Rosemary Part 24

announced Fannie, addressing herself to Rosemary, "and Jack Welles is going to make himself awfully unpopular, if he isn't careful."

"Clean off the streets?" repeated Rosemary. "Why what do you mean?"

"There's been so many storms, they haven't been able to keep some of the streets clear of snow," explained Nina, biting into a cup cake, for Nina lunched almost exclusively on cake. "They've had gangs of men working, but before they get one snow carted away, another falls. And now the Common Council has decided to ask the high school boys to work after school. My father is a Councilman, and he told us all about the last meeting. They'll pay the boys and it will be a regular lark."

"Yes, if Jack Welles doesn't go and spoil everything," said Fannie darkly.

"How can he spoil everything?" Rosemary demanded.

She had not seen Jack so often once the school year was well under way. Football practice had absorbed him during the early fall and later came basketball. Other school and cla.s.s activities, too, claimed his attention, for Jack was popular and a good student as well. He was president of his cla.s.s, the Soph.o.m.ores, and had that year been appointed Student Advisor to the grammar school boys.

"How can Jack spoil things?" repeated Rosemary.

Fannie leaned across the table--she dearly loved to be important and now she had something to tell.

"It's like this," she began. "My brother told me. The Student Council had a letter from the Eastsh.o.r.e Common Council, saying they wanted volunteer snow workers among the high school boys. And the S.

C. called the presidents of the four cla.s.ses together and told them to go ahead and get the workers, twelve from each cla.s.s."

Fannie stopped and looked at Rosemary expectantly. Sarah's mouth was wide open and she was listening eagerly. Shirley had wandered away to play.

"Well?" said Rosemary sharply.

"Well," echoed Fannie disagreeably. "The boys made out their lists and when Jack read his he had asked the two Gordon boys, Jerry and Fred, and Eustice Gray and Norman c.o.x and Ben Kelsey. And Will says the president of the Student Council was simply furious."

Rosemary began to fold up the napkins and put them back in the box.

Will Mears was Fannie's brother and the other boys she knew only by sight.

"Why was Frank Fenton furious?" asked Sarah, delighting in the sound of the three F's, though quite unconscious she had used them.

"Oh, do be still!" Fannie tried to squelch the younger girl. "Frank was mad, of course, because the S. C. counted on having all the snow money for the dramatic fund. They want to put on a play this spring and Will says they haven't a cent in the treasury. And now Jack Welles goes and spoils a perfectly splendid chance to earn a lot of money."

"That's the third or fourth time you've said that about Jack," cried Rosemary, stung into speech at last. "What has he done to spoil anything? I don't see."

"Why I should think you would," said Fannie, while Nina nodded sagely. "The Gordon boys and Eustice and Norman and Ben are as poor as can be; they want the money for themselves, and Will says they jumped at the chance to earn it. Don't you see, it will keep that much out of the dramatic fund, and Jack could just as well have appointed boys who could have been glad to turn over the money to the school. Will calls it a disgusting lack of cla.s.s spirit."

Rosemary's blue eyes snapped and fire burned in her cheeks.

"There's nothing the matter with Jack Welles' cla.s.s spirit, Fannie Mears!" she cried. "I should think you would be ashamed to repeat anything like that, I don't care who said it."

"Well I'm not the only one who said it, or Will, either," declared Fannie, rising as the warning bell sounded. "The president of the Student Council told him what he thought of him, all right."

Inwardly seething, Rosemary managed to get away to her cla.s.s room without further argument. She had never liked Fannie Mears, she told herself and now she almost hated her. As for Will Mears, president of the High School Juniors, well he wasn't a bit better. What a disagreeable family the Mears must be!

It was cooking cla.s.s day, and Rosemary stayed almost an hour after school that night, "puttering" as Miss Parsons called it, about the school kitchen. Sarah and Shirley went home without her, and she was walking briskly along alone, tramping hardily through the snow late that afternoon, when Jack Welles overtook her.

"How's the soup?" he asked cheerfully, that being a stock question of his ever since the fateful Inst.i.tute dinner.

"How's the Student Council?" asked Rosemary.

Jack's open face changed.

"What do you know about the Student Council?" he said gruffly.

"Oh, I heard--something," replied Rosemary. "Was Frank Fenton unfair, Jack?"

"Well, he doesn't think so," said Jack, "I suppose you girls have been gossiping and you might as well get the story straight," he added.

Rosemary nodded eagerly.

"I hope the Gray boys and the others will shovel snow," she cried impulsively. "I don't give a fig for the old dramatic fund, Jack."

