye of Cap 
 tain Cockrell and sent him a mute, agonizing, 
 fruitless appeal. 
 
 " Kennedy s ball," came the sharp cry of Slug 
 ger Jones, the umpire. 
 
 Dink looked up and felt the blood come back 
 to his body again on the twenty-five yard line 
 there had been a fumble and the advance was 
 checked. Twice again the battered end of the 
 Kennedy was forced back for what seemed cer 
 tain touchdowns, only to be saved by loose work 
 on the WoodhulPs part. It was getting dark 
 and the half was ebbing fast three minutes 
 more to play. A fourth time the Woodhull furi 
 ously attacked the breach, gaining at every rush 
 over the light opposition, past the forty-yard 
 line, past the twenty-yard mark and trium 
 phantly, in the last minute of play, over the goal 
 [246] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 for a touchdown. The ball had been downed 
 well to the right of the goal posts and the trial 
 for goal was an unusually difficult one. The 
 score was a tie, everything depended on the goal 
 that, through the dusk, Tough McCarty was care 
 fully sighting. Dink, heartbroken, despairing, 
 leaning on his linesman s staff, directly behind 
 the ball, waited for the long, endless moments 
 to be over. Then there was a sudden move 
 ment of McCarty s body, a wild rush from the 
 Kennedy and the ball shot high in the air and, 
 to Stover s horror, passed barely inside the 
 farther goalpost. 
 
 " No goal," said Slugger Jones. " Time up." 
 
 Dink raised his head in surprise, scarcely cred 
 iting what he had heard. The Woodhull team 
 were furiously disputing the decision, encour 
 aged by audible comments from the spectators. 
 Slugger Jones, surrounded by a contesting, voci 
 ferous mass, suddenly swept them aside and be 
 gan to take the vote of the officials. 
 
 " Kiefer, what do you say? " 
 
 Cap Kiefer, referee, shook his head. 
 
 " I m sorry, Slugger, it was close, very close, 
 but it did seem a goal to me." 
 
 "Tug, what do you say?" 
 
 " Goal, sure," said Tug Wilson, linesman for 
 the Woodhull. At this, jeers and hoots broke 
 out from the Kennedy. 
 
 [247] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Of course he ll say that!" 
 
 "He s from the Woodhull." 
 
 "What do you think?" 
 
 "Justice!" 
 
 " Hold up, hold up, now," said Slugger Jones, 
 more excited than any one. " Don t get excited ; 
 it s up to your own man. Dink, was it a goal 
 or no goal ? " 
 
 Stover suddenly found himself in a whirling, 
 angry mass the decision of the game in his own 
 hands. He saw the faces of Tough McCarty and 
 the Coffee-colored Angel in the blank crowd 
 about him and he saw the sneer on their faces 
 as they waited for his answer. Then he saw the 
 faces of his own teammates and knew what they, 
 in their frenzy, expected from him. 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 "Goal or no goal?" cried the umpire, for the 
 second time. 
 
 Then suddenly, face to face with the hostile 
 mass, the fighting blood came to Dink. Some 
 thing cold went up his back. He looked once 
 more above the riot, to the shadowy posts, trying 
 to forget Tough McCarty, and then, with a snap 
 to his jaws, he answered: 
 
 " Goal." 
 
 [248] 
 
XVIII 
 
 Dink returned to his room in a rage against 
 trverything and every one, at Slugger Jones for 
 having submitted the question, at Tough Mc- 
 Carty for having looked as though he expected 
 a lie, and at himself for ever having acted as 
 linesman. 
 
 If it haa not been the last days before the 
 Andover match he would have found some con 
 solation in rushing over to the Woodhull and 
 provoking McCarty to the long-deferred fight. 
 
 " He thought I d lie out of it," he said furi 
 ously. " He did ; I saw it. I ll settle that with 
 him, too. Now I suppose every one in this 
 house ll be down on me; but they d better be 
 mighty careful how they express it." 
 
 For as he had left the field he had heard only 
 too clearly how the Kennedy eleven, in the un 
 reasoning passion of conflict, had expressed it 
 self. At present, through the open window, the 
 sounds of violent words were borne up to him 
 from below. He approached and looked down 
 upon the furious assembly. 
 
 " Damn me up and down, damn me all you 
 want," he said, doubling up his fists. "Keep 
 it up, but don t come up to me with it." 
 [249] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Suddenly, back of him, the door opened and 
 shut and Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan 
 stood in the room. 
 
 "I say, Dink " 
 
 "Get out," said Stover furiously, seizing a 
 pillow. 
 
 Finnegan precipitately retired and, placing 
 the door between him and the danger, opened it 
 slightly and inserted his freckled little nose. 
 
 " I say, Dink " 
 
 "Get out, I told you!" The pillow, struck 
 the door with a bang. " I won t have any one 
 snooping around here ! " 
 
 The next instant Dennis, resolved on martyr 
 dom, stepped inside, saying: 
 
 " I say, old man, if it ll do you any good, take 
 it out on me." 
 
 Stover, thus defied, stopped and said: 
 
 " Dennis, I don t want to talk about it." 
 
 " All right," said Dennis, sitting down. 
 
 "And I want to be alone." 
 
 "Correct," said Dennis, who didn t budge. 
 
 They sat in moody silence, without lighting 
 the lamp. 
 
 "Pretty tough," said Dennis at last. 
 
 Stover s answer was a grunt. 
 
 " You couldn t see it the way the umpire did, 
 could you? " 
 
 "No, I couldn t." 
 
 [250] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Pretty tough!" 
 
 "I suppose," said Dink finally, "the fellows 
 are wild." 
 
 " A little a little excited," said Dennis care 
 fully. " It was tough pretty tough ! " 
 
 "You don t suppose I w r anted that gang of 
 muckers to win, do you?" said Stover. 
 
 " I know," said Dennis sympathetically. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad now returned from the 
 wars, covered with mud and the more visible 
 marks of the combat. 
 
 " Hello," he said gruffly. 
 
 "Hello," said Stover. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad went wearily to his cor 
 ner and stripped for the bath. 
 
 " Well, say it," said Stover, who, in his agita 
 tion, had actually picked up a textbook and 
 started to study. "Jump on me, why don t 
 you?" 
 
 " I m not going to jump on you," said the 
 Tennessee Shad, who weakly pulled off the heavy 
 shoes. " Only well, you couldn t see it as the 
 umpire did, could you?" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "What a day what an awful day!" 
 
 Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan, with 
 great tact, rose and hesitated : 
 
 " I m going I I ve got to get ready for sup 
 per," he said desperately. Then he went lamely 
 [251] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 over to Stover and held out his hand : " I know 
 how you feel old man, but but I m glad you 
 did it!" 
 
 Whereupon he disappeared in blushing pre 
 cipitation. 
 
 Stover breathed hard and tried to bring his 
 mind to the printed lesson. The Tennessee 
 Shad, sighing audibly, continued his ablutions, 
 dressed and sat down. 
 
 " Dink." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Why did you do it? " 
 
 Then Stover, flinging down his book with an 
 access of rage, cried out : 
 
 "Why? Because you all, every damn one of 
 you, expected me to lie!" 
 
 
 
 The next day Stover, who had firmly made up 
 his mind to a sort of modified ostracism, was 
 amazed to find that over night he had become a 
 hero. By the next morning the passion and the 
 bitterness of the struggle having died away, the 
 house looked at the matter in a calmer mood 
 and one by one came to him and gripped Ms 
 hand with halting, blurted words, of apology 
 or explanation. 
 
 Utterly unprepared for this development, Sto 
 ver all at once realized that he had won what 
 neither courage nor wit had been able to bring 
 him, the something he had always longed for 
 [252] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 without being quite able to name it the respect 
 of his fellows. He felt it in the looks that fol 
 lowed him as he went over to chapel, in the 
 nodded recognition of Fifth Formers, who had 
 never before noticed him, in The Roman himself, 
 who flunked him without satire or aggravation. 
 And not yet knowing himself, his impulses or 
 the strange things that lay dormant beneath 
 the surface of his everyday life, Stover was a 
 little ashamed, as though he did not deserve it 
 all. 
 
 That afternoon as Dink was donning his foot 
 ball togs, preparing for practice, a knock came 
 at the door which opened on a very much em 
 barrassed delegation from the Woodhull the 
 Coffee-colored Angel, Cheyenne Baxter and 
 Tough McCarty. 
 
 "I say, is that you, Dink?" said the Coffee- 
 colored Angel. 
 
 " It is," said Stover, with as much dignity 
 as the state of his wardrobe would permit. 
 
 "I say, we ve come over from the Woodhull, 
 you know," continued the Coffee-colored Angel, 
 who stopped after this bit of illuminating news. 
 
 "Well, what do you want?" 
 
 "I say, that s not just it; we re sent by the 
 Woodhull I meant to say, and we want to say, 
 we want you to know how white we think it 
 w r as of you ! " 
 
 " Old man," said Cheyenne Baxter, " we want 
 [253] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 to tliank you. What we want to tell you is how 
 white we think it was of you." 
 
 "You needn t thank me," said Stover gruffly, 
 pulling his leg through the football trousers. 
 "I didn t want to do it." 
 
 The delegation stood confused, wondering how 
 to end the painful scene. 
 
 "It was awful white!" said the Coffee-col 
 ored Angel, tying knots in his sweater. 
 
 " It certainly was," said Cheyenne. 
 
 As this brought them no further along the 
 Coffee-colored Angel exclaimed in alarm: 
 
 "I say, Dink, will you shake hands?" 
 
 Stover gravely extended his right. 
 
 Cheyenne next clung to it, blurting out: 
 
 " Say, Dink, I wish I could make you under 
 stand just just how white we think it was ! " 
 
 The two rushed away leaving Tough McCarty 
 to have his say. Both stood awkwardly, fright 
 ened before the possibility of a display of senti 
 ment, 
 
 " Look here," said Tough firmly, and then 
 stopped, drew a lon^ breath and continued: 
 " Say, you and I have sort of formed up a sort 
 of vendetta and all that sort of thing, haven t 
 we?" 
 
 " We have." 
 
 "Now, I m not going to call that off. I don t 
 suppose you d want it, either." 
 
 [254:] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 "No, I wouldn t!" 
 
 "We ve got to have a good, old, slam-bang 
 fight sooner or later and then, perhaps, it ll be 
 different. I m not coming around asking you 
 to be friends, or anything like that sort of rot, 
 vou know^ but what I want you to know is 
 th is is this what I want you to understand 
 is just how darned ichite that was of you ! " 
 
 "All right," said Stover frigidly, because he 
 was tremendously moved and in terror of show 
 ing it, 
 
 " That s not what I wanted to say," said 
 Tough, frowning terrifically and kicking the 
 floor. " I mean I say, you know what I mean, 
 don t you?" 
 
 "All right," said Stover gruffly. 
 
 "And I say," said Tough, remembering only 
 one line of all he had come prepared to say, 
 "if you ll let me, Stover, I should consider it 
 an honor to shake your hand." 
 
 Dink gave his hand, trembling a little. 
 
 " Of course you understand," said Tough who 
 thought he comprehended Stover s silence, " of 
 course we fight it out some day." 
 
 "All right," said Stover gruffly. 
 
 Tough McCarty went away. Dink, left alone, 
 
 clad in his voluminous football trousers, sat 
 
 staring at the door, clasping his hands tensely 
 
 between his knees, and something inside of him 
 
 [255] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 welled up, dangerously threatening his eyes 
 something feminine, to be choked instantly 
 down. 
 
 He rose angrily, flung back his hair and filled 
 his lungs. Then he stopped. 
 
 " What the deuce are they all making JS^T^ 
 a fuss for?" he said. "I only told the truth." 
 
 He struggled into his jersey, still trying to 
 answer the problem. In his abstraction he 
 drew a neat part in his hair before perceiving 
 the fan pas, he hurriedly obliterated the effete 
 mark. 
 
 " I guess," he said, standing at the window 
 still pondering over the new attitude towarc 
 himself " I guess, after all, I don t know it all. 
 Tough McCarty well, I ll be damned!" 
 
 Saturday came all too soon and with it the 
 arrival of the stocky Andover eleven. Dink 
 dressed and went slowly across the campus 
 every step seemed an effort. Everywhere was 
 an air of seriousness and apprehension, strangely 
 contrasted to the gay ferment that usually an 
 nounced a big game. He felt a hundred eyes 
 on him as he went and knew what was in every 
 one s mind. What would happen when Ned 
 Banks would have to retire and he, little Dink 
 Stover, weighing one hundred and thirty-eight, 
 would have to go forth to stand at the end of 
 the line. !nd because Stover had learned the 
 [256] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 lesson of football, the sacrifice for an idea, he 
 too felt not fear but a sort of despair that the 
 hopes of the great school would have to rest 
 upon him, little Dink Stover, who weighed only 
 one hundred and thirty-eight pounds. 
 
 He went quietly to the Upper, his eyes on 
 the ground like a guilty man, picking his way 
 through the crowds of Fifth Formers, who 
 watched him pass with critical looks, and up the 
 heavy stairs to Garry Cockrell s room, where 
 the team sat quietly listening to the final in 
 structions. He took his seat silently in an ob 
 scure corner, studying the stern faces about him, 
 hearing nothing of Mr. Ware s staccato periods, 
 his eyes irresistibly drawn to his captain, won 
 dering how suddenly older he looked and grave. 
 
 By his side Ned Banks was listening stolidly 
 and Charlie DeSoto, twisting a paper-weight in 
 his nervous fingers, fidgeting on his chair with 
 the longing for the fray. 
 
 " That s all," said the low voice of Garry Cock- 
 rell. "You know what you have to do. Go 
 down to Charlie s room; I want a few words 
 with Stover." 
 
 They went sternly and quickly, Mr. Ware with 
 them. Dink was alone, standing stiff and 
 straight, his heart thumping violently, waiting 
 for his captain to speak. 
 
 "How do you feel?" 
 
 [257] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "I m ready, sir." 
 
 " I don t know, when you ll get in the game 
 probably before the first half is over," said Cock- 
 rell slowly. "We re going to put up to you a 
 pretty hard proposition, youngster." He came 
 nearer, laying his hand on Stover s shoulder. 
 "I m not going to talk nerve to you, young 
 bulldog, I don t need to. I ve watched you and 
 I know the stuff that s in you." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 "Not but what you ll need it more than 
 you ve ever needed it before. You ve no right 
 in this game." 
 
 " I know it, sir." 
 
 " Tough McCarty won t be able to help you 
 out much. He s got the toughest man in the 
 line. Everything s coming at you, my boy, and 
 you ve got to stand it off, somehow. Now, lis 
 ten once more. It s a game for the long head, 
 for the cool head. You ve got to think quicker, 
 you ve got to out-think every man on the field 
 and you can do it. And remember this: No 
 matter what happens never let up get your 
 man back of the line if you can, get him twenty- 
 five yards beyond you, get him on the one-yard 
 line, but get him ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "And now one thing more. There s all sorts 
 of ways you can play the game. You can charge 
 [258] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 in like a bull and kill yourself off in ten minutes, 
 but that won t do. You can go in and make 
 grandstand plays and get carried off the field, 
 but that won t do. My boy, you ve got to last 
 out the game." 
 
 " I see, sir." 
 
 "Remember there s a bigger thing than your 
 self you re fighting for, Stover it s the school, 
 the old school. Now, when you re on the side 
 lines don t lose any time; watch your men, find 
 out their tricks, see if they look up or change 
 their footing when they start for an end run. 
 Everything is going to count. Now, come on." 
 
 They joined the eleven below and presently, 
 in a compact body, went out and through Me 
 morial and the chapel, where suddenly the field 
 appeared and a great roar went up from the 
 school. 
 
 "All ready," said the captain. 
 
 They broke into a trot and swept up to the 
 cheering mass. Dink remembered seeing the 
 Tennessee Shad, in his shirt sleeves, frantically 
 leading the school and thinking how funny he 
 looked. Then some one pulled a blanket over 
 him and he was camped among the substitutes, 
 peering out at the gridiron where already the 
 two elevens were sweeping back and forth in 
 vigorous signal drill. 
 
 He looked eagerly at the Andover eleven. 
 [259] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 They were big, rangy fellows and their team 
 worked with a precision and machine-like rush 
 that the red and black team did not have. 
 
 " Trouble with us is," said the voice of Fatty 
 Harris, at his elbow, "our team s never gotten 
 together. The fellows would rather slug each 
 other than the enemy." 
 
 " Gee, that fellow at tackle is a monster," said 
 Dink, picking out McCarty s opponent. 
 
 "Look at Turkey Reiter and the Waladoo 
 Bird," continued Fatty Harris. " Bad blood ! 
 And there s Tough McCarty and King Lentz. 
 We re not together, I tell you! We re hanging 
 apart ! " 
 
 "Lord, will they ever begin!" said Dink, 
 blowing on his hands that had suddenly gone 
 limp and clammy. 
 
 "We ve won the toss," said another voice. 
 " There s a big wind, we ll take sides." 
 
 "Andover s kick-off," said Fatty Harris. 
 
 Stover sunk his head in his blanket, waiting 
 for the awful moment to end. Then a whistle 
 piped and he raised his head again. The ball 
 had landed short, into the arms of Butcher 
 Stevens, who plunged ahead for a slight 
 gain and went down under a shock of blue jer 
 seys. 
 
 Stover felt the warm blood return, the sink 
 ing feeling in the pit of his stomach left him, 
 [260] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 he felt, amazed, a great calm settling over him, 
 as though he had jumped from out his own body. 
 
 " If Flash Condit can once get loose," he said 
 quietly, " he ll score. They ought to try a dash 
 through tackle before the others warm up. 
 Good!" 
 
 As if in obedience to his thought Flash Con 
 dit came rushing through the line, between end 
 and tackle, but the Andover left halfback, who 
 was alert, caught him and brought him to the 
 ground after a gain of ten yards. 
 
 "Pretty fast, that chap," thought Dink. 
 "Too bad, Flash was almost clear." 
 
 "Who tackled him?" asked Fatty Harris. 
 
 " Goodhue," came the answer from somewhere. 
 " They say he runs the hundred in ten and a 
 fifth." 
 
 The next try was not so fortunate, the blue 
 line charged quicker and stopped Cheyenne Bax 
 ter without a gain. Charlie DeSoto tried a 
 quarter-back run and some one broke through 
 between the Waladoo Bird and Turkey Reiter. 
 
 " Not together not together," said the dismal 
 voice of Fatty Harris. 
 
 The signal was given for a punt and the ball 
 lifted in the air went soaring down the field on 
 the force of the wind. It was too long a punt 
 for the ends to cover, and the Andover back 
 with a good start came twisting through the 
 [261] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 territory of Ned Banks who had been blocked 
 off by his opponent. 
 
 " Watch that Andover end, Stover," said Mr. 
 Ware. "Study out his methods." 
 
 " All right, sir," said Dink, who had watched 
 no one else. 
 
 He waited breathless for the first shock of the 
 Andover attack. It came with a rush, compact 
 and solid, and swept back the Lawrenceville left 
 side for a good eight yards. 
 
 "Good-by!" said Harris in a whisper. 
 
 Dink began to whistle, moving down the field, 
 watching the backs. Another machine-like ad 
 vance and another big gain succeeded. 
 
 " They ll wake up," said Dink solemnly to him 
 self. " They ll stop em in a minute." 
 
 But they did not stop. Kush by rush, irre 
 sistibly the blue left their own territory and 
 passed the forty-five yard line of Lawrenceville. 
 Then a fumble occurred and the ball went again 
 with the gale far out of danger, over the heads 
 of the Andover backs who had misjudged its 
 treacherous course. 
 
 " Lucky we ve got the wind," said Dink, calm 
 amid the roaring cheers about him. " Gee, that 
 Andover attack s going to be hard to stop. 
 Banks is beginning to limp." 
 
 The blue, after a few quick advances, formed 
 and swept out toward Garry Cockrell s end. 
 [262] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Three yards lost," said Dink grimly. " They 
 won t try him often. Funny they re not onto 
 Banks. Lord, how they can gain through the 
 center of the line. First down again." Sub 
 stitute and coach, the frantic school, alumni 
 over from Princeton, kept up a constant storm 
 of shouts and entreaties: 
 
 " Oh, get together ! " 
 
 " Throw em back ! " 
 
 "Hold eni!" 
 
 " First down again ! " 
 
 " Hold em, Lawrenceville ! " 
 
 " Don t let them carry it seventy yards ! " 
 
 " Get the jump ! " 
 
 " There they go again ! " 
 
 " Ten yards around Banks ! " 
 
 Stover alone, squatting opposite the line of 
 play, moving as it moved, coldly critical, studied 
 each individuality. 
 
 " Funny nervous little tricks that Goodhue s 
 got blows on his hands does that mean he 
 takes the ball? No, all a bluff. What s he do 
 when he does take it? Quiet and looks at the 
 ground. When he doesn t take it he tries to pre 
 tend he does. I ll tuck that away. He s my 
 man. Seems to switch in just as the interfer 
 ence strikes the end about ten feet beyond tackle, 
 running low Banks is playing too high ; better, 
 perhaps, to run in on em now and then before 
 [263] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 they get started. There s going to be trouble 
 there in a minute. The fellows aren t up on 
 their toes yet what is the matter, anyhow? 
 Tough s getting boxed right along, he ought to 
 play out further, I should think. Hello, some 
 one fumbled again. Who s got it? Looks like 
 Garry. No, they recovered it themselves no, 
 they didn t. Lord, what a butter-fingered lot 
 why doesn t he get it? He has Charlie De- 
 Soto clear field can he make it? he ought to 
 where s that Goodhue? looks like a safe lead; 
 he ll make the twenty-yard line at least yes, 
 fully that, if he doesn t stumble there s that 
 Goodhue now some one ought to block him 
 off, good work that s it that makes the touch 
 down lucky very lucky ! " 
 
 Some one hit him a terrific clap on the shoul 
 der. He looked up in surprise to behold Fatty 
 Harris dancing about like a crazed man. The air 
 seemed all arms, hats were rising like startled 
 coveys of birds. Some one flung his arms 
 around him and hugged him. He flung him off 
 almost indignantly. What were they thinking 
 of that was only one touchdown four points 
 what was that against that blue team and the 
 wind at their backs, too. One touchdown wasn t 
 going to win the game. 
 
