by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER VI OLD KENTUCKY
After a futile search for Ballard, Johnny wandered back to the Blue Moon.The Blue Moon was Johnny's latest financial venture in a strange andtroubled world. It promised to be a grand flop and Johnny was dulyunhappy about it.
The establishing of the Blue Moon had been a suggestion of Johnny'sgrandfather. The old man was seldom wrong. This time, however, it didseem that he had erred.
It had started with Johnny's determination to find his young Kentuckyfriend a job, anything at all that would enable him to earn money forfood and lodging. At first it had seemed simple enough. In the end itproved impossible. Everything was taken.
"Way to get a job these days," Johnny's grandfather had said, "is to makeone for yourself."
"Sure," Johnny grinned, "but how?"
"Not so hard as it might seem," the old man rumbled. "I've been thinkingabout it for quite a spell. You know college boys like a place to gatherand talk things over, have a cup of coffee or hot malted, sort of agathering place of the clan."
"I know," Johnny agreed.
"I've been watching them. They wander down town, go in here, go in there,gather in places, not so bad, not so good either, little gambling, slotmachines and all that, little bad language from rough town folks, allthat sort of thing. If I had a boy away from home, I'd like him in abetter place. So why not, Johnny?" The old man leaned forward eagerly.
"Why not what?" Johnny asked.
"Why not turn that abandoned bowling alley building just off the campusinto a sort of student's retreat, place where they can buy little thingsthey need, sit down for a hot drink, gather around for a bit ofconversation, all that.
"I've got the fixtures for you, took them on a bad debt. They're instorage. I'll finance it for you. Make a job for both you and Ballard.What do you say?"
"Grand!" Johnny had all but hugged the old man.
They had worked hard to make the place attractive, Johnny and Ballardhad. Jensie had added a feminine touch, with a picture or two and coloredcurtains. She had imported for them a southern negro cook who could makefamous little meat pies and apple turn overs, the sort that melt in yourmouth.
The place was, Johnny decided, to have very few rules, one was that thiswas a place for men only. Perhaps this rule was a mistake. One thing wassure, the student body had not, as yet, found their way in any greatnumbers to the Blue Moon, as Johnny and Jensie had named it. The placegave promise of being a prodigious failure.
"I suppose the boys like to wander down town and fill their eyes with thebright light of neon signs," Johnny told himself gloomily, as havingentered the big, front room of the place, he prodded the fire, thrust inthree large logs, then seated himself for a short spell of gloomymeditation.
This meditation was broken in upon by Jensie who thrusting her head in atthe open door said, "Johnny, do you think Ballard could have lit out forour native hills?"
"Don't know," was Johnny's slow reply. "Guess not though. Probably justwent for a long walk to wear off his grief at dropping that ball. Come onin and have a meat pie an' a cup of coffee. It's on the house."
"Can't, Johnny."
"Why not?"
"Rules, Johnny."
"Hang the rules!" Johnny exploded. "We made 'em. We can break 'em."
"Besides," his voice dropped to a disconsolate note, "I think the placeis a flop."
"No! It can't be. It mustn't be," Jensie exclaimed.
"You can hang a hollow log up in a tree," was Johnny's strange reply,"but you can't make a squirrel choose it for a nest. Anyway come on in.I'm sure the coffee is still hot."
It was. They drank three cups apiece and felt better, much better. Twobanjos lay on the shelf back of the counter. Taking up one of theseJensie put a hand on the counter, gave a little spring, and there shewas, seated on the counter as she had been many a time in Cousin Bill'sstore down in the Cumberland mountains.
She touched the strings and at once, strange, quaint mountain melodiesbegan pouring forth on the still night air. They were alone, just Johnnyand the girl. But not for long. The door was open. The thrum-thrum-thrumof the banjo carried far. Into the dim lit room, shadowy figures likedark ghosts began to glide. One by one, each in his corner, they came torest. Johnny could not see their faces. He could guess who they were andwas glad. It promised well for the future of the Blue Moon.
Then a tall, slim, slouching figure appeared. Both Johnny and Jensierecognized him at a glance. Johnny felt a wave of warmth creep over him.Jensie gulped, paused, then played on.
