Arthur Trevor’s father was a lawyer. Like[10] the parents of most of Art’s companions, he lived in the best part of Scottsville. Here, on Elm Street, the trees were large; the residences were of brick, with wide porches; gardeners saw to the lawns, and nearly every home had a new automobile4 garage. Therefore, the boys living here—although they thought themselves neither better nor worse than other boys—were usually known as the “Swells5” or the “Elm Street boys.” As a matter of fact they were just as freckled6 of face, as much opposed to “dressing up,” as full of boy ambitions and with nicknames just as outlandish as any Goosetown kid.
But the Goosetown boys did not take that view of things. In Goosetown there were no automobiles7. Houses were decorated with “lady finger” vines. While there were many gardens, these were devoted8 mainly to cabbages and tomatoes. If the lads living here had taken more interest in their homes and less in playing hooky they might have felt less bitter toward their supposed rivals. They came to understand this in time, too, but this was not until the Boy Scout movement swept through Scottsville.
Although the two crowds did not mix, and[11] seldom came in contact, in some mysterious boy way each contrived9 to keep well advised of the doings of the other. For instance, Art Trevor, Frank Ware10, Sam Addington and Colfax Craighead, although busy making aeroplanes in the loft12 of the Trevor garage, were able to discuss the latest Goosetown gossip—how the gang playing cards under the big sycamore beyond the railroad bridge had quarreled with Nick Apthorp because he broke a bottle of beer, and had ducked him below the river dam. This news had become gossip because Nick’s head had come in contact with a submerged log and he had been rescued barely in time to escape drowning.
On the other hand, the latest bit of news from Elm Street to reach Goosetown created a real sensation. Nick Apthorp, who had astonished his Goosetown gang-mates by violating precedent13 and doing several hours’ actual work (he had accepted an afternoon’s job of distributing free samples of soap in the Elm Street district) was partly excused by his associates when he turned over to them a hand-printed circular. This he had stolen from the door of the Trevor garage. With the circular and some of the perfumed soap that had been[12] entrusted14 to him, of which he had appropriated half, Nick somewhat placated15 his jeering16 gang-associates.
“Well, I guess there’ll be somethin’ doin’ now!” chuckled18 Mart Clare. “An’ shyin’ their keester right into our own bailiwick, too. What d’ye think o’ that?”
“Rich!” chuckled Jimmy Compton. “A gran’ show free gratis19 fur nothin’. Don’t fergit the day an’ date!”
“They must be achin’ fur trouble,” suggested Henry or “Hank” Milleson. “I reckon if we went over to Elm Street fur a little game o’ poker20 they’d put the police on us. And fur them swells to be a-plannin’ to come over to Sycamore Pasture” (Hank called it “paster”) “to pull off a toy airyplane show, don’t mean nothin’ but defyin’ us. Ever’ one of ’em, from little Artie Trevor down to Coldslaw Bighead knows that. But say, kiddos,” went on Hank as he paused in the shuffling21 of a deck of greasy22 cards, for several of the gang were whiling away the sleepy June afternoon in the shade of the same big sycamore, “I got a hunch23. Them kids are wise. They’re on. They ain’t comin’ over here ’less they’re fixed[13] fur trouble. I’ll bet you they got somethin’ up their sleeves. An’ I’ll say this: Artie an’ his friends ain’t no milksops, ef they do run to makin’ toys. They ain’t got no right to come here a-buttin’ in, but ef they do, an’ it comes to a show-down who’s boss, an’ I got anything to do with the dispute, I ain’t a-goin’ to figure on puttin’ anybody down fur the count by tappin’ him on the wrist.”
“It’d be a crime to do it,” sneered24 Jimmy Compton, whose only activity, aside from flipping25 trains and fishing occasionally, was the collection and delivery of linen26 that his widowed mother washed. “I’ll show you what I think o’ them swells when I meet ’em. Meanwhile, here’s my sentiments.”
As he spoke27, Jimmy turned from the card-playing group squatted28 on the grass, and without rising, took from his mouth a quid of tobacco and contemptuously flung it at the near-by sycamore. There it squashed against the circular that Nick Apthorp had stolen from Trevor’s garage. This, in derision, had been hung against the tree trunk.
The poster, the cause of the gang’s resentful comment, made this announcement:
[14]
First Monthly Tournament
Young Aviators Club
Toy Aeroplane Flying For
Distance and Altitude,
Sycamore Tree Pasture,
Saturday 2 P. M. Prizes.
Admission Free
Arthur Trevor, President.
Jim Compton’s moist quid, for which he had now substituted a cigarette borrowed from Matt Branson, splattered against the words “Free Admission.”
