The Varmint Part 10

Al, producing a patent clipper, began to pare his nails.

"Al?"

"What?"

"Won't you trust me?"

"Don't make me laugh!"

"Al's 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 stick-pin 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," 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 indignantly. "This coat's brand new, worth thirty dollars."

Al, suddenly s.h.i.+fting, 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 a.s.sociations 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."

"What do you mean?" said Doc Macnooder indignantly.

"I mean that it don't b.u.t.ton, 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 quarter, "fill 'em up."

Al heaped up the gla.s.ses, adding an appreciative extra dab with the magnanimity of the victor, 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?"

"Second, sir."

"Why, shake, then, brother," said the Tennessee 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."

"Rats!" 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 freshman. Step up."

"I'll have another one of these," said Stover gratefully, feeling his heart warm toward the unexpected friends.