The wicket was pitched in the middle of the field. Dodds was batting, but as his back was toward them, the children could not see his face.

But they could hear his voice, and a very imperious, commanding voice it was. Hal was bowling and fielding as well, and as Dodds sent his b.a.l.l.s flying to all parts of the field, Hal had plenty of work to do.

And while he raced about in all directions Dodds lay luxuriously on the gra.s.s and shouted to him to hurry up. Presently Hal bowled a ball that very nearly knocked the middle stump flat on its back, and Drusie softly clapped her hands, and said "Bravo" under her breath.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Dodds laying on gra.s.s]

"That was a very good ball indeed," they heard Dodds say approvingly.

"Send a few more like that."

Hal flushed with pride and pleasure at this praise, but the others thought that he looked a shade disappointed as his friend placed himself again in front of the wicket.

But he continued to bowl for other ten minutes; then Dodds remarked that the light was getting bad, and that they might as well stop.

"I would bowl a bit for you," he said. "It is too dark to see the ball properly; I hope you don't mind. I really did mean to let you have some batting to-day."

"Oh, it does not matter," Hal said hurriedly. "Any time will do. I don't mind a bit."

"Still, I don't like to be selfish," said Dodds, whose conscience appeared to be p.r.i.c.king him. The unseen listeners among the bushes thought it might have p.r.i.c.ked him a little earlier in the day, for they soon learned that neither on this occasion nor on any other had Hal been permitted to bat. He had merely bowled and fielded for Dodds.

When they recovered from their astonishment at this, they could hardly help laughing. It was really rather funny, after all Hal's bragging, to find that he was only made use of in the way that he made use of them.

And the curious part of it was that Hal raised no objection, although it was easy to see that he was feeling a little disappointed this evening. On the other hand, he was so flattered at being allowed to a.s.sociate, even on these unequal terms, with a boy so much older than himself, that he took care to smother his discontent.

"What about to-morrow?" said Dodds carelessly. "Can you be here pretty early?"

Hal hesitated for a minute before replying. In spite of Helen's a.s.sertions to the contrary, he had not forgotten that to-morrow was the day of the storming of the fort.

Several times, as he had hastened to and from the Greys', he had heard them at work there, and had known perfectly well what they were doing.

He had even overheard a conversation, in which they discussed the likelihood of his taking part in the fight.

And at the time Hal, touched to see how much they wanted him, had resolved that he would spend the whole of his birthday with them.

"Yes," Dodds went on; "come as soon after breakfast as you can--it is cooler then--and we will have a regular good go in. I want to make a big score at that match next week. You are coming over to see it, aren't you?"

"Y-yes," Hal stammered. Though Dodds had not mentioned that cricket match during the last few days, Hal had not forgotten his promise to get him included in it if possible. Consequently, Dodds's careless inquiry as to whether he intended to come over as a mere spectator disconcerted him very much. However, he swallowed his disappointment, and said that he had thought of going.

"But about to-morrow," he added. "I don't think I can come--"

"Oh, but you must," Dodds cried out, interrupting him. "I simply can't do without you. Look here; if it is the batting that you are feeling sore about, you shall go in first. There! I have promised you that."

Hal's face brightened. He _did_ wish to show Dodds that his batting was very much better than his bowling. And perhaps Dodds would be so struck with the brilliancy of his performance that he might after all manage to secure him a place in the match. It would be a real pity, he reflected, to neglect such a chance. After all, the others could very well do without him to-morrow.

"Well," said Dodds impatiently, "what do you say? Will you come? Or are you going somewhere with your brothers and sisters? You have got some, haven't you?"

"Yes," said Hal; "but I never play with them--not since I have been at school, at least. You see they are all much younger than I am."

"Oh, a set of kids," said Dodds indifferently. "What a nuisance they must be!"

But this Hal did have the grace to contradict.

"Oh no, they are not," he said; "but they have kept on liking things that I don't care about, and they get huffy when I don't play with them. Of course," he added with an aggrieved air, "it is hardly likely that I should care to mix myself up very much with them now."

"I see," said Dodds; and though they could not see his face, Drusie and Jim were sure there must have been a twinkle of merriment in his eyes.

"You have grown out of all their games, you mean, and are too old to play with them any more."

"Yes," said Hal eagerly; "that's just it. Now, you understand that all right at once, but I cannot get them to see it."

"It is wonderful how silly kids can be," said Dodds gravely. "But, look here; are you coming or are you not? For, if you are not, I shall ask one of the Harveys to spend the day with me."

That was enough for Hal. Throwing his scruples and his half-formed resolution to spend his birthday at home to the winds, he said at once that he would come.

"That's right," said Dodds in the half-patronizing tone he had used all along. "Be here directly after breakfast then, and you shall have first innings; that's a bargain."

"I won't forget," said Hal in a delighted tone. "I expect I shall be up here about nine o'clock."

It was a very melancholy little quartette that presently emerged from the bushes, and took its way home through the woods and the fields.

"I never should have believed it of Hal--never!" said Helen, quite forgetting that she had always warned the others of what they might expect. "To desert us on his birthday, and for a boy that does not care a bit about him, except to make use of him!"

"It is funny," said Jim thoughtfully. "I never should have thought that Hal would have allowed another boy to order him about as Dodds does. Why, he f.a.gs for Dodds just as Hal would like us to f.a.g for him; only we won't. And he did not seem to mind a bit."

But Drusie never spoke one single word the whole way home. To think that Hal--her own twin--from whom, until a short three months ago, she had been almost inseparable, should arrange to spend the whole of his birthday away from home caused her bitter grief. It was not even that he had forgotten the fact of their birthdays. She knew quite well he remembered, from the momentary hesitation he had shown. No; he had deliberately chosen to desert her, and Drusie felt as if she should never get over it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Chapter IV tailpiece]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Chapter V headpiece]

CHAPTER V.

THE FORT IN THE WILDERNESS.

All, the Danvers, except, perhaps, Tommy, who was too young to take things very much to heart, awoke the next morning with a weight on their minds, and not, as Helen said afterwards, "with a bit of birthday feeling about them."

Hal was ashamed of himself. Though he was unaware, of course, that they had overheard his conversation with Dodds, he guessed from their downcast faces that they knew that he intended to desert them on his and Drusie's birthday, and was not going near the fort.

He was more ashamed than ever when, lying beside his plate at breakfast, he found one of the handsomest pocket-knives he had ever seen. It had no less than four blades, besides so many other weapons that, as the man who sold it remarked to Drusie and Jim, "it was a carpenter's tool-chest in miniature."

And a dreadful feeling of remorse came over Hal when he remembered that he had neglected to get something for Drusie. It was not that he had forgotten her birthday either--seeing that it was on the same day as his own, he could not very well do that; and when he had gone to school he had quite made up his mind to put aside at least half of his pocket-money every week, and save it for her.

"It does not matter in the least," Drusie said eagerly, when Hal began to stammer out his shamefaced apologies. "I don't want a present from you one bit. I know quite well that boys must have a great deal to do with their money at school."

At that Hal got rather red. He remembered the regular weekly visits to the "tuck-shop;" and he knew that if he had only denied himself a little, Drusie might have had her birthday present.