Ned nodded. "I'm too tired to walk, though, Laurie. Guess I'll get a book and go over to the park. Or go down and jump in the river!"
"Fine idea!" scoffed Laurie. "What have you got against the river? It never did anything to you, did it?"
Ned, however, refused to smile. "You don't need to come along," he said. "I--I guess I'd rather be alone, Laurie."
"You will be, if you're going to jump in the river, partner! The water's a heap too cold to appeal to me. Well, cheer up. See you when we come out."
There was a holiday feeling in the air this morning that didn't promise well for recitations, and Mr. Brock's chemistry class was a sore trial to that gentleman. Yet, although he frowned often and sighed many despairing sighs, he made allowance for the prevailing mood of restlessness and exhibited unusual patience. And finally it was over and the class trooped out.
"You stay here," said Laurie, "and I'll run over and get a couple of books from the room. What do you want?"
"I don't care--anything," answered Ned, listlessly.
When Laurie went off, Ned seated himself on a step and gazed forlornly around him. Groups of boys stood on the walks in animated conversation. Near at hand, a half-dozen juniors were discussing the game avidly, drawing comforting conclusions from a comparison of the season's performances of Hillman's and Farview. Suddenly the prospect of sitting on a park bench with Laurie became utterly distasteful to Ned, and, with a hurried glance in the direction of East Hall, he arose and made his way along the drive and into Summit Street. There he turned to the left and walked quickly to the corner. At Washington Street another look behind showed that he had made his escape, and he heaved a sigh of relief and went on past the library and into Cumber Street, heading unconsciously toward the open country eastward of town.
When Laurie returned to School Hall with a book for Ned and a magazine for himself, he sat down and waited a few minutes, supposing that Ned would be back. When he didn't come, Laurie went over to School Park, thinking that he had perhaps grown tired of waiting in the yard. But no Ned was to be seen, and, puzzled but untroubled, Laurie dawdled into Pine Street. The white-and-red sign above the Widow Deane's little store shone bravely in the sunlight. For an hour Laurie enjoyed the society of Polly and Antoinette in the sunny garden, where, against the board fence, a clump of hardy chrysanthemums made a cheery showing of yellow and lavender. Antoinette had retired to winter quarters, which means that a gunny-sack and a length of old red carpet had been draped over her box. But just now the drapery was lifted, and Antoinette was doing great things to a very large cabbage-leaf. Towser had established himself in the sunshine atop the porch roof and gazed down benignly at the pair below.