The Rushton Boys at Rally Hall Part 10

"Quick," he urged, "get out of the window. They'll be up in a minute."

The kitchen extension was just under the window of the room. Teddy lifted the screen and dropped to the roof. From there it was only twelve feet to the ground and he made the drop in safety. No one saw him but Martha, and that faithful soul could be depended on to keep silent.

Mr. Mansfield Rushton had already left for the city, but Mrs. Rushton and Uncle Aaron came hurrying up the stairs. The former was in a flurry of excitement, which increased materially when she looked into Uncle Aaron's room and saw the awful wreck that had been made of it.

"Oh, whatever in the world has happened now?" she gasped.

As for Aaron, he could hardly speak at all. He was speechless with rage, as he picked up his clothes and handled them gingerly.

"Spoiled, utterly spoiled," he spluttered. Then, he caught sight of Bunk in one corner of the hall.

"It's that confounded cat," he shouted, as he made a kick at him that missed him by a hair. "He got tangled up in the fly paper and carried it all over the room."

But just then he saw the bit of meat that had tempted the unwary Bunk.

He picked it up and looked hard at it.

"Um-hum," he muttered, and the steely look came into his eyes.

He turned sharply on Fred.

"Where's Teddy?" he asked.

"He doesn't seem to be around here anywhere," replied Fred. "I'll see if I can find him downstairs."

And he went down with alacrity, but carefully refrained from coming up again. He remembered that he must see Bob Ellis at once. He opened the front door and pa.s.sed swiftly round the corner.

"He'll find him," growled Aaron bitterly. "Oh, yes, he'll find him! You won't see either of those boys till lunch time.

"I tell you, Agnes," he went on fiercely, "one of those young scamps is just as bad as the other. Teddy starts the mischief and Fred does all he can to shield him."

"You don't know yet that Teddy had anything to do with it," protested Mrs. Rushton, in a tone which she tried to make confident, but with only partial success.

"No, of course not," he answered sarcastically, "he's never to blame for anything. All the same I'll bet my life that he and n.o.body else is at the bottom of this. How did this meat get up here, if somebody didn't bring it?"

"Perhaps the cat brought it up," suggested Mrs. Rushton desperately.

Then, feeling the weakness of her position, she went on hurriedly:

"But now, I must get busy and clear up this awful mess. Give me those clothes, and Martha and I will fix them up right away."

But though the damage to the clothes was soon repaired, storm clouds were still hovering over the household when Teddy came in to lunch.

He loafed in with an elaborate pretense of unconcern. Nothing was said at first, and he was beginning to hope when Uncle Aaron suddenly blurted out:

"What's the matter with your hand?"

Though startled, Teddy lifted up his left hand.

"Why, I don't see that anything's the matter with it," he replied, holding it out for examination.

"I mean the one you're hiding under the table," went on Aaron stonily.

"Oh, that one?" stammered Teddy. "Why, it's scratched," he added brightly, as he studied it with an expression of innocent surprise.

There was a dead silence. Teddy, not caring to look anywhere else, kept gazing at his hand, as though it were the most fascinating object in the world.

"Oh, Teddy!" moaned his mother.

And then Teddy knew that the game was up.

"Honestly, Mother," he stammered, "I didn't mean to--that is I meant to make the cat jump on the fly-paper, but I didn't think he'd----"

Here was Uncle Aaron's cue.

"Didn't think!" he stormed. "Didn't think! If you were my boy----" And here he launched into a tongue lashing that outdid all his previous efforts. It seemed to Teddy an age before he could escape from the table, carrying away with him the echo of Uncle Aaron's final threat to have it out with his father when he came home that night.

It was the last straw. Mr. Rushton's indecision vanished at the recital of Teddy's latest prank. Before he slept that night he had written to Dr. Hardach Rally, asking for his catalogue and terms, intimating that if these proved satisfactory, he would send his two boys to Rally Hall.

CHAPTER XI

THE ROBBERY

The answer came back promptly.

In addition to the catalogue and pictures of the Hall and grounds, Dr.

Rally wrote a personal letter. It was in a stiff, precise handwriting that seemed to indicate the character of the man.

He would be very glad to take the Rushton boys under his care. He thought he was not exaggerating when he said that the standard of scholarship at Rally Hall was not exceeded by any inst.i.tution of a similar kind in the entire state. Their staff of instructors was adequate, and their appliances were strictly up to date. There was a good gymnasium, and the physical needs of the boys were looked after with the same care as their mental and moral requirements.

But what he laid especial stress upon was the discipline. This came under his own personal supervision, and he thought he could promise Mr.

Rushton that there would be no weakness or compromise in this important particular.

"That's the stuff!" broke in Uncle Aaron, gleefully rubbing his hands.

"What did I tell you? Hardach Rally is the one to make boys mind."

Fred and Teddy failed to share his enthusiasm, and Mrs. Rushton shivered slightly.

But, taken as a whole, the letter met the views of Mr. Mansfield Rushton, and when the family council broke up, it was definitely settled that the boys should go to Rally Hall.

Old Martha was "dead sot," as she put it, against the whole plan.

"Ain' no good goin' to k.u.m uv it," she grumbled to herself, as she jammed her hands viciously into the dough. "House'll seem like a graveyard wen dose po' boys get shunted off ter dat ole bo'din' school.

Like enuf dey won't giv' um half enuf ter eat. An' all on 'count uv dat ole w'ited sepulker," she wound up disgustedly.

But Uncle Aaron, wholly indifferent to Martha's views even if he had known them, was in high feather. He had carried his point, and, in the satisfaction this gave him, he became almost good-natured. He could even allow himself a wintry smile at times, as he reflected that the boys--the "pests," as he called them to himself--were to get a taste of the discipline that their souls needed.