 "Why do they get so excited?" said Dink 
 Stover to John Stover, watching deliberately 
 [264] 
 
THE_ VARMINT 
 
 the ball soaring between the goalposts ; " 6 to 
 they think it s all over. Now s the rub." 
 
 Mr. Ware passed near him. He was quiet, 
 too, seeing far ahead. 
 
 " Better keep warmed up, Stover," he said. 
 
 "Biting his nails, that s a funny trick for a 
 master," thought Dink. "He oughtn t to be 
 nervous. That doesn t do any good." 
 
 The shouts of exultation were soon hushed; 
 with the advantage of the wind the game quickly 
 assumed a different complexion. Andover had 
 found the weak end and sent play after play 
 at Banks, driving him back for long advances. 
 
 "Take off your sweater," said Mr. Ware. 
 
 Dink flung it off, running up and down the 
 side-lines, springing from his toes. 
 
 "Why don t they take him out?" he thought 
 angrily, with almost a hatred of the fellow 7 who 
 was fighting it out in vain. "Can t they see 
 it? Ten yards more, oh, Lord! This ends it." 
 
 With a final rush the Andover interference 
 swung at Banks, brushed him aside and swept 
 over the remaining fifteen yards for the touch 
 down. A minute later the goal was kicked and 
 the elevens again changed sides. The sudden 
 ness with which the score had been tied im 
 pressed every one the school team seemed to 
 have no defense against the well-massed attacks 
 of the opponents. 
 
 [265] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Holes as big as a house/ said Fatty Harris, 
 " Asleep ! They re all asleep ! " 
 
 Dink, pacing up and down, waited the word 
 from Mr. Ware, rebelling because it did not 
 come. 
 
 Again the scrimmage began, a short advance 
 from the loosely-knit school eleven, a long punt 
 with the wind and then a quick, business-like 
 line-up of the blue team and another rush at the 
 vulnerable end. 
 
 " Ten yards more ; oh, it s giving it away ! " 
 said Fatty Harris. 
 
 Stover knelt and tried his shoelaces and ris 
 ing, tightened his belt. 
 
 " I ll be out there in a moment," he said to 
 himself. 
 
 Another gain at Banks end and suddenly 
 from the elevens across the field the figure of 
 the captain rose and waved a signal. 
 
 " Go in, Stover," said Mr. Ware. 
 
 He ran out across the long stretch to where 
 the players were moving restlessly, their clothes 
 flinging out clouds of steam. Back of him some 
 thing was roaring, cheering for him, perhaps, 
 hoping against hope. 
 
 Then he was in the midst of the contestants, 
 Garry Cockrell s arm about his shoulders, whis 
 pering something in his ear about keeping cool, 
 breaking up the interference if he couldn t get 
 [266] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 his man, following up the play. He went to 
 his position, noticing the sullen expressions of 
 his teammates, angry with the consciousness that 
 they were not doing their best. Then taking 
 his stand beyond Tough McCarty, he saw the 
 Andover quarter and the backs turn and study 
 him curiously. He noticed the half-back nearest 
 him, a stocky, close-cropped, red-haired fellow, 
 with brawny arms under his rolled-up jersey, 
 whose duty it would be to send him rolling on 
 the first rush. 
 
 "All ready?" cried the voice of the umpire. 
 First down." 
 
 The whistle blew, the two lines strained op 
 posite each other. Stover knew what the play 
 would be there was no question of that. For 
 tunately the last two rushes had carried the 
 play well over to his side the boundary was 
 only fifteen yards away. Dink had thought out 
 quickly what he would do. He crept in closer 
 than an end usually plays and at the snap of 
 the ball rushed straight into the starting inter 
 ference before it could gather dangerous momen 
 tum. The back, seeing him thus drawn in, in 
 stinctively swerved wide around his interference, 
 forced slightly back. Before he could turn for 
 ward his own speed and the necessity of distanc 
 ing Stover and Condit drove him out of bounds 
 for a four-yard loss. 
 
 [267] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Second down, nine yards to go ! " came the 
 verdict. 
 
 " Rather risky going in like that," said Flash 
 Condit, who backed up his side. 
 
 "Wanted to force him out of bounds/ said 
 Stover. 
 
 "Oh look out for something between tackle 
 and guard now." 
 
 " No they ll try the other side now to get a 
 clean sweep at me," said Stover. 
 
 The red-haired halfback disappeared in the 
 opposite side and, well protected, kept his feet 
 for five yards. 
 
 " Third down, four to gain." 
 
 " Now for a kick," said Stover, as the Ando- 
 ver end came out opposite him. " What the 
 deuce am I going to do to this coot to mix him 
 up. He looks more as though he d like to tackle 
 me than to get past." He looked over and 
 caught a glance from the Andover quarter. " I 
 wonder. Why not a fake kick? They ve sized 
 me up for green. I ll play it carefully." 
 
 At the play, instead of blocking, he jumped 
 back and to one side, escaping the end who 
 dove at his knees. Then, rushing ahead, he 
 stalled off the half and caught the fullback with 
 a tackle that brought him to his feet, rubbing 
 his side. 
 
 " Lawrenceville s ball. Time up for first 
 naif." 
 
 [268] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Dink had not thought of the time. Amazed, 
 he scrambled to his feet, half angry at the inter 
 ruption, and following the team went over to 
 the room to be talked to by the captain and the 
 coach. 
 
 It was a hang-dog crowd that gathered there, 
 quailing under the scornful lashing of Garry 
 Cockrell. He spared no one, he omitted no 
 names. Dink, listening, lowered his eyes, 
 ashamed to look upon the face of the team. One 
 or two cried out: 
 
 "Oh, I say, Garry!" 
 
 " That s too much ! " 
 
 "Too much, too much, is it?" cried their cap 
 tain, walking up and down, striking the flat of 
 his hand with the clenched fist. " By heavens, 
 it s nothing to what they re saying of us out 
 there. They re ashamed of us, one and all! 
 Listen to the cheering if you don t believe it! 
 They ll cheer a losing team, a team that is being 
 driven back foot by foot. There s something 
 glorious in that, but a team that stands up to 
 be pushed over, a team that lies down and quits, 
 a team that hasn t one bit of red fighting blood 
 in it, they won t cheer ; they re ashamed of you ! 
 Now, I ll tell you what s going to happen to you. 
 You re going to be run down the field for just 
 about four touchdowns. Here s Lentz being 
 tossed around by a fellow that weighs forty 
 pounds less. Why, he s the joke of the game. 
 [269] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 McCarty hasn t stopped a play, not one ! Wala 
 doo s so easy that they rest up walking through 
 him. But that s not the worst, you re playing 
 wide apart as though there wasn t a man within 
 ten miles of you; not one of you is helping out 
 the other. The only time you ve taken the ball 
 from them is when a little shaver comes in and 
 uses his head. Now, you re not going to win 
 this game, but by the Almighty you re going 
 out there and going to hold that Andover team ! 
 You ve got the wind against you; you ve got 
 everything against you; you ve got to fight on 
 your own goal line, not once, but twenty times. 
 But you ve got to hold em; you re going to make 
 good ; you re going to wipe out that disgraceful, 
 cowardly first half! You re going out there to 
 stand those fellows off! You re going to make 
 the school cheer for you again as though they 
 believed in you, as though they were proud of 
 you! You re going to do a bigger thing than 
 beat a weaker team! You re going to fight off 
 defeat and show that, if you can t win, you can t 
 be beaten ! " 
 
 Mr. Ware, in a professional way, passed from 
 one to another with a word of advice : " Play 
 lower, get the jump don t be drawn in by a 
 fake plunge watch Goodhue." 
 
 But Dink heard nothing; he sat in his corner, 
 clasping and unclasping his hands, suffering 
 [270] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 *vith the moments that separated him from the 
 fray. Then all at once he was back on the field, 
 catching the force of the wind that blew the hair 
 about his temples, hearing the half-hearted wel 
 come that went up from the school. 
 
 " Hear that cheer ! " said Garry Cockrell bit 
 terly. 
 
 From Butcher Stevens boot the ball went 
 twisting and veering down the field. Stover 
 went down, dodging instinctively, hardly know r - 
 ing what he did. Then as he started to spring 
 at the runner an interferer from behind flung 
 himself on him and sent him sprawling, but not 
 until one arm had caught and checked his 
 man. 
 
 McCarty had stopped the runner, when Dink 
 sprang to his feet, wild with the rage of having 
 missed his tackle. 
 
 " Steady ! " cried the voice of his captain. 
 
 He lined up hurriedly, seeing red. The inter 
 ference started for him, he flung himself at it 
 blindly and was buried under the body of the 
 red-haired half. Powerless to move, humiliat- 
 ingly held under the sturdy body, the passion of 
 fighting rose in him again. He tried to throw 
 him off, doubling up his fist, waiting until his 
 arm was free. 
 
 "Why, you re easy, kid," said a mocking 
 voice. " We ll come again." 
 [271] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 The taunt suddenly chilled him. Without 
 knowing how it happened, he laughed. 
 
 " That s the last time you get me, old rooster,* 
 lie said, in a voice that did not belong to him. 
 
 He glanced back. Andover had gained fif 
 teen yards. 
 
 "That comes from losing my head," he said 
 quietly. "That s over." 
 
 It had come, the cold consciousness of which 
 Cockrell had spoken, strange as the second wind 
 that surprises the distressed runner. 
 
 " I ve got to teach that red-haired coot a les 
 son," he said. " He s a little too confident. I ll 
 shake him up a bit." 
 
 The opportunity came on the third play, with 
 another attack on his end. He ran forward a 
 few steps and stood still, leaning a little for 
 ward, waiting for the red-haired back who came 
 plunging at him. Suddenly Dink dropped to 
 his knees, the interferer went violently over his 
 back, something struck Stover in the shoulder 
 and his arms closed with the fierce thrill of hold 
 ing his man. 
 
 "Second down, seven yards to gain," came 
 the welcome sound. 
 
 Time was taken out for the red-haired half 
 back, who had had the wind knocked out of him. 
 
 "Now he ll be more respectful," said Dink, 
 and as soon as he caught his eye he grinned. 
 " Red hair I ll see if I can t get his temper." 
 [272] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Thus checked and to use the advantage of the 
 wind Andover elected to kick. The ball went 
 twisting, and, changing its course in the strength 
 ening w r ind, escaped the clutches of Macnooder 
 and w^ent bounding toward the goal w r here Char 
 lie DeSoto saved it on the twenty-five-yard line. 
 In an instant the overwhelming disparity of the 
 sides was apparent. 
 
 A return kick at best could gain but twenty- 
 five or thirty yards. From now on they would 
 be on the defensive. 
 
 Dink came in to support his traditional enemy x 
 Tough McCarty. The quick, nervous voice of 
 Charlie DeSoto rose in a shriek : " Now, Law- 
 renceville, get into this, 7 52 3." 
 
 Dink swept around for a smash on the oppo 
 site tackle, head down, eyes fastened on the 
 back before him, feeling the shock of resistance 
 and the yielding response as he thrust forward, 
 pushing, heaving on, until everything piled up 
 before him. Four yards gained. 
 
 A second time they repeated the play, making 
 the first down. 
 
 " Time to spring a quick one through us," he 
 thought. 
 
 But again DeSoto elected the same play. 
 
 " What s he trying to do ? " said Dink. " Why 
 don t he vary it?" 
 
 Some one hauled him out of the tangled pile 
 It was Tough McCarty. 
 
 [273] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Say, our tackle s a stiff one," he said, with 
 his month to Stover s ear. " You take his 
 knees; I ll take him above this time." 
 
 Their signal came at last. Dink dove, trying 
 to meet the shifting knees and throw him off his 
 balance. The next moment a powerful arm 
 caught him as he left the ground and swept 
 him aside. 
 
 "Any gain?" he asked anxiously as he came 
 up. 
 
 "Only a yard," said McCarty. "He got 
 through and smeared the play." 
 
 "I know how to get him next time," said 
 Dink. 
 
 The play was repeated. This time Stover 
 made a feint and then dove successfully after 
 the big arm had swept fruitlessly past. Flash 
 Condit, darting through the line, was tackled by 
 Goodhue and fell forward for a gain. 
 
 "How much?" said Stover, rising joyfully. 
 
 " They re measuring." 
 
 The distance was tried and found to be two 
 feet short of the necessary five yards. The risk 
 was too great, a kick was signaled and the ball 
 was Andover s, just inside the center of the 
 field. 
 
 "Now, Lawrenceville," cried the captain, 
 "show what you re made of." 
 
 Tlie test came quickly, a plunge between Me 
 [274] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Carty and Lentz yielded three yards, a second 
 four. The Andover attack, with the same pre 
 cision as before, struck anywhere between the 
 tackles and found holes. Dink, at the bottom 
 of almost every pile, raged at Tough McCarty. 
 
 "He s doing nothing, he isn t fighting," he 
 said angrily. " He does t know what it is to 
 fight. Why doesn t he break up that interfer 
 ence for me?" 
 
 When the attack struck his end now it turned 
 in, slicing off tackle, the runner well screened 
 by close interference that held him up when 
 Stover tackled, dragging him on for the precious 
 yards. Three and four yards at a time, the blue 
 advance rolled its way irresistibly toward the 
 red and black goal. They were inside the 
 twenty-yard line now. 
 
 Cockrell was pleading with them. Little 
 Charlie DeSoto was running along the line, slap 
 ping their backs, calling frantically on them to 
 throw the blue back. 
 
 And gradually the line did stiffen, slowly but 
 perceptibly the advance was cut down. Enmi 
 ties were forgotten with the shadow of the goal 
 posts looming at their backs. Waladoo and Tur 
 key Reiter were fighting side by side, calling to 
 each other. Tough McCarty was hauling Stover 
 out of desperate scrimmages, patting him on the 
 back and calling him "good old Dink." The 
 [275] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 fighting blood that Garry Cockrell had called 
 upon was at last there the line had closed and 
 fought together. 
 
 And yet they were borne back to their fifteen- 
 yard line, two yards at a time, just losing the 
 fourth down. 
 
 Stover at end was trembling like a blooded 
 terrier, on edge for each play, shrieking: 
 
 " Oh, Tough, get through you must get 
 through ! " 
 
 He was playing by intuition now, no time to 
 plan. He knew just who had the ball and where 
 it was going. Out or in, the attack was con 
 centrating on his end only McCarty and he 
 could stop it. He was getting his man, but they 
 were dragging him on, fighting now for inches. 
 
 " Third down, one yard to gain ! " 
 
 "Watch my end," he shouted to Flash Con- 
 dit, and hurling himself forward at the start 
 ing backs dove under the knees, and grabbing 
 the legs about him went down buried under the 
 mass he had upset. 
 
 It seemed hours before the crushing bodies 
 were pulled off and some one s arm brought him 
 to his feet and some one hugged him, shouting 
 in his ear: 
 
 " You saved it, Dink, you saved it ! " 
 
 Some one rushed up with a sponge and began 
 dabbing his face. 
 
 [276] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " What the deuce are they doing that for? " 
 he said angrily. 
 
 Then he noticed that an arm was under his 
 and he turned curiously to the face near him. 
 It was Tough McCarty s. 
 
 " Whose ball is it? " he said. 
 
 Ours." 
 
 He looked to the other side. Garry Cockrell 
 was supporting him. 
 
 " What s the matter? " he said, trying to draw 
 his head away from the sponge that was dripping 
 water down his throat. 
 
 " Just a little wind knocked out, youngster 
 coming to? " 
 
 " I m all right." 
 
 He walked a few steps alone and then took 
 his place. Things were in a daze on the hori 
 zon, but not there in the field. Everything else 
 was shut out except his duty there. 
 
 Charlie DeSoto s voice rose shrill : 
 
 "Now, Lawrenceville, up the field with it. 
 This team s just begun to play. W T e ve got to 
 gether, boys. Let her rip ! " 
 
 No longer scattered, but a unit, all differences 
 forgot, fighting for the same idea, the team rose 
 up and crashed through the Andover line, every 
 man in the play, ten fifteen yards ahead. 
 
 " Again ! " came the strident cry. 
 
 Without a pause the line sprang into place, 
 [277] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 formed and swept forward. It was a privilege 
 to be in such a game, to feel the common frenzy, 
 the awakened glance of battle that showed down 
 the line. Dink, side by side with Tough Mc 
 Carty, thrilled with the same thrill, plunging 
 ahead with the same motion, fighting the same 
 fight ; no longer alone and desperate, but nerved 
 with the consciousness of a partner whose game- 
 ness matched his own. 
 
 For thirty yards they carried the ball down 
 the field, before the stronger Andover team, 
 thrown off its feet by the unexpected frenzy, 
 could rally and stand them off. Then an ex 
 change of punts once more drove them back to 
 their twenty-five-yard line. 
 
 A second time the Andover advance set out 
 from the fifty-yard line and slowly fought its 
 way to surrender the ball in the shadow of the 
 goalposts. 
 
 Stover played on in a daze, remembering noth 
 ing of the confused shock of bodies that had gone 
 before, wondering how much longer he could 
 hold out to last out the game as the captain 
 had told him. He was groggy, from time to time 
 he felt the sponge s cold touch on his face or 
 heard the voice of Tough McCarty in his ear. 
 
 " Good old Dink, die game ! " 
 
 How he loved McCarty fighting there by his 
 side, whispering to him : 
 [278] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "You and I, Dink ! What if he is an old ele 
 phant, we ll put him out the play." 
 
 Still, flesh and blood could not last forever* 
 The half must be nearly up. 
 
 "Two minutes more time." 
 
 "What was that?" he said groggily to Flash 
 Condit. 
 
 "Two minutes more. Hold em now!" 
 
 It was Andover s ball. He glanced around. 
 They were down near the twenty-five-yard line 
 somewhere. He looked at McCarty, whose fran 
 tic head showed against the sky. 
 
 " Break it up, Tough," he said, and struggled 
 toward him. 
 
 A cry went up, the play was halted. 
 
 " He s groggy," he heard voices say, and then 
 came the welcome splash of the sponge. 
 
 Slowly his vision cleared to the anxious faces 
 around him. 
 
 " Can you last? " said the captain. 
 
 " I m all right," he said gruffly. 
 
 " Things cleared up now? " 
 
 "Fine!" 
 
 McCarty put his arm about him and walked 
 with him. 
 
 "Oh, Dink, you will last, won t you?" 
 
 "You bet I will, Tough!" 
 
 "It s the last stand, old boy!" 
 
 " The last." 
 
 [279] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Only two minutes more we ve got to hold 
 em ! The last ditch, Dink." 
 
 " I ll last." 
 
 He looked up and saw the school crouching 
 along the line tense drawn faces. For the first 
 time he realized they were there, calling on him 
 to stand steadfast. 
 
 He went back, meeting the rush that came 
 his way, half -knocked aside, half -getting his 
 man, dragged again until assistance came. 
 DeSoto s stinging hand slapped his back and the 
 sting was good, clearing his brain. 
 
 Things came into clear outline once more. 
 He saw down the line and to the end where 
 Garry Cockrell stood. 
 
 "Good old captain," he said. "They ll not 
 get by me, not now." 
 
 He was in every play it seemed to him, won 
 dering why Andover was always keeping the 
 ball, always coming at his end. Suddenly he 
 had a shock. Over his shoulder were the goal 
 posts, the line he stood on was the line of his 
 own goal. 
 
 He gave a hoarse cry and went forward like 
 a madman, parting the interference. Some one 
 else was through ; Tough was through ; the whole 
 line was through flinging back the runner. He 
 went down clinging to Goodhue, buried under 
 [280] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 a mass of his own tacklers. Then, through the 
 frenzy, he heard the shrill call of time. 
 
 He struggled to his feet The ball lay scarcely 
 four yards away from the glorious goalposts. 
 Then, before the school could sweep them up; 
 panting, exhausted, they gathered in a circle 
 with incredulous, delirious faces, and leaning 
 heavily, wearily on one another gave the cheer 
 for Andover. And the touch of Stover s arm 
 on McCarty s shoulder was like an embrace. 
 
XIX 
 
 At nine o clock that night Stover eluded Den 
 nis de Brian de Boru Finnegan and the Tennes 
 see Shad and went across the dusky campus, 
 faintly lit by the low-hanging moon. Past him 
 hundreds of gnomelike figures were scurrying, 
 carrying shadowy planks and barrels, while glee 
 ful voices crossed and recrossed. 
 
 " There s a whole pile back of Appleby s." 
 
 "We ve got an oil barrel." 
 
 " Burn every fence in the county ! " 
 
 " Who cares ! " 
 
 "Where did you get that plank?" 
 
 " Up by the Rouse." 
 
 "Gee, we ll have a bonfire bigger n the 
 chapel ! " 
 
 " More wood, Freshmen ! " 
 
 " Rotten lot, those Freshmen ! " 
 
 " Hold up your end, Skinny. Do you think 
 I m a pack mule? " 
 
 Dink pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes 
 and slunk away, not to be recognized. He went 
 in a roundabout way past the chapel. He had 
 just one desire, to stand under the goalposts 
 they had defended and to feel again the thrill. 
 [282] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Who s that?" The voice was Tough Mc- 
 Carty s. 
 
 "It s me. It s Dink," said Stover. 
 
 " I came down here," said McCarty, appearing 
 from under the goal-posts and hesitating a lit 
 tle, " well, just to feel how it felt again." 
 
 " So did I." 
 
 Dink stood by the posts, taking one affection 
 ately in his hand, and said curiously: "They 
 tell me, Tough, we held em four times inside 
 the ten-yard line." 
 