"I do," said Jack. "It's all right to turn the snow money into the fund and I've nothing to say against that. But when the Student Council kicks because five boys out of forty-eight want to keep what they earn, and they know they are putting themselves through school, I think it shows a contemptible, small spirit and I told Frank so to-night. You see, Rosemary," he went on a little more calmly, "there aren't a whole lot of ways a boy can earn money and go to school in a small town like this--nearly everyone tends to his own fires and sweeps off his own walks and runs his own errands. If we hadn't had one snow storm after another, there wouldn't have been this chance. And I purposely appointed these five boys because I know what they are up against. And by gum," he said forcibly if inelegantly, "on my squad they stay!"

"But can't the Student Council make you back down and appoint others?" asked Rosemary, glowing with excitement. "I thought the S.

C. could do anything in high school, Jack."

"They are pretty powerful," her companion admitted, "but they don't dare carry this to the faculty, because they'll look so small and Eustice Gray is in the direct line for one of the college scholarships. Every teacher on the faculty staff will stand by the boys--they're all fine students and making a stiff fight to get through school. You don't suppose Mr. Hamlin is going to think the dramatic fund is more important than shoes for Norman c.o.x, do you?"

Mr. Hamlin was the princ.i.p.al of the high school.

"But it can't be very pleasant for the boys," urged Rosemary, troubled.

"You've said it," confessed Jack gloomily. "I had a second fight there, for after the fellows heard the Student Council was raising a rumpus, they said they would get off my team and let others take their places. Norman said he guessed they could get independent jobs shoveling snow after school hours."

"Could they?" asked Rosemary.

"I suppose they could, but they won't if I have anything to say about it," declared Jack with what Doctor Hugh called his "bull-dog"

expression. "I was told to appoint a snow cleaning team and I've done it, and by gum my nominations stand. If the Student Council doesn't like 'em, they can appeal to the faculty--and they'll get what's coming to them! The town Council doesn't give a hoot where the money goes, all they want is to have the snow cleaned away. I told the fellows if they walked out, they made me just five short, for I wouldn't appoint anyone in their places. If they want to see the Soph.o.m.ore cla.s.s fall down on the job, all right. You watch my twelve names go through!"

Rosemary watched. So did all the high and half the grammar school, for word of the dispute, variously colored to suit different informants, had been noised around and the only persons in actual ignorance of the state of affairs were the high school faculty. The Student Council was desperately anxious that they should remain in that state, for there had been one or two previous clashes over the relative importance of the dramatic fund, and the members of the council had no wish to be accused of "forcing" any unfair demands.

So, as Jack had foreseen, his nominations were allowed to stand and the next afternoon, forty-eight laughing, shouting boys reported to Bill McCormack, bluff and kindly member of the Eastsh.o.r.e Common Council who would, in a larger munic.i.p.ality, have been called "Streets and Highways Commissioner" or by similar sonorous t.i.tle.

But before the boys met "Bill" in front of the town hall, the president of the Student Council, Frank Fenton, and Will Mears, president of the Junior cla.s.s, had held a conference with Mr.

Edmonds, the most influential member, some said, next to the president, Cameron Jordan, a cousin of the old and respected physician. The result of this conference was that Bill McCormack held in his fat, red hands a sheaf of papers which allotted the streets to the four cla.s.ses and took the decision quite away from him.

"I was told to give these papers to the heads of the gangs," said Mr. McCormack, smiling expansively. "Here ye are--Senior, Junior, Soph.o.m.ore, Freshman--them's your working papers, me lads, and now off with ye; the shovels ye'll be finding in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the hall."

Jack Welles glanced at the slip of paper handed him, folded it up and stuffed it in his pocket. As soon as his "gang" was fitted out with snow shovels, he marched them away in the wake of one of the lumbering wagons that was to carry the snow off to a vacant field on the outskirts of the town.

"What did we draw, Jack?" asked Norman c.o.x curiously.

"Plummers Lane," said Jack laconically.

Plummers Lane, was the nearest approach to a "slumming section" that Eastsh.o.r.e possessed. The idle, the shiftless and the vicious congregated there, living in tumbled down shacks in the winter and the middle of the streets, in summer. There were two factories, one a novelty works, the other a canning and candy factory and the "dump lot" bounded the Lane on the north and the jail on the south.

Altogether it was not the choicest portion which could fall to the lot of the young snow cleaners.

"It's enough to make you want to resign from the dramatic club!"

exclaimed Kenneth Vail, who, in common with the other boys, labored under no delusion that chance fortune had sent them to Plummers Lane.