CHAPTER IV
FOUND--A ROOMMATE
"Now I guess you'll behave yourself," exclaimed the landladytriumphantly. "Here's the young man that's taken the room."
"He hasn't any right to it," declared the boy on the trunk, grippingthe bag on his knees more firmly. "You gave me the refusal of it! Itold you I'd be back! It's my room, and I mean to keep it!"
Ira looked inquiringly at Mrs. Magoon, but she silently referred him tothe claimant in the doorway.
"What's wrong?" Ira asked of the latter.
"Why, I came here this afternoon and looked at this room and I askedthis--this lady if she'd give me the refusal of it until evening andshe said she would. I agreed to come back in any case and say whetherI'd take it or not. And now, when I send my trunk here, she tells meshe's rented it to you!"
"I gave him no refusal," exclaimed Mrs. Magoon irately. "He said he'dbe back, yes, but he didn't know whether he wanted it or didn't wantit. And I can't be losing the chance to rent my rooms while he's makingup his mind."
"Well, if you didn't have a refusal," said Ira mildly, "I don't seewhat claim you have. I found the room for rent and took it thisafternoon, and paid two weeks in advance. I'm sorry, but I guess you'llhave to look somewhere else."
"I have looked!" cried the other. "There aren't any rooms left. This isall there is. I've been all over the crazy place."
"Oh, I guess you can find one tomorrow," said Ira soothingly. "Whydon't you get a lodging for tonight somewhere and then start fresh inthe morning? I've got a list of houses here----"
"I've been all through the list. Everyone's full up. Anyway, this is myroom, and I mean to have it. She _did_ give me the refusal of it, andshe knows plaguey well she did!"
"The idea!" exclaimed Mrs. Magoon in shrill tones. "Calling me a liarto my face, are you? If you don't get right out of here this veryminute I'll call a policeman, I will so!"
"Wait a minute," counselled Ira. "He didn't mean it that way. Now Itell you what we'll do." He glanced across the corridor to where a doorhad just opened to emit a large youth who was now regarding them withhis hands in his pockets and a broad smile on his face. "You let thischap and me talk it over quietly, Mrs. Magoon. We'll settle it betweenus. There's no reason to get excited about it, is there? Just you go ondown, ma'am, and it'll be all right."
"There's only one way it can be settled," replied the landlady irately,"and that's for him to take himself and his trunk out of my house!"
"But there's no hurry, Mrs. Magoon. Besides, we're disturbing theothers with all this racket. Shove that trunk inside, please, and we'llclose the door first of all."
Mrs. Magoon grunted, hesitated and finally went grumbling off down thestairs, and Ira, taking affairs into his own hands, pushed the smalltrunk out of the way of the door, its owner grudgingly vacating hisstrategic position atop, and closed the portal, to the disappointmentof the neighbour across the way.
"Now," said Ira pleasantly, "sit down and be comfortable. Try thearmchair. What's your name? Mine's Rowland."
"Mine's Nead," replied the other, not very amiably. "Names haven'tanything to do with it, though."
"Just wanted to know what to call you. Now, honest-to-goodness, Nead,did Mrs. Magoon say she'd hold this room until you had decided?"
"She did! If it's the last word I ever utter----"
"All right! And, if you don't mind telling me, how much were you to payfor it?"
"Thirteen dollars and a half a month."
Ira did some mental calculating and smiled. "That's about three dollarsa week, isn't it?" he asked. "You're certain that was the price?"
"Of course I'm certain. Three dollars was all I wanted to pay, and Itold her so. She wanted four at first. Four dollars for this--this oldpoverty-stricken attic!"
"Oh, I wouldn't be hard on it," said Ira pleasantly. "I like it prettywell."
"But it isn't yours! Now you look here, Boland----"
"Rowland. And don't let's have any melodrama, please. We can come to asettlement if we don't shout, I guess. What you agreed to and what Mrs.Magoon agreed to is no business of mine. That's between you two. Shesays the room is mine. You say it's yours. I've got it!"
"You haven't any right----"
"Well, there's the right of possession," chuckled Ira. "Mind you, I'minclined to believe your account of what took place, because--well,I'm beginning to doubt Mrs. Thingamabob's--er--memory. But I think youleft it pretty late to decide, Nead. If I'd been Mrs. Magoon I'd haveconsidered myself released from that refusal by six o'clock; by seven,anyway. You couldn't have got here until half-past, I guess."