 " Four times, old boy." 
 
 " Funny I don t remember but two. Guess I 
 was groggy." 
 
 "You didn t show it." 
 
 " It was you pulled me through, Tough." 
 
 "Rats!" 
 
 " It was. There at the last, I remember when 
 you gripped me." As this was perilously near 
 sentiment he stopped. " I say, how 7 many of us 
 tackled that fellow the last time?" 
 
 "The whole bunch. I say, Dink." 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "Stand out here that s it, knee to knee. 
 Can t you just feel it behind you ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Dink, surprised that in the big 
 body there was an imagination akin to his own. 
 Then he said abruptly: 
 
 "Tough, I guess there won t be any fight." 
 [283] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " No not after this." 
 
 "What the deuce did we get a grudge for, 
 anyway?" 
 
 " I always liked you, Dink, but you wouldn t 
 have it." 
 
 " I was a mean little varmint ! " 
 
 "Eats! I say, Dink, we ve got two years more 
 on the old team. There s nothing going to get 
 around, our end, is there, old boy? " 
 
 " You bet there isn t ! " 
 
 All at once a flame ran up the towering bonfire 
 and belched toward the sky. 
 
 "Are you going to let them get you?" said 
 McCarty. 
 
 "Me? Oh, Lord, no I can t make a 
 speech ! " 
 
 "Neither can I!" said Tough mendaciously. 
 " I wouldn t go back there for the world ! " 
 
 The thin posts stood out against the sheet of 
 flame, gaunt, rigid, imbued with a certain gran 
 deur. 
 
 " I say, Dink," said McCarty. 
 
 " Yes? " 
 
 "I say, we re going to have some great old 
 fights together. But, do you know, I sort of 
 feel after all, this will be the best." 
 
 Then a chorus of thin shrieks rose about them. 
 They started half-heartedly to run, pretending 
 fury. A swarna of determined boyhood rushed 
 [284] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 over them and flung them kicking, struggling 
 into the air. 
 
 "Tough McCarty and Dink Stover!" 
 
 " We ve got em ! " 
 
 "On to the bonfire!" 
 
 " They re ours ! " 
 
 "Hurray!" 
 
 "Help!" 
 
 "Help! We ve got McCarty and Stover!" 
 
 Boys by the score came tearing out. The lit 
 tle knot under Dink became a thick, black 
 shadow, rushing forward with hilarious, trium 
 phant shouts. Then all at once he landed all- 
 fours on a cart before the flaming stack, greeted 
 by fishhorns and rattles, his name shrieked out 
 in a wild acclaim. 
 
 " Three cheers for good old Dink ! " 
 
 "Three cheers for honest John Stover!" 
 
 " Three cheers for the little cuss ! " 
 
 He drew himself up, fumbling at his cap, ter 
 rified at the multiplied faces that danced before 
 his eyes. 
 
 " I say, fellows " 
 
 "Hurray!" 
 
 "Good boy!" 
 
 "Orator!" 
 
 " I say, fellows, I don t see why you ve got me 
 up here." 
 
 "You don t!" 
 
 [285] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " We ll show you!" 
 
 " Dink, you re the finest ever ! " 
 
 "You re the stuff!" 
 
 " Three cheers for good old Einky Dink ! " 
 
 "Fellows, I m no silver-tongued orator " 
 
 "Don t believe it!" 
 
 "You are!" 
 
 " Fellows, I haven t got anything to say " 
 
 " That s the stuff ! " 
 
 "Hurray!" 
 
 "Keep it up!" 
 
 "Oh, you bulldog!" 
 
 " Fellows, they were good " 
 
 A derisive shout went up. 
 
 " Fellows, they were very good " 
 
 " Yes, they were ! " 
 
 " Fellows, they were re-markably good but 
 they didn t beat the old school team! That s 
 all." 
 
 He dove headlong into the crowd, unaware 
 that he had repeated for the sixth time the stock 
 oration of the evening. 
 
 " Good old Dink ! Good old Rinky Dink ! " 
 
 The cry stuck in his memory all through the 
 jubilant night and long after, when in his deli 
 cious bed he tossed and worried over the tackles 
 lie had missed. 
 
 " It s a bully nickname bully ! " he repeated 
 drowsily, again and again. "It sounds as 
 [286 ] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 though they liked you! And Tough McCarty, 
 what a bully chap bully! We re going to be 
 friends pals what a bully fellow! Every 
 thing is bully everything!" 
 
 With the close of the football season and the 
 advent of December, with its scurries of snow 
 and sleet, what might be termed the open season 
 for masters began. 
 
 A school of four hundred fellows is a good 
 deal like a shaky monarchy: the football and 
 baseball seasons akin to foreign wars; so long 
 as they last the tranquillity of the state is se 
 cure, but with the return of peace a state of fer 
 mentation and unrest is due. 
 
 The three weeks that lead to the Christmas 
 vacation are too filled with anticipation to be 
 dangerous. It is the long reaches after January 
 fifth, the period of arctic night that settles down 
 until the passing of the muddy month of March, 
 that tries the souls of the keepers of these caged 
 menageries. 
 
 Since those days a humane direction has built 
 a gymnasium to lighten the condition of servi 
 tude, preserve the health and prolong the lives 
 of the Faculty. But at this time, with the shut 
 ting of the door on the treadmills of exercise, 
 the young assistant master arranged his warm 
 [287] 
 
THE VAEMINT 
 
 wrapper and slippers at the side of his bed and 
 went to sleep with one ear raised. 
 
 Dink Stover entered this season of mischief 
 with all the ardor and intensity of his nature, 
 the more so because, owing to his weeks of strict 
 training and his virtual isolation of the year 
 before, it was all strange to him. And at that 
 period what is forbidden, dangerous and, above 
 all, untried, must be attempted at least once. 
 
 Now, owing to the foresight of a wise father, 
 Dink had never been forbidden to smoke. Of a 
 consequence when, at an early age, he practiced 
 upon an old corncob pipe and found it violently 
 disagreed with him, the desire abruptly ceased 
 and, as the athletic ardor came, he consecrated 
 his years to the duty of growing, with not the 
 slightest regret. 
 
 But between smoking under permission and 
 squeezing close to a cold-air ventilator, stealth 
 ily, in the pin-drop silences of the night, with 
 frightful risks of detection, was all the differ 
 ence in the world. One was a disagreeable, 
 thoroughly unsympathetic exercise; the other 
 was a romantic, mediaeval adventure. 
 
 So when Slops Barnett, who roomed below 
 and was the proprietor of a model air flue with 
 direct, perpendicular draught, said to him with 
 an air of mannish insouciance: 
 
 " I say, old man, I ve got a fat box of Gyp- 
 [288] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 tians. Glad to have you drop in to-night if you 
 like the weed." 
 
 Dink answered with blase familiarity: 
 
 "Why, thankee, I ve been aching for just a 
 good old coffin-nail." 
 
 He slipped down the creaking, nervous stairs, 
 and found Slops luxuriously reclining before the 
 ventilator, on a mattress re-enforced by yellow 
 and green sofa pillows, that gave the whole some 
 what of the devilishly dissipated effect of the 
 scenes from Oriental lands that fascinated him 
 on the covers of cigarette boxes. 
 
 Slops made him a sign in the deaf-and-dumb 
 language to extinguish the light and creep to 
 his side. 
 
 "Comfy?" said Slops, whispering from the 
 darkness. 
 
 "Out of sight!" 
 
 "Here s the filthy weed." 
 
 "Thanks." 
 
 " Always keep the cig in front of the ventila 
 tor," said Slops, applying his lips to Dink s ear. 
 "Get a light from mine. Talk in whispers." 
 
 Stover filled his cheeks cautiously and blew 
 out after a sufficient period. 
 
 "You inhale?" 
 
 " Sure." 
 
 " Inhale a cigar?" 
 
 " Always." 
 
 [289] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " It s awful the way I inhale," said Slops with 
 a melancholy sigh. "I m undermining my con 
 stitution. Ever see my hand? Shakes worse n 
 jelly. Can t help it, though; can t live without 
 the weed. I m a regular cig fiend ! " 
 
 Stover, holding his cigarette gingerly, keeping 
 the sickly smoke at the end of his tongue, looked 
 over at Slops stupid little face, flashing out of 
 the darkness at each puff. He was no longer the 
 useless Slops Barnett, good only to fetch and 
 carry the sweaters of the team, but Barnett, 
 man of the world, versed in deadly prac 
 tices. 
 
 " I say, Slops " 
 
 "Hist lower." 
 
 " I say, Slops, what would they do if they 
 caught us?" 
 
 " Bounce us." 
 
 "For good?" 
 
 "Sure! P. D. Q." 
 
 The cigarette suddenly had a new delight to 
 Dink. He was even tempted to inhale a small, 
 very small puff, but immediately conquered this 
 enthusiastic impulse. 
 
 " Isn t this the gay life, though? " said Slops 
 carelessly. 
 
 "You bet," said Dink. 
 
 From down the flue came three distinct taps. 
 
 " That s the Gutter Pup signaling," said Slops, 
 [290] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 putting his finger over Dink s mouth. " Bundy 
 is snooping around. Mum s the word." 
 
 Presently, as Dink sat there in the darkness, 
 trying desperately to breathe noiselessly, the 
 sound of slipping footsteps was heard in the hall. 
 Slops hand closed over his. The steps stopped 
 directly outside their door, waited a long mo 
 ment and went on. 
 
 "Bundy?" said Dink in a whisper. 
 
 Yes." 
 
 "Why did he stop?" 
 
 " He s got me spotted. He s seen the nicotine 
 on my finger," said Slops, showing a finger un 
 der a sudden glow of his cigarette. 
 
 A half-hour later when Dink crept up the 
 stairs, homeward bound, he swelled with a new 
 sensation. Yesterday was months away; then 
 he was a boy, now that he had smoked up a cold- 
 air ventilator, with Bundy outwitted by the door, 
 he had aged with a jump he must be at last a 
 man. 
 
 The next week he added to his stature by go 
 ing to P. Lentz s room for a midnight session of 
 the national game, where, after a titanic strug 
 gle of three hours, he w r on the colossal sum of 
 forty-eight cents. 
 
 Having sunk to these depths he began to 
 listen to the Sunday sermons with a thrill of 
 personal delight there being not the slightest 
 [291] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 doubt that they were directly launched at him. 
 Sometimes he wondered how the Doctor and 
 The Roman could remain ignorant of the extent 
 of his debauches, his transgressions were so dar 
 ing and so complete. He stood shivering up the 
 Trenton road, under the shadow of an icy trunk, 
 of Sunday mornings, and met Blinky, the one- 
 eyed purveyor of illicit cigarettes and the for 
 bidden Sunday newspapers, which had to be 
 wrapped around his body and smuggled under 
 a sweater. 
 
 Secretly he rubbed iodine on his fingers to 
 simulate the vicious stain of nicotine that was 
 such a precious ornament to Slops squat fin 
 gers. Only one thing distressed him, and that 
 was his invincible dislike for the cigarette itself. 
 
 Being now a celebrity, many doors were 
 thrown invitingly open to him, invitations that 
 flattered him, without his making a distinction. 
 He went over to the Upper at times and into 
 rooms wnere he had no business, immensely 
 proud that he was called in to share the de 
 lights and liberties of the lords of the school. 
 
 At the Kennedy he was in constant rebellion 
 against established precedent, constantly called 
 below to be lectured by The Roman. In revenge 
 for which at night he made the life of Mr. Bundy 
 one of constant insomnia, and, by soaping the 
 stairs or strewing tacks in the hall, seriously in 
 [292] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 terfered with that inexperienced young gentle 
 man s nightly exercises. 
 
 The deeper he went the deeper he was deter 
 mined to go ; doggedly imagining that the whole 
 Faculty, led by The Roman, were bending every 
 effort to bring him down and convict him. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad had no inclinations to 
 ward sporting life greatly to Stover s surprise. 
 When Dink urged him to join the clandestine 
 parties he only yawned in a bored way. 
 
 " Come on now, Shad, be a sport," said Dink, 
 repeating the stock phrase. 
 
 " You re not sports," said the Tennessee Shad 
 in languid derision, "you re bluffs. Besides, 
 I ve been all through it, two years ago. Hurry 
 up with your dead-game sporting phase, if you ve 
 got to, but get through it; cause now you re 
 nothing but a nuisance." 
 
 Dink felt considerably grieved at his room 
 mate s flippant attitude toward his career of vice. 
 Secretly, he felt that a word of kindly remon 
 strance, some friendly effort to pull him back 
 from the frightful abyss into which he was sink 
 ing, would have been more like a friend and a 
 roommate. 
 
 This same callous indifference to the fate of 
 his roommate s soul so incensed Stover that, 
 to bring before the Shad s eyes the really des 
 perate state of his morals, he appointed a Welsh- 
 [293] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 rabbit party in their room for the following 
 night. 
 
 "Don t mind, do you?" he said carelessly. 
 
 "Not if I don t have to eat it! " 
 
 " It s going to be a real one," said Stover, 
 making a distinction." 
 
 " Come off ! " 
 
 " Fact. It is not going to be flavored with 
 rootbeer, toothwash, condensed milk or russet 
 polish; it is going to be the genuine, satisfac 
 tion guaranteed, or you get your money back." 
 
 "With beer?" 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 "Yes, it is!" 
 
 "It is." 
 
 "Where llyougetit?" 
 
 "I have ways." 
 
 " Oh," said the Tennessee Shad sarcastically, 
 "this is one of your real, sporting-life parties, 
 is it?" 
 
 Stover disdained to answer. 
 
 " Is that bunch of slums going to be here? " 
 
 "Are you referring to my friends?" said 
 Stover. 
 
 " I am," said the Tennessee Shad, " and all I 
 ask while this feast of bacchanalian orgies is 
 going on, is that I be allowed to sleep." 
 
 At eleven o clock Stover, holding his shoes in 
 his hand, went down the stairs to meet Slops in 
 [294] 
 
THE VAKMIJNT 
 
 Fatty Harris room, and thence into the outlawed 
 night. They stole over the crinkling snow, 
 burying their noses in their sweaters, until, hav 
 ing climbed several fences, they arrived behind 
 a shed of particularly cavernous appearance. 
 
 " Make the signal," said Slops, sheltering him 
 self behind Stover. 
 
 Blinky appeared like a monster of the night. 
 
 "Hist, Blinky, O. K.?" said Slops, who, hav 
 ing his shoulder to Dink s recovered his sporting 
 manner. "Got the booze?" 
 
 " I got it," said Blinky in husky accents, with 
 his hand behind his back. " What s youse got? " 
 
 "The cash is here all right. How many bots 
 did you bring? " 
 
 Blinky slowly brought forward one bottle. 
 
 "What, only one?" said Slops the bacchana 
 lian, in dismay. 
 
 " All s left," said Blinky, with a double mean 
 ing. 
 
 "How much?" 
 
 "One dollar." 
 
 "What! You robber!" 
 
 " Take it or leave it don t care," said Blinky, 
 who sat down and hugged the bottle to him like 
 a baby. 
 
 They paid the extortion and slunk back. 
 
 " We ll have to cook up a story," said Dink. 
 
 "Sure!" 
 
 [295] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Still, it s beer." 
 
 " It certainly is ! " 
 
 "It s expulsion if we re caught." 
 
 "And a penal offense, don t forget that!" 
 
 Somewhat consoled by this delightful thought 
 they cautiously tapped on Fatty Harris window 
 and, removing their boots, tiptoed upstairs like 
 anarchists with a price on their heads. 
 
 In Stover s room three more desperate char 
 acters were waiting about the chafing dish, 
 Fatty Harris, Slush Randolph and Pee-wee Nor- 
 ris, all determined on a life of crime but all 
 slightly nervous. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, rolled into a ball on his 
 bed, was venting his scorn with an occasional 
 snore. 
 
 Stover held up the lonely bottle. 
 
 "Is that all?" exclaimed the three in indig 
 nant whispers. 
 
 "All, and mighty lucky to get that," said 
 Dink valiantly. "We were chased by the con 
 stable, terrific time, pounced on us, desperate 
 struggle, just got away with our skins." 
 
 At this a distinct snort was heard from the 
 direction of the Tennessee Shad s bed. 
 
 "I say, isn t it rather rather dangerous?" 
 said Pee-wee Norris, with his ears horribly 
 strained. 
 
 "What of it?" 
 
 [296] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Suppose he goes to the Doctor?" 
 
 "We ll have to take the risk." 
 
 " I say, though, let s be quick about it." 
 
 An uncongenial chill began to pervade the 
 room. Fatty Harris, as master cook, visibly 
 hastened the operations. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad was now heard to say in 
 a mumbled jumble: 
 
 "Hurrah for crime! Never say die, boys 
 dead game sports give us a drink, bartender ! " 
 
 The revelers stood at the bed looking wrath- 
 fully down at the cynic, who snored heavily and 
 said drowsily: 
 
 " Talks in his sleep, he talks in his sleep, poor 
 old Pol!" 
 
 " Don t pay any attention to him," said Stover 
 angrily. "He s a cheap wit. What are you 
 doing at the door, Pee- wee? " 
 
 "I m listening," said Norris, turning guiltily. 
 
 "You re afraid!" 
 
 " I m not ; only let s hurry it up." 
 
 Fatty Harris, watching the swirling yellow 
 depths of the rabbit with evident anxiety, emp 
 tied a third of the beer into it and held out the 
 bottle, saying: 
 
 " Here, sports, fill up the glasses with the 
 good old liquor." 
 
 When the three glasses and two toothmugs 
 had received their exact portion of the bitter 
 [297] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 stuff, which had been allowed to foam copi 
 ously in order to eke out, the five desperadoes 
 solemnly touched glasses and Slops Barnett, 
 who had visited in Princeton, led them in that 
 whispered toast that is the acme of devilment : 
 
 " Then stand by your glasses steady, 
 
 This world is a world full of lies. 
 Then here s to the dead already dead, 
 And here s to the newt man who dies! " 
 
 It was terrific. Stover, quite moved, looked 
 about the circle, thought that Pee-wee looked the 
 nearest to the earthworm and repeated solemnly : 
 
 "To the next man who dies." 
 
 At this moment the Tennessee Shad was heard 
 derisively intoning: 
 
 "Ring around a rosie, 
 Pocket full of posie. 
 Oats, peas, beans and barley grows. 
 Open the ring and take her in 
 And kiss her when you get her in!" , 
 
 They paid no heed. They felt too acutely the 
 solemnity of life and the fleeting hour of pleasure 
 to be deterred by even the lathery aspect of their 
 own faces, which emerged from the suds of the 
 beer ready for the barber. 
 [298] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Dish out the bunny/ said Slops, putting 
 down his mug with a reckless look. 
 
 Suddenly there came an impressive knock and 
 the voice of Mr. Bundy saying: 
 
 "Open the door, Stover!" 
 
 In a thrice the revelry broke up, the telltale 
 bottle and glasses were stowed under the win 
 dow-seat, the visiting sporting gentlemen pre 
 cipitately groveled to places of concealment, 
 while Stover extinguished the lights and softly 
 stole into bed. 
 
 " Open the door at once ! " 
 
 "Who s there?" said Dink with a start, 
 
 " Open the door ! " 
 
 All sleepy innocence Dink opened the door, 
 rubbing his eyes at the sudden glow. 
 
 "Up after lights?" said Mr. Bundy, marching 
 in. 
 
 " I, sir? " said Dink, astounded. 
 
 All at once Mr. Bundy perceived the chafing- 
 dish and descended upon it. Stover s heart 
 sank if he tasted it they were lost; no power 
 could save them. Mr. Bundy turned and sur 
 veyed the room; one by one the terrified roues 
 were dragged forth and recognized, while the 
 Tennessee Shad sat on the edge of his bed, re 
 flectively sharpening his fingers on the pointed 
 knee-caps. 
 
 Then, to the horror of all, Mr. Bundy, sniffing 
 [299] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 the chafing-dish, inserted a spoon and tasted it. 
 Immediately he set the spoon down with a 
 crash, gave a furious glance at Stover and de 
 parted, after ordering them to their rooms. 
 
 The dead game sports, white and shaky, went 
 without stopping. 
 
 " They^re a fine sample of vicious bounders, 
 they are ! " said the Tennessee Shad. " Bet that 
 Slops Barnett is weeping to his pillow now!" 
 
 " I m sorry I got you into this," said Stover 
 gloomily. 
 
 " You ve brought my gray hairs in sorrow to 
 the grave ! " said the Tennessee Shad solemnly. 
 
 " Don t jest," said Dink in a still voice. " It s 
 all up with me, but I ll square you." 
 
 " Don t worry," said the Tennessee Shad, smil 
 ing. " I may not be a tin sport, but I keep my 
 thinker going all the time." 
 
 " Why, what do you mean? " 
 
 "I mean you ll get twigged for a midnight 
 spread, that s all." 
 
 " But the beer. Bundy tasted the beer." 
 
 " Taste it yourself," said the Tennessee Shad, 
 with a wave of his hand. 
 
 Stover hurriedly dipped in a spoon, tasted it 
 and uttered an execration. 
 
 " Murder, what did you put in it? " 
 
 "About half a bottle of horse liniment," said 
 the Tennessee Shad, crawling back into bed. 
 [300] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Only, don t tell the others if you want to see 
 how much dead game sportiness there is in them 
 by to-morrow morning." 
 
 The affair made a great noise and, as Stover 
 suppressed the transformation worked by the 
 Tennessee Shad, Slops Barnett and his com 
 panions did not exactly show those qualities of 
 Stoic resignation which might be expected from 
 brazen characters with their view of life. 
 
 Meanwhile, the skies cleared and the earth 
 hardened, and the air resounded with the cries 
 of baseball candidates. 
 
