It wasn’t going to be nearly so hard next fall, for Mr. Kenton’s business had improved. Nevertheless, Joe meant to find some sort of employment for the[24] summer months, and on the journey home this matter occupied his thoughts a good deal of the way. He couldn’t go back to Murray and Bankhead’s, for his place there was occupied permanently5 by another, but he was certain that he could find a job of some sort. While Joe considered ways and means, Hal was telling Bert about the good time he was going to have at his father’s camp up north and Bert was picturing the delights of summer life at one of the nearby summer resorts. Hal had invited Joe to visit the camp some time toward the last of the summer and Joe had half accepted the invitation. He didn’t really expect to get there though.
Hal left town about a week after their return home, and Joe missed him a good deal at first, even though they didn’t get together very often in Central City. Hal moved in a different circle than Joe. Looking for work, however, occupied much of Joe’s time during that week and the next, for he had been home more than a fortnight before he secured the job with Donaldson and Burns, who operated the Central City Market. His principal duty was to deliver by bicycle, orders that could not await the trucks or that had been forgotten by them. When not occupied in that way he sometimes helped to put up orders. His hours were from eight to five, save on Saturdays, when the[25] store kept open until nine. Thursday afternoons he had off, for in Central City Thursday was the weekly half holiday from July to September.
It was on the first Thursday afternoon after starting to work that he sat on an empty soap box by the window of the stable loft6 and listlessly distributed type from a “stick” in his left hand to the case before him. The July day was hot, and from the printing press that stood on a stout7 packing case came a strong though not unpleasant odor of fresh ink. Joe wasn’t very happy this afternoon. On a shelf under the type case lay the results of his recent labor8, twelve printed invitations still sticky from the press. Now, having distributed the last of the type, he lifted one of the invitations, held it at arm’s length and read it. Beginning in script, it ran the gamut9 of Old English, italics and small Roman, and it read as follows:
You are Cordially Invited
to Attend a House Warming at
Camp Peejay, Squirrel Lake,
Thursday, July 6.
Philip Levering Joe Kenton
R. S. V. P.
It really looked awfully10 well, but he couldn’t get much of a thrill from that fact since, as sightly as they were, those invitations would probably never be used.
[26]
Until yesterday all had gone well. After work, with Philip reading the copy, Joe had finished the typesetting, and then, triumphantly11, they had pulled a smudgy proof and viewed it with pride and elation13. Just why at such a joyous14 moment the subject of painting the camp should have crept into the conversation is beyond knowledge, but it did, and half an hour later the two friends had parted in enmity, Philip flinging back as he clanged the front gate behind him: “Then I guess there won’t be any housewarming!” and Joe replying haughtily16: “Suits me all right!”
They had started the camp in April during Joe’s week of vacation, dragging the timbers and boards from Loomis’s mill behind Mr. Levering’s Ford17. By the end of the week it was complete even to the two windows, and they had stood off and viewed their work with pleasurable emotion. Everything about it was delectable18: the tar-papered roof that smelled so gloriously in the spring sunshine, the little four-foot, uncovered porch that ran the ten-foot length of the front, the door that wouldn’t quite close unless you put your full weight against it, the little square windows—everything!
And Joe had agreed heartily22. What color it was to be painted hadn’t been discussed then. The painting[27] of it was to await Joe’s home coming in June. It nearly broke their hearts that they couldn’t enjoy their handiwork, but Joe was returning to school the next day, and so they finally clicked the padlock on the door and, not without many backward looks, left the cabin behind.
Philip had guarded it as well as he could during the ensuing two months, but Joe had received one heartbroken letter from him in May in which he told of going out to Squirrel Lake and finding the cabin broken into and both window panes23 smashed.
“It was ‘Bull’ Jones and Harper Merrill and that crowd that did it,” Philip had stated, “but you can’t prove anything on them.”
Philip had repaired damages and when Joe got back the last of June the cabin had not been again molested24.