"Here, gimme that thar banjo," drawled a low, melodious voice. "Blame me,if you ain't the sorriest banjo picker I mighty nigh ever heard." It wasBallard.
Jensie did not give up the banjo. Instead, she reached over, took downthe second banjo, then slid over, making a place for Ballard beside her.
"Come on, boy," she whispered, "let's give 'em a little touch of oldKentucky."
A moment more and two banjos were thrumming where one had been before,and two melodious voices were drawling the words of "Kentucky Babe."
The sound carried farther now. New recruits to the voluntary audiencewere arriving. Some were boys and some girls. Two gray-haired professorssidled into a corner. Rules? Tonight there were no rules. They had lostthe first big game of the season. One and all they were in need ofconsolation. They were getting it from these mountain singers.
From "Kentucky Babe" the melodious pair went to "Moonlight on the Wabash"and "Springtime in the Rockies." Then, with a sudden low strumming ofstrings, they drifted away into some sweet, haunting melody of themountains, a song without words, never written down but loved andremembered by every new mountain generation.
A hush fell over the audience as it ended. The hush deepened as thestrings took up an old, old refrain and the untrained melodious voicesbegan: "The sun shines bright on my old Kentucky home."
The hush continued all through the song. Surely no audience had everaccorded a more perfect reception. For a full moment there was silence.Then a voice exclaimed:
"Yea, Kentucky! Yea! Yea! Old Kentucky!"
Instantly the throng was on its feet as the rafters rang with the shout:
"Kentucky! Old Kentucky!"
Johnny choked something down his throat. Perhaps it was his heart. By OldKentucky, he knew they meant Ballard. The name would stick. Ballard wasmade for life. So too he hoped, was the Blue Moon. He touched a switch.Instantly like a smile from Heaven the light at the center of the ceilingbeamed down upon them. Johnny found himself looking into a half hundredsmiling faces. The team was there, almost to a man. Some of the girlswere there. Those professors and six strangers completed the list.
But here was Artie Stark. He was on his feet. He was speaking: "Folks,this is to be a pep meeting, not a funeral!" Instant applause. "What weneed to do is find out what it takes to win next Saturday's game. I'lltell you." Artie's round freckled and usually smiling face was serious."I'll tell you what we need. It's practice! How can we win? By gettingout on the air! Basketball! That's it. Basketball on the football field.That takes practice, hours and hours of practice. I know what you'regoing to say, 'Where's the time? All right for you,' you'll say, 'youdon't have to work, Artie.' Look!" Artie broke short off to allow hiseyes to circle the crowd. "Who's the best ball carrier we've got thisyear? Who's the artful dodger? There he is!" He pointed straight atBallard. "Old Kentucky. That's who it is!" Once again the crowd cheered,this time long and huskily. Ballard turned red, struggled with somethingin his throat, made a few gurgling sounds, then sat there in silence.
"What does he need?" Artie demanded.
"He needs practice, to become air-minded. That's what it will take towin! And practice, that's what he's going to get. I'm going to serve upchocolate sodas, banana splits, and ham sandwiches in this old Blue Moonof Johnny's. I don't have to work but I'm going to, for good oldHillcrest and all she stands for."
"No, I--" Ballard was on his feet. It matters little what
he meant tosay. Wild cheers drowned all his efforts at speech.
As for Johnny, his head was in a whirl. Artie Stark was to be his aid atthe Blue Moon! Artie, the most popular boy in the whole school! What aboost the old Blue Moon was going to get!
An hour later, when arrangements had all been made for the future and thecrowd had melted away, Johnny was preparing to throw the light switch,lock the door and go home, when his attention was attracted by somestranger who still lingered in the shadows.
Wonder what he wants, Johnny thought. There was something familiar aboutthe stooping shoulders, the large, dark glasses of the stranger."Did--did you want something?" he asked hesitatingly.
"Yes I--" the stranger came forward. "You may have forgotten. It's beenquite a while Johnny, but I--"
"Good grief!" Johnny exclaimed. "It's Panther Eye! My old pal PantherEye!" Next instant he was gripping the other boy's hand until it hurt.