 Much to his surprise, Dink found at the end 
 of the strenuous day no impelling desire to 
 plunge into fast life. Still the conviction re 
 mained for a long time that his soul had been 
 surrendered, that not only was he destined for 
 the gallows in this world, but that only the 
 prayers of his mother might save him from being 
 irrevocably damned in the next. It was a ter 
 rific thought, and yet it brought a certain pleas 
 ure. He was different from the rest. He was 
 a man of the world. He had known LIFE! 
 
 The episode ended as episodes in the young 
 days end in a laugh. 
 
 "I say, Dink," said the Tennessee Shad one 
 afternoon in April, as, gloriously reveling on 
 the warm turf, they watched the Varsity nine. 
 
 " Say it." 
 
 [301] 
 
THE VAEMINT 
 
 "In your dead-game sporting days did you 
 ever, by chance, paint your nicotine fingers with 
 iodine?" 
 
 " How in blazes did you know ? " 
 
 " Used to do it myself," said the Shad reminis- 
 cently. Then he added : " Thought yourself a 
 lost soul?" 
 
 Stover began to laugh. 
 
 " All alone in a cold, cold world wicked, very 
 wicked? " 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 "And it was rather a nice feeling, too, wasn t 
 it? " 
 
 " I didn t know you " said Dink, blushing 
 
 to find himself back in the common herd. 
 
 " Me, too," said the Tennessee Shad, sucking 
 a straw. "Good old sporting days!" Pres 
 ently he began mischievously: 
 
 " Then stand ~by your glasses steady, 
 This world is a " 
 
 But here Dink, rising up, tumbled him over. 
 
 [302] 
 
XX 
 
 With the complete arrival of the spring came 
 also a lessening of Dink s requested appearances 
 at Faculty meetings, his little evening chats in 
 The Roman s study on matters of disciplinary 
 interpretation and the occasional summons 
 through the gates of Avernus to quail before the 
 all-seeing eye. 
 
 It was not that the spirit of Spartacus was 
 faint, or that his enmity had weakened toward 
 The Eoman who, of course, without the slight 
 est doubt, was always the persecutor responsible 
 for his summons before the courts of injustice. 
 The truth was, Stover had suddenly begun to 
 age and to desire to put from himself youthful 
 things. This extraordinary phenonenon that 
 somehow does happen was in some measure a 
 reflex action. 
 
 Ever since the stormy afternoon on which he 
 had decided against his own eleven, he had slowly 
 come to realize that he had won a peculiar place 
 in the estimation of the school somewhat of 
 the dignity of the incorruptible judges that ex 
 isted in former days. He became in a small way 
 & sort of court of arbitration before which ques- 
 [303] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 tions of more or less gravity were submitted. 
 This deference at first embarrassed, then amused, 
 then finally pleased him with an acute, mannish 
 pleasure. 
 
 The consequence was that Stover, who until 
 this time had only looked forward and up at 
 the majestic shadows of the fourth and fifth 
 formers, now looked backward and down, and 
 became pleasurably aware that leagues below him 
 was the large body of the first and second forms. 
 Having perceived this new adjustment he woke 
 with a start and, rubbing his eyes, took stock of 
 his amazing knowledge of life and again said 
 to himself that now, finally, he certainly must 
 have arrived at man s estate. 
 
 On top of which, having been asked to referee 
 several disputes in his character of Honest John 
 Stover, Dink, while holding himself in reserve 
 to direct operations on a dignified and colossal 
 scale against the Natural Enemy, decided that 
 it was unbecoming of a man of his position, age 
 and reputation, who had the entree of the Up 
 per House, to go skipping about the midnight 
 ways, in undignified costume, with such rank 
 shavers as Pebble Stone and Dennis de B. de B. 
 Finnegan. 
 
 So when Dennis arrived after lights, like a 
 will-o -the-wisp, with a whispered: 
 
 " I say, Dink, all ready." 
 [304] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover replied: 
 
 "All ready in bed." 
 
 " What," said Dennis aghast, "you re not with 
 us?" 
 
 No." 
 
 "Aren t you feeling well?" 
 
 " First rate." 
 
 " But I say, Dink, there s half a dozen of us. 
 We ve got all the laundry bags in the house 
 heaped up just outside of Beekstein s door and, 
 I say, we re going to pile em all up on top of 
 him and then jump on and pie him, and scoot 
 for our rooms before old Bundy can jump the 
 stairs and nab us. It ll be regular touch and 
 go a regular lark ! Come on ! " 
 
 A snore answered him. 
 
 "You won t come?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Are you mad at me?" 
 
 "No, I m sleepy!" 
 
 "Sleepy!" said Dennis in such amazement 
 that he no longer had any strength to argue, 
 and left the room convinced that Stover was 
 heroically concealing an agony of pain. 
 
 Stover immediately settled his tired body, sunk 
 his nose to the level of the covers and floated 
 blissfully off into the land of dreams. The next 
 night and the next it was the same. For a whole 
 month Dink slept, wasting not a one of the pre- 
 [305] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 cious moments of the night, sleeping through th v 
 slow-moving recitations, sleeping on the green 
 turf of afternoons, pillowed on Tough McCarty 
 or the Tennessee Shad, and watching others 
 scampering around the diamond in incompre 
 hensible activity; but the month was the month 
 of April and his years sixteen. In the first week 
 of May Stover awakened, the drowsiness dropped 
 from him and the spirit of perpetual motion 
 again returned. Still, the distance between him 
 self and his past remained. He had changed, 
 become graver, more laconic, moving with se- 
 dateness, like Garry Cockrell, whose tricks of 
 speech and gestures he imitated, holding him 
 self rather aloof from the populace, curiously 
 conscious that the change had come, and some 
 times looking back with profound melancholy 
 on the youth that had now passed irrevocably 
 away. 
 
 During this period of somewhat fragile self- 
 importance, the acquaintance with Tough Mc 
 Carty had strengthened into an eternal friend 
 ship in a manner that had a certain touch of 
 humor. 
 
 McCarty, after the close of the football season, 
 had repeatedly sought out his late antagonist, 
 but, though Dink at the bottom of his soul was 
 thrilled with the thought that here at last was 
 the friend of friends, the Damon to his Pythias, 
 [306] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 the chum who was to stand shoulder to his 
 shoulder, and so on, still there was too much 
 self-conscious pride in him to yield immediately 
 to this feeling. 
 
 McCarty perceived the reserve without quite 
 analyzing it, and was puzzled at the barriers 
 that still intervened. 
 
 During the winter, when Dink was resolutely 
 set in the pursuit of that beau-ideal, which had 
 a marked resemblance with a certain creation 
 of Bret Harte s, Mr. Jack Hamlin, "gentleman 
 sport," as Dennis would have called him, Mc 
 Carty found little opportunity for friendly inter 
 course. He disapproved of many of Dink s 
 friendships, not so much from a moralistic point 
 of view as from Stover s not exercising the 
 principle of selection. As this phase was in 
 tensified and Stover became the object of criti 
 cism of his classmates for hanging at the heels 
 of fifth-formers and neglecting his own territory, 
 McCarty resolved that the plain duty of a friend 
 required him to administer a moral lecture. 
 
 This heroic resolve threw him into confusion 
 for a week, for, in the first place, he had been 
 accustomed to receive rather than to give words 
 of warning and, in the second place, he w r as 
 fully aware of the difficulties of opening up the 
 subject at all. 
 
 After much anxious and gloomy cogitation he 
 [ 307 ] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 hit upon a novel plan and, approaching Stover 
 at the end of the last recitation, gave him a mys 
 terious wink. 
 
 "What s up?" said Dink instantly. 
 
 McCarty pulled him aside: 
 
 " I ve got a couple of A. No. 1 millionaire 
 cigars," he said in a whisper. "If you ve got 
 nothing better, why, come along." 
 
 "I m yours on the jump," said Dink, trying 
 to give to his words a joy which he was far from 
 feeling in his stomach. 
 
 " You smoke cigars? " 
 
 "Do I!" 
 
 " Come on, then ! " 
 
 It was the last day of March, which had gone 
 out like a lamb, leaving the ground still chill 
 and moist with the memory of departed snows. 
 They went down by the pond in the shelter of 
 the grove and McCarty proudly produced two 
 cigars coated with gilt foil. 
 
 " They look the real thing to me," said Dink, 
 eying the long projectiles with a rakish, profes 
 sional look. 
 
 Now, Dink had never smoked a cigar in his 
 life and was alarmed at the thought of the task 
 before him ; but he was resolved to die a linger 
 ing death rather than allow that humiliating 
 secret to be discovered. 
 
 "You bet they re the real thing," said Tough 
 [308] 
 
THE VAEMINT 
 
 McCarty, slipping off the foil. "Real, black 
 beauties ! Get the flavor? " 
 
 Dink approached the ominous black cigar to 
 his nose, sniffed it rapturously and cocked a 
 knowing eye. 
 
 "Aha!" 
 
 "Real Havanas!" 
 
 " They certainly smell good ! " 
 
 "Swiped em off my brother-in-law, forty-five 
 centers." 
 
 " I believe it. Say, what do you call em?" 
 
 " Invincibles." 
 
 The name threw a momentary chill over 
 Stover, but he instantly recovered. 
 
 " I say, we ought to have a couple of hatpins," 
 he said, turning the cigar in his fingers. 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " Smoke em to the last puff ! " 
 
 " We ll use our penknives." 
 
 " All right after you." 
 
 Stover cautiously drew in his first puff. To 
 his surprise nothing immediate happened. 
 
 "How is it?" said McCarty. 
 
 "Terrific!" 
 
 "Do you inhale?" 
 
 " Sometimes," said Stover, with an inconse 
 quential wave of his hand. 
 
 This gave McCarty his opening; besides, he 
 was deceived by Stover s complete manner. 
 [309] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Dink, I m afraid you re smoking too much," 
 lie said earnestly, puffing on his cigar. 
 
 "Oh, no," said Dink, immensely flattered 
 by this undeserved accusation from McCarty, 
 who smoked forty-five-cent cigars. 
 
 " Yes, you are. I know it. Trouble with you 
 is, old boy, you never do anything by halves. I 
 know you." 
 
 " Oh, well," said Stover loftily. 
 
 "You re smoking too much, and that s not all, 
 Dink. I I ve wanted to have a chance at 
 you for a long while, and now I m going for 
 you." 
 
 Hello " 
 
 "Now, look here, boy," said Tough McCarty, 
 filling the air with the blue smoke, " I m not a 
 mammy boy nor a goody-goody, and I don t like 
 preaching; but you ve got too much ahead of 
 you, old rooster, to go and throw it away." 
 
 "What do you mean?" said Dink, champing 
 furiously on his cigar, as he had seen several 
 stage villains do. 
 
 "I mean, old socks," said Tough, frowning 
 with his effort " I mean there are some fellows 
 here who are worth while and some who are not, 
 who won t do you any good, who don t amount 
 to a row of pins, and aren t up to you in any 
 way you look at it," 
 
 " Are you criticising my friends? " said Stover, 
 [310] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 who had just passed an even more unflattering 
 judgment, due to the Welsh-rabbit episode. 
 
 " I am/ said McCarty, passing his hand over 
 his forehead with difficulty. 
 
 Stover was just about to make an angry reply 
 when he looked at McCarty, who suddenly 
 leaned back against the tree. At the same mo 
 ment a feeling of insecurity overtook him. He 
 started again to make an angry answer and 
 then all pugnacious thoughts left him. He sat 
 down suddenly, his head swam on his shoulders 
 and about him the woods danced in drunken 
 reelings, sweeping grotesque boughs over him. 
 Only the earth felt good, the damp, muddy 
 earth, which he all at once convulsively em 
 braced. 
 
 Dink ! " 
 
 The sound was far off, weak and fraught with 
 mortal distress. 
 
 "Has it hit you, too?" 
 
 Dink s answer was a groan. He opened one 
 eye ; McCarty, prone at his side, lay on his stom 
 ach, burying his head in his arms. 
 
 At this moment a light patter sounded about 
 them. 
 
 " It s beginning to rain." 
 
 "I don t care!" 
 
 "Neither do I." 
 
 Stover lay clutching the earth, that somehow 
 [311] 
 
THE VAEMINT 
 
 wouldn t kept still, that moved under him, that 
 swayed and rose and fell. Then things began 
 to rush through his brain: armies of football- 
 clad warriors, The Roman whirling by on one 
 leg of his chair, Dennis de Brian de Boru Finne- 
 gan prancing impishly, sticking out his tongue 
 at him, whole flocks of Sunday preachers gestic 
 ulating in his direction, crowds of faces, legs, 
 arms, an old, yellow dog with a sausage in his 
 mouth < 
 
 Suddenly near him McCarty began to move. 
 
 " Where are you going? " he managed to say. 
 "For Heaven s sake, don t leave me." 
 
 "To the pond drink." 
 
 McCarty, on his hands and knees, began to 
 crawl. Stover raised himself up and staggered 
 after. The rain came down unheeded nothing 
 could add to his misery. They reached the pond 
 and drank long copious drinks, plunging their 
 dripping heads in the water. 
 
 Gradually the vertigo passed. Faint and weak 
 they sat propped up opposite each other, sol 
 emnly, sadly, glance to glance, while unnoticed 
 the rain spouted from the ends of their noses. 
 
 "Oh, Dink!" said Tough at last. 
 
 "Don t!" 
 
 " I thought I was going to die." 
 
 " I m not sure of it yet." 
 
 "I had a lot I wanted to say to you?" said 
 [313] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Tough painfully, feeling the opportunity was 
 slipping away. 
 
 "You said I was smoking too much/- said 
 Dink maliciously. 
 
 "Ugh! Don t no, that wasn t it." 
 
 "Shut up, old cockalorum," said Dink pleas 
 antly. " I know all you want to say found it 
 out myself it s all in one word swelled head ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " said Tough deprecatingly, now that 
 Dink had turned accuser. 
 
 " I ve been a little, fluffy ass ! " said Dink, 
 marvelously stimulated to repentance by the epi 
 sode which had gone before. " But that s over. 
 My head s subsiding." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 The two burst into sympathetic laughter. 
 
 " You you didn t mind my sailing into you, 
 old horse? " said Tough. 
 
 " Not now." 
 
 McCarty looked mystified. 
 
 " Tough," said Dink with a queer look, " if 
 you had smoked that black devil and I hadn t 
 all would have been over between us* As it 
 
 Jg 99 
 
 "Well?" said Tough. 
 
 " As it is Tough, here s my hand let s swear 
 an eternal friendship ! " 
 "Put it there!" 
 
 " I say, Tough " 
 
 [313] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Now, on your honor did you ever smoke a 
 cigar before?" 
 
 "Never," said McCarty. "And I ll never 
 smoke another. So help me." 
 
 "Nor I. I say, what was that name?" 
 
 " Invincibles." 
 
 " That s where we should have stopped ! " 
 
 " Dink, I begin to feel a little chilly." 
 
 " Tough, that s a good sign ; let s up." 
 
 Arm in arm, laughing uproariously, they went, 
 still a little shaky, back toward the school. 
 
 " I say, Tough," said Dink, throwing his arm 
 affectionately about the other s shoulders. " I ve 
 been pretty much of a jackass, haven t I?" 
 
 " Oh, come, now ! " 
 
 " I m afraid I m not built for a sport," said 
 Dink, with a lingering regret. "But I say, 
 Tough " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I may be the prodigal son, but you re the 
 devil of a moral lecturer, you are ! " 
 
 [314] 
 
XXI 
 
 One Wednesday afternoon, as Dink was loll 
 ing gorgeously on his window-seat, sniffing the 
 alert air and waiting for the moment to go skip- 
 ping over to the Varsity field for the game with 
 a visiting school, a voice from below hailed him : 
 
 "Oh, you, Rinky Dink!" 
 
 Stover languidly extended his head and be- 
 fold Tough McCarty. 
 
 " Hello there, Dink." 
 
 "Hello yourself." 
 
 "Come over to the Woodhull and meet my 
 family." 
 
 " What ! " said Dink in consternation. 
 
 " They re over for the game. Hurry up now 
 and help me out!" 
 
 Dink tried frantically to call him back, but 
 Tough, as though to shut off a refusal, disap 
 peared around the house. Dink returned to the 
 room in a rage. 
 
 "What s the matter?" said the Tennessee 
 Shad. 
 
 " I ve got to go over and meet a lot of women," 
 said Dink in disgust. "Confound Tough Me- 
 Carty! That s a rotten trick to play on me. 
 I ll wring his neck ! " 
 
 [315] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Go on now, make yourself beautiful ! " said 
 the Tennessee Shad, delighted. " Remember the 
 whole school will be watching you." 
 
 " Shut up ! " said Dink savagely, making the 
 grand toilet, which consisted in putting on a 
 high collar, exchanging his belt for a pair of 
 suspenders and donning a pair of patent- 
 leathers. " The place for women is at home! 
 It s an outrage ! " 
 
 He tied his necktie with a vicious lunge, ran 
 the comb once through the tangled hair, glanced 
 at his hands, decided that they would pass mus 
 ter, slapped on his hat and went out, kicking the 
 door open. 
 
 At the Woodhull, Tough hailed him from his 
 window. Dink went up, bored and rebellious. 
 The door opened, he found himself in Tough 
 McCarty s room in the vortex of a crowd of fel 
 low-sufferers. Over by the window-seat two fluffy 
 figures, with skirts and hats on, were seated. 
 He shook hands with both; one was Mrs. Me- 
 Carty, the other was the daughter, he wasn t 
 quite sure which. He said something about 
 the delight which the meeting afforded him, 
 and, gravitating into a corner, fell upon 
 Butsey White, with whom he gravely shook 
 hands. 
 
 "Isn t this awful? 5 said Butsey in a confi 
 dential whisper. 
 
 [316] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Frightful!" 
 
 "What the deuce s got into Tough?" 
 
 "It s a rotten trick!" 
 
 "Let s hook it." 
 
 { < All right. Slide toward the door." 
 
 But at this moment, when deliverance seemed 
 near, Tough bore down and, taking Stover by 
 the arm, drew him aside. 
 
 " I say, stick by me on this, old man," he said 
 desperately. " Take em to the game with me, 
 will you? " 
 
 " To the game ! " cried Dink in horror. " Oh, 
 Tough, come now, I say, I m no fusser. I m 
 tongue-tied and pigeon-toed. Oh, I say, old 
 man, do get some one else ! " 
 
 But as Tough McCarty kept a firm grip on the 
 lapel of his coat Dink suddenly found himself, 
 with the departure of the other guests, a help 
 less captive. The first painful scraps of conver 
 sation passed in a blur. Before he knew it he 
 was crossing the campus, actually walking, in 
 full view of the school, at the side of Miss Mc 
 Carty. 
 
 Her unconsciousness was paralyzing, per 
 fectly paralyzing! Dink, struggling for a word 
 in the vast desert of his brain, was overwhelmed 
 with the ease with which his companion ran on. 
 He stole a glance under the floating azure veil 
 and decided^ from the way the brilliant blue 
 
 [sir] 
 
THE VAKM1NT 
 
 parasol swung from her hand, that she must be 
 a woman of the world thirty, at least. 
 
 He extracted his hands precipitately from 
 the trousers pockets in which they had been 
 plunged and buttoned the last button of his 
 coat. Somehow, his hands seemed to wander 
 all over his anatomy, like jibs that had broken 
 loose. He tried to clasp them behind his back, 
 like the Doctor, or to insert one between the first 
 and second button of his coat, the character 
 istic pose of the great Corsican, according to 
 his history. For a moment he found relief by 
 slipping them, English fashion, into his coat 
 pockets; but at the thought of being detected 
 thus by the Tennessee Shad he withdrew them 
 as though he had struck a hornet s nest. 
 
 The school, meanwhile, had gamboled past, all 
 snickering, of course, at his predicament. In 
 this state of utter misery he arrived at last at 
 the field, where, to his amazement, quite a group 
 of Fifth-Formers came up and surrounded Miss 
 McCarty, chattering in the most bewildering 
 manner. Dink seized the opportunity to drop 
 back, draw a long sigh, reach madly behind for 
 his necktie, which had climbed perilously near 
 the edge of his collar, and shoot back his cuffs. 
 He saw the Tennessee Shad and Dennis de 
 Boru grinning at him from the crowd, and 
 showed them his fist with a threatening gesture. 
 [318] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Then the game began and he was seated by 
 Miss McCarty, unutterably relieved that the 
 tension of the contest had diverted the entire 
 attention of the school from his particular suf 
 ferings. 
 
 The excitement of the play for the first time 
 gave him an opportunity to study his compan 
 ion. His first estimate was undoubtedly cor 
 rect; she was plainly a woman of the world. 
 No one else could sit at such perfect ease, the 
 cynosure of so many eyes. Her dress was some 
 wonderful creation, from Paris, no doubt, that 
 rustled with an alluring sound and gave forth 
 a pleasant perfume. 
 
 The more he looked the more his eye approved. 
 She was quite unusual quite. She had style 
 a very impressive style. He had never before 
 remembered any one who held herself quite so 
 well, or whose head carried itself so regally. 
 There was something Spanish, too, about her 
 black hair and eyes and the flush of red in her 
 cheeks. 
 
 Having perceived all this Dink began to re 
 cover from his panic and, with a desire to wipe 
 out his past awkwardness, began busily to 
 search for some subject with which gracefully 
 to open up the conversation. 
 
 At that moment his eye fell upon his boot care 
 lessly displayed and, to his horror, beheld there 
 [319] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 a gaping crack. This discovery drove all desire 
 for conversation at once out of his head. By 
 a covert movement he drew the offending shoe 
 up under the shadow of the other. 
 
 "You hate this, don t you?" said a laughing 
 voice. 
 
 He turned, blushing, to find Miss McCarty s 
 dark eyes alive with amusement. 
 
 "Oh, now, I say, really " he began. 
 
 " Of course, you loathe being dragged out this 
 way," she said, cutting in. " Confess ! " 
 
 Dink began to laugh guiltily. 
 