"I had to get something to eat and then find a man to fetch mytrunk----"
"Yes, but you could have dropped around before and told her you'dtake it. You see, Nead, if you hadn't wanted it, and she had stood byher bargain until nearly eight, she might not have rented it at all.There's that to consider."
"Oh, you make me tired! You talk like a--like a lawyer! She said Icould have the room and I've come for it and that's all there is to it!"
"Well, what about me?" inquired Ira mildly.
"You can find another one. You can do what you told me to do. If youthink it's so easy, just take a try at it!"
"If I thought you really had a right to this room I'd do it," answeredIra, "but I don't. At least, not a convincing one. Tell you, though,what I will do, Nead. I'll get Mrs. Magoon to fix up some sort of a cotor something and you can stay here until tomorrow. It's pretty late togo room hunting now and that's a fact. Or maybe she has another roomthat she will let you have overnight. We'll go down and ask her."
"But I tell you it's my room, Boland! I don't care whether you thinkI have any right to it or not. I know that I have. I know that I wasgiven a refusal of it until evening----"
"What do you call evening?" interrupted Ira.
"Oh, if you're going to split hairs----"
"I'm not, but if I said evening I'd have some time like sunset in mind.The fact is, Nead, you didn't make sure that there was nothing betteruntil just before you came around here. And if you had found anythingbetter you would never have shown up here again. And you know that'sso, too. I'm perfectly willing to share the room with you tonight,but I'm not going to get out of it. I'm sorry the misunderstandinghappened, but it isn't any fault of mine. Now, what do you say tomaking the best of things and bunking out here until morning?"
Nead observed Ira gloweringly, and for a long moment made no answer,and in that moment Ira had a good look at him. He was at least a fullyear younger than Ira, a thin, rather peevish looking youth with apoor complexion. His features were not bad, and he had rather niceeyes, but there was something unpleasant about his expression. Hewore good clothes, but wore them carelessly, and Ira noted that histan shoes looked as if they had not seen polish for many days. On thewhole, Ira felt no enthusiasm about having Nead for a roommate evenovernight.
"Well, I'll stay here, I suppose," said Nead ungraciously. "But I'm notgiving up my claim on the room. Tomorrow I mean to go to the Principaland tell him about it. I guess he will see that I get what belongs tome."
"All right! That's settled for the present, anyway. Now I'll go downand interview Mrs. Magoon. If she hasn't an empty room she can probablyfind us a cot or a mattress. You can come along if you like," he endedquestioningly.
But Nead shook his head. "She will only get mad again if I go," hesaid. "Besides," he added, tossing his hat to the table and stretchinghimself more comfortably in the plush chair, "it's not up to me. I'm athome already."
"Glad you feel that way," replied Ira gravely. "I'll be back in ashake."
He found Mrs. Magoon more complaisant than he had expected. There was,she recalled, a cot in the attic, but he would have to bring it downhimself. And having an extra person in the room would be fifty cents aday. Ira, however, gently but firmly negated that, pointing out thatshe had got herself into the fix and that it was nothing to do withhim, and finally the landlady agreed to waive remuneration. Ten minuteslater, not very ent
husiastically aided by Nead, he had the cot set up.There was a rather sketchy mattress on it and Mrs. Magoon grudginglyfurnished two sheets and a blanket. By that time Nead had got over hisgrouch to some extent and was displaying a few human qualities.
"I thought I was going to have a room in one of the dormitories," heexplained, divesting himself of his outer clothing and depositing ithelter-skelter around the room. "I wouldn't have come if I'd known Ihad to room off the campus. Why, you can get a fine study in LeonardHall for a hundred and twenty-five for the year, and that's only aboutthree dollars a week. They ought to have enough dormitories here andnot make fellows live around in dives like this. Gee, some of theprices they talked today would make your hair stand up! One place Iwent to asked six dollars for a room not half the size of this. It wasfurnished, though, which you can't say of this place. She's put somemore things in here since I saw it, though."
"Bought 'em myself," said Ira.
"Bought them! But they look second-hand!"
"N-no, I don't guess so. Third-hand, maybe, or fourth, but hardlysecond, Nead. Still, they're all right, aren't they? How do you likethe window seat?"