“I reckon that’s about right,” yawned Matt. “’Cause there ain’t goin’ to be no free admission. I got a notion to be doorkeeper an’ collect a black eye ur a punched nose from ever’ one ’at can’t give me the high sign.”
“Well,” snorted Hank Milleson, resuming the shuffling of the dog-eared cards. “All I got to say is: ‘Look out fur your change.’ Some of them guys may be shifty with their mitts29. Take little Artie himself! When a kid can do a high-jump o’ nearly five feet he might be handy with his fists too.”
“I’ll jump him in the drink,” sneered Compton lazily, as he nodded toward the sleepy[15] Green River flowing near by. “An’ I’ll take mama’s pet’s toys frum him while I’m doin’ it—don’t fergit it.”
“I won’t,” replied Hank significantly. “Saturday’s only day after to-morrow. They won’t be no time to fergit. We all heered what you said.”
“Mebbe you think I can’t!” retorted Compton as he shot a volume of cigarette smoke through his sun-blistered nose, and straightened himself.
“Sure you kin11. You kin always tell what you’re a-going to do. Go on. Blow yourself up with brag30.”
“Cheese it, kids. Cut it out! Don’t start nothin’,” shouted Mart Clare. “Come on, I’ve got a good hand.”
Jimmy glared at Hank but he seemed glad enough to drop the argument.
“If you think I’m braggin’, wait till Saturday,” was his only response.
“I will,” answered Hank with a new chuckle17 as he finished the deal of the cards. “But take it from me, Jimmy, when you start little Artie a-jumpin, get out from under. Don’t let him come down on top o’ you.”
“Come off—come off,” yawned Nick Apthorp[16] as he threw his cards towards the next dealer31 and reached for a string attached to a rotten log against which he had been leaning. “Mebbe this’ll stop the rag chewin’,” and he proceeded to pull on the string, which extended over the edge of the river bank, at the base of which was the gang’s swimming hole, into which Jimmy had threatened to make Art Trevor jump.
As a bottle of beer came in sight all animosities seemed forgotten. Hank Milleson grabbed an empty lard pail. Nick knocked off the top of the bottle on a stone and the lukewarm fluid was emptied into the pail.
“Fair divvies now,” shouted Compton, and the five young loafers crowded about the foam-crusted pail like flies around a molasses jug32. In such manner, with few variations, the “Goosetown gang” was accustomed to pass its afternoons.
Others who were accustomed to meet at times to play cards, drink beer and drowse away the hours came only on Saturdays and Sundays. Some of these had light employment in the furniture factories. Like Nick Apthorp, Matt Branson, Mart Clare, Jimmy Compton and Hank Milleson they had grown up without[17] schooling33, and they knew few pleasures except those of the young “tough.”
Had the roster34 of the “Goosetown gang” ever been written, its prominent members would have been in addition to those named, Job Wilkes, Joe Andrews, Buck35 Bluett, Tom Bates, Pete Chester and Tony Cooper. Of all these the foremost loafer was Hank Milleson. And Hank had a double distinction; he had already been a prisoner in the Scottsville lock-up, for disturbing the peace while intoxicated36. At that, he was but seventeen years old. Of the others some were not over twelve years.
Before dark that evening, news of what Jimmy Compton had done reached Elm Street. Sammy Addington was the one who brought the bulletin to the Trevor Garage.
“Jim Compton—Carrots—” reported Sammy, his eyes sparkling, “says he’s goin’ to make you jump in the river,” addressing Art Trevor, who was busy testing rubber cord.
“Me? In the river?” exclaimed Art in surprise. “What’s gone wrong with Carrots?”
“They’re all sore,” went on Sammy. “Nick Apthorp—he’s the guy that pinched our sign—him and Blowhard37 Compton an’ the gang all give it out—an’ they stuck our sign[18] up on the ole sycamore an’ spit on it; yes that’s what they done,” repeated Sammy rapidly as he saw the news was sensational38. “They spit on it an’ give it out if we go over there Saturday it’s goin’ to be rough house an’ that you’ll get yours,” he concluded nodding toward Art.
“They will? Like nothin’!” exclaimed Colly Craighead. “I reckon we can raise as many guys as they can.”
“Anyway,” broke in Art—but thoughtfully—“we’ll have to go ahead now. We can’t back water, can we, kids?”
Two more of the young aviators were present, Frank or “Wart39” Ware as he was known, and Alexander Conyers, usually known as Connie.
“Not on your life,” shouted Wart.
