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Updated: June 13, 2025
"I'll take nothing back!" sneered the other boy. "Then you'll take this!" retorted Dick, very quietly, in a cold, low voice. Prescott's fist flew out. It was not a hard blow, but it landed on the tip of Bert Dodge's nose. "You cur!" cried Dodge chokingly. "Wait until I get my coat off." "No; keep it on; I'm going to keep mine on," retorted Prescott. "Guard yourself, man!" "Jump in, Bayliss!
"If Gridley loses the game today," hinted Bayliss, "I suppose the fellows will all feel that it was because Prescott didn't go along. Then they'll all feel like roasting us." "Oh, bother what the High School ninnies think -or say," grunted Bert. Fifteen minutes later there was a loud popping sound.
Bert Dodge sulked along to school, alone that Friday morning. Bayliss, however, after a night of wakefulness, had decided to "eat crow." So, as Dick, Dave and Greg Holmes were strolling along schoolward, Bayliss overhauled them. "Good morning, fellows," he called, briskly, with an offhand attempt at geniality. All three of the chums looked up at him, then glanced away again.
He alighted from the car and shook hands with us. "Didn't see you, Knowles, at first," he said. "Saw Miss Morley here and thought she was alone. Was going to beg the privilege of taking her home in my car." Miss Morley answered promptly. "You may have the privilege, Doctor Bayliss," she said. "I accept with pleasure." Young Bayliss looked pleased, but rather puzzled. "Thanks, awfully," he said.
"Perhaps he didn't know you were comin'," observed Hephzy, cheerfully. "Won't you have another cup, Mrs. Bayliss? Or a cooky or somethin'?" The doctor's wife consented to the refilling of her cup. "I suppose what do you call them? cereals, are an American custom," she said, evidently aware that her hostess's feelings were ruffled. "Every country has its customs, so travelers say.
She didn't say who they were nor where they lived, but she did say she ran away from them to go on the stage as a singer and what trials and troubles she went through afterward. She told me that much and then she seemed sorry that she had. She made me promise not to tell anyone, not even you. I haven't, until now." Doctor Bayliss was sitting with a hand to his forehead.
Hunt, he’s got to learn that losing a war doesn’t mean that a man has lost the rest of his life. But the way he’s been acting these past months, Johnny might just lose it. Bayliss’ tongue is hanging out a yard or more he’s panting so hard to get back at you. That captain has heady ambitions under his hat, maybe like setting up here as a tinpot governor or something like.
"I'm taking the air," I answered. "It is good for me. I am enjoying the glorious English air old Doctor Bayliss is always talking about. Fresh air and exercise those will cure anything, so he says. Perhaps they will cure me. God knows I need curing." "Sshh! shh, Hosy! Don't talk that way. I don't like to hear you. Out here bareheaded and in all this damp! You'll get your death."
"Oh, we'll make somebody sweat for this outrage!" quivered Bert, his face dark and scowling, as he and Bayliss slowed up on a quiet side street. "There are laws in this land! We might even get damages out of someone!" "I feel as if I had collected about all the damage I want for a few days," muttered Bayliss, gazing down ruefully at his drenched clothing and water-logged shoes.
"But you came here saying that you were Jimmy Crocker." "Quite right. And that is where the plot thickens. I made Ann's acquaintance first in London and then on the boat. I had found out that Jimmy Crocker was the man she hated most in the world, so I took another name. I called myself Bayliss." "Bayliss!"
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