The Story of Sugar | Page 4

piano any tune
he heard whistled. What wonder he speedily became the idol of
Colversham? He was a born leader, tactfully marshaling at will the
boys who were his own age, and good-naturedly bullying those who
were younger.
To the school authorities he presented a problem. His influence was
strong and, they felt, not always good; yet there was not a teacher on
the premises who did not like him. Intellectually they were forced to
own that he was demoralizing. He was, moreover, a disturber of the
social order. But his pranks were, after all, pure mischief and never
malicious or underhanded. With a boy like Bob Carlton as a roommate
and drag anchor the principal argued he could not go far astray.
And so the first year had passed without mishap, and already the
second was nearing its close. The school board congratulated itself.
Had the faculty known that for most of his scholarship, poor as it often
was, Van Blake was indebted to the sheer will power of Bob Carlton
they might have felt less sanguine. Day after day Bob had patiently
tutored his big chum in order that he might contrive to scrape through
his lessons. It was Bob who did the work and Van who serenely
accepted the fruits of it--accepted it but too frequently with scant thanks
and even with grumbling. Bob, however, doggedly kept at his
self-imposed task. To-day's Latin translation was but an illustration of

the daily program; Bob did the pioneering and Van came upon the field
when the path was cleared of difficulties. And yet it was a glance of
genuine affection that Bob cast at his friend stretched so comfortably in
the big Morris chair with a pillow at his back.
"There, you lazy villain, I think you'll do!" he declared at last. "Don't
forget about the hostages in the second line; you seem pretty shaky on
that. I guess, though, you'll pull through alive."
"Bobbie, you're my guiding angel," returned the elder boy yawning.
"When I make my pile and die rich I'm going to leave you all my
money."
"Great Hat! Hear him. Leave me your money! What do you suppose
I'm going to be doing while you're rolling up your millions? I intend to
be rich myself, thank you," retorted Bob, throwing down his book.
"Now for the plum-cake! You deserve about half the loaf, old man, but
I shan't give it to you, for it would make you sick as a dog, and then I'd
have you to take care of. Oh, I say, listen a minute! Isn't that the crowd
coming from the gym? Open the window and whistle to them. Tell 'em
to pile up here for a feed. And get your muscle to work on this olive
bottle, Van. I can't get the cork out."
CHAPTER II
A NARROW ESCAPE
The dreaded examinations came and went and, as Van Blake expressed
it, were passed with honor by Bobbie and with dishonor by himself.
After the last one was over it was with a breath of relief that the two
lads tossed pajamas and fresh linen into their suit-cases; collected
snow-shoes and sweaters; and set out on their New Hampshire visit.
It had been a late spring and therefore although the buds were swelling
and a few pussy-willows venturing from their houses the country was
still in the grip of winter; great drifts buried roadside and valley and
continued to obstruct those highways where travel was infrequent.

"There certainly is nothing very summerish about this New England
weather of yours, Bob," remarked Van, as, on alighting from the train
at Allenville, he buttoned closer his raccoon coat and stepped into the
waiting sleigh which had come to meet them.
"The State did not realize you were coming, old man; otherwise they
would have had some weather especially prepared for your benefit,"
Bob replied, springing into the sleigh beside his chum. "My, but this is
a jolly old pung! Hear it creak. I say," he leaned forward to address the
driver, "where did my father get this heirloom, David?"
"Law, Mr. Bob, this ain't your father's," David drawled. "He ain't got
anything but wheeled vehicles in the barn, and not one of 'em will be a
mite of use till April. I borrowed this turnout of the McMasters', who
live a piece down the road; the foreman, you know. It was either this or
a straight sledge, and we happened to be using the sledges collecting
sap."
"Are you sugaring off already?" questioned Bob with evident
disappointment. "I understood Father to say we'd get here in time to be
in on that."
"Bless your soul, Mr. Bob, you'll see all you want of it," was David's
quick answer. "There's gallons of sap that hasn't been boiled down