For the Honor of Randall Part 19

"Who's seen my purple cuff b.u.t.tons?" asked Frank.

"Haven't got 'em. I saw Wallops the messenger with a pair like 'em the other day, though," spoke Sid. "Wear the blue ones."

"I will not! I got the purple ones to match my tie. Oh, here they are. I put 'em in my Latin grammar to mark a page. Say, it's lucky I remembered."

"It's lucky some of you remember you've got heads," half growled Tom. "I never saw such old maids! Don't some of you want me to dab a little red on your cheeks?"

"Cut it out, and come on, you old Iambus," grunted Phil--grunted because he was stooping over to lace his shoes. "Aren't you coming, Tom?"

"Of course. But I want room to dress. You fellows clear out, and I'll follow soon enough."

"Where's the clothes brush?" demanded Frank, who was the nearest ready.

"Say, there's enough dust in this room to stock a vacuum cleaner. Whew!"

"The rug needs taking up and beating," commented Sid.

"Never!" cried Phil. "If we got it up it would fall apart, and we'd never get it down again. Let well enough alone. There, I guess I'm finished. How do I look?"

"Like one of the advertis.e.m.e.nts of college-built clothes from a back-woods tailor," said Tom. "You're too sweet to live! You'll have all the girls crazy about you."

"You're jealous," was the retort. "Get a move on, fellows."

"Oh, sit down and take it easy," advised Sid, who was struggling with a new tie in a stiff collar. "Whew! This is fierce. I can't make it slide."

"Put it out on first then," advised Tom with a grin.

Finally the three were arrayed to their own satisfaction, and prepared to depart.

"Shall we wait for you outside?" asked Phil of Tom.

"No, go on, get a car. I'll follow. I want to finish this chapter.

There's loads of time. You're too early. Sit down and cool off."

"What, and get all dust! I guess not!" cried Sid. "Come on, fellows."

"See you later?" asked Phil, as he went out.

"Later--yes," replied Tom, pretending to yawn and stretch, as though the whole affair bored him. And then, as the door closed, and he heard his chums walking down the corridor, he threw the book across the room, leaned forward with his head between his hands, his elbows on his knees, and gave way to bitter thoughts.

For Tom Parsons was not going on the May walk.

Many besides our three friends had fearfully, and more or less wonderfully, arrayed themselves that afternoon for the annual outing, and soon all roads seemed to be leading to Fairview. Sid, Phil and Frank were among the earliest arrivals, and soon found Ruth, Mabel and Helen, who were waiting for them.

"Where's Tom?" asked Ruth of her brother.

"Oh, he's coming later. He didn't want to tog up with us in the room.

Guess he's got a new suit. But where's Madge?"

There was an embarra.s.sed silence among the girls, and then Mabel said:

"She started out early, and wouldn't say where she was going. I thought she acted very strangely."

"Say, she and Tom are up to some joke!" declared Phil. "I thought there was something queer about Tom."

"Then we'll see 'em later," suggested Sid. "Come on, it's too nice to stand still."

They strolled on toward the clump of woods where the lunch was to be eaten--happy lads and gay la.s.sies with Springtime in their hearts.

And, back in the room of the four chums, sat a solitary figure--a figure on the old rickety sofa--a figure that stared moodily down at the faded rug--a figure that did not stir as the minutes were ticked off on the fussy little alarm clock.

Out on the campus sounded the calls of a crowd of lads at ball practice.

Farther off could be heard the cries of those who were leaping, running or throwing weights in antic.i.p.ation of the track games. But the figure in the room gave no heed to this.

Not moving, Tom continued to stare at nothing, and the bitterness of his spirit grew on him.

"I can't understand--I can't understand," he murmured, over and over again.

CHAPTER XIII

TOM SEES SOMETHING

"What do you suppose keeps him?" asked Sid.

"Who?" inquired Phil, as he strolled beside Helen Newton.

"Tom, of course. He ought to be here by this time."

"Maybe he missed a car," suggested Ruth.

"He's had time to get three or four," declared Frank. "I believe he's playing some joke on us."

"Then Madge Tyler is also," spoke Mabel Harrison. "I wonder if she----"

"There she is now!" suddenly exclaimed Helen.

"And someone is with her. It isn't----" began Ruth.

She stopped in sudden confusion, and all eyes were turned toward a little open place in the grove of trees, where two figures were seen--a youth and a maiden. And, though the girl was undoubtedly Madge, the youth was not Tom Parsons, and that fact held a world of meaning to all of them.

"It isn't Tom," finished Phil, after a moment of scrutiny. "Who is it!

He's got his back turned this way."

"Looks like Roger Barnes," remarked Sid.

"No, I saw Roger with Clare Hopkins," remarked Mabel, naming two of the students at the co-educational inst.i.tution. "He tried to get up a ball game for to-day, but none of the other boys would agree to play. It isn't Roger."