Since then the two boys had found time to furnish the camp. They had put in an old stove from the Kenton attic25, a table and two chairs and a camp cot—some day they meant to have another cot—and cooking things and tin plates and so on until the furnishings threatened to exclude the occupants. The housewarming idea had been Joe’s. It would, he explained, be dandy to issue invitations and have, say, about ten of the fellows out there for supper. They could go out in the Fullerton bus and walk back by moonlight. Joe wasn’t certain about the[28] moonlight, but he hoped for the best. Philip accepted the idea with enthusiasm, making but one reservation: none of Bull Jones’s crowd should be asked! To this Joe agreed unhesitatingly, even passionately26, and that evening they had arranged a menu for the supper, counted their cash on hand and composed the invitations. The next day Joe had brushed the dust from the printing press in the stable loft and, with Philip aiding, set type, worked the lever of the neglected press and pulled a proof.
Joe laid the invitations back now with a frown. He wondered why he had gone to the trouble of printing them, since they would never be used. Even if he and Philip made up again later, those cards wouldn’t be any good, for there was the date set forth27 plainly: “Thursday, July 6.” And that was only a week from to-day, and Joe was very, very sure that he couldn’t be persuaded to forgive Philip in any such brief space of time as a week!
He turned moodily28 away and looked out of the window. On the Merrill’s back porch Harper and Pete Brooks29 were doing something with a board and some wire. Harper kept rabbits and perhaps the contrivance had something to do with them. Joe wasn’t interested, anyway. If he had been he could easily have gained enlightenment for the porch was only fifty feet away and the back of the house acted like a sounding board and threw the voices[29] of the two boys right in at the window. But Joe was busy with his thoughts.
After all, he supposed it didn’t matter much whether Camp Peejay was painted red or green. Only, having held out for green, he wasn’t going to give in now, especially as Philip had acted so pig-headed and selfish. Viewing the question calmly, he wasn’t sure that Philip’s argument was not quite tenable. Philip had said that if they painted the camp green it wouldn’t show up well amongst the trees, and that, besides, red was a better color for winter, looking warmer and more cozy30. Even before they had parted in anger, Joe had felt himself inclining toward red, but by that time too many things had been said! Gee, it was a mighty31 unimportant thing to quarrel about! Even in the matter of finding a name for the camp there had been no clash of opinion, although Joe had been secretly of the notion that, since the idea had originated with him, Jaypee would have been more proper, if less euphonious32, than Peejay. Well, anyway, what was done was done, and if Philip expected that he, Joe, was going to back down and lick his boots he was mightily33 mistaken! No, sir, by jiminy! Philip could—could—
His indignant musings were disturbed. A new voice, loud and compelling, came in at the window. On the Merrill back porch Bull Jones had added[30] his bulky presence to the group. Joe looked down and scowled34. Bull was a bully36 and a braggart37, the ringleader of the other crowd, the evil genius who had so nearly put an end to Camp Peejay, and Joe detested38 him so thoroughly39 that the mere40 sight of him was enough to re-rumple Joe’s brow. But the scowl35 of dislike gave way to one of incredulity. Bull was outlining in perfectly audible tones a scheme never intended for Joe’s ears! It was plain that none of the three on the porch knew that he was at the window. Perhaps the sunlight’s glare masked him, or perhaps they had not thought to look. That as may have been, Joe acted promptly41. He slid swiftly from the box, extended himself full length on the floor, well out of sight, and listened avidly42. Fifteen minutes later, the group on the porch having departed, he arose, abstractedly dusted his clothes and seated himself again on the box giving himself over to deep thought. The shaft43 of sunlight moved backward the space of one dusty floor board before Joe arrived at a course of action. Then, guiltily conscious of wasted moments, he seized his cap from the floor and raced down the stairs and out into the yard. The shortest way to Crown Street was via the side fence and the Martin’s rhubarb patch. This route was attended by some risk, for Mrs. Martin’s ideas on the subject of trespass44 were extremely narrow, but the present[31] occasion seemed to Joe to warrant risk, and he took it. Reaching the top of the board fence by means of the grape trellis, he landed astride the bursting crinkly head of a rhubarb plant, cast a swift and anxious glance at the kitchen door and dodged45 under the pear trees to the further side of the yard. For once no strident voice bade him halt, and in a jiffy he had vaulted46 the privet hedge and was safe.
