For the Honor of Randall Part 9

"Sure. I was only joking," and then Tom went over to his bureau and began rummaging among the contents of a certain drawer--contents which were in all sorts of a hodge-podge.

"By Jove!" cried Tom. "It's gone!"

"What?" inquired Frank.

"That new tan-colored tie I bought last week. It just matched my vest.

Who took it?" and he faced his chums.

"How dare you?" burst out Phil, with pretended anger. "To accuse us, when there are so many other guilty ones in Randall! How dare you?"

"Come on, fork it over, whoever took it!" demanded Tom. "Some of you have it. Caesar's side-saddles! A fellow can't have anything decent here any more! I'm going to have locks put on my bureau!"

"What do you want of that tan-colored tie, anyhow?" asked Sid.

"Oh, so you're the guilty one!" cried Tom. "I'll get it," and he strode over to his chum's bureau, where, from a drawer, after a short search, he pulled the missing tie.

"All crumpled up, too!" he exclaimed, as he looked at it ruefully. "I'll fix you for this, Sid."

"Oh, I didn't mean to muss it so. I just borrowed it to wear the other night, and we got to skylarking, and----"

"Skylarking with a girl!" cried Frank aghast. "Say, you are going some, Sid."

"Oh, I only tried to----"

"Kiss her--I know," went on Frank relentlessly. "You ought to be given the 'silence.' But in view of the fact that there are mitigating circ.u.mstances, and that you wore another fellow's tie, we will suspend sentence. But don't let it occur again. Now about this glad-rag affair."

"That's it," broke in Phil. "I don't see why Tom made such a fuss about that tie. He can't wear it to the dance, anyhow."

"Why not? Is it a full-dress affair?" asked the owner of the tan scarf, as he carefully smoothed it out.

"Sure it is."

"Oh, then that's different. I didn't know."

"And you bully-ragging me the way you did!" reproached Sid. "Never mind.

I still have some friends left. But I'll pay for having your little new tie put in shape again, Tommy my boy. I'll buy you new inner tubes for it, and a shoe, and you can have all the gasolene you want to make it go."

"Oh, shut up!" retorted Tom, and he began to rummage in his drawer once more.

"What now?" asked Phil.

"My studs. I suppose some one has pinched them."

But no one had, and Tom's sudden energy in looking to see if he had all things needful for the dance suggested to the others that they might profitably do the same thing.

The invitations, which had come by special delivery, were put away with similar ones, and other relics of good times in the past, and then the boys began talking about the coming affair. Lessons for the next day were not as well prepared as usual, as might easily be imagined.

And the night of the dance! For the preserving of the reputations of my heroes in particular, and all young men in general I am not going to give the details of the "primping" that went on in the rooms of the four inseparables.

"It is simply disgraceful to see decent, well-behaved and seemingly intelligent human beings behave so," Holly Cross remarked as he dropped in when the four were getting into their "glad rags." He went on: "I never would have believed it--never, if I had not seen it with my own eyes."

"Get out! You're mad because you're not going," said Tom, as he made up his white tie for about the fifth time.

"I wouldn't so lower myself!" shot back Holly, as he went out.

But at last the boys were ready, and, talk about girls taking a long time to--well, but there, I promised to say nothing about it. Anyhow, at last they were off.

The dances at Fairview were always enjoyable affairs, and this one was no exception. The girl friends of our heroes were awaiting them.

"I hope your cards aren't all filled," greeted Tom.

"There is _one_ dance left for each of you," spoke Madge Tyler, but her laughing eyes stopped the protest that arose to Tom's lips.

"You don't mean it!" he burst out, as he took the program from her. Then a look showed him that there were many vacant s.p.a.ces which he proceeded to fill. Madge laughed mischievously.

"Whose name was down here, that you rubbed off?" demanded Tom suspiciously. Miss Tyler blushed.

"Oh, that's some of your Randall manners," she burst out.

"Randall manners! What do you mean?" asked Tom.

"A little while ago," she explained, "just before you boys came, I was standing near a pillar. Someone came up behind me, and s.n.a.t.c.hed my program from my hand. Before I could stop him he had scribbled his name down. But I rubbed it out."

"Do you mean a Randall man did that?"

"He did."

"Who was he?"

"Mr. Shambler."

"That lout again!" murmured Tom. "I'll teach him a lesson."

"No, don't," begged Madge. "I told him what I thought of him myself."

"Good!" exclaimed Tom, and then he detailed the circ.u.mstances to his chums. They agreed that Jake Shambler would have to be taught a severe lesson if his "freshness" did not subside soon.

Not at all rebuffed by what had happened, however, Shambler asked some of the other girls in Miss Tyler's set to dance with him, but they refused. However he managed to find some partners, including the girl who had invited him. He greeted our heroes with breezy familiarity, and they could do no less than bow coldly. But Shambler did not seem to mind.

The dance went on, and the inseparables had a fine time. Doubtless their girl friends did also, and it was not until an early hour that the affair ended.

"And to think that we won't have another for at least a month!" groaned Tom, as he and his chums wended their way Randallward.

"And you're the chap that was making such a fuss about a tan tie,"

murmured Sid. "Look at yours now. There's nothing left of it."

"No, nor my collar either," replied Tom, feeling of his wilted linen, for he had danced much.