Football -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
Joe looked at the bag. “Well, what do you know?” he gasped. “By Jove,
I _am_ sorry, Harmon! I thought it was mine! Who’s got my bag? Here!”
He thrust the bag at Harmon so energetically that the latter failed to
grasp it. “Better hurry, old man! Your train’s going!”
“Thanks!” Harmon turned and started back. He would doubtlessly have
swung himself to the platform of the rear car had it not been for Bob’s
awkwardness. Bob was terribly sorry and apologetic about it afterwards!
Just as Harmon was free of the group, a clear path across the station
platform before him, Bob stepped directly in front of him! Of course
you know what happened then. Harmon dodged to the right and at the same
instant Bob stepped to the left, which didn’t better the situation the
least bit. Bob looked most embarrassed, and you could see that he felt
just like kicking himself. In fact, he assured them all afterwards that
he felt that way. But meanwhile he made the mistake of stepping back to
the right just as Harmon made a final despairing effort to get past him
on that side, and again they collided!
Harmon set his bag down then, smiled rather a sickly smile and watched
the train become smaller and smaller in the distance. Bob fairly
revelled in self-reproach and abjected himself to such an extent
that a heart of stone would have been moved to forgiveness. And as
Harmon’s heart wasn’t made of any such material he gave his attention
to assuring Bob that it didn’t really matter. Joe and Martin were most
regretful, and Joe tried to take all the blame. But Bob wouldn’t allow
that.
“No, if I hadn’t got in the way, like a blamed idiot, he’d have got it
all right,” he insisted. “You see, I thought he was coming over here
and so I stepped over there--like this--and he came the other way and I
tried to side-step him and--”
“It doesn’t matter a bit,” Harmon assured them, smiling quite
cheerfully now. “There’ll be another train pretty soon.”
“That’s so!” Evidently the idea hadn’t occurred to Bob before and he
welcomed it with enthusiasm. “Sure, there’s a train about six o’clock,
fellows!”
“Well, that’s nearly two hours,” said Joe. “Let’s put our bags inside
and find some seats. No use standing up all that time.”
“Oh, but you chaps needn’t wait around,” declared Harmon. “I wouldn’t
think of having you do that!”
The three looked at each other inquiringly. Then: “Can’t let you wait
around here all alone,” said Joe decidedly; “not after making you lose
your train like that. Bob, you and Martin go on up and take my bag
with you, and I’ll stay here.”
“Why not all go up?” asked Martin. “Harmon’s got nearly two hours to
wait. He might as well come along and be comfortable.”
“That’s the ticket!” exclaimed Bob. “Leave your bag here and ride up to
school with us, Harmon. We’ll show you around a bit and then we’ll go
up to my room or Joe’s and rest until about a quarter of an hour before
your train goes. And I’ll ride back with you!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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