 "That s better," said Miss McCarty appro^ 
 ingly. " Now we shall get on better." 
 
 " How did you know? " said Dink, immensely 
 mystified. 
 
 Miss McCarty wisely withheld this informa 
 tion, and before he knew it Dink was in the 
 midst of a conversation, all his embarrassment 
 forgot. The game ended it had never been 
 really important and Dink found himself, ac 
 tually to his regret, moving toward the 
 Lodge. 
 
 There, as he was saying good-by with a Ches- 
 terfieldian air, Tough plucked him by the sleeve. 
 
 "I say, Dink, old man," he said doubtfully, 
 " I d like you to come over and grub with us. 
 But I don t want to haul you over, you 
 
 know P 
 
 [320] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " My dear boy, I should love to! " said Dink, 
 squeezing his arm eagerly. 
 
 "Honest?" 
 
 "Straight goods!" 
 
 "Bully for you!" 
 
 He had three-quarters of an hour to dress 
 before dinner. He went to his room at a gallop, 
 upsetting Beekstein and Gumbo on his volcanic 
 way upward. Then for half an hour the Ken 
 nedy was thrown into a turmoil as the half- 
 clothed figure of Dink Stover flitted from room 
 to room, burrowed into closets, ransacked bu 
 reaus and departed, bearing off the choicest ar 
 ticles of wearing apparel. Meanwhile, the cor 
 ridors resounded with such unintelligible cries 
 as these : 
 
 " Who s got a collar, fourteen and a half? " 
 
 " Darn you, Dink, bring back my pants ! " 
 
 " Who swiped my blue coat ? " 
 
 "Who s been pulling my things to pieces?" 
 
 " Hi there, bring back my shoes ! " 
 
 " Dinged if he hasn t gone off with my cuff 
 buttons, too!" 
 
 " On you robber ! " 
 
 " Body snatcher! " 
 
 "Dink, the fusser!" 
 
 "Who d have believed it!" 
 
 Meanwhile, Dink, returning to his room laden 
 with the spoils of the house, proceeded to adorn 
 [321] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 himself on the principle of selection, discarding 
 the Gutter Pup s trousers for the gala breeches 
 of the Tennesse Shad, donning the braided cuta 
 way of Lovely Mead s in preference to an affair 
 of Slush Randolph s which was too tight in the 
 chest. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad, the Gutter Pup and Den 
 nis de Brian de Boru watched the proceedings, 
 brownie fashion, across the transom, volunteer 
 ing advice. 
 
 " Why, look at Dink wash! 
 
 " It s a regular annual, isn t it? " 
 
 "Look out for my pants!" 
 
 " I say, Dink, your theory s wrong. You want 
 to begin by parting your hair soak it into place, 
 you know." 
 
 Stover, struck by this expert advice, ap 
 proached the mirror and seized his comb and 
 brush with determination. But the liberties of 
 a rebellious people, unmolested for sixteen years, 
 were not to be suddenly abolished. The more he 
 brushed the more the indignant locks rose up in 
 revolt. He broke the comb and threw it down 
 angrily. 
 
 " Wet your hair," said the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 " Soak it in water," said the Gutter Pup. 
 
 "Soak it in witch-hazel," said Dennis. "It 
 Will make it more fragrant. 
 
 Dink hesitated: 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Won t it smell too much? " 
 
 " Naw. It evaporates." 
 
 Stover seized the bottle and inundated his 
 head, made an exact part in the middle and 
 drew the sides back in the fashion of pigeon 
 wings. 
 
 " Now clap on a dicer," said the Gutter Pup 
 approvingly, " and she ll come up and feed from 
 jour hand." 
 
 " Are you really in. love? " said Dennis softly. 
 
 Stover, ignoring all comments, tied a white 
 satin four-in-hand with forget-me-not emboss 
 ings, which had struck his fancy in Fatty Har 
 ris room, and inserted a stick-pin of Finne- 
 gan s. 
 
 "You ought to have a colored handkerchief 
 to stick in your breast pocket," said the Gutter 
 Pup, who began to yield to the excitement. 
 
 " Up his sleeve is more English, don t you 
 know," said Dennis. 
 
 Stover stood brazenly before the mirror, look 
 ing himself over. The scrubbing he had in 
 flicted on his face had left red, shining spots in 
 prominent places, while his hair, slicked back 
 and plastered down, gave him somewhat the 
 look of an Italian barber on a Sunday off. He 
 felt the general glistening effect without, in his 
 innocence, knowing the remedy. 
 
 * Dink, you are bee-oo-tiful ! " said Dennis. 
 [323] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Be careful how you sit down/ said the Ten 
 nessee Shad, thinking of the trousers. 
 
 " How are the shoes?" asked the Gutter Pup 
 solicitously. 
 
 "Tight as mischief," said Dink, with a wry 
 face. 
 
 "Walk on your heels." 
 
 Stover, with a last deprecating glance, opened 
 the door and departed, amid cheers from the con 
 tributing committee. 
 
 When he arrived at the Lodge the dusky wait 
 ress who opened the door started back, as he 
 dropped his hat, and sniffed the air. He went 
 into the parlor, spoiling his carefully-planned 
 entrance by tripping over the rug. 
 
 " Heavens ! " said Tough, " what a smell of 
 witch-hazel. Why, it s Dink. What have you 
 been doing?" 
 
 Stover felt the temperature rise to boiling. 
 
 "We had a bit of a shindy," he said desper 
 ately, trying to give it a tragic accent, " and I 
 bumped my head." 
 
 "Well, you look like a skinned rat," said 
 Tough to put him thoroughly at his ease. 
 
 The angel, however, came to his rescue with 
 solicitous inquiries and with such a heavenly 
 look that Stover only regretted that he could 
 not appear completely done up in bandages. 
 
 They went in to dinner, where Dink was so 
 [324] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 overwhelmed by the vision of Miss McCarty in 
 all her transcendent charms that the effort of 
 swallowing became a painful physical operation. 
 
 Afterward, Tough and his mother went over 
 to Foundation House for a visit with the Doc 
 tor, and Dink found himself actually alone, 
 escorting Miss McCarty about the grounds in 
 the favoring dusk of the fast-closing twilight. 
 
 " Let s go toward the Green House," she said. 
 "Will you take my cloak?" 
 
 The cloak settled the perplexing question of 
 the hands. He wondered uneasily why she 
 chose that particular direction. 
 
 "Are you sure you want to go there?" he 
 said. 
 
 " Quite," she said. " I want to ee the exact 
 spot where the historic fight took place." 
 
 .Stover moved uneasily. 
 
 "Dear me, what s the matter?" 
 
 " I never go there. I hate the place." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I was miserable there," said Dink abruptly. 
 "Hasn t Tough told you about it?" 
 
 " Tell me yourself," said the angelic voice. 
 
 Stover felt on the instant the most overpow 
 ering desire to confide his whole life s history, 
 and being under the influence of a genuine emo 
 tion as well as aided by the obliterating hour, he 
 began straight forward to relate the story of his 
 [325] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 months of Coventry in tense, direct sentences, 
 without pausing to calculate either their vivid 
 ness or their effect. Once started, he withheld 
 nothing, neither the agony of his pride nor the 
 utter hopelessness of that isolation. Once or 
 twice he hesitated, blurting out: 
 
 " I say, does this bore you ? " 
 
 And each time she answered quickly: 
 
 "No, no go on." 
 
 They went back in the fallen night to the 
 campus, and there he pointed out the spot where 
 he had stood and listened to the singing on the 
 Esplanade and made up his mind to return. 
 All at once, his story ended and he perceived, to 
 his utter confusion, that he had been pouring 
 out his heart to some one whose face he couldn t 
 see, some one who was probably smiling at his 
 impetuous confidence, some one whom he had 
 met only a few hours before. 
 
 " Oh, I say," he said in horror, " you must 
 think me an awful fool to go on like this." 
 
 "No." 
 
 "You made me tell you, you know," he said 
 miserably, wondering what she could think of 
 him. " I never talked like this before to any 
 one. I don t know what made me confide in 
 you." 
 
 This was untrue, for he knew perfectly well 
 what had led him to speak. So did she and, 
 [326] 
 
TH1U VAKMINT 
 
 knowing full well what was working in tne 
 tense, awkward boy beside her, she had no 
 feeling of offense, being at an age when .such 
 tributes, when genuine, are valued, not 
 scorned. 
 
 " I can just feel how you felt poor boy," she 
 said, perhaps not entirely innocent of the effect 
 of her words. "But then, you have won out, 
 haven t you? " 
 
 "I suppose I have," said Stover, almost suf 
 focated by the gentleness of her voice. 
 
 "Charlie s told me all about the rest," she 
 said. " Every one looks up to you now it s 
 quite a romance, isn t it? " 
 
 He was delighted that she saw it thus, secretly 
 wondering if she really knew every point that 
 could be urged in his favor. 
 
 " I suppose I ll kick myself all over the lot 
 to-morrow," he said, choosing to be lugubrious. 
 
 "Why?" she said, stopping in surprise. 
 
 "For talking as I ve done." 
 
 "You don t regret it?" she said softly, laying 
 her hand on his arm. 
 
 Stover drew a long breath a difficult one. 
 
 " No, you bet I don t," he said abruptly. " I d 
 tell you anything!" 
 
 "Come," she said, smiling to herself, "we 
 must go back but it s so fascinating here, 
 isn t it?" 
 
 [327] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 He thought he had offended her and was in 
 a panic. 
 
 "I say, you did not understand what I 
 meant." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I did." 
 
 "You re not offended?" 
 
 " Not at all." 
 
 This answer left Stover in such a state of be 
 wilderment that all speech expired. What did 
 she mean by that? Did she really understand 
 or not? 
 
 They walked a little way in silence, watching 
 the lights that fell in long lines across the 
 campus, hearing through the soft night the 
 tinkling of mandolins and the thrumfrning of 
 guitars, a vibrant, feverish life that suddenly 
 seemed unreal to him. They were fast ap 
 proaching the Lodge. A sudden fear came to 
 him that she would go without understanding 
 what the one, the only night had been in his 
 life. 
 
 " I say, Miss McCarty," he began desperately. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "I wish I could tell you " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I wish I could tell you just what a privilege 
 it s been to meet you." 
 
 " Oh, that s very nice." 
 [328] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 He felt he had failed. He had not expressed 
 himself well. She did not understand. 
 
 " I shall never forget it," he said, plunging 
 ahead. 
 
 She stopped a little guiltily and looked at 
 him. 
 
 "You queer boy," she said, too pleasantly 
 moved to be severe. " You queer, romantic 
 boy! Why, of course you re going to visit us 
 this summer, and we re going to be good chums, 
 aren t we?" 
 
 He did not answer. 
 
 "Aren t we? " she repeated, amused at a situa 
 tion that was not entirely strange. 
 
 " No I " he said abruptly, amazed at his own 
 audacity; and with an impulse that he had not 
 suspected he closed the conversation and led the 
 way to the Lodge. 
 
 When at last he and Tough were homeward 
 bound he felt he should die if he did not then 
 and there learn certain things. So he began 
 with Machiavellian adroitness: 
 
 " I say, Tough, what a splendid mother you ve 
 got. I didn t get half a chance to talk to her. 
 I say, how long will she be here?" 
 
 "They re going over to Princeton first thing 
 in the morning," said Tough, who was secretly 
 relieved. 
 
 [329] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 A button on the borrowed vest popped with 
 Stover s emotion. 
 
 " How did you get on with Sis? " 
 
 "First rate. She s she s awful sensible," 
 said Dink. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I suppose so. 9 
 
 "I say," said Dink, seeing that he made no 
 progress, "she s been all around had lots of 
 experience, hasn t she? " 
 
 " Oh, she s bounded about a bit." 
 
 "Still, she doesn t seem much older than 
 you," said Dink craftily. 
 
 " Sis oh, she s a bit older." 
 
 "About twenty-two, I should say," said Dink 
 hopefully. 
 
 " Twenty-four, my boy," said Tough unfeel 
 ingly. " But I say, don t give it away ; she d 
 bite and scratch me all over the map for telling." 
 
 Stover left him without daring to ask any 
 more questions he knew what he wanted to 
 know. He could not go to his room, he could 
 not face the Tennessee Shad, possessor of the 
 trousers. He wanted to be alone to wander 
 over the unseen earth, to gulp in the gentle air 
 in long, feverish breaths, to think over what she 
 had said, to grow hot and cold at the thought of 
 hk daring, to reconstruct the world of yesterday 
 and organize the new. 
 
 He went to the back of chapel and sat down 
 [330] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 on the cool steps, under the impenetrable clouds 
 of the night. 
 
 " She s twenty-four, only twenty-four," he said 
 to himself. "I m sixteen, almost seventeen 
 that s only seven years difference." 
 
 [331] 
 
XXII 
 
 When Stover awoke the next morning it 
 was to the light of the blushing day. He 
 thought of the events of the night before and 
 sprang up in horror. What had he been think 
 ing of? He had made an ass of himself, a com 
 plete, egregious ass. What had possessed him? 
 He looked at himself in the glass and his heart 
 sunk at the thought of what she must be think 
 ing. He was glad she was going. He did not 
 want to see her again. He would never visit 
 Tough McCarty. Thank Heaven it was day 
 light again and he had recovered his senses. 
 
 Indignant at every one, himself most of all, 
 he went to chapel and to recitations, profoundly 
 thankful that he would not have to face her 
 in the mocking light of the day. That he never 
 could have done, never, never! 
 
 As he left second recitation Tough McCarty 
 joined him. 
 
 " I say, Dink, they both wanted to be remem 
 bered to you, and here s a note from Sis." 
 
 "A note?" 
 
 "Here it is." 
 
 Stover stood staring at a violet envelope, in* 
 [332] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 scribed in large, flowing letters: "Mr. John H. 
 Stover." 
 
 Then he put it in his pocket hastily and went 
 to his room. Luckily the Tennessee Shad was 
 poaching in the village. He locked the door, 
 secured the transom and drew out the note. It 
 was sealed with a crest and perfumed with a 
 heavenly scent. He held it in his hand a long 
 while, convulsively, and then broke the seal with 
 an awkward finger and read : 
 
 Dear Mr. Stover: Just a word to thank you 
 for being my faithful cavalier. Don t forget 
 that you are to pay us a good, long visit this 
 summer, and that we are to become the best of 
 chums. 
 
 Your very good friend, 
 
 JOSEPHINE MCCARTY. 
 
 P. S. Don t dare to "kick yourself about 
 the place," whatever that may mean. 
 
 -When Dink had read this through once he 
 immediately began it again. The second read 
 ing left him more bewildered than ever. It was 
 the first time he had come in contact with a 
 manifestation of the workings of the feminine 
 mind. What did she intend him to understand? 
 " I ll read it again," he said, perching on the 
 back of a chair. " Dear Mr. Stover ! " He 
 [333] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 stopped and! considered. " My dear Mr. Stover- 
 Dear Mr. Stover well, that s all right. But 
 what the deuce does she mean by faithful cava 
 lier I wonder now, I wonder. She wants ma 
 to visit her she can t be offended then. * Your 
 very good friend, underlined twice, that sounds 
 as though she wanted to warn me. Undoubtedly 
 I made a fool of myself and this is her angelic 
 way of letting me down. Friend under 
 lined twice of course that s it. What a bloom 
 ing, sentimental, moon-struck jay I was. Gee, 
 I could kick myself to Jericho and back ! " But 
 here his eye fell on the postscript and his jaw 
 dropped. " Now how did she guess that? That 
 sounds different from the rest, as though as 
 though she understood." 
 
 He went to the window frowning, and then 
 to the mirror, with a new interest in this new 
 Mr. John H. Stover who received perplexing 
 notes on scented paper. 
 
 " I must get some decent collars," he said 
 pensively. " How the deuce does Lovely Mead 
 keep his tie tight mine s always slipping downj, 
 showing the stud." He changed his collar, hav 
 ing detected a smirch, and tried the effect of 
 parting his hair on the side, like Garry Cockrell. 
 
 " She s a wonderful woman wonderful," he 
 said softly, taking up the letter again. "What 
 eyes ! Eeminds me of Lorna Doone. Josephine 
 [334] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 so that s her name, Josephine it s a beautiful 
 name. I wish the deuce I knew just what she 
 did mean by this ! " 
 
 By nightfall he had written a dozen answers 
 which had been torn up in a panic as soon as 
 written. Finally, he determined that the craf 
 tiest way would be to send her his remembrances 
 by Tough that would express everything as 
 well as show her that he could be both discreet 
 and dignified. 
 
 In the afternoon he added a dozen extra high 
 collars to his wardrobe and examined hesitat 
 ingly the counter of Gent s Bon-Ton socks, 
 spring styles, displayed at Bill Appleby s. 
 
 The collars, the latest cut, he tried on sur 
 reptitiously. They were uncomfortable and pro 
 jected into his chin, but there was no question 
 of the superior effect. Suddenly a new element 
 in the school came to his notice fellows like 
 Lovely Mead, Jock Hasbrouk and Dudy Rankin, 
 who wore tailor-made clothes, rainbow cravats, 
 who always looked immaculate and whose trou 
 sers never bagged at the knees. 
 
 No sooner was this borne in upon him than 
 lie was appalled at the state of his wardrobe. 
 He had outgrown everything. Everything he 
 had bagged at the elbows as well as the knees. 
 His neckties were frazzeled and his socks were 
 all earthy-browns and oat-meal grays. 
 [335] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 His first step was to buy a blacking brush and 
 his next to press his trousers under his mattress, 
 with the result that, being detected and diverted 
 by Dennis, they appeared next morning with a 
 cross-gartered effect. 
 
 At nights, especially moonlight nights, under 
 pretense of insomnia, he drew his bed to the 
 open window and gazed sentimentally into the 
 suddenly discovered starry system. 
 
 "What the deuce are you mooning about?" 
 said the Tennessee Shad on the first occasion. 
 
 " Fm studying astronomy," said Dink with 
 dignity. 
 
 The Tennessee Shad gave a snort and soon 
 went loudly off to sleep. 
 
 Dink, unmolested, soared away into his own 
 domain. It is true that, having read Peter Ib- 
 betson, he tried for a week to emulate that fa 
 vored dreamer, throwing his arms up, clasping 
 his hands behind his head and being most parti 
 cular in the crossing of the feet. He dreamed, 
 but only discouraging, tantalizing dreams, and 
 the figure his magic summoned up was not the 
 angelic one, but invariably the elfish eyes and 
 star-pointing nose of Dennis de Brian de Boru 
 Finnegan. 
 
 But the dreams that lay like shadows between 
 the faltering eyelids and the shut were real and 
 magic. Then all the difficulties were swept 
 [336] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Away, no cold chill ran up his back to stay the 
 words that rushed to his lips. Conversations 
 to defy the novelist were spun out and, having 
 periodically saved her from a hundred malig 
 nant deaths, he continued each night anew the 
 heroic work of rescue with unsatiated delight. 
 At times, in the throbs of the sacred passion, 
 he thought with a start of his blackened past 
 and the tendencies to crime within him. 
 
 "Lord!" he said with a gasp, thinking of the 
 orgy in beer, " what would have become of me 
 it s like an act of Providence. I wish I could 
 let her know what a what a good influence 
 she s been. I don t know what I d a done 
 if I hadn t met her! I was in a dreadful 
 way ! " 
 
 By this time, having had the advantage of 
 countless midnight walks, not to mention the 
 familiarizing effect of several scores of desperate 
 adventures, the character of Miss Lorna Doone 
 McCarty had been completely unfolded to the 
 reverential Dink. He saw her, he conversed 
 with her, he knew her. She was a sort of heav 
 enly being, misunderstood by her family espe 
 cially her brother, who had not the slightest com 
 prehension. She was like Dante s Beatrice, as 
 the pictures, not the dreadful text, represent 
 that lady and only seven years older than Mr. 
 John H. Stover. There was Napoleon, who had 
 [337] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 married a woman older than he was Napoleon 
 and hosts of others. 
 
 With the sudden fear of being dropped a year 
 he began to study with such assiduity that, as 
 is the way with newly-sprouted virtue in a cyni 
 cal world, his motives were suspected by the 
 masters, who, of course, could know nothing of 
 the divine transformation, and by his classmates, 
 who secretly credited him with some new 
 method of cribbing. 
 
 Meanwhile, as the year neared its close, the 
 inventive minds of Dennis de Brian de Boru 
 Finnegan and the Tennessee Shad conceived the 
 idea of a monster mass meeting and illustrative 
 parade, which should down the hereditary foe 
 the steam laundry. 
 
 Up to this time the columns of The Lawrence 
 had been flooded with communications couched 
 in the style of the oration against Catiline, de 
 manding to know how long the supine Lawrence- 
 ville boy would bear in silence the return of his 
 shirt with added entrances and exits, and col 
 lars that enclosed the neck with a cheval-de- 
 frise. 
 
 This verbal, annual outbreak was succeeded, 
 as usual, by House to House mutinies on the 
 occasion of the arrival of the weekly boxes, with 
 out the protest taking further head or front. 
 But at the opening of the last week of the school 
 year, whether a machine had suddenly jumped 
 [338] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 its fences or whether the ladies of the washtubs 
 desired to open the way for the new summer 
 styles; however it may have been, the laundry 
 returned like the battle flags of the republic to 
 the outraged school. Windows were flung open 
 and indignant boys appeared, with white shreds 
 in hand, and vociferously appealed to the heav 
 ens above and the green lands below r for justice 
 and indemnification. 
 
 A meeting of determined spirits was speedily 
 held under the leadership of the Tennessee Shad 
 and Doc Macnooder, and it was decided that a 
 demonstration should take place instanter, the 
 Houses to form and march with complete ex 
 hibits to the Upper House, where the fifth-for 
 mers should likewise display their grievances 
 and join them in a mammoth protest. 
 
