I was talking about.
"Drat," he muttered. "That low-down skunk. I was hoping he'd forgotten."
Andrew hesitated. Without looking at me, he picked up a piece of chalk and started drawing a little train on the floor. Concentrating on his sketch, he said, "Before I got sick, Edward dared me to jump off the trestle."
My heart beat faster. "Is that what I'm supposed to do? Jump off?"
"Now, now, don't get all het up, Drew. It's not as bad as you think." Carefully, Andrew added a curlicue of smoke to his drawing. "You walk out on the trestle and jump in the river. Then you swim to shore. It's as simple as one two three." He tapped the chalk three times for emphasis.
My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak. Lying down between the rails or dynamiting the train might be better than this. "How high is the trestle?"
Instead of answering my question, Andrew said, "It's a test of manhood. Lots of boys have done it."
I wasn't interested in testing my manhood or hearing about other boys. I just wanted to know what was going to
happen to me. Me—a boy who was scared to jump off a diving board into eight feet of crystal-clear chlorinated water.
"Is it five feet high?" I asked. "Ten feet? Twenty feet?"
Andrew shrugged. "More like fifteen, I guess, but the water's deep. As long as you don't hit a rock, you'll be fine." He looked at me and grinned. "Why, I could do it blindfolded, I could do it with one hand tied behind my back, I could—"
I flung myself at him. "Showoff! Braggart! No wonder Edward hates you."
Andrew dodged and danced away, laughing at my clumsy attempts to catch him. At the top of the attic steps, he paused for a second. "Just think, Drew—if you win a game between now and next week, I'll have to jump instead of you."
I lunged toward him, but he ran down the steps. Before he reached the bottom, he called, "Of course, I don't believe you'll beat me. Not tomorrow night nor the night after nor any other night. You'll never win, Drew, never."
"You just wait and see," I cried, but I was talking to empty air. Andrew had vanished, and I was alone.
Chapter 16
Hannah leaned toward me and touched my hand. "What's the matter? I've never seen such a long face."
To avoid meeting her eyes, I gathered the miggles we'd shot out of the ring. Half the week had passed, and I hadn't come close to beating Andrew. If I didn't win soon, I'd have to meet Edward on the trestle.
"I just can't beat him," I muttered.
"What has that dirty rat done now?"
Shocked, I stared at Hannah. Had she guessed? Did she know about Andrew and me? "He," I stammered, "he..."
"Drat Edward for plaguing you so." Hannah clenched her fists and scowled fiercely. "If I were a boy, I'd give him a walloping he wouldn't soon forget."
"That's more than Andrew will ever do." Theo stood on the edge of the grove. Nudging a marble with his bare toe, he watched it roll toward the ring. "So this is where you go every morning. I've been wondering and wondering."
"Don't tell," Hannah said. "Mama would take her hairbrush to my bottom if she knew I was playing marbles like a tomboy."
Theo squatted beside her. "I bet you wouldn't cry no
matter how hard Mama spanked you. Even though you're a girl, you're tougher than
some
people in this family."
"Hush, Theo," Hannah said. "You know the fever left Andrew weak. For goodness sake, you're almost as bad as Edward."
"All Andrew has to do is stand up for himself. Edward would leave him alone fast enough then." Theo turned to me. "Don't you remember what happened the time you made his nose bleed?"
Instead of answering, I practiced shooting at the miggles left in the ring. Click. Pleased, I watched a cat's-eye hop across the dirt and roll into the weeds. I was getting better and better—but I still wasn't good enough.
Hannah put her hand on mine. "Forget the marbles for now, Andrew. Theo's absolutely right. I told you before—you mustn't let Edward scare you. He's a bully and a coward. What would Frank Merriwell do if
"Drat," he muttered. "That low-down skunk. I was hoping he'd forgotten."
Andrew hesitated. Without looking at me, he picked up a piece of chalk and started drawing a little train on the floor. Concentrating on his sketch, he said, "Before I got sick, Edward dared me to jump off the trestle."
My heart beat faster. "Is that what I'm supposed to do? Jump off?"
"Now, now, don't get all het up, Drew. It's not as bad as you think." Carefully, Andrew added a curlicue of smoke to his drawing. "You walk out on the trestle and jump in the river. Then you swim to shore. It's as simple as one two three." He tapped the chalk three times for emphasis.
My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak. Lying down between the rails or dynamiting the train might be better than this. "How high is the trestle?"
Instead of answering my question, Andrew said, "It's a test of manhood. Lots of boys have done it."
I wasn't interested in testing my manhood or hearing about other boys. I just wanted to know what was going to
happen to me. Me—a boy who was scared to jump off a diving board into eight feet of crystal-clear chlorinated water.
"Is it five feet high?" I asked. "Ten feet? Twenty feet?"
Andrew shrugged. "More like fifteen, I guess, but the water's deep. As long as you don't hit a rock, you'll be fine." He looked at me and grinned. "Why, I could do it blindfolded, I could do it with one hand tied behind my back, I could—"
I flung myself at him. "Showoff! Braggart! No wonder Edward hates you."
Andrew dodged and danced away, laughing at my clumsy attempts to catch him. At the top of the attic steps, he paused for a second. "Just think, Drew—if you win a game between now and next week, I'll have to jump instead of you."
I lunged toward him, but he ran down the steps. Before he reached the bottom, he called, "Of course, I don't believe you'll beat me. Not tomorrow night nor the night after nor any other night. You'll never win, Drew, never."
"You just wait and see," I cried, but I was talking to empty air. Andrew had vanished, and I was alone.
Chapter 16
Hannah leaned toward me and touched my hand. "What's the matter? I've never seen such a long face."
To avoid meeting her eyes, I gathered the miggles we'd shot out of the ring. Half the week had passed, and I hadn't come close to beating Andrew. If I didn't win soon, I'd have to meet Edward on the trestle.
"I just can't beat him," I muttered.
"What has that dirty rat done now?"
Shocked, I stared at Hannah. Had she guessed? Did she know about Andrew and me? "He," I stammered, "he..."
"Drat Edward for plaguing you so." Hannah clenched her fists and scowled fiercely. "If I were a boy, I'd give him a walloping he wouldn't soon forget."
"That's more than Andrew will ever do." Theo stood on the edge of the grove. Nudging a marble with his bare toe, he watched it roll toward the ring. "So this is where you go every morning. I've been wondering and wondering."
"Don't tell," Hannah said. "Mama would take her hairbrush to my bottom if she knew I was playing marbles like a tomboy."
Theo squatted beside her. "I bet you wouldn't cry no
matter how hard Mama spanked you. Even though you're a girl, you're tougher than
some
people in this family."
"Hush, Theo," Hannah said. "You know the fever left Andrew weak. For goodness sake, you're almost as bad as Edward."
"All Andrew has to do is stand up for himself. Edward would leave him alone fast enough then." Theo turned to me. "Don't you remember what happened the time you made his nose bleed?"
Instead of answering, I practiced shooting at the miggles left in the ring. Click. Pleased, I watched a cat's-eye hop across the dirt and roll into the weeds. I was getting better and better—but I still wasn't good enough.
Hannah put her hand on mine. "Forget the marbles for now, Andrew. Theo's absolutely right. I told you before—you mustn't let Edward scare you. He's a bully and a coward. What would Frank Merriwell do if
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