“Show ’em to me. I’ll pitch into ’em,” rejoined Dick, hopefully. “I’ll come over to-morrow noon, and you and I together will fetch ’em, see if we don’t.”
He met Tom Lawrence next, and was quite taken aback by a prompt, decided “Not by a long shot!”
He had felt sure of Tom. How he did coax and persuade! What inducements he offered! How skilfully he parried every excuse! till at last Tom wound up with,—
“For pity’s sake, hush up! Go it is. You’re dead set, now, Dick, since you ‘begun over,’ and you ain’t none the worse for it either.”
Wasn’t that a compliment worth having?
“And I shall depend on you to bring Jack Mullin,” said Dick. “He and some of the other boys do just about as you say.”
Tom straightened as proudly as Will ever did. It is a weakness of human nature, generally, to prefer leading to being led.
“They’ll be on hand, trust me,” he said; and Dick went his way, so thoroughly happy he had to turn a somerset every other step. He must run around and see Robert Rand; but Rob wouldn’t care a straw,—he never said anything any way.
What was Dick’s astonishment when Rob declared his intention of leaving Sabbath School altogether. It took him so completely by surprise he could not think of a thing to say; he had never dreamed of opposition in that quarter, and just did the very first thing his Master put it into his heart to do. He threw both arms around his friend’s shoulder, and said very earnestly, “I’m so sorry, Rob, because I’ve been hoping this great while you’d be a Christian, too.”
And then he stood back, utterly confounded, to see the usually impassive Robert hurry off into the orchard and fling himself down on the grass, sobbing like a child. He followed him, half-frightened, half-hopeful. “What is it, Rob? Tell a fellow, can’t you?”