It would not be edifying to follow Tom’s shuffling footsteps that afternoon, nor to enumerate the catalogue of unseemly phrase and vicious mischief which filled the balance of the day. He wound up his career of glory by one of the most contemptible things which he had ever done. He went up at dusk and tacked his quarantine sign to the outer gate of the Bennett place.
“Gee, I hope they’re all home,” he said.
They were all at home and Mrs. Bennett, whom he hated, was busy with preparation and happy anticipations for her unsuspecting son. That the wretched plan did not succeed was due to no preparatory omission on the part of Tom, but because something happened which changed the whole face of things.
[Chapter IV]
Camp Solitaire
Tom’s visit to the Library reminded him that it was here “them regiment fellers” met, and since it was near the Bennett place he decided to loiter thereabout, partly for the ineffable pleasure of beholding the side-tracking of Connover’s party, and partly in the hope of seeing Mr. Ellsworth again.
So he shuffled around a little before dark and did sentinel duty between the two places. He wanted something to eat very much indeed, and he surmised that such a sympathetic fellow as young Mr. Ellsworth would “give him the lend of a nickel” especially if he were tipped off in regard to the coming ball game.
Standing outside, Tom heard the uproarious laughter through the basement windows and wondered what it was all about. Strange that fellows could be enjoying themselves so thoroughly who were not up to some kind of mischief.
Presently, the basement door opened and the scouts began to come out. Tom loitered in the shadow across the way.
The first group paused on the sidewalk bent on finishing their discussion as to whether “whipping” was as good as splicing for two strands of rope. One boy insisted that splicing was the only way if you knew how to do it, but that you had to whittle a splicing needle.