Philip lived a dozen houses southward, and while yet two doors distant Joe knew that Philip was at home. The excruciating wail47 of Philip’s violin floated sadly forth on the afternoon air. Joe smiled as he heard. Philip’s practice hour ordinarily ended at four, and here it was long after, and the inference was clear that he was prolonging the agony merely because the quarrel with his chum had left him with no better way of spending the time. In front of the Levering house Joe stopped and gazed frowningly up at the open window of the room above the porch. The practice paused for an instant and he raised his voice in the accustomed hail:
“Oo-ee-e-e!”
Philip appeared at the casement48 and looked down. Joe had made up his mind that if Philip’s face showed triumph over his friend’s capitulation the reconciliation49 should go no farther. But it didn’t. Philip’s countenance50 expressed faint surprise, instantly suppressed, and then casual and wary51 interest.
[32]
“Hello!” he said.
“Hello!” answered Joe.
Philip worried the curtain cord with his bow for a moment. Finally, after a gulp52 that was almost audible below: “Come on up,” he said.
Joe glanced up the street and then down, as though doubtful that his manifold interests would permit of his accepting the invitation. In the end, however, he nodded. “All right,” he answered. Then, as if fearing he had shown too eager a spirit, he added: “Got something to tell you.”
It was Philip’s turn to nod, and, having done so, he disappeared from the window and Joe went, not too hurriedly, through the gate and in at the door. Philip awaited him, as usual, at the top of the stairway. Each ventured a doubtful and fleeting53 grin as they met, and then Philip closed the door of the little room and Joe flung himself on the bright-hued afghan that covered the bed by day. Having landed there, he reflected that he had meant to comport54 himself somewhat haughtily while making it clear to his host that only a matter of extraordinary importance would have brought him. But it was too late now. He glanced at the violin on the chair and then at the music rack with the bow lying along the ledge15.
“Practicing?” he asked.
Philip nodded and Joe continued mercilessly.[33] “Sort of late, ain’t you?” he inquired. Philip’s gaze wandered evasively.
“I got started kind of late,” he murmured. Then, realizing that the statement was not quite the truth, he amended55 it. “There wasn’t much else to do,” he said.
Joe stifled56 a triumphant12 chuckle57. “Say,” he substituted, “did you tell Charley Nagel about—about the housewarming?”
“Kind of,” answered Philip. “I told him we were going to ask some of the fellows out to the camp Saturday.”
“Gee! Didn’t you know he’d go and tell Bull and that bunch?”
“Well, you went and made a mess of it,” said Joe sternly. “Bull and his crowd are going out there to-night. They’re going to bust59 the door in and use our things and have a feed!”
“Wha-a-t! How do you know?”
Joe told him. “Bull said they’d ‘warm the house’ for us,” he added bitterly. “They’re going to take a steak and some onions and some ginger60 ale and—”
“Who’s going?” demanded Philip frowningly.
“The whole bunch: Bull and Harper and Pete and Dill Treadway and all those. Charley Nagel, too, I suppose. Six or seven, probably.”
[34]
“When?”
Joe shrugged61. “Guess they’re on the way now. They went to get Dill and some others about half an hour ago. Then they had to buy the steak and things.” Joe looked at his nickel watch. “Probably they’re just about starting. I thought you’d want to know.”
Philip nodded thoughtfully. “Of course,” he muttered. “But I guess it’s too late to do anything. That’s a tough crowd, Joe, and they love a scrap62. Even if we could get some of our crowd to go out there we couldn’t drive those fellows away. Gee, I wish I hadn’t said anything to Charley!”
“So do I,” said Joe morosely63. “They’ll just about wreck64 the camp! And use up all our things too.”
Philip agreed gloomily. “Potatoes and coffee and everything! If we could only get out there ahead of them—”
“We can’t.”
Silence fell. Presently Philip arose and quietly returned the violin to its case and relegated65 the music stand to the closet. Joe watched him anxiously. He had firm faith in Philip’s wit and wisdom, but it seemed that here was a problem too difficult for the chum’s solving, and Joe’s hope languished66. Outside, the evening shadows were lengthening67 fast. The strident whistling of the[35] carroty-haired youth who delivered the evening paper grew near and there was a gentle thud as the damp copy of the Evening Star landed against the front door below.
“There’s the paper,” murmured Joe dejectedly.