 Dink, at the first sounds of martial organiza 
 tion, pricked up his ears and summoned the Ten 
 nessee Shad and Dennis de Brian de Boru Fin- 
 negan to explain why he had been left out of 
 such an important enterprise. 
 
 "Why have we left you out?" said the Ten 
 nessee Shad indignantly. " What s happened to 
 you these last three weeks? You ve had a fight 
 ing grouch no one dared to speak to you for 
 fear of being bitten! " 
 
 " In fact," said Dennis, with his sharp, little 
 glance, "you are under the gravest suspi 
 cion." 
 
 [339] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Seeing his secret in peril, Stover assumed a 
 melancholy, injured air. 
 
 " You don t know what I ve had to worry me," 
 he said, looking out the window, "family mat 
 ters financial reverses." 
 
 "Oh, I say, Dink, old boy," said the Tennes 
 see Shad, in instant contrition. 
 
 " You don t mean it s anything that might 
 keep you from coming back next year? " said 
 Dennis, aghast. "Oh, Dink!" 
 
 "I had rather not talk about it," said Stover 
 solemnly. 
 
 Dennis and the Shad were overwhelmed with 
 remorse they offered him at once the Grand 
 Marshalship, which he refused with still of 
 fended dignity, but promised his fertile brain to 
 the common cause. 
 
 Now Dink s sentimental education, which had 
 progressed with a rush, had just begun to lan 
 guish on insufficiency of food and a little feel 
 ing of staleness on having exhausted the one 
 thousand and one possible methods of saving a 
 heroine s life and wringing the consent of her 
 parents. 
 
 He felt a species of guilt in the accusation 
 of his roommate and a sudden longing to be back 
 among mannish pursuits. In an hour, with de 
 lighted energy, he had organized the banner and 
 effigy committees of the demonstration and had 
 [340] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 helped concoct the fiery speech of protest that 
 Doc Macnooder, as spokesman, was solemnly 
 pledged to deliver for the embattled school. 
 
 Four hours later the Kennedy House, led by 
 Toots Cortell and his famous Confederate bugle, 
 defiled and formed the head of the procession. 
 Each member carried a pole attached to which 
 was some article that had been wholly or partly 
 shot to pieces. The Dickinson contingent, led 
 by Doc Macnooder, marched in a square, sup 
 porting four posts around which ran a clothes 
 line decked out with the dreadful debris of the 
 house laundry. 
 
 The Woodhull proudly bore as its battle flag 
 a few strings of linen floating from a rake, with 
 this inscription underneath: 
 
 THE GRAND OLD SHIRT OF THE WOODHULL! 
 WASHED 16 TIMES AND STILL IN THE GAME! 
 
 Several poles, adorned with single hosing in 
 the fashion of liberty caps, were labeled: 
 
 WHERE is MY WANDERING SOCK TO-NIGHT? 
 
 The Davis House was headed by Moses 
 Moseby in a tattered nightshirt, backed up by 
 an irreverent placard: 
 
 HOLY MOSES! 
 [341] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 But the premier exhibit of the parade was 
 admitted by all to be the Kennedy float, con 
 ceived and executed by the Honorable Dink 
 Stover. 
 
 On a platform carried by eight hilarious mem 
 bers, was displayed Dennis de Brian de Boru 
 Finnegan, clothed in a suit of dark gymnasium 
 tights, over which were superimposed a mangled 
 set of upper and lower unmentionables, whose 
 rents and cavities stood admirably out against 
 the dark background, while the Irishman sat on 
 a chair and alternately stuck a white foot 
 through the bottomless socks that were fed 
 him. 
 
 Above the platform was the flaring ensign: 
 
 BATHER FRANK NUDITY THAN THIS! 
 
 Now it happened that at the auspicious mo 
 ment when Dink Stover led the apparently 
 scantily-clothed Finnegan and the procession of 
 immodest banners around to the Esplanade of 
 the Upper, the Doctor suddenly appeared 
 through the shrubbery that screens Foundation 
 House from the rest of the cannpus, with a party 
 of ladies, relatives, as it unfortunately happened, 
 of one of the trustees of the school. 
 
 One glance of horror and indignation was 
 sufficient for him to wave back the more modest 
 [342] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 sex and to advance on the astounding procession 
 with fury and determination. 
 
 Before Jove s awful look the spirit of 76 van 
 ished. There was a cry of warning and the 
 hosts hesitated, shivered and scampered for 
 shelter. 
 
 Now, at any other time the Doctor who suf 
 fered, too, from the common blight would have 
 secretly if not openly enjoyed the joke; but at 
 that moment the circumstances were admittedly 
 trying. Besides, there was the delicate explana 
 tion to be offered to the ladies, who were rela 
 tives of one of the influential members of the 
 board of trustees of the Lawrenceville School, 
 John C. Green Foundation. As a consequence, 
 in a towering rage, he summoned the ringleaders, 
 chief among whom he had recognized Dink Sto 
 ver and, corraling them in his study that night, 
 exposed to them the enormity of their offense 
 against the sex of their mothers and sisters, com 
 mon decency, morals and morality, the ideals 
 of the school, and the hope that the Nation had 
 a right to place in a body of young men nur 
 tured in such homes and educated at such an in 
 stitution. 
 
 The ringleaders, being veterans, viewed the 
 speech from the point of view of artists, and 
 were unanimous in their appreciation. The epi 
 sode had for Stover, however, unfortunate com- 
 [343] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 plications. With the closing of the scholastic 
 season came the elections in the Houses. The 
 Kennedy House, unanimously and with much 
 enthusiasm, chose the Honorable Honest John 
 Stover to succeed the Honorable King Lentz as 
 administrator and benevolent despot for the en 
 suing year. 
 
 This election, coming as it did as a complete 
 surprise to Stover, was naturally a source of 
 deep gratification. His enjoyment, however^ 
 was rudely shocked when, the next morning 
 after chapel, the Doctor stopped him and said : 
 
 "Stover, I am considerably surprised at the 
 choice of the Kennedy House and I am not at 
 all sure that I shall ratify it. Nothing in your 
 career has indicated to me your fitness for such 
 a place of responsibility. I shall have a further- 
 talk with Mr. Hopkins and let him know my de 
 cision." 
 
 The Roman! Of course it was The Roman! 
 Of course he had been raging at the thought of 
 his elevation to the presidency! JMnk, forget 
 ting the hundred and one times he had met the 
 Faculty in the Monday afternoon deliberations, 
 rushed out to spread the news of The Roman s 
 vindictive persecution. Every one was indig 
 nant, outraged at this crowning insult to a free 
 electorate. The whole House would protest en 
 masse if the despot s veto was exercised. 
 [344] 
 
NOTHING IN YOUR CAREER HAS INDICATED TO ME 
 YOUR FITNESS FOR SUCH A PLACE 
 
 OF RESPONSIBILITY" 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 At the hour of these angry threats The Roman, 
 persecutor of Dink, was actually saying to the 
 tyrant: 
 
 " Doctor, I think it would be the best thing 
 the very best. It will bring out the manli 
 ness, the serious earnestness that is in the 
 boy." 
 
 "What, you say that!" said the Doctor, a 
 little impatiently, for it was only the morrow 
 of the parade. " I should think your patience 
 would be exhausted. The scamp has been in 
 more mischief than any other boy in the school. 
 He s incorrigibly wild! " 
 
 "No no. I shouldn t say that. Very high 
 spirited excess of energy too much imagina 
 tion that s all. There s nothing vicious about 
 the boy." 
 
 "But as president, Hopkins, not as presi 
 dent!" 
 
 " No one better," said The Roman firmly. 
 "The boy is bound to lead. I know what s in 
 him he will rise to his responsibility. Doctor, 
 you will see. I have never lost confidence in 
 him." 
 
 The Doctor, unconvinced, debated at length 
 before acceding. When he finally gave his rati 
 fication he added with a smile: 
 
 "Well, Hopkins, I do this on your judgment. 
 You may be right, we shall see. By the way, 
 [345] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Stover must have led you quite a dance over in 
 the Kennedy. What is it you like in him? " 
 
 The Roman reflected and then, his eye twitch 
 ing reminiscently : 
 
 " Fearlessness," he said, " and and a diaboli 
 cal imagination." 
 
 When The Roman returned to the Kennedy he 
 summoned Stover to his study. He knew that 
 Dink misunderstood his attitude and he would 
 have liked to enlighten him. Unfortunately, 
 complete confidence in such cases is sometimes 
 as embarrassing as the relations between father 
 and son. The Roman, pondering, twisted a 
 paper-cutter and frowned in front of him, 
 
 " Stover," he said at last. " I have talked 
 with the Doctor. He has seen best to approve 
 of your election." 
 
 Dink, of course, perceiving the hesitation, 
 went out gleefully, persuaded that the decision 
 was gall and wormwood to his inveterate foe. 
 
 The last day of school ended. He drove to 
 Trenton in a buggy with Tough McCarty as 
 befitted his new dignity. He passed the Green 
 House with a strange thrill. The humiliation 
 of a year before had well been atoned, and yet 
 the associations somehow still had power to rise 
 up and wound him. 
 
 " Lord, you ve changed ! " said Tough, follow 
 ing his thoughts. 
 
 [346] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " Improved ! " said Dink grimly. 
 
 " I was an infernal nuisance myself when 1 
 landed, 7 said Tough, President of the Woodhull, 
 evasively. " I say, Dink, next year we ll be lick 
 ing the cubs into shape ourselves." 
 
 "That s so," said Stover. "Well, by this 
 time next year I probably won t be so popular. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I m going to put an end to a lot of nonsense," 
 said Dink solemnly. "I m going to see that 
 my kids walk a chalk-line." 
 
 " So am I," said McCarty, with equal pater 
 nity. " What a shame we can t room together, 
 old boy!" 
 
 " That ll come in the Upper, and afterward ! " 
 
 They drove sedately, amid the whirling masses 
 of the school that went hilariously past them. 
 They were no longer of the irresponsible; the 
 cares of the state were descending on their 
 shoulders and a certain respect was neces 
 sary; 
 
 " Good-by, old Sockbuts," said Tough, depart 
 ing toward New York. " Good-by, old geezer ! " 
 
 "Au revoir." 
 
 " Mind now fifteenth of July and you come 
 for one month." 
 
 "You bet I will!" 
 
 " Take care of yourself!" 
 
 " I say, Tough," said Dink, with his heart in 
 [347j 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 his mouth. McCarty, laden with valises, 
 stopped : 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Remember me to your mother, will you? " 
 
 " Oh, sure." 
 
 " And and to all the rest of the family ! " 
 said Dink, who thereupon bolted, panic-stricken. 
 
 L348] 
 
XXIII 
 
 When John Stover, President of the Kennedy 
 House, arrived at the opening of the new scho 
 lastic year, he arrived magnificently in a special 
 buggy, his changed personal appearance spread 
 ing wonder and incredulity before him. He was 
 stylishly encased in a suit of tan whipcord, with 
 creases down his trousers front that cut the air 
 like the prow of a ship. On his head, rakishly 
 set, was a Panama hat, over his arm was a natty 
 raincoat and he wore gloves. 
 
 " Who is it? " said the Tennessee Shad faintly. 
 
 " It s the gas inspector," said Dennis de Brian 
 de Boru, who, though now long of trousers, con 
 tinued short of respect. 
 
 " Goodness gracious," said the Tennessee 
 Shad, " can it be the little Dink who came to us 
 from the Green House?" 
 
 Stover approached serenely and shook hands. 
 
 " Heavens, .Dink," said the Gutter Pup, " what 
 has happened? Have you gone into the cloth 
 ing business?" 
 
 "Like my jibs?" said Stover, throwing back 
 Ms coat. "Catch this!" 
 
 The front rank went over like so many nine 
 pins. Stover, pleased with the effect, waved his 
 [349] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 hand and disappeared to pay his militant re 
 spects to The Roman who led him to the light 
 and looked him over with unconcealed amaze 
 ment 
 
 When Dink had gone to his old room the Ten 
 nessee Shad, the Gutter Pup and Dennis de 
 Brian de Boru Finnegan were already awaiting 
 him, with heads critically slanted. 
 
 " Tell us the worst," said the Gutter Pup. 
 
 " Are you married? " said the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 "Let s see her photograph," said Dennis de 
 Brian de Boru Finnegan. 
 
 Now, Stover had foreseen the greeting and 
 the question and had come prepared. He opened 
 his valise and, taking out a case, arranged a 
 dozen photographs on his bureau, artfully con 
 cealing the one and only in a temporarily sub 
 ordinate position. 
 
 The three village loungers arose and stationed 
 themselves in front of the portrait gallery. 
 
 " Why, he must be perfectly irresistible ! " said 
 the Gutter Pup. 
 
 "Dink," said Dennis, "do all these girls love 
 you?" 
 
 Stover, disdaining a reply, selected another 
 case. 
 
 " Razors ! " said the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 "What for?" said Dennis. 
 
 "Oh, I shave, too," said the Gutter Pup, in 
 [350] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 whom the spirit of envy was beginning to 
 work. 
 
 " And now, boys," said Stover briskly, taking 
 off his coat, folding it carefully over a chair and 
 beginning to unpack, " sit down. Don t act like 
 a lot of hayseeds on a rail, but tell me what the 
 Freshmen are like." 
 
 The manner was complete convincing, with 
 out a trace of embarrassment. The three wits 
 exchanged foolish glances and sat down. 
 
 "What do you weigh?" said the Gutter Pup 
 faintly. 
 
 "One hundred and fifty-five, and I ve grown 
 an inch," said Stover, ranging on a ring a score 
 of flashy neckties. 
 
 " I wish Lovely Mead could see those," said 
 the Gutter Pup with a last appearance of levity. 
 
 "Call him up. Look at them yourself," said 
 Stover, tendering the neckwear. " I think 
 they re rather tasty myself." 
 
 Before such absolute serenity frivolity died of 
 starvation. They made no further attempt at 
 sarcasm, but sat awed until Stover had departed 
 to carry the glad news of his increased weight 
 to Captain Flash Condit. 
 
 "Why he s older than The Roman," said the 
 Tennessee Shad, the first to recover. 
 
 " He s in love," said Dennis, who had intui 
 tions. 
 
 [351] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "No, be-loved," said the Gutter Pup with a 
 sigh, who was suffering from the first case, but 
 not from the second. 
 
 The amazement of rolling, old Sir John Fal- 
 staff at the transformation of Prince Hal was 
 nothing to the consternation of the Kennedy 
 House at the sudden conversion of Dink Stover, 
 the fount of mischief, into a complete disciplin 
 arian. 
 
 Now the cardinal principle of House govern 
 ment is the division of the flock by the establish 
 ing of an age line. The control of the young 
 sters is almost always vigorously enforced, and 
 though the logical principles involved are some 
 times rather dubious they are adequate from the 
 fact that they are never open to argument. Oc 
 casionally, however, under the leadership of 
 some president either too indolent or incapable 
 of leadership, this strict surveillance over the 
 habits and conduct of youth is relaxed, with 
 disastrous results to the orderly reputation of 
 the House. 
 
 Stover, having been the arch rebel and fomen- 
 ter of mischief, had the most determined ideas 
 as to the discipline he intended to enforce and 
 the respect he should exact. 
 
 The first clash came with the initial House 
 
 Meeting, over which he presided. Now in the 
 
 past these occasions had offered Dennis de Brian 
 
 de Boru Finnegan and his attendant imps un- 
 
 [352] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 limited amusement, as King Lentz had been al 
 most totally ignorant of the laws of parliament 
 ary procedure. 
 
 Of a consequence, no sooner was a meeting 
 fairly under way, than some young scamp would 
 rise and solemnly move the previous question, 
 which never failed to bring down a storm of 
 hoots at the complete mystification of the per 
 plexed chairman, who never to his last day was 
 able to solve this knotty point of procedure. 
 
 Now, Dennis, while he had been impressed 
 by Stover s new majesty, retained still a feeling 
 of resistance. So the moment the gavel de 
 clared the meeting open he bobbed up with a 
 wicked gleam and shrilly announced: 
 
 "Mr. Chairman, I move the previous ques 
 tion." 
 
 "Mr. Finnegan will come to order," said 
 Stover quietly. 
 
 "Oh, I say, Dink!" 
 
 "Are you addressing the chair?" said Stover 
 sternly. 
 
 " Oh, no," said Finnegan, according to his 
 usual manner, " I was just whistling through my 
 teeth, gargling my larynx, trilling " 
 
 Crash came the gavel and the law spoke 
 forth : 
 
 "Mr. Finnegan will come to order? 79 
 
 "I won t!" 
 
 " Mr. Finnegan either apologizes to the chair, 
 [353] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 or the chair will see that Mr. Finnegan returns 
 to short trousers and stays there. Mr. Finne 
 gan has exactly one minute to make up has 
 mind." 
 
 Dennis, crimson and gasping, stood more 
 thoroughly amazed and nonplussed than he had 
 ever been in his active existence. He opened 
 his mouth as though to reply, and beheld Stover 
 calmly draw forth his watch. Had it been any 
 one else, Dennis would have hesitated; but he 
 knew Stover of old and what the chilly, metallic 
 note was in his voice. He chose the lesser of 
 two evils and gave the apology. 
 
 " The chair will now state," said Stover, re 
 placing his watch, " for the benefit of any other 
 young, transcendent jokers that may care to 
 display their side-splitting wit, that the chair 
 is quite capable of handling the previous ques 
 tion, or any other question, and that these meet 
 ings are going to be orderly proceedings and not 
 one-ring circuses for the benefit of the Kennedy 
 Association of Clowns. The question before the 
 House is the protest against compulsory bath. 
 The chair recognizes Mr. Lazelle to make a mo 
 tion." 
 
 The cup of Finnegan s bitterness was not yet 
 
 filled. Stover s first act of administration was 
 
 to forbid the privileges of the cold-air flues and 
 
 the demon cigarette to all members of the House 
 
 [354] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 who had not attained, according to his judg 
 ment, either a proper age or a sufficient display 
 of bodily stature. Among the proscribed was 
 Dennis de Brian de Boru Finnegan, whose legs, 
 clothed in new dignity, fairly quivered under the 
 affront, as he tearfully protested: 
 
 " I say, Dink, it s an outrage ! " 
 
 "Can t help it. It s for your own good." 
 
 "But I m fifteen." 
 
 " Now, see here, Dennis," said Stover firmly, 
 "your business is to grow and to be of some 
 us-e. No one s going to know about it unless you 
 yell it out, but I m going to see that you turn 
 out a decent, manly chap and not another Slops 
 Barnett," 
 
 " But you went with Slops yourself." 
 
 "I did but you re not going to be such a 
 fool." 
 
 " Why, you re a regular tyrant ! " 
 
 " All right, call it that." 
 
 "And I elected you," said Dennis, the ag 
 grieved and astounded modern politician. " This 
 is Goo-gooism ! " 
 
 " No, it isn t," said Stover indignantly. " I m 
 not interfering with any fellow who s sixteen 
 they can do what they darn please. But I m 
 not going to have a lot of kids in this House 
 starting sporting life until they ve grown up to 
 it, savez? They re going to be worth living with 
 [355] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 and having around, and not abominations in the 
 sight of gods and men. Pass the word along." 
 
 The revolt, for a short while, was furiously 
 indignant, but the prestige of Stover s reputa 
 tion forestalled all thought of disobedience. In 
 such cases absolute power is in the hands of 
 him who can wield it, and Stover could com 
 mand. 
 
 In short order he had reduced the youngsters 
 to respect and usefulness, with the following im 
 perial decrees: 
 
 1. All squabs are to maintain in public a de 
 ferential and modest attitude. 
 
 2. No squab shall talk to excess in the pres 
 ence of his elders. 
 
 3. No squab shall habitually use bad lan 
 guage, under penalty of an application of soap 
 and water. 
 
 4. No squab shall use tobacco in any form. 
 
 5. No squab shall leave the House after light? 
 without express permission. 
 
 These regulations were not simply an excer- 
 cise of arbitrary authority, for in the House it 
 self were certain elements which Dink perfectly 
 understood, and whose spheres of influence he 
 was resolved to confine to their own limits. 
 
 " How re you going to enforce, Sire, these im 
 perial decrees? " asked the Tennessee Shad, who, 
 however, thoroughly approved. 
 [356] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 " I have a method," said Stover, with an in 
 terior smile. "It s what I call a Rogues Gal 
 lery." 
 
 "I don t see," said the Tennessee Shad, 
 puzzled. 
 
 " You will." 
 
 The first rebel was a Freshman, Bellefont, 
 known as the Millionaire Baby, who, due to a 
 previous luxurious existence, had acquired 
 manly practices at an early age. Bellefont was 
 detected with the odor of tobacco. 
 
 " Young squab, have you been smoking? " said 
 Stover. 
 
 "Well, what are you going to do about it?" 
 said the youngster defiantly. 
 
 "Gutter Pup, get your camera," said Stover. 
 
 The Gutter Pup, mystified, returned. The au 
 tocrat seized the young rebel, slung him pater 
 nally across his knee and with raised hand spoke : 
 
 " Gutter Pup, snap a couple of good ones. 
 We ll make this Exhibit A in our Rogues Gal 
 lery." 
 
 Bellefont, at the thought of this public per 
 petuation, set up a howl and kicked as though 
 mortally stung. Stover held firm. The snap 
 shots were taken, developed and duly posted. 
 
 From that moment, in public at least, Stover s 
 slightest gesture was obeyed as promptly as the 
 lifting of an English policeman s finger. 
 [357] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 The yoke once accepted became popular alike 
 with the older members, who ceased to be an 
 noyed, and with the squabs themselves, who, 
 finding they were protected from bullying or 
 unfair exactions, soon adopted toward Stover 
 an attitude of reverent idolatry that was not 
 without its embarrassments. He was called 
 upon at all hours to render decisions on matters 
 political and philosophical, with the knowledge 
 that his opinion would instantly be adopted as 
 religion. Before him were brought all family 
 quarrels, some serious, some grotesque ; but each 
 class demanding a settlement in equity. 
 