But Connie was not quite so sure. Connie, next to Art in age, was perhaps the strongest of all the Elm Street crowd, and somewhat strangely, usually the slowest to get into trouble.
“That’s a tough mob over there,” he ventured at last. “Kid to kid I think they’ve got us outclassed. We’ll save a lot of trouble by goin’ some other place.”
“But it’s the best open ground around[19] town,” argued Art. “Those fellows don’t own it.”
“But they think they do,” went on Connie. “And I don’t know whether we’d be able to show ’em they don’t.”
“Maybe we’d better think this thing over,” answered Art after some thought. “That is, we’d better decide just how we’re to tackle these fellows. But we’ll pull off our show and it’ll be just where we said it would be, if I’m the only exhibitor and I get the lickin’ of my life.”
Instantly all the others protested allegiance—Sammy Addington most vociferously40. But it could be seen that a shadow had fallen on the brilliant program announced for Saturday.
“My father knows the town marshal. We could—”
But that idea went no further. To Art and Conyers and Craighead, Sammy might as well have suggested that they call on their mothers for protection. If any hint of the impending41 embarrassment42 reached parental43 ears all knew that the tournament would be squelched44.
“Besides,” argued Colly, “if it’s to come to a show-down at last, we might as well go up[20] against it and lick ’em or take our medicine. How do you vote, Connie?”
“Well,” answered the chunky little warrior45 screwing up his mouth as if yet in doubt, “I ain’t keen for scraps—if they’re real—an’ I guess this’d be more’n just makin’ faces—but I’m tired o’ bein’ called a milksop, whatever that means. If you fellows mean business I reckon you won’t have to get a search warrant to find me.”
“That settles it,” announced Art. “Sammy, you an’ Colly get out and round up the kids. Ever’body’s got to know just what’s comin’ off. We’ll have a special meetin’ o’ the club to-night an’ count noses.”
“Better count ’em before Saturday,” interrupted Connie, “or some of ’em may look like two.”
“Mebbe,” retorted Art, “but Carrots Compton ain’t big enough to make me jump in the river. Don’t forget that.”
It was hardly dark before nearly every Elm Street boy had assembled at the garage. The council of war proceeded without lights and in subdued46 voices. In fact a few younger members were too agitated47 to talk above a frightened whisper. Early in the meeting George[21] Atkins, nine years old, and Davy Cooke, who had a withered48 left arm, were newly sworn to reveal nothing they had heard, “especially to your fathers and mothers,” and excused from the bloody49 conspiracy50.
Then, with varying degrees of valor51, they signed the following articles of war: “I hereby give my word of honor that next Saturday I will be present at the Sycamore Pasture at two o’clock and follow each order and command of Arthur Trevor, our president, so far as I am able, and that whatever happens I will not peach.” Then followed the names of eleven boys,—those named before and Lewis Ashwood, Paul Corbett, Duncan Easton, Roger Mercer, Sandy Sheldon and Phil Abercrombie.
When Art finally made his way onto the porch where his mother awaited him, she said:
“Arthur, what was the meeting about? Your tournament?”
“Yes, mother,” responded her son, with a smile, “we’re getting ready to have quite a time.”
“That’s nice,” replied his mother. “I hope the cleverest boys will win.”
“I reckon they will,” answered Art smiling.
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收听单词发音
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1
aviators
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| 飞机驾驶员，飞行员( aviator的名词复数 ) | |
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2
scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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swells
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| 增强( swell的第三人称单数 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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6
freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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7
automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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10
ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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12
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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13
precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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14
entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
placated
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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17
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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18
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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19
gratis
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| adj.免费的 | |
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20
poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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21
shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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22
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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23
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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24
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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25
flipping
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| 讨厌之极的 | |
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26
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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27
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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28
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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29
mitts
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| n.露指手套，棒球手套，拳击手套( mitt的名词复数 ) | |
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30
brag
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| v./n.吹牛，自夸；adj.第一流的 | |
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31
dealer
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| n.商人，贩子 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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33
schooling
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| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
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roster
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| n.值勤表，花名册 | |
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35
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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36
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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blowhard
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| n.自吹自擂者 | |
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sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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39
wart
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| n.疣，肉赘；瑕疵 | |
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40
vociferously
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| adv.喊叫地，吵闹地 | |
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41
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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42
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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43
parental
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| adj.父母的；父的；母的 | |
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44
squelched
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| v.发吧唧声，发扑哧声( squelch的过去式和过去分词 )；制止；压制；遏制 | |
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45
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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46
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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47
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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48
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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49
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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50
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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51
valor
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| n.勇气，英勇 | |
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