“Get it if you like,” said Philip in abstracted tones.
He had seated himself again, hands in pockets and his long legs stuck out across the faded ingrain art-square. Joe murmured indifference68 to the Star and Philip continued to stare at the floor. Five o’clock struck from the steeple of the Presbyterian Church and Joe instinctively69 listened for the screech70 of the eastbound express as it reached the trestle. But before it came Philip lifted his head suddenly and exploded a question in the silence.
“What time does it get dark?” he demanded.
“Dark? Why, about seven, I guess,” replied Joe, startled.
“Think they’ll have their supper before that?”
“I don’t know. Why? If they get out there by five—”
“They won’t,” interrupted the other decisively. “It’s a mile and a half. Suppose they got the crowd rounded up and bought their things in half an hour. They’d get started about a quarter to five. Walking, the way they would, they’d take a good half hour to get there. Then they’d have to get into the cabin, and that would take them five or maybe ten[36] minutes longer. Well, suppose they began to prepare supper right off, which they wouldn’t, it would take them another half hour to make the fire and peel the onions and all that, wouldn’t it?”
“Why, sure,” agreed Joe. “More than a half hour. They’d make Charley and Dill do the work, and they’re as slow as snails71. What are you getting at, though?”
“I’m trying to figure out when they’d have that supper ready to eat. I don’t believe it would be ready much before seven.”
“Maybe not, but as I’m not going to eat it, it doesn’t mean much in my life.”
“With that gang of thugs?” retorted the other indignantly. “I would not!”
“Suppose they weren’t there, though?” suggested Philip gently.
“Weren’t there! Say, you’ve got a scheme! What’s it?”
Philip smiled. “Maybe I have,” he answered. “See what you think of it.”
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收听单词发音
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1
junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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3
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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4
earnings
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| n.工资收人；利润，利益，所得 | |
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5
permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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6
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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8
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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9
gamut
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| n.全音阶，(一领域的)全部知识 | |
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10
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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11
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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12
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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13
elation
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| n.兴高采烈，洋洋得意 | |
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14
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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15
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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16
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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17
Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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18
delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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19
gee
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| n.马；int.向右！前进！，惊讶时所发声音；v.向右转 | |
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20
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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21
corking
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| adj.很好的adv.非常地v.用瓶塞塞住( cork的现在分词 ) | |
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22
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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23
panes
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| 窗玻璃( pane的名词复数 ) | |
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24
molested
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| v.骚扰( molest的过去式和过去分词 )；干扰；调戏；猥亵 | |
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25
attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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26
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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27
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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28
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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29
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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30
cozy
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| adj.亲如手足的，密切的，暖和舒服的 | |
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31
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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32
euphonious
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| adj.好听的，悦耳的，和谐的 | |
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33
mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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34
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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35
scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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36
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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37
braggart
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| n.吹牛者；adj.吹牛的，自夸的 | |
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38
detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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40
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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41
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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42
avidly
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| adv.渴望地，热心地 | |
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43
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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44
trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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45
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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46
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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47
wail
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| vt./vi.大声哀号，恸哭；呼啸，尖啸 | |
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48
casement
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| n.竖铰链窗；窗扉 | |
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49
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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50
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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51
wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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52
gulp
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| vt.吞咽，大口地吸（气）；vi.哽住；n.吞咽 | |
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53
fleeting
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| adj.短暂的，飞逝的 | |
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54
comport
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| vi.相称，适合 | |
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55
Amended
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| adj. 修正的 动词amend的过去式和过去分词 | |
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56
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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57
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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58
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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59
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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60
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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61
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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62
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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63
morosely
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| adv.愁眉苦脸地，忧郁地 | |
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64
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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65
relegated
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| v.使降级( relegate的过去式和过去分词 )；使降职；转移；把…归类 | |
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66
languished
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| 长期受苦( languish的过去式和过去分词 )； 受折磨； 变得（越来越）衰弱； 因渴望而变得憔悴或闷闷不乐 | |
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67
lengthening
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| （时间或空间）延长，伸长( lengthen的现在分词 )； 加长 | |
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68
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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69
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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70
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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71
snails
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| n.蜗牛；迟钝的人；蜗牛( snail的名词复数 ) | |
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72
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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