 One afternoon Dennis maliciously piloted to 
 his presence Pee-wee Norris and his new room 
 mate, a youngster named Berbacker, called Cy 
 clops from the fact that one eye was glass, a 
 gift that brought him a peculiar admiration and 
 envy. 
 
 Stover, observing the cunning expression on 
 Finnegan s face, scented a trap. The matter 
 was, indeed, very grave. 
 
 "See here, Dink," said Pee-wee indignantly; 
 "I leave it to you. How would you like to 
 stumble upon a loose eye all over the room? " 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 " A loose eye. This fellow Cyclops is all the 
 time leaving his glass eye around in my diggings 
 and I don t like it. It s the deuce of a thing to 
 [358] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 find it winking up at you from the table or the 
 window-seat. It gives me the creeps. 
 
 "What have you got to say, Cyclops?" said 
 Stover, assuming a judicial air. 
 
 "Well, I ve always been used to takin the 
 eye out," said Cyclops, with an injured look. 
 " Most fellows are glad to see it. But, I say, 
 I m the fellow who has the kick. The whole 
 thing started by Norris hiding it on me." 
 
 " Did you swipe his eye? " said Stover severely. 
 
 " Well, yes, I did. W T hat right s he got to let 
 it out loose?" 
 
 " I want him to leave my eye alone," said Cy 
 clops. 
 
 " I w r ant him to keep his old eye in his old 
 socket," said Pee-wee. 
 
 " Oh, Solomon, what is thy judgment? " said 
 Dennis, who had engineered it all. 
 
 "I ll give my judgment and it ll settle it," 
 said Dink firmly. "But I ll think it over 
 first." 
 
 True to his word, he deliberated long and ac 
 tively and, as the judgment had to be given, 
 he called the complaining parties before him 
 and said: 
 
 " Now, look here, Pee-wee and Cyclops ; you 
 
 fellows are rooming together and you ve got to 
 
 get on. If you fight, keep it to yourselves; 
 
 don t shout it around. But get together 
 
 [359] 
 
THE VAKMINT 
 
 agree. You ve got to go on, and the more you 
 agree ahem the less you ll disagree, see? It s 
 just like marriage. Now you go back and live 
 like a respectable married couple, and if I hear 
 any more about this glass eye I ll spank you 
 both and have you photographed for the Rogues 
 Gallery." 
 
 Among the members of the Kennedy House 
 there were two who defied his authority and 
 gave him cause for dissatisfaction the Million 
 aire Baby, who was a nuisance because he had 
 been pampered and impressed with his own di 
 vine right, and a fellow named Horses Griffin, 
 who was unbearable because, owing to his size 
 and strength, he had never had the blessing of 
 a good thrashing. 
 
 Now when Stover promulgated his laws for 
 the protection of Squabs he had served notice 
 on the sporting centers that he expected their 
 adherence. Fellows like Slops Barnett and 
 Fatty Harris, who, to do them justice, approved 
 of segregation, made no defiance. Griffin, 
 though, who was a hulking, rather surly, self- 
 conscious fellow, secretly rebelled at this act 
 of authority, and gave asylum to Bellefont, from 
 whom he was glad to accept the good things that 
 regularly arrived in boxes from a solicitous 
 mother. 
 
 Stover had seen from the first how the issue 
 [360] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 would have to be met, and met it at the first 
 opportunity. Griffin having defied his author 
 ity by openly inviting the Millionaire Baby up 
 for the nefarious practice of matching pennies, 
 Dink marched up the stairs and entered the 
 enemy s room. 
 
 A moment later the group expectantly gathered 
 in the hall heard something within that resem 
 bled an itinerant cyclone, then the door blew 
 open and Griffin shot out and raced for the 
 stairs, while behind him like an angry tom-cat 
 came Stover, in time to give to the panicky 
 champion just that extra impetus that allowed 
 him, as Dennis expressed it, to establish a new 
 record flying start for the twenty-six steps. 
 After this little explanation Griffin showed a 
 marked disinclination for the company of Belle- 
 font, and became, indeed, quite a useful mem 
 ber of the community, though he always retained 
 such acute memories that an angry tone from 
 Stover would cause him to fidget and calculate 
 the distance to the door. 
 
 Griffin subdued, the Millionaire Baby still re 
 mained. The problem was a knotty one, for as 
 Bellefont was still of sub-stature the means of 
 correction were limited. 
 
 "What worries your Majesty?" said Dennis 
 de Brian de Boru, perceiving Stover in stern 
 meditation. "Is it that beautiful specimen of 
 [361] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 flunky-raised squab entitled the Millionaire 
 Baby? " 
 
 " It is," said Dink. Between him and Dennis 
 peace had long since been concluded. 
 
 " He is a very precious hothouse flower," said 
 Dennis sarcastically. 
 
 " He is the most useless, pestiferous, conceited 
 little squirt I ever saw," said Dink. 
 
 " I love him not." 
 
 "But I ll get that flunky smell out of him 
 yet!" 
 
 " The pity is he has such fat, juicy boxes from 
 home." 
 
 " He has how often? " 
 
 "Every two weeks." 
 
 " It oughtn t to be allowed." 
 
 "What are you going to do? You can t take 
 ? em by force." 
 
 "No that wouldn t do." 
 
 "Still," said Dennis regretfully, "he s so 
 young it is just ruining his little digestion." 
 
 They sat a moment deliberating. Finally 
 Dink spoke rapturously: 
 
 " I have it. We ll organize the Kennedy Cus 
 toms House." 
 
 "Aha!" 
 
 " Everything imported must pass the Customs 
 House." 
 
 "Pass?" 
 
 [362] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Certainly; everything must be legal." 
 
 "What am I to be?" 
 
 " Appraiser." 
 
 " I d rather be first taster." 
 
 " Same thing." 
 
 "You said pass," said Dennis obstinately, 
 " I don t like that word." 
 
 " Purely technical sense." 
 
 "But there will be duties imposed?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Aha ! " said Dennis brightening. " Very 
 high duties? " 
 
 " The maximum duty on luxuries," said Dink. 
 "We re all good Republicans, aren t we?" 
 
 " I am, if I can write the tariff schedule," said 
 Dennis, who, as may be seen, was orthodox. 
 
 When, on the following week, young Bellefont 
 received his regular installment of high-priced 
 indigestibles he was amazed to see the Gutter 
 Pup and Lovely Mead appear with solemn de 
 meanor. 
 
 " Hello," said the Millionaire Baby, placing 
 himself in front of the half-open box. 
 
 " See these badges," said Lovely Mead, point 
 ing to their caps, around which were displayed 
 white bandages inscribed " inspector." 
 
 " Sure." 
 
 "We re in the Customs House." 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 [363] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "And we have received information that you 
 are systematically smuggling goods into this ter 
 ritory." 
 
 The Millionaire Baby looked as though a ghost 
 had arisen. 
 
 " Aha ! " said the Gutter Pup, perceiving the 
 box. "Here s the evidence now. Officer, seize 
 the goods and the prisoner." 
 
 "What are you going to do to me? " said the 
 culprit in great alarm. 
 
 " Take you before the Customs Court." 
 
 The Customs Court was sitting, without ab 
 sentees, in Stover s room appraisers, weighers^ 
 adjusters and consulting experts, all legally 
 ticketed and very solemn. The prisoner was 
 stood in a corner and the contents of the box 
 spread on the floor. 
 
 "First exhibit one plum cake," announced 
 Beekstein, who was in a menial position. 
 
 "Duty sixty-five per cent," said Dennis de 
 Brian de Boru Finnegan, consulting a book. 
 " Raisins and spices." 
 
 " Two bottles of anchovy olives." 
 
 "Duty fifty per cent, imported fruits." 
 
 "Only fifty per cent?" said Stover, who had 
 ft preference for the same. 
 
 That s all." 
 
 "What s it on?" 
 
 "Imported fruits." 
 
 [364] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "How about spiced fish?" said the Tennessee 
 Shad, coming to the rescue, " and, likewise, Ital 
 ian glass?" 
 
 The Millionaire Baby gave a groan. 
 
 " Imported fish, forty per cent," said Dennis, 
 "glass Venetian glass thirty -five per cent, 
 He owes us thirty per cent on this." 
 
 "Continue," said Stover, casting a grateful 
 glance at the Tennessee Shad. 
 
 " Two boxes of candied prunes, that s vege 
 tables, twenty-five per cent." 
 
 "They re preserved in sugar, aren t they?" 
 
 " Sure." 
 
 " There s a duty of fifty per cent on sugar." 
 
 " Long live the Sugar Trust." 
 
 "Doggone robbers! " said the Millionaire Babj 
 tearfully. 
 
 " Three boxes salted almonds, one large Jbox 
 of chocolate bonbons, one angel cake and six 
 tins of candied ginger." 
 
 The judges, deliberating, assessed each article. 
 Stover rose to announce the decree. 
 
 " The clerk of the court will return to the im 
 porter thirty-five per cent of the plum cake, 
 twenty-five per cent of the candied prunes, one 
 box of salted almonds and two tins of gin 
 ger." 
 
 The Millionaire Baby breathlessly contained 
 his wrath. 
 
 F 365 ] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Dennis de Brian de Bom Finnegan addressed 
 the court: 
 
 "Your Honor." 
 
 "Mr. Finnegan." 
 
 " I beg to call to your Honor s attention that 
 these goods have been seized and are subject 
 to a fine." 
 
 " True," said Stover, glancing sternly at the 
 frothing Bellefont. " I would be inclined to be 
 lenient, but I am informed that this is not the 
 defendant s first offense. The clerk of the court 
 will, therefore, confiscate the whole." 
 
 The Millionaire Baby, with a howl, began to 
 express himself in the language of the stables. 
 
 " Gag him," said Stover, " and let him be in 
 formed that the duties will be lightened if in 
 the future he declares his imports." 
 
 The government then applied the revenues to 
 the needs of the department of the interior. 
 
 " The duty on anchovy olives is too high," said 
 Finnegan, looking fondly down a bottle. 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " It will stop the imports." 
 
 " True we might reduce it." 
 
 "We mast encourage imports," said the Gut 
 ter Pup firmly. 
 
 And the chorus came full mouthed: 
 
 "Sure!" 
 
 The Millionaire Baby received three more 
 [366] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 boxes that is, he received the limited portion 
 that a paternal government allowed him. Then, 
 being chastened, he took a despicable revenge 
 he stopped the supply. 
 
 " Well, it was sweet while it lasted," said Den 
 nis regretfully. 
 
 " We ve stopped toadyism in the House," said 
 Stover virtuously. " We have eliminated the in 
 fluence of money." 
 
 "That is praiseworthy, but it doesn t fill me 
 with enthusiasm." 
 
 " Dink," said the Tennessee Shad, " I must 
 say I consider this one of your few failures. 
 You re a great administrator, but you don t un 
 derstand the theory of taxation." 
 
 "I don t, eh? Well, what is the theory?" 
 
 " The theory of taxation," said the Tennessee 
 Shad, " is to soak the taxed all they ll stand for, 
 but to leave them just enough, so they ll come 
 again." 
 
 [367] 
 
XXIV 
 
 No sooner had Mr. John H. Stover returned 
 from the serious developments of the summer, 
 arranged his new possessions and brought for 
 ward the photograph of Miss McCarty to a posi 
 tion on the edge of his bureau, where he could 
 turn to it the last thing at night and again be 
 hold it with his waking glance, than a horrible 
 coincidence appeared. 
 
 Among the festive decorations that made the 
 corporate home of Dink and the Tennessee Shad 
 a place to visit and admire was, as has been re 
 lated, a smashing poster of a ballet dancer in the 
 costume of an amazon parader. Up to now Dink 
 had shared the just pride of the Tennessee Shad 
 in this rakish exhibit that somehow gave the 
 possessor the reputation of having an acquain 
 tance with stage entrances. But on the second 
 morning when his faithful glance turned to the 
 protecting presence of Miss McCarty resting 
 among the brushes, it paused a moment on the 
 representative of the American dramatic pro 
 fession, who was coquettishly trying to conceal 
 one foot behind her ear. 
 
 Then he sat bolt upright with a start. By 
 [368] 
 
THJU VAKMINT 
 
 some strange perversion of the fate that delights 
 in torturing lovers, the features of the immod 
 estly clothed amazon bore the most startling 
 resemblance to that paragon of celestial purity, 
 Miss Josephine McCarty. 
 
 The more he gazed the more astounding was 
 the imlpression. He gazed and then he did not 
 gaze at all it seemed like a profanation. The 
 resemblance, once perceived, positively haunted 
 him; stand where he might his eyes could see 
 nothing but the seraphic head of Miss McCarty 
 upon the unspeakable body of the amazon 
 and then those legs ! 
 
 For days this centaurian combination tor 
 tured him without his being able to evolve a 
 satisfactory method of removing the blasphe 
 mous poster. A direct attack was quite out of 
 the question, for manifestly the Tennessee Shad 
 would denmnd an adequate explanation for the 
 destruction of his treasured possession. There 
 could be no explanation except the true one, and 
 such a confession was unthinkable, even to a 
 roommate unde^ oath. 
 
 For two solid weeks Stover, brooding desper 
 ately, sought to avert his glance from the pro 
 fane spectacle before chance came to his rescue. 
 One Saturday night, after a strenuous game 
 with the Princeton Freshmen, Dink, afraid of 
 going stale, decided to quicken his jaded appe 
 [369] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 tite by an application of sardines, deviled ham 
 and rootbeer. 
 
 The feasting-table happened to be directly be 
 neath the abhorrent poster, so that Stover, as 
 he lifted the bottle to open it, beheld with fury 
 the offending tights. He gave the bottle instinc 
 tively a shake and with that disturbing motion 
 suddenly came his plan. 
 
 " This rootbeer has been flai as the deuce 
 lately," he said. 
 
 " They re selling us poor stuff," said the Ten 
 nessee Shad, with the tail of a sardine disap 
 pearing within. 
 
 "I wonder if I could put life in the blame 
 thing if I shook it up a bit," said Stover, suit 
 ing the action to the word. 
 
 Now, the Tennessee Shad knew from expe 
 rience what that result would be, but as Stover 
 was holding the bottle he dissembled his knowl 
 edge. 
 
 " Give it a shake," he said. 
 
 Stover complied. 
 
 " Shake her again. 
 
 "How s that?" 
 
 " Once more. It ll be just like champagne." 
 
 Stover gave it a final vigorous shake, pointed 
 
 the nozzle toward the poster and cut the cork. 
 
 There was an explosion and then the contents 
 
 rose like a geyser and spread over the ceiling 
 
 [ 370 ] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 and the luckless ballet dancer who dared to re 
 semble Miss McCarty. 
 
 By the next morning the poster was unrecog 
 nizable under a coating of dried reddish spots 
 and was ignominiously removed, to the delight 
 of Stover, whose illusions were thus preserved, 
 as well as his secret. 
 
 Now, the month spent at the McCartys had 
 strengthened his honorable intentions and given 
 them that definite purpose that is sometimes 
 vulgarly ticketed object matrimony. 
 
 It is not that Dink could return over the ro 
 mantic days of his visit and lay his finger on 
 any particular scene or any definite word that 
 could be construed as binding Miss McCarty. 
 But, on the other hand, his own actions and 
 expressions, he thought, must have been so capa 
 ble of but one interpretation that, as a man of 
 honor, he held himself morally as well as will 
 ingly bound. Of course, she had understood his 
 attitude; she must have understood. And, like 
 wise, there were events that made him believe 
 that she, in her discreet way, had let him see by 
 her actions what she could not convey by her 
 words. For, of course, in his present position 
 of dependence on his father, nothing could be 
 said. He understood that. He would not have 
 changed it. Still, there were unmistakable mem 
 ories of the preference he had enjoyed. There 
 [371] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 had been, in particular, an ill-favored 
 called Ver Plank, who had always been hanging 
 around with his tandem and his millions, who 
 had been sacrificed a dozen times by the unmer- 
 cenary angel to his, John H. Stover s, profit. 
 That was clear enough, and there had been many 
 such incidents. 
 
 The only thing that disappointed Dink was 
 the polite correctness of her letters. But then 
 something, he said to himself, must be allowed 
 for maiden modesty. His own letters were the 
 product of afternoons and evenings. The her 
 culean difficulty that he experienced in cover 
 ing four sheets of paper even when writing a 
 flowing hand and allowing half a page for the 
 signature secretly worried him. It seemed as 
 though something was lacking in his character 
 or in the strength of his devotion. 
 
 On the day after the final disappearance of 
 the brazen amazon Dink pounced upon a violet 
 envelope in the well-known handwriting and 
 bore it to a place of secrecy. It was in answer 
 to four of his own painful compositions. 
 
 He gave three glances before reading, three 
 glances that estimate all such longed-for epistles. 
 There were five pages, which brought him a 
 thrill ; it was signed " as ever, Josephine," which 
 brought him a doubt ; and it began " Dear Jack," 
 which brought him nothing at all. 
 [372] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Having thus passed from hot to cold, and back 
 to a fluctuating temperature, he began the let 
 ter first, to read what was written, and sec 
 ond, to read what might be concealed between 
 the lines: 
 
 DEAR JACK: Since your last letter I ve been 
 in a perfect whirl of gayety dances, coaching 
 parties and what-not. Really, you would say 
 that I was nothing but a frivolous butterfly of 
 fashion. Next week I am going to the Ver 
 Planks with quite a party and we are to coach 
 through the Berkshires. The Judsons are to be 
 along and that pretty Miss Dow, of whom I was 
 so jealous when you were here, do you remem 
 ber? I met a Mr. Cockrell, who, it seems, was 
 at Lawrenceville. He told me you were going 
 to be a phenomenal football player, captain of 
 the team next year, and all sorts of wonderful 
 things. He admires you tremendously. I was 
 so pleased ! Don t forget to write soon. 
 
 As ever, 
 
 JOSEPHINE. 
 
 This letter, as indeed all her letters did, left 
 Dink trapezing, so to speak, from one emotion 
 to another. He had not acquired that knowl 
 edge, which indeed is never acquired, of valuing 
 to a nicety the intents, insinuations and com 
 plexities of the feminine school of literature. 
 [373] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 There were things that sent him soaring like 
 a Japanese kite and there were things, notably 
 the reference to Ver Plank, that tumbled him as 
 awkwardly down. 
 
 He immediately seized upon pen and paper. 
 It had, perhaps, been his fault. He would con 
 duct the correspondence on a more serious tone. 
 He would be a little daring. 
 
 At the start he fell into the usual inky deliber 
 ation. " Dear Josephine " was so inadequate. 
 " My dear Josephine " had or did it not have 
 > just an extra little touch of tenderness, a 
 peculiar claim to possession. But if so, would 
 it be too bold or too sentimental? He wrote 
 boldly: 
 
 " My dear Josephine : " 
 
 Then he considered. Unfortunately, at that 
 time the late lamented Pete Daly, in the halls of 
 the likewise lamented Weber and Fields, was 
 singing dusky love songs to a lady likewise en 
 titled " My Josephine." The connection was un 
 thinkable. Dink tore the page into minute bits 
 and, selecting another, sighed and returned to 
 the old formula. 
 
 Here another long pause succeeded while he 
 searched for a sentiment or a resolve that would 
 raise him. in her estimation. It is a mood in 
 which the direction of a lifetime is sometimes 
 bartered for a phrase. So it happened with 
 [ 374 ] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Dink. Suddenly his face lit up and he started 
 co write: 
 
 DEAR JOSEPHINE : Your letter came to me just 
 as I was writing you of a plan I have been 
 thinking of for weeks. I have decided not to go 
 to college. Of course, it would be a great pleas 
 ure and, perhaps, I look upon life too seriously, 
 as you often tell me ; but I want to get to work, 
 to feel that I am standing on my own feet, and 
 four years seems an awful time to wait, for 
 that. What do you think? I do hope you under 
 stand just icliat I mean. It is very serious to me, 
 the most serious thing in the world. 
 
 I m glad you re having a good time. 
 
 Don t write such nonsense about Miss Dow; 
 you know there s nothing in that direction. DQ 
 write and tell me what you think about my 
 plan. 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 JACK. 
 
 P. S. When are you going to send me that 
 new photograph? I have only three of you now, 
 a real one and two kodaks. I m glad you re 
 having a good time. 
 
 No sooner was this letter dispatched and 
 Stover had realized what had been in his mind 
 [375] 
 
THE yARMINT 
 
 for weeks than he went to Tough McCarty to 
 inform him of his high resolve. 
 
 " But, Dink," said Tough in dismay, " you 
 can t be serious! Why, we were going through 
 college together ! " 
 
 " That s the hard part of it," said Dink, look 
 ing and, indeed, feeling very solemn. 
 
 " But you re giving up a wonderful career. 
 Every one says you ll be a star end. You ll make 
 the All-American. Oh, Dink!" 
 
 " Don t," said Dink heroically. 
 
 "But, I say, what s happened?" 
 
 " It s it s a family matter," said Stover, who 
 on such occasions, it will be perceived, had a 
 strong family feeling. 
 
 " Is it decided?" said Tough in consternation. 
 
 "Unless stocks take a turn," said Dink. 
 
 McCarty was heartbroken, Dink rather 
 pleased, with the new role that, somehow, lifted 
 him from his fellows in dignity and seriousness 
 and seemed to cut down the seven years. All 
 that week he waited hopefully for her answer. 
 She must understand now the inflexibility of 
 his character and the intensity of his devotion. 
 His letter told everything, and yet in such a 
 delicate manner that she must honor him the 
 more for the generous way in which he took 
 everything upon himself, offered everything and 
 asked nothing. He was so confidently happy 
 [376] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 and elated with the vexed decision of his affairs 
 that he even took the Millionaire Baby over to 
 the Jigger Shop and stood treat, after a few 
 words of paternal advice which went unheeded. 
 
