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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Aw him!" snorted Billy Long, turning away in vexation. "Now, tell me," said the quick-minded Bobby Hargrew to Laura and Jess, with whom she chanced to be walking at the moment, "why it is that Billy has taken such a violent dislike to poor Purt of late? Why, he doesn't feel kindly enough toward him to send him another dead fish!"
"I shouldn't wonder if Margit flew the coop some day." "I am not sure, Miss Hargrew," said Mr. Mann, without a smile, "that I ought not to take you to task for your language. It really is inexcusable." "Oh, dear me, Mr. Mann, don't you begin!" begged the culprit "If I am academic in school in my speech, let me be relieved out of sessions, I pray." "But about Margit Salgo?" queried Laura.
"We must let the actors choose their own play as long as it is a proper one and abide for once by the decision of those of our friends who wish to be amused rather than educated." "He's half backing her up!" complained Dora. "Well, he has to pour oil on the troubled waters," whispered Laura. "Huh!" grumbled Bobby Hargrew.
"That's right," said the last member of the group; and this was a short and sturdy boy who had the same mischievous twinkle in his eye that Bobby Hargrew displayed. He and Bobby Hargrew were what hopeless grown folk called "a team!" When they were not hatching up some ridiculous trick together, they were separately in mischief.
I have a mind to get my hair cut short" "Don't you dare, Clara Hargrew!" Laura commanded. "You'd be sorry afterward and so would your father." Bobby would never do anything to hurt "Father Tom," as she always called Mr. Hargrew, so her enthusiasm for this suggested prank subsided.
"What would you like to have us play?" asked Bobby, daringly. "Julius Caesar? If we do, I want to play old Julius. He dies in the first act. The rest of us would be killed lingeringly by the audience, I know, before the last." "Miss Hargrew!" snapped the teacher. Then she remembered that this was not a recitation and she could not easily punish the girl.
"But that may be all explained in time," said Janet. "All right," grumbled Bobby Hargrew. "But suppose poor Chet has to lose fifty dollars?" "Father is going to take the bill to the bank to-morrow to see if they can explain the mystery," Laura said. "But that will not explain the mystery of the stranger." said Jess. "Why, he is a regular 'man of mystery, isn't he?" "Humph!" said Bobby.
You know the old parody on 'Lives of Great Men All Remind Us, don't you?" and she went on to quote: "'Lives of imbeciles remind us It may some day come to pass, We shall see one staring at us From our trusty looking-glass!" "Shucks!" responded Jess. "You'll get to be as bad as Bobby Hargrew with those old wheezes. But, did you ever see such a girl before?" "No," admitted Laura.
But the old professor was so terribly stern and strict that it took some courage to walk across the glade, where Barnacle was chewing fish-heads, and face the shabby old gentleman. "What, what, what?" snapped Professor Dimp, rising up from the log on which he had been sitting. "Girls from Central High, eh? Ha! Miss Belding yes; Miss Morse yes; Miss Hargrew yes. Well! what do you want?"
"How brave you were," murmured Jess Morse admiringly. "You've got a head on you, sure enough!" exclaimed Bobby Hargrew, while the Red Cross girl, blushing and with downcast eyes, began hastily to adjust her veil again. "Oh, it was nothing," murmured Janet. "Tell it to Lily. Here comes Lily Pendleton," said Jess, smiling again. "She won't think it was nothing."
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