"Window seat? Is that what you call it?" Nead laughed. "Say, what's thematter with it? Why does it shoot out like that?"
"It used to be straight," answered Ira soberly, "but it's rather oldand has rheumatism. That explains the crook in it."
"Huh! It looks mighty silly. If you expect me to buy this trash off youyou've got another guess coming."
"I don't, thanks. It's not for sale. Especially the window seat. I'msort of fond of that." He chuckled. "It's so--so foolish looking!"
Nead viewed him in puzzlement. "Well, if you like foolish things, allright," he said finally, dipping into his bag for his pyjamas. "Idon't, though. Say, where do you come from?"
"Maine. How about you?"
"Buffalo."
"Dakota?" inquired Ira blandly.
"Dakota! Of course not, you idiot! There isn't any Buffalo in Dakota.New York, of course."
"There used to be. Maybe they're all killed now, though. Buffalo'squite a big place, I suppose."
"It's big enough, anyway. And it's the best city in the country."
"Sort of like this place, then, I guess."
"_What!_"
"Well, you said it was a city in the country, didn't you?" asked theother innocently. "And that's what this is. I'd call it that, at least."
"You go and see Buffalo some time," advised Nead disgustedly. "I guessyou live in the country, all right." He grinned at the nightgown thatIra was getting into. "Don't they have pyjamas up in Maine?"
"Not many. There's a few raccoons left, though."
"Oh, gee, you're a smart guy, aren't you? Well, I'm going to turn in.Hope you'll find that cot comfortable, but it doesn't look it!"
"Oh, you're taking the bed, are you?"
"Sure," chuckled Nead. "It's mine, isn't it?"
"It's yours for tonight," was the answer. "If I have the nightmare,just yell. I usually wake up. Good night."
Ira slept soundly in spite of the discomforts of that wobbly, creakingcot, and when he awoke the early sunlight was slanting in at thewindows behind the new curtains. Across the room Nead was still asleep.Reference to his watch showed the time to be but a few minutes pastsix. Ira turned over stiffly and tried to slumber again, but after tenminutes of unsuccessful effort he gave it up, rolled over on his back,put his arms over his head, fixed his gaze on an interesting crackthat travelled from one side of the ceiling to the other with as manyramifications as a trunk-line railway and faced the problem presentedby the unconscious form on the bed.
There was a freshness and coolness in the morning air that made forwell-being, and Ira felt extremely kindly toward the world, evenincluding Nead and the pugnacious Gene Goodloe. He wondered whetherthe latter would see fit to follow up the little affair of yesterday,and remembered that he hadn't sent him word of his whereabouts. Hewould write Goodloe a note as soon as he got dressed. As far as hewas personally concerned, he was ready to call quits. It was much toowonderful a day for fighting! Then he speculated about Mart Johnstonand wondered whether Mart would look him up. He didn't care a wholelot. Mart was a cheerful sort of idiot, but he wasn't exactly restful!And Mart had so many friends, besides that chap "Brad," that it wasn'tlikely he would recall the existence of the boy who was thinking of himexcept, perhaps, to laugh at him. And, finally, there was Nead.
Nead was a problem, and Ira scowled at the crack in the ceiling andtried to solve it. Perhaps, after all, Nead did have a good claim onthat room. Ira tried to see the affair from Nead's point of view. Itwas rather puzzling. He didn't quite know what he ought to do. Ofcourse, he might follow Nead's idea and leave the decision to thefaculty, but it seemed a trivial affair to bring to its attention. Orhe might----
He brought his gaze suddenly from the ceiling and stared blankly atthe window for a moment. Then he turned and regarded the sleepingcountenance of the boy across the room. In slumber Nead didn't lookso unpleasant, he thought. And living alone would be, perhaps, ratherlonesome. Certainly, could he have his choice of roommates the choicewouldn't fall of Nead, but he couldn't. And maybe Nead would improve onacquaintance. Ira had already discovered that first impressions arefrequently erroneous. There was, too, the advantage of having someoneshare the expense, although Ira wasn't greatly concerned about that.He weighed the question for some time, lying in bed there, and finallymade up his mind. He would make the proposition to Nead. If Nead wasn'tagreeable, why, Nead could find another room. Ira considered that hewould then have done all that was required of him. He plunged out ofbed and, gathering up towel and sponge and soap, made his descent onthe bathroom.
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