 Toward the beginning of the third week in 
 the early days of November, as the squad was 
 returning from practice Tough said casually: 
 
 " I say, did you get a letter from Sis? " 
 
 " No," said Dink with difficulty. 
 
 "You probably have one at the house. She s 
 engaged." 
 
 "What?" said Dink faintly. The word 
 seemed to be spoken from another mouth. 
 
 "Engaged to that Ver Plank fellow that was 
 hanging around. I think he s a mutt." 
 
 " Oh, yes Ver Plank." 
 
 " Gee, it gave me quite a jolt ! " 
 
 "Oh, I I rather expected it." 
 
 He left Tough, wondering how he had had 
 the strength to answer. 
 
 " Look out, you re treading on my toes," said 
 the Gutter Pup next him. 
 
 He mumbled something and his teeth closed 
 over his tongue in the effort to bring the sharp 
 sense of pain. He went to his box; the letter 
 was there. He went to his room and laid it on 
 the table, going to the window and staring out. 
 Then he sat down heavily, rested his head in 
 his hands and read : 
 
 [377] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 DEAR JACK: I m writing to you among the 
 first, for I want you particularly to know how 
 happy I am. Mr. Ver Plank 
 
 He put the letter down; indeed, he could not 
 see to read any further. There was nothing more 
 to read nothing mattered. It was all over, the 
 light was gone, everything was topsy-turvy. He 
 could not understand but it was over all over. 
 There was nothing left. 
 
 Some time later the Tennessee Shad came lop 
 ing down the hall, tried the door and, finding it 
 locked, called out: 
 
 " What the deuce open up ! " 
 
 Dink, in terror, rose from the table where he 
 had remained motionless. He caught up the 
 letter and hastily stuffed it in his desk, saying 
 gruffly: 
 
 "In a moment." 
 
 Then he dabbed a sponge over his face, pressed 
 his hands to his temples and, steadying himself, 
 unlocked the door. 
 
 " For the love of Mike ! " said the indignant 
 Tennessee Shad, and then, catching sight of 
 Dink, stopped. "Dink, what is the matter?" 
 
 " It s it s my mother," said Dink desperately. 
 
 " She s not dead? " 
 
 NO no " said Dink, now free to suff o 
 
 cate, " not yet." 
 
 [378] 
 
XXV 
 
 This providential appearance of his mothe* 
 mercifully allowed Dink an opportunity to suffer 
 without fear of disgrace in the eyes of the un 
 emotional Tennessee Shad. 
 
 That very night, as soon as the Shad had de 
 parted in search of Beekstein s guiding mathe 
 matical hand, Dink sat down heroically to frame 
 his letter of congratulations. He would show 
 her that, though she looked upon him as a boy, 
 there was in him the courage that never cries 
 out. She had played with him, but at least she 
 should look back with admiration. 
 
 " Dear Miss McCarty," he wrote that much 
 he owed to his own dignity, and that should be 
 his only reproach. The rest should be in the 
 tone of levity, the smile that shows no ache. 
 
 DEAR Miss MCCARTY: Of course, it was no 
 surprise to me. I saw it coming long ago. Mr. 
 Ver Plank seems to me a most estimable young 
 man. You will be very congenial, I am sure, 
 and very happy. Thank you for letting me know 
 among the first. That was bully of you ! Give 
 [379] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 my very best congratulations to Mr. Ver Plank 
 and tell him I think he s a very lucky fellow. 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 JACK. 
 
 He had resolved to sign formally "Cordially 
 yours John H. Stover." But toward the end 
 his resolution weakened. He would be faithful p 
 even if she were not. Perhaps, when she read 
 it and thought it over she would feel a little 
 remorse, a little acute sorrow. Imbued with the 
 thought, he stood looking at the letter, which 
 somehow brought a little consolation, a little 
 pride into the night of his misery. It was a 
 good letter a very good letter. He read it over 
 three times and then, going to the washstand, 
 took up the sponge and pressed out a lachrymal 
 drop that fell directly over the "Faithfully 
 yours." 
 
 It made a blot that no one could have looked 
 at unmoved. 
 
 He hastily sealed the letter and slipping out 
 the house, went over and mailed it with his 
 own hands. It was the farewell he would 
 never toil out his heart over another. And with 
 it went John Stover, the faithful cavalier. 
 Another John Stover had arisen, the man of 
 heroic sorrows. 
 
 For a whole week faithfully he was true to his 
 [380] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 grief, keeping his own company, eating out his 
 heart, suffering as only that first deception can 
 inflict sorrow. And he sought nothing else. He 
 hoped he hoped that he would go on suffering 
 for years and years, saddened and deceived. 
 
 But, somehow though, of course, deep down 
 within him nothing would ever change the 
 gloom gradually lifted. The call of his fellows 
 began to be heard again. The glances of the un< 
 der formers that followed his public appearances 
 with adoring worship began to please him once 
 more. 
 
 Finally, one afternoon, he stopped in at Ap- 
 pleby s to inspect a new supply of dazzling cra 
 vats. 
 
 " You ve got the first choice, Mr. Stover," said 
 Appleby in his caressing way. "No one s had 
 a look at them before you." 
 
 " Well, let s look ? em over," said Stover, with 
 a beginning of interest. 
 
 " Look at them," said Appleby ; " you re a 
 judge, Mr. Stover. You know how to dress in 
 a tasty way. Now, really, have you ever seen 
 anything genteeler than them? " 
 
 Stover fingered them and his eye lit up. They 
 certainly were exceptional and just the style 
 that was becoming to his blond advantages. He 
 selected six, then added two more and, finally, 
 went to his room with a dozen, where he tried 
 [381] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 them, one after the other, before his mirror, 
 smiling a little at the effect. 
 
 Then he went to his bureau and relegated the 
 photograph of the future Mrs. Ver Plank to the 
 rear and promoted Miss Dow to the place of 
 honor. 
 
 " That s over," he said ; " but she nearly ruined 
 my life!" 
 
 In which he was wrong, for if Miss McCarty 
 had not arrived Appleby, purveyor of Gents 
 Fancies, would never have sold him a dozen 
 most becoming neckties. 
 
 When the Tennessee Shad came in, he looked 
 in surprise. 
 
 "Hello, better news to-day?" he said sympa 
 thetically. 
 
 " News? " said Dink in a moment of abstrac 
 tion. 
 
 " Why, your mother." 
 
 " Oh, yes yes, she s better," said Dink hastily, 
 an<? to make it convincing he added in a reverent 
 voice, " thank God ! " 
 
 The next day he informed McCarty that he 
 had changed his raind. He was going to college ; 
 they would have four glorious years together. 
 
 "What s happened?" said Tough mystified. 
 "Better news from home?" 
 
 " Yes," said Dink, " stocks have gone up." 
 
 But the tragedy of his life had one result that 
 382] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 came near wrecking^ his career and tlie school s 
 hope for victory in the Andover game. During 
 the early weeks of the term Dink had been too 
 engrossed with his new responsibilities to study, 
 and during the later weeks too overwhelmed by 
 the real burden of life to think of such techni 
 calities as lessons. Having studied the prefer 
 ences and dislikes of his tyrants he succeeded, 
 however, in bluffing through most of his recita 
 tions with the loyal support of Beekstein. But 
 The Roman was not thus to be circumvented, 
 and as Dink, in the Byronic period or grief, had 
 no heart for florid improvisations of the applause 
 of the multitude he contented himself, whenever 
 annoyed by his implacable persecutor, The 
 Roman, by rising and saying with great dignity : 
 
 " Not prepared, sir." 
 
 The blow fell one week before the Andover 
 game, when such blows always fall. The Roman 
 called him up after class and informed him that, 
 owing to the paucity of evidence in his daily 
 appearances, he would have to put him to a 
 special examination to determine whether he 
 had a passing knowledge. 
 
 The school was in dismay. A failure, of 
 course, meant disbarment from the Andover 
 game the loss of Stover, who was the strength 
 of the whole left side. 
 
 To Dink, of course, this extraordinary decree 
 [383] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 was the crowning evidence of the determined 
 hatred of The Roman. And all because he had, 
 years before, mistaken him for a commercial 
 traveler and called him " Old Cocky- wax ! " 
 
 He would be flunked of course he would be 
 flunked if The Roman had made up his mind to 
 do it. He might have waited another week 
 after the Andover game. But no, his plan was 
 to keep him out the game, which of course, meant 
 the loss of the captaincy, which every one ac 
 corded him. 
 
 These opinions, needless to say, were shared 
 by all well-wishers of the eleven. There was 
 even talk, in the first moments of excitement, of 
 arraigning The Roman before the Board of Trus 
 tees. 
 
 The examination was to be held in The Roman s 
 study that night. Beekstein and Gumbo hur 
 ried to Dink s assistance. But what could that 
 avail with six weeks work to cover! 
 
 In this desperate state desperate means were 
 suggested by desperate characters. Stover 
 should go the examination padded with inter 
 linear, friendly aids to translation. A commit 
 tee from outside should then convey the gigantic 
 water cooler that stood in the hall to the upper 
 landing. There it should be nicely balanced on 
 the topmost step and a string thrown out the 
 window, which, at the right time, should be 
 [384] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 pulled by three patriots from other Houses. The 
 water cooler would descend with a hideous clat 
 ter, The Roman would rush from his study, and 
 Stover would be given time to refresh his mem 
 ory. 
 
 Now, Stover did not like this plan. He had 
 never done much direct cribbing, as that species 
 of deception made him uncomfortable and 
 seemed devoid of the high qualities of dignity 
 that should attend the warfare against the Natu 
 ral Enemy. 
 
 At first he refused to enter this conspiracy, 
 but finally yielded in a half-hearted way when 
 it was dinned in his ears that he was only meet 
 ing The Roman at his own game, that he w r as be 
 ing persecuted, that the school was being sacri 
 ficed for a private spite in a word, that the end 
 must be looked at and not the means and that 
 the end was moral and noble. 
 
 Thus partly won over, Dink entered The 
 Roman s study that night with portions of inter 
 linear translations distributed about his person 
 and whipped up into a rage against The Roman 
 that made him forget all else. 
 
 The study was on the ground floor the con 
 spirators were to wait at the window until 
 Stover should have received the examination 
 paper and given the signal. 
 
 The Roman nodded as Stover entered and, 
 [385] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 motioning him to a seat, gave him the questions, 
 saying: 
 
 "I sincerely hope, John, you are able to an 
 swer these." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Stover with great sar 
 casm. 
 
 He went to the desk by the window and sat 
 down, taking out his pencil. 
 
 There was a shuffling of feet and the scraping 
 of a chair across the room. Stover looked up in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Take your time, John," said The Roman, who 
 had risen. Then, without another word, he 
 turned and left the room. 
 
 Stover smiled to himself. He knew that trick. 
 He waited for the sudden reopening of the door, 
 but no noise came. He frowned and, mechan 
 ically looking at the questions, opened his book 
 at the place designated. Then he raised his 
 head and listened again. 
 
 All at once he became very angry. The 
 Roman was putting him on his honor he had 
 no right to do any such thing! It changed all 
 their preparations. It was a low-down, malig 
 nant trick. It took away all the elements of 
 danger that glorified the conspiracy. It made 
 it easy and, therefore, mean. 
 
 At the window came a timid scratching. 
 Stover shook his head. The Roman would re* 
 [386] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 turn. Then he would give the signal willingly, 
 So he folded his arms sternly and w r aited but 
 no footsteps slipped along outside the door. The 
 Koman had indeed left him to his honor. 
 
 A great, angry lump came in his throat, angry 
 tears blurred his eyes. He hated The Roman, he 
 despised him; it was unfair, it was malicious, 
 but he could not do what he would have done. 
 There icas a difference. 
 
 All at once the bowels of the House seemed 
 rent asunder, as down the stairs, bumping and 
 smashing, went the liberated water cooler. In 
 stantly a chorus of shrieks arose, steps rushing 
 to and fro, and then quiet. 
 
 Still The Roman did not come. Stover glanced 
 at the paragraphs selected, and oh, mockery and 
 bitterness, two out of three happened to be pas 
 sages he had read with Beekstein not an hour 
 before. His eye went over them, he remembered 
 them perfectly. 
 
 " If that ain t the limit ! " he said, choking. 
 " To know em after all. Of course, now I can t 
 do em. Of course, now if I hand em in the 
 old rhinoceros will think I cribbed em. Of all 
 the original Jobs I am the worst! This is the 
 fast straw ! " 
 
 When half an hour later The Roman returned 
 Stover was sitting erect, with folded arms and 
 lips compressed. 
 
 [387] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Ah, Stover, all through?" said The Roman, 
 as though the House had not just been blown 
 asunder. "Hand in your paper." 
 
 Stover stiffly arose and handed him the fools 
 cap. The Roman took it with a frowning little 
 glance. At the top was written in big, defiant 
 letters: "John H. Stover." 
 
 Below there was nothing at all. 
 
 Stover stood, swaying from heel to heel, watch 
 ing The Roman. 
 
 " What the deuce is he looking at? " he thought 
 in wonder, as The Roman sat silently staring at 
 the blank sheet. 
 
 Finally he turned over the page, as though 
 carefully perusing it, poised a pencil, and said 
 in a low voice, without glancing up : 
 
 "Well, John, I think this will just about 
 pass." 
 
 [ 388 ] 
 
XXVI 
 
 The football season had ended victoriously. 
 The next week brought the captaincy for the 
 following year to Stover by unanimous approval. 
 But the outlook for the next season was of the 
 weakest; only four men would remain. The 
 charge that he would have to lead would be a 
 desperate one. This sense of responsibility was, 
 perhaps, more acute in Stover than even the 
 pleasure-giving sense of the attendant admira 
 tion of the school whenever he appeared among 
 them. 
 
 Other thoughts, too, were working within him. 
 Ever since the extraordinary outcome of his ex 
 amination at the hands of The Eoman Stover 
 had been in a ferment of confusion. The 
 Roman s action amazed, then perplexed, then 
 doubly confounded him. 
 
 If The Roman was not his enemy, had not 
 been all this time his persistent, malignant foe, 
 svhat then? What was left to him to cling to? 
 If he admitted this, then his whole career would 
 have to be reconstructed. Could it be that, after 
 all, month in and month out, it had been 
 The Roman himself who had stood as his friend 
 [389] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 in all the hundred and one scrapes in which he 
 had tempted Fate? And pondering on this 
 gravely, Dink Stover, in the portion of his soul 
 that was consecrated to fair play, was mightily 
 exercised. 
 
 He consulted Tough McCarty, as he consulted 
 him now on everything that lay deeper than the 
 lip currency of his fellows. They were return 
 ing from a long walk over the early December 
 roads in the grays and drabs of the approaching 
 twilight. Stover had been unusually silent, and 
 the mood settled on him 1 , as, turning the hill, they 
 saw the clustered skyline of the school through 
 the bared branches. 
 
 " What the deuce makes you so solemncholy? " 
 said Tough. 
 
 " I was thinking," said Dink with dignity. 
 
 "Excuse me." 
 
 " I was thinking," said Dink, rousing himself, 
 "that I ve been all wrong." 
 
 "I don t get that." 
 
 " I mean The Roman." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " Tough, you know down at the bottom I have 
 a sneaking suspicion that he s been for me right 
 along. It s a rotten feeling, but I m afraid it s 
 so." 
 
 " Shouldn t wonder. Have you spoken to 
 him?" 
 
 [390] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I m not sure. And then, I don t know just 
 how to get to it." 
 
 "Jump right in and tackle him around the 
 knees/ said Tough. 
 
 "I think I will," said Dink, who understood 
 the metaphor. 
 
 They went up swinging briskly, watching in 
 silence the never stale spectacle of the panorama 
 of the school. 
 
 " I say, Dink," said Tough suddenly, " Sis is 
 going to put the clamps on that T. Willyboy, 
 Yer Plank." 
 
 "Really when?" said Dink, surprised that 
 the news brought him no emotion* 
 
 " Next month." 
 
 Stover laughed a little laugh. 
 
 " You know," he said with a bit of confusion, 
 " I fancied I was terribly in love with Josephine 
 myself for a little while." 
 
 "Sure," said Tough without surprise. "Jo 
 would flirt with anything that had long pants 
 on." 
 
 " Yes, she s a flirt," said Stover, and the judg 
 ment sounded like the swish of shears cutting 
 away angels wings. 
 
 They separated at the campus and Stover went 
 toward the Kennedy. Half-way there an excited 
 [391] 
 
THE VAEMINT 
 
 little urchin came rushing up, pulling off his 
 cap. 
 
 "Well, what is it, youngster?" said Stover, 
 who didn t recognize him. 
 
 " Please, sir," said the young hero worshiper, 
 produciDg a photograph of the team from under 
 his jacket, " would you mind putting your name 
 on this? I should be awfully obliged." 
 
 Stover took it and wrote his name. 
 
 "Who is this?" 
 
 "Williams, Jigs Williams, sir, over in the 
 Cleve." 
 
 "Well, Jigs, there you are." 
 
 " Oh, thank you. Say " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Aren t you going to have an individual pho 
 tograph?" 
 
 " No, of course not," said Stover with only 
 outward gruffness. 
 
 "All the fellows are crazy for one, sir." 
 
 " Run along, now," said Stover with a pleased 
 laugh. He stood on the steps, watching the 
 elated Jigs go scudding across the Circle, and 
 then went into the Kennedy. In his box was 
 a letter of congratulation from Miss Dow. He 
 read it smiling, and then took up the photo 
 graph and examined it more critically. 
 
 " She s a dear little girl," he said. " Devilish 
 smart figure." 
 
 [392] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 Miss Dow, of course, was very young. She 
 was only twenty. 
 
 That night, after an hour s brown meditation, 
 he suddenly rose and, descending the stairs, 
 knocked at the sanctum sanctorum. 
 
 "Come in," said the low, musical voice. 
 
 Stover entered solemnly. 
 
 " Ah, it s you, John," said The Roman with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Yes, sir, it s me," said Stover, leaning up 
 against the door. 
 
 The Roman glanced up quickly and, seeing 
 what was coming, took up the paper-cutter and 
 began to twist it through his fingers. There was 
 a silence, long and painful, 
 
 " Well ? " said The Roman in a queer voice. 
 
 "Mr. Hopkins," said Dink, advancing a step. 
 " I guess I ve been all wrong. I haven t come 
 to you before, as I suppose I ought, because I ve 
 had to sort of think it over. But now, sir, I ve 
 come in to have it out." 
 
 "I m glad you have, John." 
 
 " I want to ask you one question." 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 " Have you, all this time, really been standing 
 by me, yanking me out of all the messes I got 
 in?" 
 
 " Well, that expresses it, perhaps." 
 
 "Then I ve been way off," said Stover sol- 
 [393] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 emnly. " Why, sir, all this time I thought you 
 were down on me, had it in for me, right from 
 the first" 
 
 " From our first meeting? " said The Roman, 
 with a little chuckle. "Perhaps, John, you 
 didn t give me credit shall I say, for a sense 
 of humor?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." Stover looked a moment at his 
 polished boot and then resolutely at The Roman. 
 " Mr. Hopkins, I ve been all wrong. I ve been 
 unfair, sir; I want to apologize to you." 
 
 "Thank you," said The Roman, and then be 
 cause they were Anglo-Saxons they shook hands 
 and instantly dropped them. 
 
 "Mr. Hopkins," said Stover after a moment, 
 "I must have given you some pretty hard 
 times? " 
 
 "You were always full of energy, John." 
 
 "I don t see what made you stand by me, 
 sir." 
 
 "John," said The Roman, leaning back and 
 caging his fingers, " it is a truth which it is, per 
 haps, unwise to publish abroad, and I shall have 
 to swear you to the secret. It is the boy whose 
 energy must explode periodically and often dis 
 astrously, it is the boy who gives us the most 
 trouble, who wears down our patience and tries 
 our souls, who is really the most worth while." 
 
 "Not the high markers and the gospel 
 [394] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 sharks?" said Stover, too amazed to choose the 
 classic line. 
 
 " Sh ! " said the Roman, laying his finger on 
 his lips. 
 
 Stover felt as though he held the secret of 
 kings. 
 
 " And now, John," said The Roman in a mat 
 ter-of-fact tone, " since you are behind the scenes, 
 one thing more. The real teacher, the real in 
 structor, is not I, it is you. We of the Faculty 
 can only paint the memory with facts that are 
 like the writing in the sand. The real things 
 that are learned are learned from you. Now, 
 forgive me for being a little serious. You are 
 a leader. It is a great responsibility. They re 
 all looking up at you, copying you. You set the 
 standard; set a manly one." 
 
 "I think, sir, I ve tried to do that lately," 
 said Stover, nodding. 
 
 " And now, in the House bring out some of 
 the younger fellows." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " There s Norris. Perliaps a little serious talk 
 only a word dropped." 
 
 "You re right, sir; I understand what you 
 mean." 
 
 " Then there s Berbecker." 
 
 "He s only a little fresh, sir; there s good 
 stuff in him." 
 
 [395] 
 
THE VARMINT 
 
 "And then, John, there s a boy who s been 
 under early disadvantages, but a bright boy, full 
 of energy, good mind, but needs to be taken in 
 hand, with a little kindness." 
 
 " Who, sir? " 
 
 Belief ont." 
 
 " Bellefont ! " said Stover, exploding. " I beg 
 your pardon, sir. You re wrong there. That 
 kid is hopeless. Nothing will do him any good. 
 He s a perfect little nuisance. He s a thorough 
 going, out-and-out little varmint!" 
 
 The Koman tapped the table and, looking far 
 out through the darkened window, smiled the 
 gentle smile of one who has watched the ever- 
 recurrent miracle of humanity, the struggling 
 birth of the man out of the dirtied, hopeless 
 cocoon of the boy. 
 
 And Stover, suddenly beholding that smile, 
 all at once stopped, blushed and understood! 
 
 THE END 
 
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