Over the Line - Part 17
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Part 17

"Welcome to our city," greeted Cateye, tossing aside a notebook upon which he had been working, "I'm always glad to entertain callers, for then I feel that I have a legitimate excuse to quit studying. What have you got there, Pole?"

"A new guitar. Isn't she a beaut? Dad sent it to me for a birthday present!" Pole sat down on the bed, struck a few chords, and started a tune. "This place hasn't been stirred by any real music this year and I decided to cut loose to-night!"

"Good heavens, Pole, why should you wish any of your discord on us?

Why not rehea.r.s.e in your own room?"

"I wanted an audience," replied Pole, "Isn't this ditty pretty? I composed it myself."

Potts, at this juncture, drew forth a Jews harp and added further discordant vibrations to the atmosphere.

"I can beat you both!" grinned Judd, and diving for his suitcase he unearthed a mouth organ. In another moment he was reproducing the familiar strains of, "And When I Die."

The effect was almost instantaneous. Doors swung open on the halls; students on the lower floors started coming up stairs; everything was in commotion.

"Now you've done it!" reprimanded Cateye. "We'll have the whole dorm on us in two minutes! Pole, ring off on that guitar!"

Shouts were already coming from outside.

"Have a heart!"

"What d'ya think this is, a music hall?"

"That guy with the mouth organ is a coward. No one would dare make a noise like that in public!"

"Let us in before we rip the panels out!"

"Shall we let 'em in?" Pole asked, grinning.

"I suppose we'll have to," Cateye muttered, "Or suffer the consequences."

Pole slipped the bolt and the fellows packed the room.

"Just as I surmised!" cried Oole, the first man in. "Pole and Potts, the inseparable noise makers! As a penalty I demand a duet!"

"You bet! A duet!" voiced the rest.

"What'll it be?" Pole queried, with an important air, "I can play anything you should choose to name, gentlemen."

"Let's hear you render, The Last Rose of Summer."

"In how many pieces do you wish it rendered?" asked Potts sweetly, striking the key on his Jews harp.

"Makes no difference,--just so it's rendered."

Pole and Potts now a.s.sumed a serious air, eyed each other soberly, and prepared to play.

"One, two, three! One, two, three! One, two, three! Play!" cried Pole, waving his arms wildly. Potts started in but missed the key by at least three notes. Pole gave Potts a handicap, then started in to catch up. The discord was very displeasing.

"Kill it!"

"That's the last rose of summer that I want to hear!"

"Enough!"

Potts was forced to stop through laughing, but Pole kept on until strong hands compelled him to cease.

"It's a pity you fellows can't appreciate real music," pouted Pole, "I'm severely wounded. I shall never play for you again."

"Thank heaven!" breathed someone, evidently much relieved.

"Who was that we heard tooting the mouth organ?" demanded Johnson, editor of the Bartlett College Weekly.

"Rube's the guilty man," betrayed Pole, anxious to have another share his sorrows. "If they ask you to play, Rube, don't do it! I wouldn't play before such an unappreciative audience."

"Come on, Rube, give us some music!"

"No, I reckon I've made noise enough for one evening," replied Judd, shyly.

"Just one tune, please!"

Judd looked at Cateye questioningly.

"Go ahead," grinned Cateye, "Drive 'em out, Judd!"

Judd picked up the mouth organ.

"What'll I play?"

"Oh,--anything!"

"That's pretty broad. S'posin' I impersonate a steam calliope in a circus?"

"Impersonate, Judd! Great snakes, don't try to impersonate one of those things! The distortion would be so stupendous that you'd never look the same again!"

"I reckon I'll imitate one, then," responded Judd, raising the mouth organ to his lips.

The moment he started playing, a hush came over the bunch. The imitation was so perfect that every fellow could imagine again the tail end of a gaudy circus parade and the steaming calliope.

When Judd finished he was greeted with a round of applause. Cries of, "More! More!" came from every throat.

Judd seemed to catch the spirit of it all and to forget his embarra.s.sment. He began to play simple home melodies and popular songs which gripped at the heart strings of every fellow present. Several times the fellows started in and sang while Judd furnished the accompaniments. At last, Judd, thinking that he had played long enough, struck up the tune, "Good-night, ladies." The fellows took the hint and departed, promising to come again and thanking Judd for his entertainment.

"Well, Judd," said Cateye, quietly, "I'm proud of you tonight. You made some hit with the bunch!"

"Did I?"

"I should say you did! I'd give anything to have the guys rave over me like they did over you and your playing."